Qian Renxue lay sprawled on the ground, completely dumbfounded.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What just happened?
She hurriedly called out to the Angel Holy Sword through her divine sense, trying to summon it back.
But this time, the Angel Holy Sword directly blocked her divine sense and ignored her completely.
It continued circling Qian Ye, sometimes rubbing its hilt against the back of his hand, sometimes letting out cheerful sword cries as it did everything it could to please him.
Qian Renxue's composure completely collapsed at that moment.
The Angel Godhood was inherited through this Holy Sword.
Ever since inheriting the godhood, she had used her divine power to nourish the Holy Sword every day and carefully wiped its blade. She had cared for it more attentively than she cared for herself.
Yet even so, the Angel Holy Sword had only occasionally shown her the slightest bit of affection.
In her understanding, the Angel Holy Sword should have been proud, sacred, and inviolable.
But now?
How had this incomparably aloof divine artifact turned into a... shameless suck-up?
Qian Renxue struggled to her feet. Without bothering to straighten her rumpled clothes, she fixed Qian Ye with her beautiful eyes.
She finally realized that the man before her was far from as simple as he appeared.
Thinking of how much his features resembled the Angel Statue, along with the Angel Holy Sword's abnormal behavior, a bold speculation arose in her heart.
An ancestor of the Qian Clan?
At that thought, Qian Renxue's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and even her breathing became hurried.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the shock in her heart, then respectfully bowed to Qian Ye.
"This junior, Qian Renxue, pays respects to Senior."
"I beg Senior to lend a hand and help this junior completely control the Angel Holy Sword!"
"This junior... is willing to take Senior as my master!"
Faced with Qian Renxue's request to become his disciple, Qian Ye's expression did not change in the slightest. He merely shook his head faintly.
"I have nothing to teach you."
Qian Renxue froze at his words.
She had been refused?
She was the Angel God. She had voluntarily asked to become his disciple, yet she had been rejected?
Qian Ye's gaze fell upon her, as though he could see through every thought in her heart.
"On the path of the sword, where could there be shortcuts?"
"If you wish to completely control it, then comprehend it yourself. Asking others is useless."
Qian Renxue bit her soft lower lip, unwillingness rising within her.
Comprehend it?
How could that be easy!
The battle at Jialing Pass was imminent, and Tang San had already become a god. Where did she have the time to slowly seek enlightenment?
She took a step forward. Her slender legs, wrapped in a golden gown, tensed and outlined astonishing curves.
"Senior!"
"This junior knows there are no shortcuts in the way of the sword, but Spirit Hall is in grave danger now. This junior truly has no time left!"
Qian Ye looked at her anxious expression, and at last a trace of emotion stirred in his eyes. He let out a soft sigh.
"Foolish child, why must you go so far?"
Qian Renxue heard the softening in his tone, and joy filled her heart. She hurriedly said:
"Senior does not know!"
"The Qian Clan's ancestral teachings state: descendants of the Qian Clan must use the sword in their hands to defend peace in this world and protect the people of the continent!"
"Now that Tang San has become a god, he seeks to overturn the continent's order and ignite endless war. As a descendant of the Qian Clan and the young mistress of Spirit Hall, this junior cannot shirk her responsibility!"
Her words were forceful and resounding.
"This junior knows I do not have absolute confidence in defeating Tang San. Now that I have met Senior, this is this junior's only chance!"
"I beg Senior to lend me your strength!"
Qian Ye was completely stunned upon hearing this.
The Qian Clan's ancestral teachings...
Defend peace in this world, protect the people of the continent...
Wasn't that something he had casually said tens of thousands of years ago?
Back then, he had possessed some youthful passion as well.
He had never expected his descendants to treat it as an ancestral teaching and pass it down through generation after generation.
Looking at this descendant connected to him by blood, running about for the sake of that promise and even willing to set aside the dignity of a god to kneel before him, Qian Ye's heart finally softened.
Qian Renxue keenly caught the change in Qian Ye's expression and knew that her opportunity had come.
Without hesitation, she immediately dropped to both knees and performed the formal ceremony of taking a master.
"Disciple Qian Renxue pays respects to Master!"
This time, she bowed extremely low, her forehead touching the ground as she displayed her resolve and sincerity to the fullest.
That movement made her already outstanding figure even more prominent.
Her golden gown clung tightly to her body, tracing a breathtakingly perfect curve from her slender waist to her firm, rounded hips.
Beneath the hem of her dress, the contours of her legs—works of art in their own right—were clearly defined, full of strength and supple beauty, impossible to look away from.
This time, Qian Ye did not refuse again.
He raised a hand and grasped at empty air.
"Hum."
With a soft hum, a sword appeared in his hand.
It was a broken sword.
Its blade was covered in rust, its edge was full of chips, and its tip had been cleanly snapped off. It looked like a piece of junk dug out of a pile of scrap iron—utterly ordinary, even somewhat ugly.
This sword was Qian Ye's life-bound sword, forged from ordinary iron after he abandoned the Angel Godhood and rebuilt his path of the sword, ultimately evolving from his martial soul.
In pursuit of the Great Dao, Qian Ye had shattered his own life-bound sword ten thousand years ago.
Even so.
The might of this broken sword.
Still surpassed that of a super divine artifact!
When Qian Renxue saw the sword, she was completely bewildered.
What... was this thing?
This?
Senior, you took out something like this?
She even wondered whether its edge would chip if she used it to chop firewood.
Qian Ye did not care about her expression and casually tossed the broken sword toward her.
"From today onward, you will use this sword."
The broken sword floated lightly down before Qian Renxue and embedded itself in the ground without making a sound.
Qian Ye looked at the broken sword, a trace of remembrance appearing in his eyes.
Once, he had traveled the world with this sword, comprehending the way of the sword and cutting through thorns.
Once his swordsmanship had reached the divine, this one sword could slay gods!
Only later did the Iron Sword martial soul shatter, and he came into the mortal world.
Divine objects concealed their brilliance; the Great Dao was simplicity itself.
Only when one's swordsmanship reached the pinnacle could one detect the terrifying sharpness contained within this broken sword.
Nearby, the Angel Holy Sword, which had been happily circling Qian Ye, instantly froze the moment the broken sword appeared.
Even its golden radiance dimmed. Its blade trembled slightly, like a mouse that had seen a cat, not daring to make the slightest sound.
Unfortunately, Qian Renxue's cultivation was too low for her to sense any of it.
In her eyes, this was simply a junk sword.
She even began to wonder whether the man before her was truly an ordinary person.
Perhaps he had merely used some unknown method to temporarily bewilder the Angel Holy Sword?
Otherwise, why would he take out a worthless piece of scrap metal?
Though she grumbled endlessly in her heart, she did not dare reveal the slightest hint of it on her face. Respectfully, she pulled out the broken sword and stored it in her Soul Tool.
"Thank you, Master, for bestowing this sword."
Qian Ye saw the doubt and disdain deep in her eyes, but he could not be bothered to explain.
Some things needed to be comprehended by her alone.
Before you continue