A sword named Autumn Water

The temple master let out a long, wistful sigh.

"Back then, I became so enthralled by the sword moves and footwork of the Body Sword Art that I foolishly cast the very foundation of Qi Refining to the back of my mind.

"Without vigorous blood and qi, how could I wield a longsword? Without sufficient magical power, how could I tread the celestial steps of the Dipper? What courage could there be? What adaptability?

"Thinking back now, someone once scolded me for practicing a mortal's swordsmanship. They weren't wrong. I brought disgrace upon the Body Sword Art."

Yunqi was not good at comforting others. He only said, "You're being too hard on yourself, Temple Master."

The old temple master stood with his back to Yunqi, stroking his beard and sighing deeply. In truth, however, Daoist Zhenwei was pulling faces, casting sidelong glances at Yunqi.

"Yunqi, half my body is withered bones, and my youth is gone. Yet the sword I carried in my younger days remains as good as new. It rests in its case, and every autumn night, it rings like a dragon calling. But I'm too ashamed to face my old friend!"

Yunqi did not know what the temple master was trying to say.

The temple master continued, "Come. Since you happen to be here today, lend me some of that youthful spirit and come take a look with me!"

With that, he seized Yunqi's wrist and left before Yunqi could say a word.

The temple master, who claimed half his body was withered bones, strode like a dragon and paced like a tiger. In no time, he had pulled Yunqi all the way to his residence.

"Guilty Heart Residence."

A somewhat peculiar name.

The Daoist asked Yunqi to sit in the main room while he went to fetch the sword from his bedroom.

The Guilty Heart Residence was sparsely furnished. Apart from everyday household items, its only decorations were a few potted plants.

Soon, the temple master returned to the main room and sat beside Yunqi, placing the sword case he carried on the table between them.

His hands trembled slightly as he slowly opened the lid.

A chill escaped.

Yunqi leaned forward to look. At first sight, he found the sword extraordinarily beautiful.

It looked like a sword worn during the former Song dynasty, possessing the distinctive elegance of Song swords. His first impression was of beauty tempered with strength, like a lean old flood dragon.

The sword was slender and somewhat narrow, about three feet six inches long overall. It was still sheathed, its main body black, but without any gloss. It did not look like ordinary lacquer; gazing at it was like looking into a deep pool. The guard and pommel were silvery white, shaped like curling clouds, yet also like rolling waves. Silver wire wrapped the throat and chape at either end of the scabbard, likewise forming patterns of clouds and water.

Its cleverest feature, however, was this: regulation Song swords were worn using two suspension rings on the scabbard, but this sword had none. Instead, a single slide sat at its center, a style of suspension dating back to before the Qin. A jade slide was set into the scabbard, carved from mutton-fat jade in the shape of a hornless dragon. The dragon looked poised to plunge into the black pool, one foreclaw and one hind claw already reaching into it, while its body remained outside, forming a hollow opening.

The dragon-shaped jade slide softened the severity of the sword's stark black and white.

"What a beautiful sword!"

Yunqi exclaimed in admiration.

The old Daoist's gaze grew especially gentle as it fell upon the sword. Rather than touching it himself, however, he told Yunqi, "Pick it up and have a look."

Yunqi had fallen in love with the sword at first sight. Since its owner had offered, he dispensed with polite refusals, nodded, and reached out with his left hand to grasp it.

It was icy to the touch, like lake water on an autumn morning, cold enough to make him shiver. It was also much heavier than he had imagined, quite at odds with its slender appearance.

Yunqi lifted the sword out with one hand, rested it upright on his leg, and examined it closely.

Only then did he see clearly that the black of the scabbard and hilt was neither lacquer nor some kind of iron, but something resembling animal horn. He could not identify what sort of horn it was, only that it was exceptionally cold and profoundly black.

The guard, pommel, scabbard throat, and chape looked like silver and yet like iron, apparently all made from the same material. Had Yunqi not thought the old temple master lacked such deep pockets, he would have taken it for Snowflake Silver.

"Draw it."

The old temple master spoke.

Yunqi stood and gripped the hilt with his right hand. It felt as though he held a block of ice in each hand.

Clang!

The longsword left its sheath, cold radiance spilling in every direction, as though moonlight had been hidden inside.

Yunqi looked at the blade. About two feet five inches long, it had the clear brightness of silvery iron-like the moon, like a mirror, like cold frost, like autumn waters.

On the ridge of the blade beneath the cloud-and-water guard, two characters were engraved in Cloud Clerical Script.

"Autumn Water."

That was the sword's name.

"Autumn Water."

Yunqi read it aloud.

Seated in his chair, the old temple master looked at Yunqi standing with the sword, and at Autumn Water in his hand.

"From the very first moment I laid eyes on Autumn Water, I was bewitched," the temple master said softly. "Sword-Casting Mountain was about to cleanse a batch of swords. You know how many swords there are on Sword-Casting Mountain. Who knows how many lie gathering dust in its vaults? Fate brought us together. That was when I met Autumn Water."

Yunqi nodded. Sword-Casting Mountain had several sword vaults. Some swords had been seized as spoils, some offered as tribute by subordinate sects, and some forged and sold by disciples within the sect. There were also sword-loving elders and disciples who, unwilling to have their treasured swords buried with them, donated them to the vaults before passing away in meditation.

There were many swords in the vaults, but Sword-Casting Mountain never handed them out to disciples without cause. Even its True Disciples had to pay real gold and silver for a sword from the vaults, or complete a sword-acquisition task set by the mountain's elders. In short, no one obtained one easily.

Every so often, Sword-Casting Mountain would bring a portion of the swords out of its vaults to cleanse them in the sword pool. Anyone who took a fancy to one could offer to buy it, at a somewhat lower price than choosing it from the vaults at other times.

Yunqi had not been particularly lucky, however. During his year in the sect, Sword-Casting Mountain had never opened its vaults for a sword cleansing.

Daoist Zhenwei had encountered one that year.

He remembered it clearly. It had been his third year in the sect, and he still possessed only a standard refined-iron sword, issued to him by the sect as a registered disciple of Sword-Casting Mountain.

He was frugal and had taken on many odd jobs at the General Affairs Office, so he had saved some money and metal-essence minerals. He hoarded them all instead of pouring them into his sole refined-iron sword. Deep down, he did not much like that sword. He wanted to save enough to buy one more to his liking, but his aspirations were lofty, and what he had was still insufficient to buy a sword that truly moved him.

Then, one day, word spread through the mountain that the vaults would be opened for a sword cleansing.

He knew his chance had come. He went without sleep the night before and arrived beside the sword pool to wait.

When the swords were cleansed, their dazzling light nearly blinded him.

Like the people beside him, he forced his eyes wide, searching through the sword light despite tears streaming down like rain.

Until he saw Autumn Water.

Autumn Water was not nimble like the flying swords, darting and battling through the pool. Nor did it possess the abundant sword intent of the spell swords, churning the water into waves. It simply stood quietly planted in the sword pool.

Daoist Zhenwei was instantly drawn to it. This was precisely what he wanted: a sword of ancient simplicity and limpid beauty. When he saw a flying sword dart through the pool and strike Autumn Water, only for Autumn Water to remain utterly unmoved, he made up his mind on the spot. Autumn Water it would be.

Perhaps he alone had seen the flying sword rebound from Autumn Water amid that dazzling web of sword light. Or perhaps Autumn Water's appearance was simply too unremarkable. With no one else showing any interest, he actually managed to obtain it.

He offered all his money and metal-essence minerals, the hard currency of sword cultivators. Though it still was not enough, the elder overseeing the cleansing handed Autumn Water to him anyway, returning all the minerals with metal and water affinities. Kindly, he told him that Autumn Water was a treasured sword with both metal and water affinities, a sword meant to be worn and wielded in hand.

He remembered how happy the elder had been. Smiling, the elder told him that although Sword-Casting Mountain excelled in flying swords and spell swords, it was not incapable of teaching bodily swordsmanship. He should treat the sword well and study swordsmanship diligently. If the day truly came when they could teach him no further, what harm would there be in inviting someone from the Stone Forest to teach him? Behind closed doors, they were all one family, weren't they?

He was delighted to obtain Autumn Water and believed himself a hero who had recognized a treasured blade. He practiced sword moves tirelessly by day and slept embracing his sword by night. Thereafter, he became even more frugal, exchanging every bit of money he saved for metal-essence minerals with metal and water affinities, which he refined into Autumn Water.

Later, however, the truth taught him that while the treasured sword was indeed a treasured sword, the hero was no hero at all. In the end, he had failed Autumn Water, failed his teachers, and failed the elder who had personally placed Autumn Water into his hands.

Those recollections passed in an instant. He had savored the day he met Autumn Water countless times already.

His expression was calm as a light breeze beneath pale clouds. "Yunqi, I wish to give Autumn Water to you. Would you accept it?"

Yunqi was astonished. He wanted to give away such a treasured sword?

"I never amounted to anything. It was wrong of me to take Autumn Water when I left the sect. I should have returned it to the sword vault, but I truly couldn't bear to part with it! Yet once I selfishly brought Autumn Water away, I no longer dared face it. All I could do was leave it in its case, hung high upon the wall. But treasured swords possess awareness. Every autumn, as metal qi gradually flourished, it would ring night after night. I feared it would leave, yet deep down I hoped it would transform into a hornless dragon and depart. All those tangled feelings are truly difficult to explain to another."

Hidden inside his sleeves, the old temple master's hands clenched and trembled slightly.

Yunqi sighed inwardly, his heart heavy. Was this where the name "Guilty Heart Residence" came from?

"Yunqi, accept Autumn Water. How can you travel abroad without a treasured weapon to protect yourself? If you truly don't like it, then when you return to the sect, I'm sorry for the trouble, but please take Autumn Water back and return it to Sword-Casting Mountain!"

The temple master looked at Yunqi, his eyes full of hope.

Whether judged by sentiment or reason, Yunqi naturally had no grounds to refuse. He also adored Autumn Water. Why make a fuss about receiving such a treasured sword for nothing?

Yunqi sheathed the sword, cradled it in his arms, and bowed. "Thank you for bestowing this sword upon me, Temple Master."

The old temple master threw back his head and laughed, as though a great burden had been lifted. "Good lad, good lad! Come, sit down. I have a few more things for you!"

He pressed Yunqi into his seat and hurried into the inner room, his steps even lighter than before. As he left, he did not forget to take the sword case with him.

Yet barely had the old temple master left the main room when Yunqi heard something fall. Had he already thrown the sword case away?

Yunqi smiled and lowered his head to examine Autumn Water again. What a beautiful sword! He had failed to acquire a sword while in the sect, yet scarcely had he left when someone gave him one, and with such earnest insistence. It truly felt like a dream. Could this really be the work of time and fate?

As for flying swords and spell swords, Yunqi no longer thought about them. With such a sword in his arms, why think of anything else? That could wait!

Returning to find Yunqi unable to put the sword down, the old temple master felt deeply comforted. He carried a small chest over and sat beside Yunqi, once again setting it on the table between them.

The temple master opened the chest. Yunqi saw a dozen or so fragments, some metallic and some stony. The largest were the size of chicken eggs, the smallest the size of red beans. Some looked no different from stones scattered along a road, while others shone with a soft radiance.

"These are some metal-essence ores I collected in the mortal world over the past several decades. There used to be more, but I traded the others with various practitioners for ones with metal and water affinities. Now they're all yours. Their quality can't compare with what you'd find in the mountains, so please don't turn your nose up at them."

Daoist Zhenwei smiled as he nudged the chest toward Yunqi.

Unable to refuse, Yunqi rose again and bowed his thanks.

The old temple master smilingly bade him sit, then asked, "Have you ever fed a sword before?"

Yunqi shook his head. He had not even owned a sword; how could he have fed one?

The old temple master was still beaming. Ever since Yunqi accepted Autumn Water, his smile had never faded. He explained:

"A flying sword's sharpness lies in honing; a spell sword's might lies in sustaining; a hand-wielded sword's resilience lies in feeding. Think about it, Yunqi. We just said that the key to practicing the Body Sword Art is building momentum, but that momentum ultimately rests upon the sword. If the sword in your hand is poor, a single evasive movement or change of move could leave it unable to withstand the momentum or bear the force. It would snap on the spot. That is why a sword used for bodily swordsmanship must be resilient. Against others, that resilience must shatter anything in its path. But the treasured sword itself must bear the momentum it builds, and for that, too, it needs resilience."

The old temple master's explanation was clear, and Yunqi nodded repeatedly.

"To make a hand-wielded sword resilient, you must constantly feed it metal-essence minerals. That is what truly burns through money. So when you said earlier that flying swords and spell swords burn money, you weren't quite right."

Yunqi felt a little embarrassed at his words. "I'm an outsider. I really shouldn't have spoken so rashly."

Naturally, the old temple master did not mind. He asked again, "Do you know fire arts? Can you summon magical fire?"

Yunqi nodded. At present, fire arts were precisely what he practiced most, in order to open his Heart Mansion as soon as possible.

"Feeding a hand-wielded sword isn't actually difficult, so long as you have suitable metal-essence minerals. Here, take this and give it a try now."

The old temple master picked a blue-green grain of Gold Essence from the chest and placed it in Yunqi's hand.

"This is called flowing gold sinking sand. It belongs to Xin Metal. Autumn Water has both metal and water affinities, and of yin and yang, it falls on the yin side, so it favors Xin Metal and Gui Water. Summon fire and refine it. Once the metal becomes liquid, drip it onto the blade, and Autumn Water will consume it naturally. Keep at it over time, like water patiently grinding stone. After Autumn Water has consumed a hundred metals, it will become increasingly tough and resilient. Moreover, some metal-essence minerals in this world possess wondrous properties of their own. After consuming them, Autumn Water can also acquire a little of those qualities, so keep an eye out when you seek food for it in the future."

Yunqi nodded and circulated the fire-aspected magical power within him. A flame readily formed in his palm. He dropped the flowing gold sinking sand into it and slowly began refining it.

Watching the flame in Yunqi's palm, the temple master sighed. "When I first left the mountain, I still had magical power within me. But the mortal world is full of distractions, and my body aged. My ability to absorb qi worsened by the day, until my magical power gradually dried up and I became no different from an ordinary mortal. Eventually, I could no longer even feed Autumn Water."

Yunqi nodded in agreement. After only a few days away from the mountain, he had already sensed how thin the spiritual qi was in the mortal world. No wonder all the great sects occupied spiritual mountains, and so few cultivated in the mortal world.

"This seems a little slow. Flowing gold sinking sand is hard, cold in nature, and resistant to fire. Let's try another."

After quite some time, seeing how slowly the flowing gold sinking sand was melting, the temple master suggested switching to a different piece of Gold Essence.

"No need."

Yunqi shook his head. Then he laid the sword across his knees, held the flame beneath the metal in his right hand, and formed a seal with his left. Pointing at the Gold Essence within the flame, he softly uttered one word:

"Burn!"

Instantly, the flowing gold sinking sand began to melt.

The old temple master looked at Yunqi, even more pleased at heart.

A short while later, the flowing gold sinking sand became a globule of molten metal. Yunqi withdrew the flame and drew the sword to catch it. Sure enough, like rain falling into a pool, the molten metal dripped into Autumn Water, leaving a blue-green mark upon its blade. Autumn Water rang out.

"Autumn Water is happy."

The old temple master smiled as he spoke.

Now that everything was settled, the old temple master detained Yunqi no longer. He gave him all the remaining metal-essence minerals and let him make his own way home.

Before they parted, the old temple master reminded him not to rush when feeding a sword. He must wait until Autumn Water had fully absorbed the Gold Essence it had consumed before feeding it again. Otherwise, greed would bring loss: impurities would accumulate in the treasured sword, making it brittle and prone to breaking instead. As for how to tell whether the sword had refined the Gold Essence, that was simple too. He only needed to wait until no stray color remained upon the blade. The old Daoist added with a smile, however, that few sword owners in this world likely had that problem. Generally, the speed at which they found Gold Essence fell far short of the speed at which their swords consumed it. The dozen little pieces he had saved would hardly keep Autumn Water's mouth occupied.

Yunqi took the lesson to heart, bowed deeply, and offered his sincere thanks.

The old temple master waved and watched Yunqi leave.

Yet after Yunqi had departed, the smiling old temple master suddenly felt a cool trace upon his face. He raised a hand to touch it. Tears. He was crying!

Why was he crying? He was clearly so happy. He had not been this happy in years!

Was this what people called weeping for joy?

Unable to make sense of it for the moment, the old temple master returned to his bedroom. Out of habit, he again skirted the wall where the sword case had always hung. Just as he sat on the edge of his bed, he seemed to remember something and laughingly scolded himself.

"You muddleheaded old fool. Autumn Water has gone with a new master, a young man whose talent exceeds yours by who knows how much. What are you still hiding from? There's no need to hide anymore. Tomorrow, you ought to change the name of Guilty Heart Residence as well!"

The old temple master felt he should be at peace now. He raised his head and looked straight at that wall.

The wall was empty. There was nothing there.

For some reason, grief suddenly welled up from his heart, and an unbearable ache filled his nose. The old temple master collapsed face down upon the bed and sobbed aloud.

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