The Immortal Was Not in the Mountains

The news spread faster than the wind.

First it was discussed inside the Soaring Tower, then among the Rogue Cultivator, and finally even in taverns and teahouses.

Near several towns under the jurisdiction of Qingzhou Prefecture, someone killed Tiger Spirit with a tree branch, which was stuck in the ground and no one could pull it out.

Cultivator at the seventh level cannot pull it out, nor can one at the ninth level.

How strong must that person be?

Celestial Person?

As a result, more and more people gathered in the ravine where the tiger's corpse was located.

There were curious Martial Practitioner, resentful Rogue Cultivator, wandering sorcerers who thought themselves invincible, and idle wanderers who were simply there to join in the fun.

Without exception, they all returned empty-handed.

The branch was still the same branch, about half a person's height and as thick as a thumb, stuck straight in the soil, not moving an inch.

As more people came, and more people couldn't get out, the rumors became increasingly exaggerated.

Some say that the tree branch was casually broken off by Immortal and stuck there, waiting for a destined person to join it.

Whoever can pull it out will possess divine talent, ascend to heaven in one step, and transcend the mortal realm to become a saint.

As for Immortal and where he was, no one knew.

Soaring Tower, along with several other forces, has secretly sent people to investigate the nearest three directions: Willow Creek Town, Azure Maple Ferry, and Sunset Glow Ravine.

They even searched places further afield.

In various towns, more unfamiliar faces began to appear. Occasionally, a few out-of-towners dressed in tight-fitting clothes could be seen walking on the streets, their eyes scanning the crowd.

But none of this has anything to do with Qin Wangchuan.

Life in Willow Creek Town continued as usual.

After the academy closed, Qin Wangchuan had one less thing to look forward to, so he could continue both blacksmithing and studying medicine.

Although I initially studied medicine for my master.

Now that the master is gone, the study of medicine must continue.

After all, this is not the Immortal Court, and we will lose even more people in the future.

But the difference is...

Then, he won't feel as powerless as he does now.

It's not that I'm afraid of losing it, it's that I'm afraid of not being able to do anything when I do lose it.

That day.

Qin Wangchuan was forging iron in the backyard.

The fire in the stove was burning brightly, and the flames licked the stove wall, making half of his face turn red.

With each swing of the hammer, iron filings flew, and sparks flickered before him.

Sweat slid down his chin, hitting the red-hot iron ingot and turning into a wisp of white smoke with a hiss.

A series of hurried footsteps came from the front yard and stopped outside the door.

White Dew lay under the eaves, her ears twitching.

It's someone I know.

Immediately afterwards, there was a knock on the door.

White Dew stood up, slowly strolled to the door, and with a paw, opened it a crack.

The person outside the door paused for a moment before pushing the door open and coming in.

Fan Yuan stood at the door, looking exhausted, with several wrinkles between his brows, as if he had been traveling for days and hadn't slept much.

He had volunteered to go out and find a remedy for the Master's illness, and he traveled to several places and visited several fellow practitioners.

Before the prescription could be found, news of the master's death reached their ears first.

Silently, I walked into the courtyard and followed the tinkling sound to the backyard.

In the backyard, Qin Wangchuan, shirtless, gripped a hammer and pounded the iron blank again and again.

The hammer blows were steady and rhythmic.

The Master's death left no trace on him.

Or rather, it didn't leave behind what others thought should have been there.

There was no collapse, no despair, not even a sigh.

Blacksmithing is an obsession left behind by the Immortal Court; studying medicine is a warning left by the Master.

One made him no longer weak, and the other made him stop watching helplessly.

He will keep going.

Fan Yuan stopped a few steps away, looking at the retreating figure. His lips moved, but he hesitated to speak.

Qin Wangchuan didn't turn around, and brought the hammer down again, sparks flying.

"Have a seat," he said calmly.

There is an old Wooden Stool in the corner of the courtyard.

That was brought by Qin Zhaoer; she liked to sit there and watch Qin Wangchuan forge iron.

It was almost lunchtime, so she went back to cook.

Fan Yuan didn't sit down; he stood there, a look of shame on his face.

"Sir, you have been kind to me, but I haven't been able to help you in any way..." His voice was a little dry, "I have failed you."

"Ashamed?" Qin Wangchuan's hammer didn't stop. "Did you just stand by and watch?"

Fan Yuan's expression changed, and he waved his hands repeatedly. "Since you are in trouble, sir, I will do my best to help you. How could I stand by and watch!"

"He traveled far and wide, seeking a solution."

Qin Wangchuan flipped the red-hot iron billet over and brought it down with another hammer blow, sparks flying in front of him.

"This is the fate of Mortal World. As Cultivator and not a resident of this town, you could have simply ignored it."

Having gone this far, what is there to be ashamed of?

"Clang!"

The final hammer blow was the heaviest and the most decisive.

Qin Wangchuan paused.

He glanced down at the iron blank on the anvil, placed the hammer steadily down, and casually put the fire tongs aside as well.

As the activity ceased, the courtyard fell silent for a moment, with only the crackling of the stove fire.

He took the coarse cloth draped over the wooden frame and slowly wiped the grime from his hands and the light sweat from his forehead.

After doing all this, he slowly straightened up and turned around.

The fire burned silently behind him, its intense heat illuminating half of the boy's body in a crimson glow, while the other half remained hidden in shadow.

Their eyes met.

Golden eyes gazed silently, deep as an abyss, proud as a god.

The subtle air of transcendence he exuded caused the centenarian Fan Yuan to instinctively avert his gaze and lower his head slightly.

However, there was no condescending indifference in Qin Wangchuan's eyes.

On the contrary, looking at the tense centenarian Cultivator, a gentle tenderness towards the sincere heart of a mortal was revealed in his eyes.

The coarse cloth was put back on the wooden frame.

Qin Wangchuan stepped forward, cupped his hands slightly, and bowed his head in a very solemn manner.

"You've done everything you could, coming all this way."

"Qin Wangchuan thanks you on behalf of the Master."

Thank you.

Fan Yuan was taken aback, somewhat flustered by the sudden bow. He quickly stepped aside to avoid a half-bow, then hurriedly returned the bow, saying, "Sir, you are... too kind of me."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of."

Qin Wangchuan straightened up, his expression calm. "You've gone to great lengths to seek medical help, and you've shown me kindness and consideration. You deserve this courtesy."

Fan Yuan opened his mouth, looking at the young man in front of him who, despite his young age, possessed a profound and unyielding spirit.

For a moment, I didn't know how to respond.

"However, a verbal thank you is ultimately insufficient."

Qin Wangchuan turned around, his gaze sweeping over the somewhat empty backyard, and gave a self-deprecating smile, "It's just that my family is poor, and I don't have any rare treasures to give away."

As he spoke, he walked to the wooden frame in the corner of the backyard.

Several sword blanks of varying lengths were haphazardly stacked on it.

He forged many swords during this period, but most of them were broken. The ones on the shelf were mostly defective products that were completely black and covered with cracks.

Some broke off during quenching as soon as the outline was drawn, while others, with their rough hammer marks, became scrap metal.

At first glance, anyone would think it's just a pile of scraps discarded in a blacksmith's shop.

Only at the deepest part of the wooden frame was there a long sword.

It has no elaborate carvings, just a double-edged blade, standing there coldly.

Among this pile of broken scrap metal, it may not be considered a divine Sharp Weapon, but its strength lies in its perfectly straight frame.

It is also the only thing among this pile of unfinished products that can barely be called a "sword".

Qin Wangchuan raised his hand and grasped the sword, turning to look at Fan Yuan: "I've forged many swords these past few days, most of them are ruined, only this one is barely complete."

"If you don't mind, please take it."

Fan Yuan subconsciously looked at the sword Qin Wangchuan had handed him.

If a swordsman from the mortal realm were to see this, he would probably think that this young man was making fun of people with a tattered weapon.

But Fan Yuan is different.

Having obtained the previous cultivation technique, he had already taken a step into the "Celestial Being Realm," a realm coveted by countless Rogue Cultivators.

And that is why, the instant his gaze met that straight blade—

Boom!

A tremendous wave suddenly surged within Fan Yuan's Sea of Consciousness!

In his eyes, the backyard, the hearth, the boy, and even the entire Willow Creek Town vanished in an instant.

Instead, a terrifying divine sword, so enormous it defied description and almost Covering the Sky and Sun, descended upon him with unparalleled sharpness capable of slicing through everything!