Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Lin Dao’s True Identity?

Rong Shu blinked in mild surprise and asked: ‘Sword qi?’

Lin Dao nodded: ‘Yes. It is a power a swordsman gains once swordsmanship reaches a certain realm. Sword qi is not difficult to cultivate. Even someone with mediocre talent for the sword, if they train day after day for decades, can eventually unleash sword qi of their own.’

Hearing that it could take decades just to produce sword qi, Rong Shu went a little blank as she thought: [Decades. How is that not difficult?]

Seeing Rong Shu stunned, Lin Dao smiled faintly and said: ‘For cultivators, decades pass in the snap of a finger; it is no different from a few hours to a mortal. Different sword cultivators wield different kinds of sword qi: some are gentle and lingering like fine rain, and some are scorching and violent like magma.’

He continued in an even tone: ‘Above sword qi lies sword intent. Once one reaches the level of sword intent, a sword cultivator’s art has truly entered the hall of mastery.’

He added with quiet certainty: ‘Sword intent is infinitely profound. Some sword cultivators will fail to comprehend it for their entire lives, while others may grasp it with nothing more than a faint smile. That depends on talent, and even more on opportunity.’

After listening, Rong Shu suddenly remembered that Lin Dao had said she had no talent for the sword. She deflated and said: ‘Senior Brother, didn’t you say I have no gift for the sword? I might not be able to cultivate sword qi at all.’

Lin Dao chided her, his tone neither light nor heavy: ‘Foolish. I used the sword as an example. The same principle applies to training with any weapon.’

Rong Shu scratched her head, a little embarrassed, and said: ‘Oh, right.’

Lin Dao offered a gentle reassurance: ‘You are still young. There is no rush. First, train the most basic swordwork. Later, when you settle on which weapon to specialize in, focus your cultivation there.’

He certainly knew many sword arts that were far too powerful, but since Rong Shu truly lacked aptitude on the sword path, he had no intention of teaching them to her. For now, ordinary sword techniques were fine; if she learned more profound methods without a certain measure of talent, it would only waste time and energy. On the contrary, learning too much without excelling would affect her future comprehension of other weapons.

Lin Dao returned the Spirit Sword to Rong Shu and said: ‘Practice at your own pace. I have matters to attend to, so I will take my leave.’

Rong Shu accepted the Spirit Sword and said: ‘Thank you, Senior Brother,’ while her mind kept replaying every move he had just made with the blade.

She then remembered something and said: ‘By the way, Senior Brother, a thief has been appearing in the city of late, coming and going without a trace. Please be careful.’

Lin Dao turned his head to glance at her, only to see Rong Shu’s expression calm, as if she had merely offered an ordinary word of concern.

He inclined his head and said: ‘I know,’ then turned and left.

Only after Lin Dao left did a flicker of curiosity surface in Rong Shu’s eyes as she thought: [A thief? Could it be Senior Brother Lin Dao? If it really is Senior Brother Lin Dao, why would he go to the City Lord’s manor? But what does that have to do with me? Even if I guessed the thief was Lin Dao, and even if the City Lord’s manor has already issued a bounty of one hundred thousand Spirit Stones, that has nothing to do with me. After all, I am just an ordinary little cultivator who knows nothing.]

Having made up her mind, Rong Shu stopped dwelling on it, concentrated on leafing through the sword manual Lin Dao had given her, and began to practice.

Night fell.

In the City Lord’s manor, Yan Cheng Qian had spent the entire day listening to his subordinates’ useless reports. Not only had they failed to catch the thief, they could not even trace his movements. His irritation only deepened. Even as he walked the path back to the courtyard where he rested, he was still thinking about the “thief” who had appeared these past few days.

He wondered in mounting frustration: [What is that thief’s purpose? Why does he keep breaking into the City Lord’s manor?] It was not for money or murder. He deliberately left a faint trace, yet withdrew unscathed every time. With the other party’s intent unclear, being toyed with like a cat plays with a mouse made Yan Cheng Qian feel both stifled and powerless.

Reaching the door of his residence, he was just about to enter when his footsteps halted. Usually he could hear the manor servants moving about inside, but now the silence was unnaturally deep. In the next instant, sensing a strange aura nearby, he turned his head at once.

From the shadows, a figure slowly stepped forth and appeared before Yan Cheng Qian.

Almost instinctively, Yan Cheng Qian was certain: this was the thief who had repeatedly entered the City Lord’s manor in recent days.

He looked at Lin Dao with wary eyes and demanded: ‘Who are you? Why trespass in my manor?’

Lin Dao did not answer. Instead, he fluently recited information about Yan Cheng Qian: ‘Yan Cheng Qian, who came from the Central Province to the Southern Wilds three hundred years ago and assumed the position of City Lord of Scarlet Sun City. Eighty years ago, you formed a marriage alliance with the local Liu Clan of Scarlet Sun City. Fifty-five years later, you had a son named Yan Zi Mo.’

Yan Cheng Qian’s expression shifted. Anyone in the Southern Wilds could learn the latter facts with casual inquiries, but the first point—that he had come from the Central Province three hundred years ago—was something only the upper echelons of major sects in the Southern Wilds would know.

He frowned and asked again, even as he tried to deduce Lin Dao’s identity: ‘Who exactly are you? Why have you come here?’ He thought to himself with a jolt of suspicion: [Could he be some great sect’s genius disciple?]

As for the early Foundation Establishment cultivation Lin Dao displayed, Yan Cheng Qian did not believe it. Someone who could approach him without alerting any of the manor guards would hardly be a mere early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Seeing that Yan Cheng Qian still could not guess his origin, Lin Dao stopped circling the point and said coldly: ‘It seems your days in Scarlet Sun City have been too comfortable. You have forgotten how you came here and what responsibility you bear.’

His voice cut like a blade as he asked: ‘I am curious. What benefits did the Southern Wilds’ demonic path give you that you would disregard the lives of the people of nine entire towns?’

Nine towns in all, with tens of thousands of mortal souls. Not only had they died at the hands of devils, they had been sold out completely by the very “guardian deity” who was supposed to protect them.

A thought flashed through Yan Cheng Qian’s mind, shocking even himself. He stared at Lin Dao with uncertain eyes and asked: ‘Are you an inspector sent by the Central Province?’

Central Province. How could someone come from there?

For many long years, Yan Cheng Qian had nearly severed contact with that side. Apart from filing a routine report every fifty years, he had taken root in Scarlet Sun City of the Southern Wilds. As a Divine Transformation cultivator—counted among the top experts in the Southern Wilds—backed by the Central Province and in charge of Scarlet Sun City, he had nearly become a local emperor.

He spread his divine sense, probing the entire City Lord’s manor and even most of Scarlet Sun City. Yet aside from a few Nascent Souls concealing their cultivation, no aura of Divine Transformation or higher appeared.

He narrowed his eyes and asked: ‘Just you alone?’

Lin Dao replied with calm certainty: ‘I alone am enough.’

At that, Yan Cheng Qian’s gaze flickered once.