Sword Light in the Eyes

The project manager's sharp, ear-piercing interrogation was like a cold needle, piercing the superficial calm of the office area. Almost all the colleagues buried in their cubicles, as if by unspoken agreement, cast their gazes, either openly or covertly, towards Lin Fan's small corner. In those looks, there was schadenfreude, indifference, and a hint of pity, like a rabbit mourning another's demise.

Lin Fan felt his face burning, his blood rushing to his head. He clenched his fists, his fingernails digging deeply into his palms, the sharp sting barely suppressing the urge to smash the keyboard into the other man's face. He knew the manager was just picking on him. With the department under pressure for performance lately, they always needed a soft target to assert authority, and his gentle nature, unsuited for office politics, made him the perfect candidate.

"The company hired you to work, not to make excuses!" The manager's spittle nearly sprayed onto Lin Fan's face, his finger almost jabbing Lin Fan's nose. "A simple request, and you've dragged it out for days! Don't you want this job anymore? If not, get out now, there are plenty of people waiting to take your place!"

The air around them seemed to freeze. Lin Fan could hear his heart pounding wildly in his chest, thump-thump-thump, like a broken drum. Humiliation, anger, and a sliver of fear of losing this job he depended on for survival, all intertwined, threatening to drown him. He opened his mouth, wanting to explain the bizarre encounter from last night, to say he hadn't intentionally delayed, but the words caught in his throat, swallowed back down.

How could I explain? That a Sage from another world showed up at my place last night, and I was busy making him instant noodles, arranging accommodation, and dealing with thugs who tried to break in at midnight?

If he actually said that, he'd probably be sent to a mental hospital the next second.

In the end, he could only lower his head and grit out a few words: "I'm sorry, Manager. I'll get it done right away. I'll have it for you before the end of the day."

"Before the end of the day?" The manager scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "I'll give you one last chance. You must send the initial draft to my email by noon! Otherwise, you can figure out what to do about your performance bonus this month and your year-end bonus!"

With that, he slammed his hand heavily on Lin Fan's desk, making the water cup on it tremble, before turning and leaving with an arrogant swagger, leaving behind a suffocating presence.

Seeing this, the surrounding colleagues quickly withdrew their gazes and returned to their work, as if nothing had happened. The cold indifference of the workplace was vividly displayed at that moment.

Lin Fan sat rigidly in his chair, feeling all his strength drained away. He stared at the half-finished requirements document on his computer screen. The dense text and charts looked like gibberish, making him dizzy.

Noon... It's already nine-thirty. Only two and a half hours left.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to concentrate. His fingers trembled as he placed them on the keyboard and began typing furiously. I have to finish it, no matter what! I can't lose this job. Rent, utilities, living expenses, and... the 'ancestor' I just brought home who looks like he'll be a handful...

The thought of Tong Tian made Lin Fan's heart race even more. Is it really okay to leave him alone at home? What kind of trouble will he get into now? Will he know how to use that old phone? What if...

All sorts of thoughts grew like weeds in his mind, severely disrupting his work efficiency. Time ticked by, but the progress on the document crawled like a snail.

Meanwhile, in Lin Fan's cramped rented apartment.

Tong Tian remained seated cross-legged on the yoga mat by the wall, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing long and steady. Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a faint golden halo around him.

However, his inner state was far from as calm as it appeared.

He tried to circulate the Supreme Clarity Immortal Formula, but his dantian's sea of qi was like a completely dried-up desert, unable to sense even a trace of Celestial Essence. His divine sense probed outward, only to get stuck as if in a quagmire, firmly confined within this small space by some invisible, impossibly solid barrier of this world. At most, he could vaguely sense the outlines of tables, chairs, and bowls within the room, barely able to detect the movements of his neighbors.

For the Master Tongtian, whose divine sense could once encompass the Primordial Era and survey the Three Realms and Six Paths with a mere thought, how stifling and powerless this was!

What troubled him even more was the "turbid energy" permeating the air. It wasn't filth, but a kind of... dead stillness. The spiritual energy was so thin it was negligible, replaced by an inert, chaotic energy field that he couldn't absorb and even faintly repelled. Staying in such an environment for a long time made him feel like a fish out of water, struggling even to maintain basic life functions.

He ceased his futile meditation and slowly opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the "old mobile phone" Lin Fan had left him before leaving.

The rectangular "magic artifact" lay quietly on the table, its screen black.

Tong Tian recalled how Lin Fan operated it. He reached out and, mimicking the action, touched the round button below the screen with his fingertip.

The screen instantly lit up, displaying the time, date, and an interface that required a swipe to unlock.

Tong Tian raised an eyebrow slightly. This object is indeed wondrous. It activates with a mere thought (touch) without needing spiritual energy.

He attempted to swipe the screen with his finger.

The interface unlocked, revealing a few simple icons – Phone, Messages, and a basic browser that Lin Fan had downloaded for him to browse news.

His gaze first fell on the "Phone" icon. Remote communication... another form of the Thousand-Mile Sound Transmission technique? He tapped it. The interface was simple, with only a numeric keypad, a green dial button, and Lin Fan's own number pre-set.

Tong Tian didn't hastily make a call. His gaze shifted to the browser icon, and he tapped it.

The browser's homepage was a news page from a portal website set up by Lin Fan. Instantly, a flood of images and text headlines filled the entire screen!

Celebrity Suspected of New Romance! International Oil Prices Fluctuate Again! New Subway Line to Be Added in This City, Benefiting Nearby Residents! ...

Various bizarre pieces of information, accompanied by vivid colors and exaggerated headlines, surged into Tong Tian's vision and cognition like a torrent.

His brow furrowed deeply.

These texts, he could barely understand their meaning thanks to his Sage-level true spirit foundation, but their presentation and content made him extremely uncomfortable. They were all trivial matters, devoid of any true Dao! And those pictures, the people in them were dressed provocatively (in his opinion), their actions frivolous, the scenes luxurious yet hollow...

Is this what the mortals of this world pay attention to?

Disorganized, chaotic, shallow, filled with desire and ignorance.

It was diametrically opposed to the Great Dao he pursued – to seize a sliver of heavenly secrets and transcend to freedom!

He casually clicked on a news item about "Rare Celestial Phenomenon Discovered in a Certain Area," which included a short video. When he saw that the thin "magic artifact" screen could dynamically display changing winds, clouds, lightning, and thunder, a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes again.

The mortals of this world, though lacking the power to move mountains and seas, have reached an inconceivable level in the path of 'artifacts.' To be able to record and reproduce celestial phenomena with such an exquisite object?

Is this considered 'peeking into heavenly secrets' in another sense?

However, this kind of peeking is superficial and misses the essence.

He patiently browsed a few more news items, trying to glean more information about this world. Politics, economy, technology, entertainment... A large number of unfamiliar words and concepts flooded his mind, giving him a vague and chaotic initial impression of this world – a "land devoid of spirits" with vastly different rules, a peculiar developmental trajectory, and sentient beings immersed in material enjoyment and spiritual anesthesia.

Just as he was about to close this "mind-disturbing" artifact, an inconspicuous short message tagged "Local" caught his eye.

Police Warning: Recently, there have been multiple attempted break-ins involving night stalking in our city. The suspect is at large. Citizens are advised to be vigilant...

Night... stalking... break-ins...

A cold glint flashed across Tong Tian's deep eyes.

He remembered the noisy "ants" outside his window last night.

So, such actions are also considered "crimes" in this world? It seems that although the laws are different here, there is still a basic order of operation.

He put down his phone, no longer paying attention to the overwhelming information. His gaze shifted back to the window. Although his divine sense couldn't reach far, with his naked eyes, he could see the endless stream of steel vehicles on the streets below and the high-rise buildings densely packed like a forest in the distance.

This was a crowded, noisy, yet meticulously operating mortal world governed by a certain order.

And he and Lin Fan were like two tiny specks of dust that had accidentally fallen into this intricate machine.

Especially Lin Fan.

Tong Tian recalled everything from last night until now. This mortal, frail and insignificant, struggling for a living, could be frightened by a few words, yet he had provided the most basic food and shelter when Tong Tian was at his weakest and most lost.

Although the food was "heavy with turbid energy" and the dwelling was simple and cramped, that tiny bit of goodwill seemed... different in this unfamiliar environment.

He was the legitimate descendant of Pangu, personally taught by Hongjun, the sect leader of the Intercepting Sect, who had roamed the Primordial Era for eons. When had he ever received kindness from an ant?

This karma had already been formed.

He just didn't know how this karma would be resolved in the future.

He closed his eyes again, no longer perceiving the outside world, but focusing his attention inward. Although his magic power was lost, the true spirit of a Sage, his comprehension of the Great Dao's rules (even if incompatible with this world's rules), and the supreme sword intent nurtured for countless years had not been completely annihilated. They were merely greatly suppressed and sealed.

Perhaps... he could start from this aspect?

He began to try, not to mobilize power, but to communicate with his intent, to nurture the trace of true sword intent hidden deep within the origin of his soul.

It was like carefully lighting a spark in boundless darkness.

At the company, Lin Fan was racing against time.

His fingers danced across the keyboard, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. The framework of the requirements document was already set up, and he was now filling in the details and optimizing the logic. Some of his colleagues were already discussing what to eat for lunch. The sound of keyboards clacking, hushed conversations, and the occasional ringing of telephones all became background noise that disturbed his focus.

The time pointed to eleven-thirty.

Only the last part of the core logic needed to be sorted out and articulated! Lin Fan took a large gulp of cold coffee, trying to calm his anxious mind.

Just then, his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket.

Lin Fan's heart skipped a beat. Who would call at this time? He pulled it out and saw that the screen was flashing the backup number he had given Tong Tian!

Why would he call? Did something happen?

Lin Fan's heart leaped into his throat. He glanced at the time in the bottom right corner of the screen, then at the document that was nearing completion. With a gritted teeth, he took his phone and quickly walked towards the stairwell.

He pressed the answer button, lowered his voice, and asked urgently, "Hello? Brother Tong Tian? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

On the other end of the line, there was silence for a few seconds. Only the faint, steady sound of breathing could be heard.

Just as Lin Fan thought the signal was bad and was about to ask again, Tong Tian's unique, calm voice came through, with a slight distortion characteristic of transmission over electricity:

"Nothing."

Lin Fan: "...?"

If nothing's wrong, why are you calling?! I'm in a crisis here!

He suppressed the urge to complain and patiently asked, "Really nothing? You didn't mess with the kitchen gas, did you? You didn't go out?"

"Never," Tong Tian's reply was still concise. "I was merely... testing if this 'magic artifact' was usable."

Lin Fan almost choked. He felt like he was about to have a heart attack. Brother! I'm in a life-or-death situation at the company, and you're at home playing with your phone testing its functions?!

"It's usable! Very usable!" Lin Fan practically gritted out the words. "Brother Tong Tian, I have a very urgent and important task at the company right now! It's crucial for my... well, my livelihood! Can you wait until I get back to test it?"

There was another silence on the other end, as if he was trying to understand the meaning of "livelihood." After a moment, a single word came:

"Can."

Then, the call was hung up, leaving only the busy signal in the receiver.

Lin Fan stood in the empty stairwell, holding his phone, feeling like he was about to collapse. He leaned against the cold wall, took a few deep breaths, and barely managed to suppress the urge to curse.

No more delays! He glanced at the time, eleven forty! Only twenty minutes left!

He rushed back to his workstation like a gust of wind, re-engaging in the battle with code and logic. The train of thought interrupted by the call needed to be reconnected, and the time pressure made his scalp tingle.

Finally, at eleven fifty-eight, Lin Fan's trembling hand clicked the send button on the email.

As the "Sent Successfully" prompt box popped up, he slumped onto his chair, as if he had just been pulled out of water, his entire body soaked in sweat.

He made it... he finally made it...

He closed his eyes wearily, his mind a complete blank.

However, before he could fully relax, a sarcastic voice sounded in his ear:

"Oh, Lin Fan, finished sending the requirements? Looks like a little pressure really boosts your efficiency, huh."

Lin Fan opened his eyes and saw that the project manager had somehow sneaked over again. He stood beside Lin Fan with his arms crossed and a nauseating fake smile on his face.

"Manager, the initial version has been sent to your email," Lin Fan said weakly, unable to even muster a perfunctory smile.

"Mm, I saw it," the manager said slowly, showing no intention of leaving. Instead, he leaned closer, lowered his voice, but his tone carried undisguised threat. "You're off the hook this time. But, Lin Fan, you need to know your place. The company doesn't support idlers, and it certainly doesn't support people who don't understand the 'rules.' Next time, I don't want to see any more 'surprises,' understand?"

His pointed gaze stabbed at Lin Fan like needles. The so-called "rules" were nothing more than urging him to be more submissive, even hinting that he needed to "show his appreciation."

Lin Fan clenched his fists again, a surge of anger rushing to his head. But looking at the other person's smug face, thinking about the mortgage, the living expenses, and the "ancestor" at home who still needed him to "support" them, the newfound backbone deflated like a pricked balloon, rapidly losing air.

He lowered his eyelids and replied in a low voice, "...Understood."

The manager patted his shoulder with satisfaction, the force not light. "Good that you understand. There's another meeting this afternoon, prepare yourself." With that, he turned and left, looking pleased with himself.

Lin Fan sat there, feeling like he had lost a battle, his entire body filled with a sense of powerlessness. The physical fatigue could be recovered, but this mental oppression and humiliation were like a persistent ulcer, gnawing at his dignity.

He glanced at the now grayed-out chat window on the computer screen, proof that he had just sent the email. He had finished his work, but felt no sense of accomplishment, only deeper fatigue and confusion.

When would this kind of day ever end?

In the rental room, Tong Tian put down the "old phone."

He wasn't ignorant of worldly affairs. He could hear the anxiety and tension in Lin Fan's voice on the phone just now, which he had tried hard to suppress but still managed to reveal.

"Livelihood..." he repeated the word softly. It seemed Lin Fan's situation in this world wasn't as stable as it appeared on the surface. That place called "company" seemed to harbor some kind of... oppression?

He recalled the Intercepting Sect he founded. It accepted all disciples, regardless of background, and offered a sliver of hope for all beings. Among his disciples, there were those who were rebellious and those who came from humble origins, but had they ever been in such a humiliating predicament? If any of his disciples were bullied like this, as their master, he would have long ago cleaved the mountain gate of the bully with his sword!

It was a pity, however...

He glanced at his current state of "powerlessness," his eyes dimming slightly.

Now, he could barely protect himself. It seemed... he couldn't do anything for the mortal who had provided him with a "sliver of hope" for the time being.

No, perhaps it wasn't entirely impossible.

He closed his eyes again. This time, he no longer tried to communicate with the ethereal Celestial Essence, nor did he attempt to expand his confined divine sense. Instead, he gathered all his thoughts, all his spirit, like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea, converging at one point—behind his tightly closed eyes.

He was mobilizing the supreme sword intent that originated from his soul's essence, the sword intent belonging to "Master Tongtian of the Supreme Clarity"!

This was not the application of energy, but the manifestation of will, a trace of the "Dao"!

The process was extremely difficult, like moving an arm through glue, or straightening one's spine under immense weight. The rules of this world were repelling and suppressing him, making it difficult for his transcendent nature to manifest.

But his will was incredibly resilient! It was a sage's heart that had endured immeasurable eons without fading!

A trace, just a trace, so faint it was almost imperceptible, began to condense and form in the depths of his closed eyes.

It was not light, not heat, but a concept of "severing," an intention of "destruction."

Time flowed by quietly.

After an unknown period, when Lin Fan, dragging his soul-drained, exhausted body, opened his apartment door with his key, he saw Tong Tian still meditating on the mat.

It seemed there was no change from when he had left in the morning.

Lin Fan sighed and casually tossed his briefcase onto a chair, too tired to even speak. He just wanted to collapse on his bed and sleep forever.

However, as he passed by Tong Tian, preparing to get a glass of water—

Tong Tian opened his eyes, without any warning.

It was as if two invisible bolts of lightning had suddenly flashed in the dim room!

Lin Fan's steps froze instantly, his entire body rigid as if under a paralyzing spell, his blood seemingly frozen in an instant!

He met a pair of eyes.

They were no longer the deep, ancient-well-like eyes he usually saw, nor the ones that occasionally flickered with curiosity and inquiry.

In the depths of those eyes, it was as if billions of infinitesimally fine sword shadows were being born and dying, intertwining and swirling! They were not tangible, yet they exuded a terrifying aura that could pierce through the void, sever karma, and destroy all laws! Cold, pure, supreme!

Just being swept by this gaze, Lin Fan felt as if his soul had been stripped bare and thrown into an ice-bound wasteland, or as if countless invisible swords were pointed at him, ready to tear him into the most basic particles in the next second! A primal fear, originating from the depths of his being, seized his heart, making it impossible for him to breathe or think!

What... what was this?!

Lin Fan's mind went blank, his only thought being—he was going to die! He would die in the next second!

The feeling came and went quickly.

Just as Lin Fan thought he was about to collapse, the billions of sword shadows in Tong Tian's eyes vanished like an illusion, returning to their usual depth and tranquility. It was as if the world-destroying sword intent from moments ago had never existed.

But the cold sweat that instantly broke out on Lin Fan's body, and the uncontrollable tremor still emanating from his soul, clearly told him that it was not an illusion!

Tong Tian looked at Lin Fan's pale, unsteady appearance and seemed to realize something. He frowned slightly and said in his usual calm tone, "I... had a moment of enlightenment just now and couldn't fully contain my aura."

A moment of enlightenment?!

Lin Fan opened his mouth, but his throat was so dry he couldn't make a sound. He leaned against the nearby table to keep himself from collapsing. He looked at Tong Tian, his eyes filled with unprecedented shock and... reverence.

He was now one hundred percent certain that this "ancestor" he had taken in was definitely not a film actor, nor a martial arts master!

The sword light in those eyes... that terrifying sword intent that was almost solidified... this was power beyond mortal imagination!

Who exactly was he?! Where did he come from?!

After speaking, Tong Tian paid no further attention to Lin Fan's shock. He closed his eyes again, seemingly savoring and consolidating the insight from condensing that "trace" of sword intent.

Although faint, it was undoubtedly a good start. In this "land of spiritual desolation," he might have found another way to recover and adapt.

However, this method seemed... not very friendly to the mortals around him.

A deathly silence fell upon the room.

Lin Fan leaned against the table, gasping for breath, his heart still pounding. He looked at Tong Tian, who had entered his meditative state again, and an idea uncontrollably surfaced—

Keeping such a being, whose eyes could unleash sword light at any moment and whose aura could scare someone to death, by his side, was it a blessing... or a curse?

Just then, his own phone, lying in the briefcase he had tossed onto the chair, suddenly rang, breaking the suffocating silence.

The ringtone persisted, and the screen displayed an unfamiliar local number.

Lin Fan's heart, not yet fully recovered from the previous shock, tightened again at the sudden ring.

A bad premonition, like a cold snake, coiled around his heart.