The Sword of Wood and Metal

Su Qing knew how to draw talismans; she learned it in Basic Cultivation (I).

Basic Cultivation, as the name suggests, was an introductory course covering the fundamentals of the cultivation world and the six arts: talismans, alchemy, body refining, artifact crafting, beast taming, and formations.

The course was vast, encompassing a bit of everything but diving deep into nothing. It was a smorgasbord of shallow knowledge, jumping between topics, focusing on breadth over depth.

The first subject tackled was talismans, the easiest to pick up. Su Qing learned several basic ones in class: Cleaning Talisman, Silence Talisman, Fetching Talisman, and the Good Fortune Talisman.

Everyone knew the Good Fortune Talisman was the most useless. It was the lowest-tier talisman, so simple anyone with a spark of spiritual energy and a brush could draw it.

Yet, even great cultivators or those who could read fate wouldn’t dare predict good things with certainty. This talisman claimed to do so, but it clearly couldn’t—offering only psychological comfort.

Su Qing was drawing Good Fortune Talismans.

When people are desperate, they turn to mysticism.

As long as her heart was sincere, good things *had* to happen!

In the morning light, she sat with a straight back, her dark eyes focused on the paper. Her wrist moved steadily, guiding the brush in clear, deliberate strokes.

A flash of white spiritual light—success.

She used the most cost-effective talisman paper, brush, and ink from the second cafeteria, so the result was somewhat plain.

But her skilled, light manipulation of spiritual energy and sincere heart produced a high-grade Good Fortune Talisman.

Not that quality mattered much for this talisman.

Her roommate, up at dawn, sat haggard at the desk, obsessively drawing Good Fortune Talismans—a worrying sight. Even the oblivious Tianning, before heading to sword practice, asked, “Did something big happen?”

Tang Yueling, hair disheveled, poked her head from behind red gauze curtains, grumbling, “What’s got you so rattled you’re praying to ghosts?”

Su Qing smiled calmly, hands clasped. “Nothing big. Just went all in.”

More weird talk.

Tang Yueling’s look screamed exasperation—had Su Qing lost it?

Su Qing thought, it wasn’t a big deal. Just the day her sword was finished, the day to see if her entire savings made a splash or paid off spectacularly.

She wasn’t worried. Not at all. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Initially, she wanted a 500-spirit-stone sword. She budgeted for 600, leaving room. But as she and Jiang Weed discussed, the materials somehow kept getting better.

It wasn’t about using the best, but Jiang Weed casually said, “Your sword is thousand-year plum tree thunderstruck wood. How can ordinary spirit iron match it?”

With that logic, 700 spirit stones seemed fine. 800 wasn’t out of the question. But then he added, “You’re nurturing this sword. Using dead materials makes nurturing harder and costlier.”

She replied calmly, “Makes sense. What materials should we use?”

Jiang Weed said, “It needs at least mid-tier first-grade spirit ore.”

Ore could gain sentience, just like grass could become Jiang Weed, hammering iron after a millennium. But while grass took a thousand years, Sword Mountain’s Moon was born sentient.

That was the gap in potential. Nurturing ordinary spirit iron to sentience was as hard as nurturing grass to sentience—maybe harder. Her resentment might even cling to the sword after death.

It made sense. Perfect sense. Su Qing asked, “How many spirit stones?”

You can’t skimp on a sword.

That one sentence dragged her into the abyss.

She watched herself turn into a sword-obsessed fool, frantically spending. Alchemy coupons, spirit tea sales, offal, sausages, delivery, courier gigs, tea shop wages, work-study earnings—all gone.

She was all in.

All she had left was tomorrow’s meal money.

So irrational. This wasn’t like her. She’d lectured Tianning—where was her face now?

And Jiang Weed! Before, he answered only when asked, like an NPC needing triggers. Now, he was slightly more normal, chatting back and forth, which led to her spending even more.

“Anyway, it’s done. Or not,” Su Qing said, mimicking Jiang Weed’s robotic smile, hiding the rest.

Crafting depended on skill and luck. Even with a 90% chance, no one always beat the probability gods. Su Qing was pragmatic, so she didn’t pressure Jiang Weed. She was learning.

After her speech, Tianning said softly, “Hold out your hands.”

Confused but compliant, Su Qing received a sword. She held it, puzzled.

Transparent ice crystals shimmered around the blade, cold but refracting seven-colored light, like a divine miracle.

“Xuejin Sword says,” Tianning began, hauling out a stack of sword-nurturing balms, “bring these as a dowry, and the sword will come home with you.”

Expressionless but smug, she added, “See? Stocking up paid off.”

Su Qing reverently raised Xuejin Sword. Unsure where the luck was, she’d take its word for now.

*

Jiang Weed used a second-tier black iron furnace for Su Qing’s sword. His skill was sufficient, but by seniority, he was far from renting such a furnace.

But after some events, he’d changed. He asked Xiong Pi, “Senior Brother, want to settle old accounts?”

That one line got him the furnace. He preferred his old, shabby one, but its heat was lacking. He really should save to upgrade. Money’s importance hit hard when spent.

When Su Qing arrived, Jiang Weed sneezed several times.

“You smell nice,” he said, sniffing. “Fortune wood, sour grass, luck vine, water agarwood, suhe essence.”

Su Qing replied, “I bathed and used incense.”

The costly incense was borrowed from Tang Yueling.

“Don’t humans only bathe and burn incense for major festivals?” Jiang Weed asked, curious. Then it clicked. “I get it. Today’s your big day. I’m happy for you.”

Su Qing tensed, clutching her sleeve. “Is it done?”

Jiang Weed smiled. “Hard to say. I’m just the crafter—you decide if it’s a success.”

He lifted the cloth curtain on his workbench, revealing a massive object.

Su Qing froze. One glance, and she knew—this was *her* sword.

She wasn’t agile, her temperament steady, her surface calm, but her heart held a do-or-die fire.

This sword was the same.

A silver greatsword, it could fill a 1.6-meter table lying down, standing half a person’s height. Its blade was thick, needing two hands to measure. The long hilt fit dual grips. The edge was smooth, razor-sharp, and menacing.

Such a heavy weapon, merely standing there, exuded intimidation. Its weight gave it unmatched majesty and power but burdened its wielder.

It demanded absolute strength. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Su Qing knew she had that strength.

“Want to try it?” Jiang Weed loved this moment. “Go on, it’s calling you.”

Su Qing instantly loved the greatsword. It was *hers*—bought with her entire savings, her sweat. The sword tomb didn’t give her a sword, so she forged one to live and die with her. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Excited, she gripped the hilt with her right hand, left hand following, sinking her energy into her dantian, and heaved it up with both hands.

It was heavy—of course, she’d gone all in.

But her trained muscles handled it. Excitement gave her boundless energy.

She swung it a few times, the sword wind stirring air, exuding force and presence. Onlookers stared, scolding, “Test it in an open space! Damage the spirit iron furnace, and you’ll be hammering iron to pay for it!”

Su Qing was thrilled. This was without spiritual energy—she couldn’t wait to train with it at the sword tomb.

“It’s a Pure Yang Sword,” Jiang Weed said, pleased with her delight. “Your wood and metal roots match its wood-metal nature perfectly.”

“Pure Yang Sword?” Su Qing asked. “What’s wood, metal, and pure yang got to do with it?”

He explained, “Plants and minerals thrive on sunlight, drawing energy from it, so their yang energy is purer than other elements. The main ore, Zixi Spirit Ore, excels at absorbing energy, especially the purple qi at sunrise—a true sunward stone. Thunderstruck wood, born of heavenly lightning, is inherently supreme yang. Combined, their yang energy is intense, hence Pure Yang.”

“I see,” Su Qing nodded. “So sunlight boosts this sword?”

“Exactly,” Jiang Weed added. “I etched a spirit-gathering array on it, allowing three power charges.”

This meant Su Qing could unleash three amplified strikes beyond normal attacks, greatly boosting her combat power if used well.

Worth it. So worth it.

Even better: “My skill wasn’t enough, so it’s only peak first-tier now, but it can evolve. Zixi Spirit Ore, once sentient, feeds on other ores, upgrading through absorption.”

In simpler terms, “Your sword can eat other swords.”

Su Qing’s jaw dropped. He added, “Not easy, though. Its sentience is low—needs careful nurturing.”

Her fevered mind cooled. Sensible, she asked, “How could I afford this? Did you secretly cover costs? You did—how much? I’ll repay you.”

Jiang Weed laughed. “No money needed. It’s just my hometown’s specialty. I didn’t cover anything.”

Such materials came from the back mountain. As a grass spirit, he knew the land’s secrets.

He’d asked Senior Hu Sang—friends could get special treatment. And Su Qing gave him her entire savings.

A fair, honest trade.

“Don’t look at me like that—I really didn’t pay,” Jiang Weed chuckled, clumsily changing the subject. “Have you thought of a name for it?”