The Storyteller’s Revelation

On the very day Ye Di drove Xu Niantang out of Quzhou City.

In the southern suburbs of Luoyang, a tea stall had been set up along a secluded path.

Travelers gathered around several long tables, propping their feet up as they drank tea and sought refuge from the heat beneath the canopy.

At the front of the stall sat a storyteller in a black robe, currently recounting a segment about the Sword Immortal Ye Di:

‘It is said that although Sword Immortal Ye possessed unparalleled martial arts, two fists could hardly contend against four hands. Thus, he was imprisoned within Luoyang’s underground detached palace…’

A brawny man grabbed the leather flask from his table, tilting his head back to gulp down its contents with a resounding ‘glug-glug-glug.’

Wiping his mouth, he tossed the flask aside and declared loudly:

‘I know this part! Sword Immortal Ye was then rescued by the equally renowned heroine, known throughout the martial world as Lin Qingyi!’

The crowd, upon hearing this, chimed in with agreement:

‘Exactly, exactly! The Chronicles of Heroes also tell it this way.’

‘Tell me, if Sword Immortal Ye were to fight Lin Qingyi, who would emerge victorious?’

‘Naturally, Sword Immortal Ye would have the upper hand. The supreme master of the sword, past and present, could only be Grandfather Ye!’

‘Nonsense, utter rubbish! No matter how strong Sword Immortal Ye was, wasn’t he still imprisoned underground by Zhaixing Pavilion? Had Lin Qingyi not intervened, he likely would have perished in that sunless dungeon.’

With one word after another, these people argued vociferously about ‘who was stronger, Sword Immortal Ye or Lin Qingyi,’ their clamor becoming utterly irreconcilable.

In a corner of the tea stall, a woman in a green robe sat impassively.

She neither joined the debate nor seemed inclined to listen.

Instead, she merely took a sip from the teacup before her, then closed her eyes to rest, cradling a long sword in her arms.

The storyteller slapped his gavel, its resounding crack silencing the crowd’s chatter.

‘As for whose martial arts were superior between Sword Immortal Ye and Lin Qingyi, that remains unknown to us. However, regarding whose sword was mightier, there has long been a definitive conclusion.’

A man dressed in common cloth interjected:

‘That’s only natural. Lin Qingyi’s beloved sword, Tangxi, was appraised by Mo Shu Pavilion as a unique masterpiece. Who in this world would dare to challenge its might?’

The woman in green had been leaning against the table, eyes narrowed as if dozing.

Upon hearing these words, she instantly opened her eyes, fixing her gaze on the man who had just spoken.

Yet, not a single person noticed her piercing stare, as they continued their fervent discussion:

‘So, it seems Lin Qingyi might be somewhat stronger than Sword Immortal Ye? After all, with Tangxi by her side, she holds a slight advantage.’

‘You clearly lack insight. At their level, plucking a flower or a leaf can serve as a weapon. How could they be limited by a single blade? In my opinion, the fact that Lin Qingyi still needs the precious sword Tangxi by her side precisely demonstrates that her mastery is not yet complete.’

‘Brother, your words are sound! It’s just like when Old Wang from next door complains his knife isn’t sharp enough every time he loses to me in a radish-cutting contest!’

After observing the group with a focused gaze for a while, the woman in green found nothing unusual; it was merely common street gossip.

Just as she was about to lower her gaze and close her eyes, the storyteller’s voice suddenly rang out again beside her ear:

‘Pray, good sirs, pause for a moment. Regarding this precious sword Tangxi, I have one more thing to say. Would you all kindly listen?’

The chattering customers at the tea stall immediately fell silent, all turning their gazes towards the storyteller.

The woman in green frowned, thinking, ‘How could a group of unruly, vulgar martial artists be so obedient at this moment?’

The storyteller spoke:

‘It is said that the origin of Tangxi is quite extraordinary. What do you suppose it is? It is, in fact, a Shura sword forged from the very essence, spirit, and blood of Sword Immortal Ye!’

At these words, gasps of shock rippled through the crowd, and someone quickly interjected:

‘Storyteller, you shouldn’t speak so carelessly. A hundred years ago, Sword Immortal Ye and the Demon Lord fought a great battle on Immortal’s Peak, ultimately perishing together. This is a well-known fact. Now that you’ve said this, are you suggesting there’s a hidden mystery behind Sword Immortal Ye’s death?’

‘Exactly! Storyteller, what do you mean by that?’

‘You’ve whetted everyone’s appetite; now you must give us an explanation!’

The storyteller gently fanned himself, smiling faintly, his tone unhurried as he said:

‘Please, don’t rush, everyone. My words have their reasons. Sword Immortal Ye did indeed perish with the Demon Lord; this is beyond doubt. But what if Sword Immortal Ye’s martial arts were actually far superior to the Demon Lord’s, and he should not have perished alongside him?’

One person listening at the stall inquired:

‘Storyteller, I understand what you mean now. Are you suggesting that Sword Immortal Ye suffered a severe drain on his vital energy because he forged Tangxi, which is why he fought the Demon Lord to a mutual defeat, ultimately leading to both their deaths?’

The storyteller smiled faintly:

‘Precisely. That is exactly what I mean.’

A masked woman with a cold voice interjected:

‘However, this is merely your personal conjecture. None of us here witnessed how Tangxi came into being, or how Sword Immortal Ye died. How can we draw a definitive conclusion?’

‘Who says no one witnessed it?’

The storyteller declared,

‘While our tea stall may not be grand, it is certainly not small, and it undoubtedly harbors hidden masters. Perhaps there are a few esteemed elders among us who know the martial world’s affairs of yesteryear like the back of their hand.’

The masked woman uttered a soft ‘Oh?’ her tone laced with curiosity:

‘Since the storyteller is so certain, I presume they’ve recognized some notable figures among us, haven’t they?’

The brawny man who had earlier chugged the entire flask of water burst into laughter:

‘In my opinion, there’s no need for the storyteller to intervene; I can point out who she is myself. Among those present, there’s a certain hero swaggering about, clearly holding no regard for the heroes of the world.’

The man in common cloth rose and cupped his hands in a respectful salute to the storyteller, saying:

‘Elder Zhai, who would have thought your impromptu performance as a storyteller would be quite convincing.’

The storyteller chuckled:

‘All the myriad crafts of the marketplace boil down to a single word: ‘practice.’ With extreme practice, skill naturally emerges. Back when the Pavilion Master was a restless child, she used to pester me to tell her many tales of the martial world.’

He glanced towards the corner, then suddenly rose, straightened his sleeves, and announced loudly to the woman in green:

‘Zhai Dingbo of Zhaixing Pavilion extends his greetings to the heroine Lin Ke, also known as Baili Hongyi.’

Suddenly, the martial artists who had been quietly listening to the stories at the tea stall sprang up from their tables and chairs with a collective ‘clatter,’ each revealing their gleaming weapons.

Only the woman in green remained seated at the stall, swiftly surrounded by the Zhaixing Pavilion members, who had been disguised as tea drinkers, leaving no escape.

Lin Ke did not even raise an eyebrow. Still cradling her long sword, she lowered her head and said:

‘How did you discern my identity?’

Elder Zhai, disguised as the storyteller, chuckled:

‘The Pavilion Master once mentioned that Lin Qingyi has a tear mole beneath her left eye. It seems, young lady, you failed to complete your disguise, falling short on a crucial detail.’

Lin Ke nodded and said:

‘So Xiao Wushang isn’t dead after all? Although we fought a few times back then, for him to have noticed such a minute detail and remembered it for all these years is truly… disgusting.’

Elder Zhai paused, realizing she had misunderstood.

However, he felt no need to clarify. The fewer people who knew of the old Pavilion Master’s death, the safer Zhaixing Pavilion would be.

Thus, he spoke in a deep voice:

‘Zhaixing Pavilion’s principle has always been to kill a thousand innocents rather than let one enemy escape. Although we confirmed your identity, we have also eliminated all other Sword Attendants.’

Lin Ke scoffed coldly:

‘Zhaixing Pavilion’s methods remain as ruthless and venomous as ever.’

Elder Zhai smiled faintly:

‘When it comes to ‘ruthlessness’ and ‘venom,’ no one in this world can compare to Miss Lin. Having heard that all the Sword Attendants have perished, does not a single ripple stir within your heart, young lady?’

Lin Ke replied:

‘Since they are called ‘Sword Attendants,’ it is natural for them to serve a single sword their entire lives. Even dying for it could be considered a fitting end.’

Elder Zhai praised, ‘Excellent!’ and said:

‘What a ‘fitting end’! Your obsession with swords, young lady, is clearly evident from this. However, while Sword Attendants sacrificing themselves for a sword might be considered a fitting end, when Sword Immortal Ye died for a sword back then, I wonder if that could also be considered a fitting end?’

As Elder Zhai posed this question, all the Zhaixing Pavilion members present held their breath.

They immediately took up their stances, their eyes fixed intently, fearing that Lin Ke, stung by his words, would suddenly lash out and attack.

A deathly silence persisted for several minutes, so oppressive it was almost suffocating.

After a long while, Lin Ke slowly raised her head. Her gaze, filled with confusion and bewilderment, fixed upon Elder Zhai, who was still disguised as the storyteller, as she said:

‘Sword Immortal Ye? Although I have long admired his great reputation, I have never met him. What connection does his sudden mention by you have to me?’