The original venue had been dismantled by my hand, so the afternoon’s competition was moved to a different location. A maidservant arrived early to escort us. Having caused such a massive disaster for the first time, I was quite anxious, secretly asking Ye Tan how much money it would take for the host to forgive me. Ye Tan’s expression wasn't particularly relaxed, which made me feel like things were about to go south.
Yang Qingzhou soon came to greet us. Not a trace of anger showed on his face; instead, he repeatedly blamed himself for failing in his duties as a host and allowing a dispute to break out among the guests, begging for my forgiveness.
When I tried my best to follow the rules, people went out of their way to pick a fight with me; yet when I tore down their building, they turned around and apologized to me. I truly could not understand these people.
I whispered my confusion to Ye Tan, but he only nodded.
"Are you angry?" I observed him cautiously.
"How could that be?" Ye Tan asked.
"I was the one who caused trouble first," I said, looking down at my hands in reflection. "I can't control my strength. Should I perhaps cripple a bit more of my internal energy...?"
Ye Tan abruptly interrupted, "You must not say such things."
I obediently shut my mouth.
Seeing me fall silent, his expression softened considerably. He added, "Has Master never learned how to circulate his breath?"
I nodded. "Are you willing to teach me?"
"Whatever Master commands, there is no question of willingness," Ye Tan said, his eyes fixed on the ground.
This man was definitely angry. But even when he was angry, he was so lukewarm about it that he probably hadn't even realized it himself.
*Sigh, how cute.*
Thinking this, I reached out and ruffled his hair. Ye Tan looked at me with utter bewilderment.
The same crowd from the morning had changed into fresh clothes and taken their seats. Everyone was stealing glances in my direction—a mix of half-awe and half-hostility—but no one came forward to cause trouble again.
Perhaps it wasn't a bad thing after all.
The matches were mostly for show; regardless of who won or lost, the techniques were performed beautifully. However, for some reason, everyone seemed a bit distracted.
That was until a new figure leaped onto the stage, cupped his hands, and announced loudly, "Yi Qiao of Wu Yi Hill boldly requests a lesson from Young Master Jun of the Mo Ling Sword Pavilion."
Wasn't this the guy from the "Hibiscus Soup" incident at noon?
The spectators, who had been drowsy just a moment ago, instantly snapped to attention. Their eyes lit up like torches as they all stared at me.
...Why are you all looking at me with such high expectations?
Yang Qingzhou knew there was friction between us and looked quite troubled. He hurried to smooth things over. "Young Hero Yi, the Sword Appreciation Assembly is for admiring the elegance of various weapons. Young Master Jun hasn't brought a weapon, so perhaps you should challenge someone else."
"Admiring famous swords? Hahahaha!" Hearing this, Yi Qiao couldn't help but laugh. "Don't they have a sword? Why not bring it up and let everyone broaden their horizons?"
As soon as he spoke, a burst of raucous laughter erupted from the crowd. The guests at the tables near us craned their necks to get a clear look at the little scruffy sword at Ye Tan's waist, whispering and laughing amongst themselves.
*Heh, a bunch of mortals, laughing at the Creator God himself.*
"Ah-Tan," I said. "Go up and play a round with him."
Naturally, it was impossible for Ye Tan to defeat him. With his current cultivation, he was likely at the bottom of the rankings among those present. That sword was the laughingstock of the entire venue; going up would result in nothing but being heavily injured and humiliated, reduced to a clown for everyone's amusement. Just as I was thinking of how to persuade him, Ye Tan had already silently accepted the command and stood up.
I tugged at his sleeve and whispered, "Just be careful to avoid breaking the sword."
Ye Tan acknowledged me, still not looking back.
Seeing him march toward his "martyrdom" so resolutely, I couldn't help but feel a bit of heartache.
The arena was about waist-high. To show off their lightness skills, the other participants would leap and flip onto the stage. Only Ye Tan honestly walked halfway around the perimeter, becoming the first person to use the stairs to walk up. As he circled the stage, everyone could see that his steps were floating and his cultivation was shallow. His sword was an even bigger joke.
Standing on the stage, Yi Qiao’s expression was a mix of rage and mockery, itching to stomp him under his feet. Yang Qingzhou hurriedly advised from the side, "Everyone here is a hero of the martial world. I hope you will stop once the point is made and not harm the harmony between us."
Ye Tan stood still, performed a salute, and steadily drew his blade, holding it across his chest. "Ye Tan of the Sword Pavilion. Please."
The little scruffy sword was still the same little scruffy sword—made of inferior iron full of impurities, already covered in rust after only two days. The wooden hilt was filthy, without even a layer of lacquer, wrapped crookedly in frayed, tattered cloth. The blade had even been abruptly broken once and fused back together haphazardly; the forging technique was so ugly it was painful to look at.
The distinguished guests, accustomed to seeing divine weapons and legendary blades, had never imagined such a pathetic sword could exist in the world. Their expressions were a colorful spectacle.
"You people claim to be from a 'Sword Pavilion,' yet you use such a piece of junk? Does your sect only have this one sword? If it breaks, how am I supposed to explain myself?" Yi Qiao mocked.
"If it breaks, I'll fix it again," Ye Tan said flatly.
"...Hahaha, fine." Yi Qiao laughed out of pure rage. "A fine 'fix it again.' Let's see who fixes *you* when you break in a moment."
Yi Qiao didn't want to waste words on a weakling. He intended to end it in one move, lunging forward with a downward slash. Ye Tan knew the disparity in their strength was vast, and his movement was nowhere near as fast. The strike was unavoidable, so he could only assume a basic defensive posture, holding his sword horizontally across his chest, planning to retreat to dissipate the force.
But when Yi Qiao’s blade made solid contact, the sensation in his hand was slight. Ye Tan’s expression flickered, assuming he had failed to block it, only to see Yi Qiao’s momentum continue downward. Thanks to his startlingly sharp instincts, Ye Tan tilted his head just in time as a sharp piece of metal whistled past his cheek—it was the severed half of Yi Qiao’s blade.
Yi Qiao remained in his landing posture, stunned for a long time.
Everyone present was also dumbfounded.
"Ah-Tan, you can come back now." In the dead silence, my voice sounded somewhat abrupt as I waved to him.
Ye Tan’s shock was no less than anyone else's. He blankly sheathed his sword and turned around.
"Impossible!! You cheated!!" Yi Qiao roared. He leaped down, snatched a short saber from an attendant, and flipped back onto the stage. He slashed down again. Ye Tan instinctively drew his sword to block; it still felt as light as nothing, and the saber snapped upon contact with the edge.
Yi Qiao was furious and moved to strike with his palms, but a shadow flickered as Yang Qingzhou intercepted him by the waist and hauled him away. Yi Qiao continued to shout curses, but after being obstructed and persuaded by Yang Qingzhou for a long time, he kicked a table in frustration and stormed off.
Ye Tan slowly headed for the stairs to return. Before he had gone a few steps, someone else called out, "He of the He Lan Terrace requests a battle with the Great Hero Ye Tan of the Sword Pavilion!" and leaped onto the stage.
Ye Tan neither agreed nor refused; he looked at me from a distance as if waiting for instructions.
I realized he wouldn't be able to leave anytime soon, so I waved my hand again. "If you're willing, play with them for a bit. If you're unhappy, just come back."
Ye Tan nodded and turned back to face the challenge.
Calling it a "challenge" was an overstatement; there wasn't much for him to do. Every weapon that touched his blade snapped instantly. He barely had to exert any effort to parry.
The people around him refused to believe it, going up one by one to try their luck. Soon, a large pile of broken metal accumulated at his feet.
I was having the time of my life watching this.
A perfectly good competition had turned into a chaotic mess. Yang Qingzhou crouched below the stage with a miserable face, looking so pitiful that I couldn't help but laugh.
"One hundred weapons!" someone suddenly shouted the count.
Those who had been skeptical finally lost their nerve. They stared at Ye Tan in a daze, shaken to the core. He finally seemed to feel he had played enough, performed a salute, and prepared to leave the stage.
"Great Hero, please wait." Yang Qingzhou suddenly spoke to stop him. He cupped his hands respectfully and asked, "This junior boldly asks the Sword Pavilion: May I know the name of this sword?"
The surrounding crowd suddenly broke into an uproar, whispering excitedly. If the host asked for the sword's name, it meant it would be recorded in the annals of the Sword Appreciation Assembly, its fame passed down through the ages.
Ye Tan didn't answer him. He looked at me from afar.
He was likely waiting for me to name it.
Of course this sword had a name.
This sword was called the Little Scruffy Sword.
*Damn it, how am I supposed to say that out loud?*
Under the expectant gaze of the multitude, I braced myself and stood up.
Without blushing or a racing heart, I declared:
"This sword is called the Holy Physics Great Treasure Sword of Promised Victory."
Yang Qingzhou: "..."
I let out a long sigh and continued, "This sword carries the longing for victory from all the souls lost in every war since ancient times. Thus, it is invincible. Only one who has touched King Arthur's ahoge is worthy of wielding it."
Everyone present was filled with solemn respect.
Yang Qingzhou took a deep breath and said, "Could... could you say that one more time? It was too long, I didn't catch it."
Me: "The Holy Physics Great Treasure Sword of Promised Victory."
Yang Qingzhou: "The Holy... what-ics? The something-something Victory Great Treasure Sword..."
Me: "The Holy Physics Great Treasure Sword of Promised Victory."
Yang Qingzhou: "The Holy Physics Victory Constraint Great Treasure Sword."
Me: "It's 'Promised Victory,' not 'Victory Constraint.'"
Yang Qingzhou: "The Promised Victory Physics... Holy... Great Sword."
Me: "Dammit, that's enough."
***
Glossary:
