Vol. 2 - Chapter 72 - First-Rank Swordswoman

South of Yuhang County.

Hua Xiyue slipped a few copper coins into the hands of the gate soldiers, glancing up at the weathered blue-gray city walls.

“Yuhang County…”

“For some reason, I’m a little excited.”

Dressed in men’s clothing, a radiant smile curved her refined, delicate face.

That day, she had learned from Miao Fengyun that her destined beloved was in Yuhang.

Without delay, she rushed here, curiosity burning—

Who could it be… someone who could catch her eye?

She’d meant to ask Fengyun for more details, but…

He’d vomited several mouthfuls of blood before collapsing unconscious.

When he woke, he remained silent, eyes vacant, half his hair turned white overnight.

Hua Xiyue understood the rules of the Divine Mechanism Sect well.

Fengyun must have touched upon forbidden heavenly secrets, sacrificing several years of his life.

A pang of guilt stirred in her chest.

Although fortune-telling was always voluntary, with all consequences borne by the diviner…

She’d still left him a few life-saving pills, crafted by her grandfather himself, as compensation.

With that done, she set off for Yuhang, excitement growing with every step.

Disciples of the Divine Mechanism Sect were rare; anyone who walked the mortal world to divine fate possessed formidable skill.

For Fengyun to spew blood and shorten his own lifespan—

He must have truly glimpsed something profound…

An insight too heavy to bear, causing backlash.

Which only proved the accuracy of his reading.

“I wonder…” she murmured, a playful gleam in her eyes. “Is he handsome?”

As she wandered the stone-paved streets of Yuhang, anticipation bloomed silently within.

Suddenly—

A shadow flashed dozens of meters away.

The figure moved with strange, serpentine footwork, lightning-fast, clutching a toddler no more than two years old while bolting toward the gates.

Hua Xiyue halted, her crescent-moon eyes narrowing slightly.

“Stepping Grass Snake Steps?”

“That’s the signature movement of the Divine Healers’ Valley…”

Her gaze swept over the fleeing figure, catching a glint of sickly green in his pupils.

Recognition dawned.

“Poison King Xue Ming?” she whispered.

“Miao Yi Shengshou’s junior brother… what’s he doing here?”

Her face puzzled, Hua Xiyue recalled the legends.

Xue Ming lived reclusively, obsessed with poisoncraft.

He had even compiled a book, The Poison Sutra, said to contain every venom under heaven—methods of concoction and delivery unmatched.

Rumor claimed his mastery could rival grandmasters themselves.

His poisons were so potent even the Miracle Hand Healer could not counter them.

It was said Xue Ming could easily poison a first-rank master to death.

Yet, no one had ever seen him strike; he’d always remained in the shadows.

“How strange…” Hua Xiyue muttered, eyes flicking to the child he carried. “Why is he abducting a little girl?”

A spark of excitement danced in her gaze.

This… could be fun.

She adored interesting encounters.

Smiling brightly, she moved with graceful, effortless steps, trailing Xue Ming at a safe distance.

At the city gates, Xue Ming’s feet tapped lightly, and in a blink, he vanished beyond the walls.

Too swift for the guards to react.

Moments later, a faint floral scent wafted past as Hua Xiyue herself slipped through, following.

One young soldier, face flushed with anger, lifted his horn to sound the alarm—

But a grizzled veteran caught his arm.

“Put that away,” the older man chided. “Those are martial elites. Next time you see folks like that… just pretend you didn’t.”

The youth’s lips pressed tight, simmering with frustration.

“These roaming jianghu types,” he spat, “darting about like they own the place, flouting imperial law! If this keeps up, there’ll be chaos!”

The veteran chuckled softly but said nothing.

The boy was still too green.

The Dawu Dynasty was forged by martial might and revered warriors.

Sect clans thrived, fighters roamed freely.

If chaos were to erupt, it would have done so long ago.

Did he think the Six Gates Constables were powerless?

Shaking his head with a knowing smile, the veteran waved him back to collecting tolls.

…

Not far from the Orphanage, inside a quiet courtyard—

Qin Yi stood alone, clad in a flowing black dress, sword in hand.

She stood perfectly still, eyes closed like autumn waters, serene yet deadly.

In her pale, jade-like hand rested a twenty-four-and-a-third-inch longsword.

The blade gleamed icy-green, almost translucent under sunlight.

Three inches longer than ordinary swords…

This was the famed weapon Thirteen Autumn Waters, forged by the master of Divine Sword Manor himself.

Two years ago, Qin Yi had lost her original blade at the Fengyu Tower’s headquarters.

When Yuye Hall was later founded, Divine Sword Manor—out of respect for Chen Ye—presented this sword as a gift.

Chen Ye had no use for blades, so he’d given it to Qin Yi.

The weapon’s thin, keen edge made it frighteningly fast in motion.

Forged from cold iron, when infused with Qin Yi’s icy inner force, its lethality multiplied.

In the courtyard—

She held the sword one-handed, eyes still closed.

Before her stood a wooden practice dummy shaped like a man.

A shadow vaulted over the wall.

A Yuye Hall assassin landed lightly, urgency plain on his face.

“Hall Master!” he called, bowing hastily.

“Something’s happened!”

“Xiaofu was snatched on the street by an old man—his poison skills overwhelmed us!”

Qin Yi’s closed eyes snapped open, a cold light flashing within their tranquil depths.

In the next instant—

She sheathed her sword in one smooth motion.

Expression unreadable, she said softly, “I know.”

Then, with barely a sound, her toes kissed the ground, and her figure floated over the wall, vanishing.

The assassin stood frozen, stunned by a subtle change in her aura.

Something felt… different.

Before he could dwell on it, a sharp crack sounded behind him.

Snap!

The practice dummy in the yard split cleanly in two, collapsing silently.

Its cross-section was polished like a mirror, without the faintest mark of a cut—

As if it had always been two halves.

The assassin approached, staring in disbelief.

Then it hit him like thunder.

“First rank…”

“First rank!”

“Hall Master Qin has broken through to first rank!”

Excitement surged in his chest.

He too was a swordsman, and in the jianghu it was said—

When a first-rank master wielded a blade, the sword transcended mortal limits.

A single stroke could sever without leaving the slightest trace.

And judging by this perfect cut, Qin Yi’s swordsmanship had ascended to that divine realm.