Jiang Yuechu stopped in her tracks.
She hesitantly looked back.
Though she had never been particularly versed in poetry or literature, in either this life or her last, her memory had always been good.
The broken sword she had casually tossed aside earlier had clearly been leaning against a piece of rusted iron, its tip pointing left.
Why was its tip pointing right now, and why had it moved half an inch inward?
Its position had changed.
Jiang Yuechu stared expressionlessly at the offering table for a moment without making a sound.
She silently turned back, lifted her foot, and took another two steps forward.
Then.
She abruptly stopped and whipped around.
The pile of scrap metal that had seemed utterly lifeless was now sliding its blades along the tabletop, sneaking furtively toward the shadows at the very back of the offering table.
When Jiang Yuechu suddenly looked back.
All the broken swords and scraps of iron instantly froze, motionless, their previous movements vanishing into thin air.
Hiss.
Jiang Yuechu sucked in a cold breath.
A strange look flickered across her lovely face.
Was one of the mighty Nine Great Dao Sects haunted in broad daylight?
But the thought lingered in her mind for only a moment before she shook it away.
This wasn't her previous life. Ghosts were hardly unusual in a fantasy world...
If something strange was going on, that made things easy.
Jiang Yuechu hesitated no longer. Her black robes stirred, and she appeared before the offering table in an instant.
Without the slightest attempt to probe, she stepped forward decisively, curled her fingers, and seized the hiltless broken sword that had hidden the fastest.
[Flesh-and-Bone Furnace] activated.
Surging energy poured down her arm and straight into the broken sword, instantly making it clear that she intended