The Sword

Li Huowang climbed the mountain path with ragged breaths, the oil-paper parcel in his hand swaying with every labored step.

To be honest, the path up Mount Henghua was truly terrible—no stairs to speak of, just a mess of pits and bumps. No matter how many times he walked it, he could never get used to it.

His sweat-soaked clothes chafed his tender skin, leaving it raw and stinging.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Mantou, who had already reached the gate of Anci Nunnery, spun around and wagged his tail at his master.

By the time Li Huowang dragged his leaden legs up to the entrance, he found Mantou already sitting there waiting for him. Dogs had much better stamina than people.

“What are you following me for? Go back down!”

Mantou clearly didn’t understand. He bounded over to Li Huowang, tail wagging, and affectionately licked his fingers.

Li Huowang leaned against the stone gate, catching his breath. He studied the couplet carved in nüshu script on either pillar, then, once his breathing steadied, pinched his nose and headed toward the main hall deeper within the compound.

Anci Nunnery was as it always was—filthy, foul, and dilapidated.

The semi-rotted swamp of leftover food that had once covered the courtyard was mostly gone now. Whether it had been eaten or had simply rotted away completely, he couldn’t tell.

“Why’d you bring a dog up here? The shit in the nunnery is for feeding the pigs, not your mutt!”

The nun Miaoyu who greeted him was wary.

“Elder Sister, is Abbess Jingxin in?” Li Huowang stroked the top of Mantou’s head.

Miaoyu was about to answer when her face twisted into a greedy expression. “Give me one of those pastries you’re carrying, and I’ll tell you.”

“I’m afraid not.” Li Huowang gave a slight bow and turned to walk toward Abbess Jingxin’s quarters.

He wound his way through the dilapidated temple buildings until he stood before his destination.

The wall that was supposed to have been torn down had been rebuilt. Inside, he could see Abbess Jingxin.

Compared to before, she had returned to her normal size. The fat had once again swelled beneath her skin, plumping her body, and the wrinkles had crept back across her forehead.

The only things that hadn’t changed were her two black, empty eye sockets and her sunken, toothless mouth.

“Ah—mung-bean cakes! Did you buy them from Fushouzhai down at the foot of the mountain? Their mung-bean cakes are second to none. And their wife cakes! And the bean-paste mooncakes!”

Li Huowang watched as Jingxin dragged her mass of fat across the floor, using her blackened hands to pull herself toward him. He held out the parcel of pastries.

With no teeth left, she snatched the bundle and shoved it into her mouth, greasy brown paper and all, grinding it against her red gums.

Li Huowang reached into her mouth and carefully peeled the oil-paper away. “Venerable One, I owe you my thanks for your guidance before. If not for your help, I would probably be dead by now.”

Jingxin didn’t answer. All her attention was fixed on the pastries, eating until her mouth was smeared with crumbs.

Li Huowang didn’t rush. He stood quietly, watching her devour them.

The parcel held three and a half jin of mung-bean cakes—enough to last an ordinary family for quite a while. For Jingxin, it was barely a challenge.

When only a few pieces remained, she forced herself to stop, wrapped them back up in the oil paper, and set them aside.

“Your master is gone? Let me see.” Jingxin stretched out her hands toward Li Huowang, her fingernails caked with black grime.

She carefully felt around his abdomen for a long moment, then slowly withdrew.

“Mm. Good. Your master really is gone. Those Ao-Jing Sect folks turned out to be useful after all.”

Li Huowang glanced at Danyangzi, who was standing not far away, and nodded in agreement. “Indeed. I have to thank you for that as well, Venerable One.”

“If you’re so grateful, why didn’t you buy more? You think three and a half jin of pastries is enough to even fill the gaps between my teeth?”

Jingxin grumbled in dissatisfaction, then picked up the leftover cakes, sniffed them greedily, and tucked them into the folds of her fat.

“Fine. I’ll bring more next time.”

“You said it. I’ll remember. I hate it when people break their word about food.”

The tone between them had clearly changed—grown much warmer than before.

“By the way, Venerable One, you asked Junior Bai to deliver a message telling me to come back. Did you have something to discuss?” Li Huowang’s question made Jingxin fall into thought.

She pondered for a long time before speaking again. “Where are you headed next?”

“I’m taking the other disciples home.”

“And after that?”

“I’m going to find a way to cure the Heart-Element condition.” His voice was calm, but utterly resolute.

Jingxin was not surprised by his answer. “You really are a stubborn child. Go ahead and search. Maybe when you hit a dead end, you’ll turn back.”

“I’ll worry about the dead end when I get there. Living caught between reality and illusion isn’t much better than being dead.”

“Mm. Well said. Well said…”

Li Huowang’s heart stirred. “Venerable One, do you have any guidance on how to be free of the Heart-Element?”

“What guidance could I give? If I had any, my own son wouldn’t have gone mad. If you want to keep searching, I won’t stop you. Tell you what—I’ll sell you a weapon. Something to defend yourself with on the road.”

“A weapon?” Li Huowang followed her gaze to a dark corner of the room. Propped diagonally against the grimy wall was a longsword.

He walked over and grasped it. He nearly failed to lift it—the sword was remarkably heavy.

Carrying the blade, he returned to Jingxin, gripped the hilt, and drew it a fraction of an inch.

In that instant, a surge of killing intent so dense it was almost material flooded the room.

A wave of heat slammed into Li Huowang’s head, turning his vision red. His body trembled uncontrollably. He could feel something flowing into him from the sword’s hilt—a steady, relentless stream.

He forced the blade back into its sheath with all his strength. Everything slowly returned to normal. Panting, he shuddered with lingering fear.

“It’s a military blade. A bit of killing intent is normal. Ordinary people would be devoured by it, but you’re a Heart-Element. You’ll be fine. A little killing intent like this is nothing next to your bewilderment.”

“This sword can kill men and cut down spirits. It’s perfect for self-defense on the road. From now on, don’t use the Thousand Greats Record anymore. It always looks so painful to watch.”

Li Huowang stared at the longsword in his hands, stunned. Even though he knew nothing about such things, the mere feeling from that single draw told him this blade was extraordinary. It was something truly precious.

“Venerable One… you said you want to sell me this sword? But I don’t have any money right now.”

“If you don’t have money, you can write an IOU. Thirty thousand taels of gold—that should do it. With interest. And… just in case, I mean just in case, you actually find a way to break free of the Heart-Element… you have to tell me.”

Li Huowang looked at the abbess with a complicated expression. He could hear it clearly—the first part was all just talk. The real thing she wanted was the last sentence.