Extreme in Emotion, Extreme in Sword

The depths of winter had passed. The frozen rivers were beginning to thaw, and fresh buds appeared on old trees. Though a thin layer of snow still lingered in the mountains, spring had already quietly arrived.

Mount Huamei resembled a famous place in Jiangdong, with its beautiful scenery and winding paths. Birds were already singing among the hills, and more hunters were making their way into the mountains, making the place even more lively.

This time, although Ice Fairy Ye Yuqi had not yet returned from her travels, Meng Qi knew the place well and was familiar with its people. Guided by a disciple, he entered the Back Mountain and saw the ordinary thatched hut, along with the unadorned grave beside it.

Master Lu still wore a simple blue robe. Bent over with a hoe in hand, he was clearing weeds from among the Rare Flowers and plants around the grave. He was wholly absorbed, oblivious to everything else. The famous long sword that followed the law as soon as it left its scabbard lay quietly at his side.

With his realm and skill, he could have controlled the sword in his hand to clear weeds and kill pests with a wave, without harming a single flower. Yet he did not. Instead, he seemed to be carrying out the most valuable and artistic task in all the world. His movements were measured and unhurried, imbued with the utmost reverence. Anyone watching would forget their sorrows and worries, become immersed in his focus, and enjoy an indescribable peace.

Meng Qi stood quietly beside the thatched hut. He did not go forward to pay his respects and interrupt Master Lu's work. Instead, he simply watched in rapt attention, as if he had returned to the time he spent observing carvings in Maoling.