Where was the sword?

The commotion at Streamside soon alerted the masters of the various peaks along the cliffs, and word also reached the stone platform high above.

A junior sister from the Water-Moon Convent, who had just returned from Qingrong Peak, looked into the distance curiously and said, "Who is that? He's so good-looking."

A young disciple of the Wind Saber Sect frowned and said, "Judging by the commotion, he must be extremely well known in the Green Mountain Sect."

Gu Han looked toward Streamside, his expression rather unpleasant.

Guo Nanshan patted his shoulder and smiled without speaking.

As though he had not seen this, Ma Hua laughed and cursed, "That fellow doesn't even have a sword. What the hell is he going to inherit?"

Indeed, how could anyone inherit a sword without a sword?

Jing Jiu's hands were empty, his sleeves filled with nothing but the breeze. Where was his sword?

Half a year ago, Jing Jiu had easily entered the clouds on his first ascent of Sword Peak. Everyone had thought he would soon succeed in obtaining a sword, but afterward, no one had ever seen him climb Sword Peak again.

Naturally, then, he could not have obtained the Immortal Sword Uncle-Master Mo had left behind.

Many of the masters, including Uncle-Master Mei Li, were angry at his failure to strive, but had no choice but to accept this fact. Jing Jiu was not, after all, a genius like Liu S sui. Perhaps he would need to wait until the next Sword Inheritance Assembly three years later before he truly understood and revealed his own brilliance.

Who could have expected Jing Jiu to step forward now?

Had he already succeeded in obtaining a sword?

Then when had he gone to get it?

Where was the sword?

Right, where was the sword?

Hearing the discussions all around him, Jing Jiu finally remembered what he had forgotten.

No wonder he had kept feeling he had forgotten something over the past six months.

Yes, he had forgotten that sword.

That night half a year ago, he and Zhao Layue had joined forces amid the turbulent clouds of Sword Peak to kill that Wuzhang expert from Jade Lake Peak, and he had taken the sword while he was at it.

Where had he put that sword?

Jing Jiu began to recall carefully.

At the time, he had carried the corpse in his left hand and held the sword in his right. Having to carry the head as well had felt rather inconvenient, so he had stuck the head on the sword.

Naturally, the sword had been stained with blood, which looked quite conspicuous under the lamplight once he returned to his cave abode.

He had thought washing the sword was too much trouble, so he had tossed it to the monkeys along the cliffs to clean.

Then... he had forgotten about it, and forgotten to ask the monkeys for the sword back.

Yes, that was what had happened.

The sword should still be with those monkeys.

Thinking through all this had not taken him very long, but it had still taken some time.

The elder from Shiyue Peak looked rather displeased and asked coldly, "Where is your sword?"

He looked at Jing Jiu's empty hands and thought, Unless you've fully formed your Sword Pellet and entered the Wuzhang Realm, I'd like to see how you conjure a sword out of thin air.

"One moment," Jing Jiu said.

Then he looked toward the cliffs downstream and asked, "Where's the sword?"

The cliffs were covered in exceedingly dense, untamed woods. At his voice, leaves rustled wildly and monkey cries rang out without pause.

The green woods stirred, faint clouds of dust rising as an unknown number of monkeys shrieked and ran into the distance, their cries gradually fading.

Before long, the monkey cries drew closer. They must have run back again.

The woods swayed, a little dust rose, and a dozen or so monkeys climbed to the treetops.

One monkey stood at the highest point in the woods, waving its long arms incessantly and crying urgently.

That monkey held a sword.

Everyone beside the stream and along the cliffs was a cultivator, their eyesight countless times sharper than that of ordinary mortals. They had long since seen everything on the cliff clearly.

At this sight, many people's expressions turned unpleasant. Gu Han's face was so dark it seemed water might drip from it.

To the people of the Green Mountain Sect, flying swords were their most reliable companions, their most steadfast comrades-in-arms.

They cherished their flying swords beyond measure, sleeping beside them every night, wiping them every day, and nurturing them at all times.

Who could have imagined that after successfully obtaining a sword, Jing Jiu would toss it to those monkeys to play with?

How disrespectful this was to the departed Uncle-Master Mo, to Shiyue Peak, and to the very word "sword"!

The monkey threw the sword over.

However intelligent it might be, it was still only a monkey, and failed to control the direction.

The sword tumbled through the air, about to fall into the stream.

At this sight, some faces grew even more unpleasant. The elder from Shiyue Peak snorted coldly and prepared to ride his sword up to catch it, but soon stopped.

Because Jing Jiu had already raised his hand.

The sword abruptly froze in midair, no longer tumbling.

With a whoosh, the sword cut down through the air, turning into a streak of clear light that vanished beside the stream.

Countless gazes fell upon Jing Jiu's right hand.

He held a sword.

The sword had a slightly dim luster and was somewhat broad and straight. It was indeed the Immortal Sword that Master Mo of Shiyue Peak had returned to Green Mountain the previous year.

Everyone was shocked.

A moment earlier, the sword had still been dozens of zhang above the stream.

Jing Jiu had reached out, and the sword had fallen into his hand.

This was recalling a sword, not sending one out, but being able to summon it back from such a distance proved he had already perfected the first realm of sword keeping!

Naturally, he was qualified to take part in the Sword Inheritance Assembly.

Xue Yongge said excitedly to those beside him, "I knew I was right! He must have been hiding in his cave every night, cultivating tirelessly! He really... really... knows how to put on an act!"

People were astonished, but once they recovered, much dissatisfaction arose.

Some were dissatisfied because they felt they might miss out on something, such as Uncle-Master Mei Li of Qingrong Peak.

Jing Jiu had already succeeded in obtaining a sword. Why had she not heard about it?

She looked toward Lin Wuzhi, who stood in the distance smiling without speaking, and knew he had already guessed. Her expression could not help turning unpleasant as she realized he had beaten her to it.

Others were dissatisfied because of Jing Jiu's attitude.

"Treating an elder's bequeathed sword so casually is rather disrespectful."

For once, Ma Hua's plump face bore no smile. He looked very solemn.

Jing Jiu glanced at him.

Ordinarily, he would not have bothered with this fat man at all, but today was the Sword Inheritance Assembly, with outside guests watching the ceremony. He felt he ought to show more grace.

"This is my sword."

Beyond that, he offered no further explanation.

This was the sword he had taken from Sword Peak, so it was his sword.

Everything in the past was severed with a single stroke.

There was no such thing as an elder's bequeathed sword.

He could do whatever he wanted.

Hearing this answer, Gu Han and Ma Hua recalled the exchange that had taken place at this very spot.

Back then, Gu Han had mockingly asked whether Jing Jiu was qualified to use Uncle-Master Mo's sword. Jing Jiu's answer had been just as simple, a single word-yes.

He was very good at ending tedious conversations with a single word or sentence.

Because when he spoke that word or sentence, he never hesitated, never deliberated. There was a sense that it was only natural, as unquestionable as the laws of heaven and earth.

"He really does make people unhappy."

Ma Hua sighed.

Gu Han's expression grew colder and colder.

"Since he has a sword, he can draw it now, can't he?"

Guo Nanshan spoke.

His expression remained as gentle as ever, a smile on his face.

Yet Ma Hua felt a slight chill at the sight. Understanding his meaning, he gave a few quiet instructions to someone beside him.

Gu Han suddenly said, "Send Gu Qing."

Ma Hua was somewhat surprised. Isn't that taking that fellow far too seriously?

Jing Jiu's earlier method of retrieving his sword had indeed been beautiful, but he was still only a Sword Washing disciple. Was there any need to take him so seriously?

After a moment of silence, Guo Nanshan said, "That will do as well."

Since Jing Jiu was prouder than expected, he ought to suffer a greater setback. Only then could he mature as quickly as possible.

He thought that was what he was thinking.

A gentle breeze came, faintly ruffling the stream.

A young disciple walked into the stream from the opposite bank.

The breeze stirred his sword robe, making it flutter as though he might take flight, like an immortal.

"Oh, this newcomer is quite good-looking."

The young girl from the Hanging Bell Sect said, "Though he still isn't as handsome as the one opposite him."

Naturally, the one opposite him she meant was Jing Jiu.

Jing Jiu looked at the youth, somewhat surprised.

The disciples beside the stream were also discussing him, for many had never seen this youth before.

Only after some who knew the inside story explained did they learn that he was the legendary Gu Qing.

The disciples of the various peaks had long known Gu Qing's identity, and a faint stir arose along the cliffs.