This Place Was Not Where He Belonged

The three-year mourning period is over, which means that the white clothes that have been worn for three years can finally be taken off.

The happiest person was none other than the person who was with them.

"Finally here!"

Qin Zhaoer practically leaped into the backyard, carrying a neatly folded stack of clothes in her arms. As soon as she entered, she gestured to Qin Wangchuan.

For the past three years, she had seen that plain dress so often that she was tired of it and wanted to vomit.

Unfortunately, the mourning period is approaching, so no matter how displeasing they are, they can't complain or change anything; they can only wait.

Now the wait has finally come to an end.

These clothes were all prepared by her long ago. She picked and chose the fabrics and patterns again and again, saving them up for a full six months!

"Don't move."

She tiptoed, draped a moon-white long robe over his shoulder, took two steps back, and squinted as she looked him up and down.

"This one... is nice."

"Um!"

He put it down and changed into another one.

He compared them and wrinkled his nose.

"This one is just missing something."

He snorted in an annoyed tone.

"That old lady selling clothes even patted her chest and said, 'You'll look great in these—what a load of bull! If she dares to spout such nonsense again, I'll flip her stall over!"

Qin Wangchuan let her gesture, and unusually interjected with a comment.

"When someone sells something, they don't boast about how bad the quality is."

"You can't lie!" Qin Zhaoer retorted, her neck stiff with conviction.

He cursed fiercely, but his hands never stopped.

They held up one item to him, nodding as they compared each one.

"Keep this one."

"This one will do too, let's keep it."

As she picked through the clothes, most of the pile of garments in her arms was gone.

Without asking Qin Wangchuan's opinion, she laid out the selected items one by one and arranged them in order.

"Wear this moon-white outfit today."

"Change into the bamboo green one tomorrow."

"The day after tomorrow... the day after tomorrow, this stone blue one."

One after another.

She meticulously planned out what everyone would wear for the next few days, leaving no room for anyone to object.

As she was browsing, Qin Zhaoer belatedly realized what was happening, paused, and circled around Qin Wangchuan.

"I was wondering why I never noticed before—"

"With your physique, you're a clothes hanger that can wear anything."

"The sun must have risen in the west." Qin Wangchuan raised an eyebrow. "So Eighth Sister can actually give compliments."

"Stop talking nonsense." Qin Zhaoer rolled her eyes at him, but her hands didn't stop.

Qin Wangchuan smiled, didn't reply, and turned to glance into the house.

The wardrobe standing in the corner was already crammed full, and the doors could barely close properly.

That was the second bite.

That's right, the second bite.

This wasn't the first time Qin Zhaoer had sent these clothes.

In Qin Wangchuan's view, this was not the Immortal Court, where the Qin Clan's reputation needed to be considered.

Clothes are simply things that are clean, fit well, and can be worn.

He never really cared much about the fabric or the pattern.

If I had any concerns, it would only be that having too many clothes would make washing and changing them a real headache.

Qin Zhaoer, however, thought differently.

The two of them were never on the same page.

Fortunately, he didn't have to clean the clothes himself when they got dirty.

It goes without saying who exactly is in charge of it.

After choosing her clothes and giving her instructions, Qin Zhaoer was satisfied and walked out humming an off-key tune.

Their steps were so light they seemed about to leap.

As she passed under the Jujube Tree, she saw White Dew lying there and didn't forget to greet her warmly.

"Let's go, Dead Deer."

White Dew lazily lifted her eyelids, glanced at her, and then closed them again.

For ordinary people, three years is a time of growing taller and graying temples.

But for a deer that had already developed intelligence...

Three years have passed in the blink of an eye, leaving not even a trace.

It still retains that same snow-white, languid appearance as it did back then.

The only difference is that White Dew now possesses the ability to wield Law Technique.

Qin Wangchuan withdrew his gaze.

Just then, the courtyard gate was pushed open, and a figure entered.

It's Jiang Zhuo.

Three years had passed, and the heroic spirit honed in battle had only grown stronger.

Qin Wangchuan noticed at a glance that the white hair at his temples had increased considerably compared to before.

"Eldest Brother Jiang."

Jiang Zhuo nodded in agreement, her gaze passing over him and landing on the backyard.

"I've come to get that thing."

They were referring to custom-made weapons.

In earlier years, all the weapons used in the martial arts school were made by Song, the Blacksmith Song in the town.

However, Blacksmith Song only had two hands, and his schedule was always packed, so he often had to wait ten days or half a month for a turn.

Those who couldn't wait opted for a less desirable option and placed their orders with Qin Wangchuan instead.

Initially, it was mostly out of consideration for Qin Rang's relationship, a gesture of helping out and taking care of the business, without expecting anything of great value.

But when they got their hands on it and used it, they were all stunned.

In terms of appearance and the fine details of the decorations, it naturally cannot compare to the skillful craftsmanship of the Blacksmith Song.

Those who wield weapons always prioritize ease of use and durability.

Qin Wangchuan's forging of these was flawless.

As more and more people came to us, we gradually became overwhelmed with work.

The two went into the backyard together.

On the workbench, three swords and two knives were neatly arranged.

Jiang Zhuo reached out and drew a knife; the moment it was unsheathed, his eyes lit up.

The blade was gleaming, its chilling aura palpable, its sharpness undisguised and blatant.

He picked up another sword and slowly drew it.

This time, the admiration in his eyes was even deeper.

"I've seen it so many times, but I still find it amazing."

"Your knife is sharp and deadly; it looks like a good weapon for killing."

"But this sword..."

Jiang Zhuo paused, seemingly considering the wording, but ultimately couldn't find a suitable way to express it.

"I can't quite put my finger on it. I just feel like there's something else hidden inside."

Qin Wangchuan didn't reply, he just smiled.

Jiang Zhuo sheathed his sword and changed the subject.

When will you expedite the shipment process?

"Only three to five games a week is simply not enough."

"There's nothing we can do if it's not enough." Qin Wangchuan shook his head. "Blacksmithing may look rough, but it's actually a delicate job. You can't rush it."

Jiang Zhuo also knew that she couldn't force it.

Besides, he knew that blacksmithing was just one of this man's livelihoods.

During these three years, Qin Wangchuan also worked as a doctor, and was often invited to make house calls. His reputation for miraculous healing had spread far and wide.

A blacksmith shop, busy with both weapons and medical treatment, kept its feet constantly on the ground.

It's already a favor that they were able to spare some time to practice these few matches at the martial arts school.

Thinking of this, Jiang Zhuo felt a sense of relief.

This kid is doing better and better.

Good!

Having taken the weapon, Jiang Zhuo didn't linger. He thanked him and left.

He had just stepped out of the alley.

Then there was another knock on the courtyard gate.

The door wasn't locked. The person pushed it open a crack, poked half their body in, and hesitated for a moment.

"Master Qin, are you open for business yet today?"

According to usual schedule, the shop shouldn't be open for business yet.

"Not yet." Qin Wangchuan replied without looking up, then continued:

Come in.

The man who came was the manager of the Zhenxi Rice Shop, who had arranged to pick up a newly forged wood-chopping knife today.

After seeing off the rice shopkeeper, before he could even rest for a moment, another person came knocking on the door.

There were farmers who had ordered farm tools, women who came to get medicine, and travelers who had come from afar to ask for a sword.

One wave after another, the courtyard gate was almost never truly closed.

While dealing with the people picking up the goods, Qin Wangchuan also had to keep an eye on the work on the stove.

Occasionally, when asked about medical principles, I have to stop and answer a few questions.

I'm really busy.

Yet, he lived these days of comings and goings, amidst the smoke and fire of daily life, without haste or impatience, finding an indescribable sense of peace within himself.

After seeing off the last guest, it was already late at night.

Qin Wangchuan closed the courtyard gate and looked back. Several lights were still on in the front yard, making the small courtyard warm and cozy.

Rice, oil, salt—it's all about give and take.

These kinds of days are actually not bad.

Very good.

He doesn't dislike it.

But when he turned around and went to the backyard, his gaze fell on the sword in the corner of the workbench, and something in his heart finally surfaced.

It was a sword forged from Mortal Iron, its blade riddled with cracks, reforged to resemble its original appearance.

Qin Wangchuan walked over, his fingertips tracing the cracks, and whispered its name.

"The Ten Directions Profound Sword..."

A hint of urgency, something he would never normally show, flashed across his eyes.

He knew better than anyone what that sword should look like.

It contains ten imperial laws and can absorb all laws and weapons.

Such an Emperor Sword.

Such a powerful sword!

I long to return to the Immortal Court immediately, retrieve materials worthy of it, and forge it myself.

The thought had barely formed when Qin Wangchuan suppressed it.

"Not yet."

He let out a soft breath.

"It's not working yet."

Life was peaceful and comfortable.

But beneath this comfort lies a wisp of clarity that can never be dispelled.

No matter how wonderful Willow Creek Town is, it's just a stop along the way.

When this life comes to an end, when that door opens, when I return to the Immortal Court.

That was the moment the Emperor Sword was born.