Ke Meng woke of his own accord, turned his head, and saw a short sword lying on the floor.
The short sword was rather short. Just how short? By his estimate, it was only ten centimeters long.
Though small, it was exquisitely crafted. Its blade was silvery white, with a polished surface as clear and reflective as a mirror.
The hilt itself was golden, with a thin guard and a round grip tightly wrapped in crisscrossing golden threads.
Such a tiny sword gave off a sense of peerless perfection. Simply looking at it was a pleasure.
Tangyuan rolled over, barking loudly, its delight plain to see.
White Sugar squawked repeatedly as well. Even a Sand Sculpture cried out at its beauty, utterly taken with the sword.
Ke Meng wholeheartedly agreed. This sword really did look amazing.
Wait, how could a dog and a bird both find it beautiful? Did their tastes really align?
Ke Meng believed different species had different standards of beauty. They should not arrive at such an absurdly identical judgment.
Ke Meng realized something was wrong. There was probably something odd about this sword.
He glanced at the blade. How could anything be wrong with such a perfect sword?
Ke Meng was becoming a little obsessed, convinced that this perfect sword had no problems whatsoever and that there was no need to bring out the Big-Faced Cat.
But then he remembered that he still had to take the sword to the Testing Bureau. Otherwise, he would have to explain himself when he brought it out to use later.
Better to test it sooner than later. He might as well run a test now.
Ke Meng overcame his inner conviction of its perfection and brought out the Big-Faced Cat to test it. He fed it a dried fish,