Chapter 53.1

Xue Ming looked at the shattered sword pieces on the ground, and the first thought that came to mind was that the sword was completely ruined. It was impossible to repair or reforge it in such a state. The sword had just been returned yesterday, and today, Yan Yuhe personally destroyed it.

Everyone in the Tai Xu Sect knew the importance of this sword to Yan Yuhe. It was not only a relic left by his mother but also an indispensable tool on his path of cultivation and a powerful assistant in slaying demons. Unexpectedly, it wasn’t broken in battle but was destroyed by Yan Yuhe himself. He stood in the courtyard, still holding the sword’s hilt. Only a small broken blade remained, which still reflected a faint light in the sunlight, indicating it was a superior sword.

Several disciples, including Liu Mengyuan, were already dumbfounded and greatly shocked. Xue Ming managed to maintain her composure slightly better, only showing a hint of surprise. In contrast, the person who smashed the sword, Yan Yuhe, remained calm and indifferent, as if he had done something unrelated to himself. He casually placed the hammer and broken sword on the anvil and slowly rolled down his sleeves.

Seeing this, Xue Ming began to doubt whether the sword was truly important to Yan Yuhe. Perhaps everyone misunderstood him because he was usually reticent, and even after living together for many years, no one could truly understand him. But Xue Ming was different. She was good at asking questions. She took a few steps forward and was about to speak when she saw Yan Yuhe’s indifferent gaze fall on Liu Mengyuan. He said, “Liu Mengyuan.”

Liu Mengyuan shuddered, knowing that although his senior brother was usually difficult to approach, they had the same master. His senior brother treated him differently from other disciples and rarely called him by his full name unless he had made a big mistake or angered him.

At this moment, Yan Yuhe had just smashed his own sword, and Liu Mengyuan was already scared to death. Hearing his name called, his legs began to tremble, and he started calculating whether he was in big trouble today.

“Clean up the things on the ground,” Yan Yuhe said.

Liu Mengyuan was stunned momentarily, then breathed a sigh of relief. He thought he would be skinned alive today, but it turned out he was just being asked to do some work. As the youngest in the sect, Liu Mengyuan had followed Yan Yuhe around as a junior brother and a servant and was used to doing chores. He immediately smiled obsequiously and replied, “Got it.”

Yan Yuhe took a few steps inside before suddenly seeming to remember something and turned to Liu Mengyuan, saying, “Yesterday, I discussed with our master. Now that you have reached the age of training outside the mountain, you can no longer be lazy in your cultivation and idle your days. Master asked me to tell you to pack up and leave the mountain for training within the next few days. You are not allowed to return for three years.”

Liu Mengyuan’s vision went black, and he felt like the sky was falling. He almost collapsed, but fortunately, a few girls nearby supported him in time.

Yan Yuhe didn’t pay any more attention and glanced at Xue Ming before striding into the room. Xue Ming thought this might be a hint and looked back at the devastated Liu Mengyuan. She casually instructed, “You all wait in the main hall for a while. I’ll be right back.”

Xue Ming put away her umbrella and followed Yan Yuhe to the bedroom. After entering, she closed the door and eagerly asked, “What’s wrong? Are you in a bad mood? Why did you smash the sword?”

Yan Yuhe removed his outer robe, poured a cup of water on the table, and drank it before calmly replying, “The sword was spoiled.”

“Didn’t you give it to Emperor Qingchao to repair? Wasn’t it fixed?” Xue Ming pressed. She had only glanced at the sword briefly yesterday and felt its sharp aura. The blade was as thin as a cicada’s wing, showing no signs of repair.

Xue Ming didn’t understand why Yan Yuhe still considered the sword to be broken despite being repaired so perfectly.

After finishing the water, Yan Yuhe took out a medicine bottle, pulled Xue Ming to sit on the soft couch, and unwrapped the white silk cloth wrapped around her hand like a zongzi. The wound on her palm was still glaringly severe, almost bone-deep, with blood congealed on it, making it look even more gruesome. Although the medicine Yan Yuhe gave was good, the wound seemed more serious, and despite applying the medicine twice, there were no signs of improvement.

“It really is a powerful sword,” Xue Ming said softly, smiling. “I touched it lightly, and it almost cut my hand off.”

Yan Yuhe lowered his eyes, poured the medicine on her palm, and said, “A sword that doesn’t distinguish between friend and foe is no different from a broken sword. How can it be considered powerful?”

Xue Ming was stunned, looking at the bloody wound on her palm, suddenly realizing something. She asked, “Did you smash the sword because it hurt me?”

“Yes,” Yan Yuhe replied, gently applying the medicine to the wound. His tone was very calm.

“But it was me who touched the sword first yesterday. Your sword has the innate ability to distinguish between evil and righteousness. Maybe it reacted because of the heavy yin energy in my body,” Xue Ming said, bewildered. “I’ll be more careful in the future and avoid touching it. Besides, my condition is improving and should be fine soon.”

Yan Yuhe replied, “There might be a next time.”

Xue Ming noticed his usual calm demeanor, showing no regret or sorrow over the destroyed sword. She couldn’t tell if he truly had no feelings for the sword or was pretending to be strong. She scratched her head and asked, “But I heard you’ve had this sword since childhood. Don’t you feel sad about destroying it?”

While bandaging her wound, Yan Yuhe responded, “It used to be connected to my spiritual consciousness and obeyed my commands. Since the battle with Hundred Crow, the sword’s body has been spoiled, and it no longer senses my spiritual consciousness. It has become useless. What’s the point of keeping something useless?”

Yan Yuhe once appreciated the sword’s ability to identify demons, making it highly convenient for him to exterminate them. However, this appreciation has wavered since the day the myriad ghosts were struck down by heavenly thunder and Xue Ming fainted in his arms. The sword began to hum and tried to attack Xue Ming, mistaking her for a demon. The sword could no longer connect with his spiritual consciousness, thus treating Xue Ming as an enemy. It had emitted sharp sword energy several times, attempting to attack her. Yan Yuhe had tried many times to re-establish the connection with the sword while polishing it, but all attempts failed.

Xue Ming was unaware of all this. She seemed to like the sword, always hiding nearby with her big, curious eyes whenever he took it out, thinking she was being discreet. Little did she know, the sword was constantly vibrating, wanting to take her life.

“Do you think I have a talent for learning swordsmanship?” Xue Ming asked playfully, lying on the bed with her head resting on her hands and her legs swinging back and forth.

Yan Yuhe replied, “I’ll teach you someday.”

Xue Ming happily said, “Can I use your sword to learn?”

Yan Yuhe looked at the sword in his hand, which was trembling and wanting to harm Xue Ming, and didn’t respond. This earned him a muttered “stingy” from Xue Ming.

He initially thought the sword was damaged, so he sent it to Emperor Qing Chao for repair, hoping to find another way to solve the problem over time. However, yesterday, when he opened the courtyard door, he saw Xue Ming standing there, crying, with blood gushing from her hand, staining her clothes.

Yan Yuhe felt a string snap in his mind. Seeing Xue Ming’s tear-filled eyes and blood-covered hand, he began to regret it. She wouldn’t have suffered harm from the sword if he had been decisive and broke it the first time it indicated killing intent toward Xue Ming. Despite rushing back as soon as he heard the sword had been returned, Yan Yuhe hadn’t expected that in such a short time, Xue Ming would be harmed by it. Fortunately, she was only injured in the hand; if the sword had struck her neck, she would have been killed.

Yan Yuhe thought, “This sword cannot be kept.”

Xue Ming said, “Since it is hostile towards me, I can avoid it until my body recovers. Isn’t it a pity to smash it?”

“You are half-ghost, with half of your blood being ghostly by nature. It has nothing to do with the yin energy in your body,” Yan Yuhe replied, tying a knot in the silk cloth and seemingly satisfied with his bandaging job. “There are countless weapons in the world; we can find another later.”

Xue Ming finally understood. Yan Yuhe’s sword had killing intent towards her not because of the excess yin energy in her body but because of her inherent nature. Yan Yuhe used to suppress the sword’s intent with his spiritual consciousness, but after that battle, the sword no longer obeyed him.

Yan Yuhe believed that if the sword had injured her once, it would do so again, so he destroyed it. He chose her over the sword.

Looking at Yan Yuhe’s calm and handsome face, Xue Ming suddenly felt a strong emotion emanating from him, making her feel valued and cared for like never before. She hadn’t expected this to be the reason Yan Yuhe smashed the sword. No wonder he had been staring at the sword in a daze for a while; he must have been considering how to solve this problem.

With trembling eyelashes, she asked in a small voice, “Wasn’t that the sword your mother left you before she passed away?”

Yan Yuhe replied, “The sword’s usefulness to me is more important than who left it to me. Besides, I have never seen what my mother looked like.”

People always mentioned that the sword was a treasure left to Yan Yuhe by his mother before she passed away. In reality, Yan Yuhe grew up in the Taixu Sect and had never met his mother. Over the past twenty years, he rarely thought of the woman who gave birth to him but remained a stranger to him. It seems people like to imbue objects with emotions, especially those left by the deceased. They believed Yan Yuhe kept the sword close because it came from someone special and held extraordinary significance for him. However, they forgot that Yan Yuhe was always cold and indifferent, treating people the same way, let alone an object.

Yan Yuhe used to find the sword useful and didn’t care about anything else. Now, he only knew that the sword had hurt Xue Ming and could hurt her again in the future, so he didn’t hesitate to destroy it.

“You are more important than the sword.”

Yan Yuhe said this in a very ordinary tone, without changing his expression as if Xue Ming’s place in his heart was naturally much higher than the sword that had accompanied him since childhood.

In that instant, it felt like a vibrant spring breeze swept into Xue Ming’s heart, making the barren land bloom with colorful flowers, filling the mountains and fields with their beauty. The clouds parted, and golden sunlight shone through. The fragrance of flowers, combined to create a sweet scent, made her feel warm.

At that moment, Xue Ming had to admit that she had been a bit stubborn earlier. She said she longed for love but could do without it. In truth, that wasn’t the case.

Humans fear loneliness and seek emotional connections with others, just as people naturally seek out fire. Once warmed by its light, it’s hard to endure the cold darkness again.

Xue Ming grew up without any support, always needing to read the expressions of those around her. As a child, it was the older kids and the caretakers at the orphanage. If she sensed any displeasure, she would quietly leave. In school, it was her friends; she often borrowed money for study materials and supplies, and if her friends showed impatience, she would quickly promise to return what she borrowed. At work, it was her colleagues and bosses. She always did a bit more, not to please anyone, but to make her life more peaceful.

Xue Ming had long mastered the art of reading people’s expressions. She was well aware of the ill-intentioned glances and the ulterior motives behind words like “love” and “like” directed at her. Most of the time, she preferred to play dumb, pretending not to understand.

That night, after a life-threatening escape, she stumbled into Yan Yuhe’s lakeside cottage. During her panic and disarray, she saw ripples in his usually calm eyes—an unintentional revelation of his emotions, which became her hope for survival. She didn’t bother to analyze whether Yan Yuhe kept her around out of attraction or for other reasons. Initially, she just wanted to survive, thinking she could leave once she escaped her predicament. However, Yan Yuhe’s gaze lingered on her longer over time, and he drew closer to her. She often felt someone holding her hand or embracing her waist in her sleep. Upon waking, Yan Yuhe remained as cold and calm as ever, but he would habitually hold her hand or patiently respond to her every word and glance.