Chapter Sixty-Six: Let's Learn to Write

Ah, how embarrassing! A dignified sword immortal, yet he asks me such an ignorant question. However you forged your sword before, just do it the same way—I have no idea how it’s done.

Ye Qiu was completely at a loss. If he actually knew the answer, it would be fine, but he truly didn’t! This was a tricky situation. He’d boasted so much already; he couldn’t possibly admit that everything he’d just said was pure bluster, just to fool the other man, could he? If he really said that, Ye Qiu figured he’d be hacked to pieces by that man’s wild sword…

“Uh… Since it’s called the Heart Sword, you must start by cultivating your heart! You see, the heart is the sword, and the sword is the heart. As long as you train until your heart is as sharp as a sword, you will have mastered the art…” Ye Qiu answered perfunctorily. Yet Liu Jianchen listened with utmost seriousness, murmuring, “My heart as the sword… That sounds incredible. I’ll cultivate that…”

Without hesitation, Liu Jianchen immediately knelt before Ye Qiu and said respectfully, “Master, please accept my obeisance…”

“Damn…” Ye Qiu stood there dumbfounded, completely bewildered. Was this guy insane? Why was he suddenly taking him as his master?

“Get up! I haven’t agreed to take you as my disciple—I can’t accept such a grand gesture…” Ye Qiu said, embarrassed. His own skill was so half-baked, how could he even dream of taking on a disciple? Especially one this formidable. Besides, this guy was already so amazing—what could Ye Qiu possibly teach him?

“Master, when you bestowed that painting upon me years ago, in my heart, you became my sole master. If not for that painting, I would not have achieved what I have today. You are my master.”

Liu Jianchen’s eyes were unwavering with conviction, making Ye Qiu nervous. He feared that if he refused, the man might draw his sword then and there—and where could he complain then?

“Great, now I’m stuck with him? Is this guy serious? Is he just clinging to me on purpose?”

Ye Qiu wiped his brow, catching the cunning glint in Liu Jianchen’s eyes. He was doing this deliberately, hoping for free meals and lodging? Damn, what a sly move…

Thinking back to that painting, Ye Qiu himself was baffled. To him, it was just an ordinary painting, nothing special. How could it possibly contain any sword intent? That wasn’t realistic—he knew his own abilities. He’d never even practiced the sword—how could something he painted possibly possess sword intent?

So Ye Qiu figured Liu Jianchen was just toying with him, and he couldn’t let himself fall for it.

“Stand up! All your achievements are your own—they have nothing to do with me. I never taught you anything…” Ye Qiu said, trying to sound profound. Liu Jianchen’s heart trembled, thinking Ye Qiu was angry, and he quickly stood up.

Inwardly, he thought, “A master of his level probably doesn’t want to get entangled in karmic ties, which is why he refuses to acknowledge me. Yes, that must be it! All true masters are like this—I’ve heard people say that such recluses take pleasure in drifting through the world, avoiding worldly entanglements to protect their path. That’s why he won’t recognize me as his disciple…”

Liu Jianchen felt enlightened, admiring his own perceptiveness for figuring it out. At this moment, Ye Qiu’s manner, his bearing, everything about him resembled a true peerless master.

“Master, I understand! You don’t wish to be ensnared by worldly ties and karmic entanglements, affecting your Dao heart, so you won’t acknowledge me, is that it?” Liu Jianchen said solemnly. Ye Qiu was stunned for a moment.

What?

Karma? Dao heart?

Do I have any of those?

“Uh… Yes, you’re absolutely right,” Ye Qiu replied, sweating. Good grief… You can even make me out to have things I don’t. What else could I do?

Liu Jianchen was delighted. “Master, rest assured, I will never mention this again. I’ll continue to address you as ‘Elder,’ just as before, and never let it trouble you…”

Ye Qiu breathed a sigh of relief. “Very well, do as you please. Since you’re sincere about learning the sword, from today onward, start by practicing your calligraphy…”

Ye Qiu replied absent-mindedly, secretly sneering, “Calligraphy? What nonsense—practicing swordsmanship through writing? Are you mad? If writing could make you a sword master, I’d already be the world’s greatest swordsman. What a joke—writing instead of a good nap…”

Ye Qiu didn’t care what became of Liu Jianchen; he’d achieved his goal of misleading a sword immortal and had his petty revenge. He tossed down the calligraphy materials and left, muttering as he walked, “That’s what you get for selling me out—hah, now you’re finished, completely ruined, poor kid…”

After Ye Qiu left, Liu Jianchen’s gaze burned as he stared at the brushstroke Ye Qiu had left behind, profoundly moved.

He made a firm resolve: “I must reach the realm where my brush becomes a sword—this is the true pinnacle of swordsmanship! If I achieve such a state, even the so-called God of Darkness will bow before me. Just imagining it is delightful! Who would have thought—at last, I, Liu Jianchen, am about to rise. No more bowing to others, no more being eternal runner-up—I’m done with that title.”

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He immediately began practicing calligraphy, using Ye Qiu’s brushstroke as his model, repeating it over and over.

At the counter, Ye Qiu and Cao He munched on sunflower seeds, chatting idly as they watched him, thoroughly entertained.

“Boss, is this guy insane? He’s been writing all morning and isn’t tired of it?” Cao He muttered, grabbing a handful of seeds and tossing them to the Swallowing Heaven Sparrow.

The Swallowing Heaven Sparrow gleefully gulped them down, thrilled to the core—these were treasures, and they were just eating them as snacks? Outrageous…

Ye Qiu glanced at Liu Jianchen. “No idea, maybe he’s just caught up in the moment, thinking he can really grasp supreme sword intent, so he keeps at it. Maybe in a few days he’ll calm down. Everyone acts rashly sometimes—as long as he doesn’t bother us, it’s fine…”

“Heh, boss, can writing really help you practice swordsmanship?” Cao He asked slyly, his face lighting up with a wicked grin.

Ye Qiu met his gaze, grinning wickedly in return, growing bolder. “Do you believe it?”

“No…”

“So?”

“Practice? Practice my ass…”

With that, the two tossed aside their seeds and each found a spot to nap.

The Swallowing Heaven Sparrow was utterly bewildered. “What’s wrong with these two? I don’t get it—am I the fool here?”

It was completely at a loss, suddenly unsure who was in the right. Ye Qiu said writing couldn’t help with swordsmanship, but both it and Liu Jianchen felt that Ye Qiu’s calligraphy brimmed with supreme sword intent. Liu Jianchen’s practice didn’t seem wrong at all. But then, why did Ye Qiu say otherwise? Could it be he couldn’t see his own sword intent?

“No, impossible! I really don’t get what’s going on in my master’s head. He clearly possesses terrifying power—every brushstroke he makes is filled with sword intent. Yet he claims it’s all nonsense, just random scribbling? Could I be wrong? Maybe there really isn’t any sword intent? Hmm… Maybe I really am mistaken,” the Swallowing Heaven Sparrow muttered, beginning to suspect its own judgment, thinking Liu Jianchen had been completely fooled.

“Sigh, fool! The master himself says there’s no sword intent, yet you keep practicing like an idiot. How could the master be wrong? Of course you’re the one at fault! Poor child…”

The Swallowing Heaven Sparrow gazed at Liu Jianchen with pity, as if watching a clown—never realizing that, in the end, the real clown was itself.