Mirror Repair

The implications and hints within were, in fact, remarkably clear.

However, Wen Chaoxuan had been far too eager for success, experiencing an unbroken string of triumphs since he began cultivating.

He had never encountered a single setback, only to discover in the end that he had been cruelly mocked by the Heavenly Dao.

Wen Chaoxuan had brought Lin Langyao back to Qintian Peak, nurturing him carefully for several decades.

He had never once doubted their fated encounter from all those years ago.

Even when later discerning clues that compelled him to overturn all his assumptions, a flicker of hope still lingered in his heart.

Now, following the compass’s guidance, Wen Chaoxuan turned to face the brocade-clad youth, whose expression was utterly bewildered.

He felt the colossal boulder of fate crash down with a resounding thud, sensing the Heavenly Dao’s mockery of his own overconfidence.

Lin Langyao was the only one present who could grasp the meaning behind Wen Chaoxuan’s words.

The moment the phrase “It’s you” escaped his master’s lips, his initial reaction was one of disbelief.

“Master, are you certain—?”

Having heard that his master sought someone to resolve a calamity, Lin Langyao naturally assumed it would be an unparalleled, reclusive grandmaster.

Yet, how could a child who couldn’t even keep track of their own sword possibly help Wen Chaoxuan resolve any calamity?

Lin Langyao even wanted to suggest to Wen Chaoxuan, ‘Master, perhaps you should recalculate; there might have been an error when you cast the divination.’

Wen Chaoxuan gazed at Qi Zifeng for a moment.

“Do you cultivate the sword?” he inquired.

Before Wen Chaoxuan, Qi Zifeng inexplicably lost his usual bravado.

“I—I am a disciple of the Wuling Sword Sect,” he stammered.

No sooner had he spoken than the black-robed sword cultivator, Qiu Yan, pulled him behind them.

Qiu Yan cast a glance at the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master lying on the ground.

“What enmity do you hold against the Pavilion Master, and why did you strike him?” he asked with a stern voice.

“Of course there’s enmity,” Lin Langyao interjected, raising an eyebrow on Wen Chaoxuan’s behalf.

“This old man betrayed his disciple, currying favor and surrendering to others.

Wouldn’t you say that’s despicable, and deserving of a beating?”

Not long after his artificer friend was expelled from Lu Clan Manor and died of grief, the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion began mass-producing the Mirror of Retrospection (TL Note: 溯洄镜, Suhui Jing, a magical mirror used for looking back in time or at past events.).

It was obvious then that the two parties had colluded, working hand in glove.

Seeing Qiu Yan intervene, the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master immediately cried foul.

“Where do these accusations even come from? I’ve been truly wronged!

Sword Venerable Qiu, you know my character… Sword Venerable Qiu?”

Qiu Yan listened to Lin Langyao’s words, pondered for a moment, and astonishingly, lowered his guard, embracing his sword once more.

“Oh,” he uttered, “Then beat him.”

The Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master: “?!?!!”

The old man, who had just been feigning agony, immediately widened his eyes, making them larger than an ox’s.

After all, the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion and the Wuling Sword Sect were considered on good terms, with most of their sect’s sword cultivators coming to the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion to forge their swords.

He never expected Qiu Yan to disregard him so completely.

Seeing the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master’s expression, Qiu Yan perhaps realized his actions were inappropriate.

He then added a statement that utterly extinguished the old man’s hope: “I cannot defeat him.”

That “him” naturally referred to Wen Chaoxuan.

“…”

What kind of figure was Qiu Yan?

He was a sword cultivator widely acknowledged in the cultivation world as second only to Lin Langyao.

If even he admitted defeat, then…

Knowing that escape was impossible today, the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master ceased struggling.

He closed his eyes and lay motionless, like a corpse.

Lin Langyao rolled up his sleeves, intending to give the old man a thorough beating.

Before striking, he didn’t forget to ask Wen Chaoxuan if he had retrieved the mirror.

Wen Chaoxuan seemed to be lost in thought, only lowering his gaze to Lin Langyao after being called several times.

He discovered his unruly disciple’s hands fumbling haphazardly over his person.

Slightly exasperated, he raised a hand to brush him away, then produced the rhomboid bronze mirror from his sleeve.

“When I caught up, he was about to completely destroy the mirror,” Wen Chaoxuan stated, his expression darkening with displeasure at the memory of the previous events.

Upon hearing this, Lin Langyao immediately planted a foot on the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master’s chest, grabbing his collar.

“What else do you have to say?

If you weren’t guilty, why would you destroy it?!”

The Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master’s face turned ashen, and his beard trembled as he spoke.

“Gao Yeluan’s death truly has nothing to do with the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion…

Although she publicly claimed to be a Heavenly Artifice Pavilion disciple, she had long since been expelled from the sect.

The Heavenly Artifice Pavilion could not possibly defy the Lu Clan Manor for her sake.”

Gao Yeluan was the name of his artificer friend.

Knowing Gao Yeluan’s character, Lin Langyao did not easily believe the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master’s words.

“Why would you expel her without good reason?” Lin Langyao pressed relentlessly.

“Her temperament would never lead her to commit anything treasonous.”

A flicker of gloom passed through the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master’s eyes, as if he had finally been forced to divulge a secret hidden deep within his heart.

Helplessly, he confessed: “Because of her master, my junior martial brother…

These matters are originally sect secrets, and only now, under duress, do I reveal them to you all.

Gao Yeluan’s master was originally the last closed-door disciple taken in by my own master.

From a young age, he displayed exceptional talent and was deeply favored by our master.

However, he grew arrogant due to his abilities, and within the sect, he began researching wicked forbidden arts.

Fortunately, before he could cause great catastrophe, he himself died suddenly from qi deviation (TL Note: 走火入魔, zǒuhuǒ rùmó, a common cultivation trope referring to a cultivator suffering from a backlash during cultivation, often leading to mental instability or death.).

After his death, Gao Yeluan was raised and taught by us elders.

If she had been content and well-behaved, there would have been no issue.

But her temperament was precisely like her master’s: equally talented and equally obsessed with artifact crafting.

Seeing her artifact crafting methods grow increasingly bizarre, the elders and I were left with no choice but to decide to expel her.”

Qiu Yan suddenly spoke.

“The master of Gao Yeluan you mentioned, was that Grandmaster Gao?”

Lin Langyao cast a surprised glance at him.

“What a coincidence, you know him?”

“I’ve heard of him,” Qiu Yan affirmed with a nod.

“The Wuling Sword Sect and the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion have long maintained close ties.

Grandmaster Gao was an exceptionally talented artificer.

I recall my master mentioning back then that the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion’s old master even intended for him to succeed as sect leader.”

“Nonsense!” the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master’s face twitched.

“The Heavenly Artifice Pavilion has always passed its leadership only to the head disciple of the sect master…

What virtue or ability did he possess to deserve such a thing…”

His attempt at an explanation only made it seem more suspicious, fueling the belief that he harbored a guilty conscience.

Internal strife within sects was hardly uncommon, and since they were not members of the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion, they had no vested interests.

They merely regarded these past events as an astonishing secret.

Wen Chaoxuan spoke: “Although you did not directly kill her, she indeed died of grief because her sect colluded with her enemies.

Moreover, afterward, you continued to use her artifact crafting methods to create so many Mirrors of Retrospection.

If you still possess any shred of guilt, then by both reason and sentiment, you should seek justice for her.”

Lin Langyao released his foot and dragged the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master up from the ground, warning him.

“Repair the mirror properly.

This time, no more tricks.

You’ve witnessed my master’s strength; if you harbor any crooked thoughts again, not even Lu Wenhan will be able to save you.”

The Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master, thoroughly discomfited, repeatedly assented.

****

That very night, the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion Master began his secluded cultivation (TL Note: 闭关, bìguān, literally “closed-door cultivation”; a period of isolated training for cultivators to achieve breakthroughs or refine skills.) to repair the mirror.

Lin Langyao and Wen Chaoxuan were arranged to stay within the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion.

Strangely, the two from the Wuling Sword Sect also remained, residing in the courtyard directly next to theirs.

Lin Langyao, driven by Wen Chaoxuan’s unusual silence, stepped out of his bedroom to secretly catch his breath.

He had noticed that his master’s mood had been distinctly off ever since he saw Qi Zifeng.

Truth be told, ever since Wen Chaoxuan died and then miraculously returned, Lin Langyao had found himself increasingly unable to comprehend his master.

Even Wen Chaoxuan’s return felt like a dream to him; if not for how difficult it would be to impersonate Wen Chaoxuan, he would have suspected this was someone deliberately disguised to trick him.

Having spent decades together as master and disciple, Lin Langyao had never discovered any secrets about Wen Chaoxuan.

Now, a ‘calamity of fate’ had suddenly emerged, requiring a ‘calamity resolver’.

What troubled Lin Langyao most was Wen Chaoxuan’s hurried demeanor, as if he were rushing to complete all these matters and depart.

Lin Langyao sighed.

In a fleeting glance, he suddenly caught sight of a figure darting past the courtyard wall.

The courtyard walls of the Heavenly Artifice Pavilion’s separate dwelling were quite low, allowing anyone walking past to clearly see a head.

Young Master Qi’s head appeared from behind the low wall.

After the two exchanged gazes, each scrutinizing the other, Qi Zifeng spoke with a peculiar expression.

“I truly don’t know what’s so special about you, that they’d single you out…”

‘I’d like to ask you that same question,’ Lin Langyao thought to himself. ‘What makes you so special, kid?’

Lin Langyao beckoned him with a hooked finger.

“Come here, let me see your sword cultivation aptitude.”

Qi Zifeng scoffed.

“What are you, to be worthy of assessing my aptitude?”

“I’m nothing special,” Lin Langyao retorted with an imposing laugh.

“Just someone who, with the body of a mortal who hasn’t even entered the Dao, managed to beat you into submission and make you my defeated opponent.

Are you coming over, or should I come over to you?”

As Qi Zifeng cried out, “You’re not allowed to come over!”, Lin Langyao had already swiftly pressed down on the wall and vaulted over.

Lin Langyao said, “I ask you, have you lost your fated treasured sword (TL Note: 本命宝剑, běnmìng bǎojiàn, a sword intrinsically linked to its wielder’s life and cultivation, often forged with their essence.)?”

Qi Zifeng had initially intended to retort further, but seeing the unusually serious expression on Lin Langyao’s face, he surmised that the other party had likely already guessed.

Thus, he reluctantly and grudgingly nodded.

“Actually, the sword you’re holding now isn’t bad at all,” Lin Langyao said, crouching on the wall and offering guidance.

“Have you ever considered why, among so many swords, only this one flew to you when it heard your urgent cry?

This indicates that it possesses a certain sentience and is compatible with you.

If your fated sword truly cannot be recovered, using this one would be an excellent alternative.

There’s no need for you to fixate on my Azure Cloud Sword.”

“Who’s fixated on your sword?” Qi Zifeng scoffed disdainfully.

Yet, after speaking, he vaguely sensed something was amiss.

“Your… what sword?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Azure Cloud Sword.”

Qi Zifeng felt a wave of disorientation, recalling that he ought to have heard that name before.

During Qi Zifeng’s youth, there was a prolonged period when his life was overshadowed by the name “Azure Cloud Sword.”

Often, while eating at home, a disciple would suddenly shout from outside, “They’ve broken in!”

His father would drop his chopsticks and bowl, rushing out to demand, “Who has broken in?!”

“It’s—it’s Azure Cloud Sword, Qintian Peak’s forces have invaded!

—*Thud*.”

This was followed by the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground, and then the cold clang of weapons clashing.

His mother, covering his ears, tried to lead him to an inner room, but in her haste, some sounds still seeped through the gaps in her fingers.

He heard an arrogant, youthful, and clear voice declare, “Can you people even handle this?

If not, send someone more capable out here—”

When his father finally returned, the sect leader, who usually carried himself with dignified authority, adorned with a silver crown and brocade sash, was now dragging a sword, panting heavily.

His clothes were tattered from sword qi slashes, though he had no major physical injuries; he simply appeared utterly disheveled.

Qi Zifeng’s mother said with deep concern, “How can we possibly endure these days?

A small skirmish every two days, a major ruckus every three.

Is there no one in the cultivation world who can rein them in?

Perhaps we should just invite Junior Martial Brother Qiu out.”

“How can we rein them in?” Qi Zifeng’s father sighed.

“They only care about killing, not about mere brawls.

Without bloodshed, no matter how much we complain, it’s just considered minor skirmishes.

Who can we even appeal to for justice?

Besides, which noble family or sect hasn’t been beaten?

Everyone’s lives are difficult…

Forget it, let’s not disturb Junior Martial Brother Qiu; he’s in the midst of a major breakthrough.

We… we’ll grit our teeth and somehow endure.”

With that, the couple held hands, gazing at each other through tear-filled eyes, wishing they could embrace and weep together.

The young Qi Zifeng, standing by, was utterly terrified.

He only remembered that during that period, the Wuling Sword Sect suffered immensely.

Every sword cultivator, day and night, wandered within the sect gates, clutching their swords, their clothes ragged, looking like refugees or beggars.

It was as if they had collectively succumbed to mass hysteria, constantly on edge, their expressions changing at the slightest whisper.

The two characters “Azure Cloud” (青云) remained a forbidden word in the Wuling Sword Sect to this day.

Qi Zifeng never imagined he would hear that name again.

His eyes widened to the point of tearing, and he abruptly drew his sword, pointing it at the culprit.

“It’s you!

—My sect had no grievances with you, so why did you repeatedly invade us back then?!”

Lin Langyao used a finger to flick away the gleaming sword tip pointed at him, saying with a bewildered expression, “What’s wrong with me?

I recall being quite friendly with your Wuling Sword Sect, didn’t I?

Since we’re all sword cultivators, I often visited to spar and exchange pointers, building camaraderie.

It’s just that your people became too boring; after a few spars, every time we met again, they’d all charge at me with swords, shouting about fighting and killing.

I feared I might genuinely lose control and kill someone, which is why I stopped going.”

Veins pulsed on Qi Zifeng’s forehead.

He had never imagined that the suffering his parents and sect endured back then was due to such a reason.

He wished he could stab this person straight through on the spot!