The Path of the Golden Sword

The celebratory banquet at Drifting Snow Hall continued late into the night. Under a star-filled sky, Ji Yichuan and his wife were returning home with their infant son.

“Ugh…” Ji Ning blearily opened his tiny eyes and saw the countless stars scattered across the night sky.

Ah! He had fallen asleep! He had actually fallen asleep in the middle of it all!

That magnificent performance—the musicians in the hall playing stone chimes, bells, ocarinas, and other instruments; the barefoot, fur-clad maidens dancing with wild abandon—it was utterly unlike anything on Earth and truly captivating. But he was just a baby, and halfway through he’d gotten too sleepy to stay awake, dozing off and snoring away.

“Yichuan.” Yuchi Snow spoke as they walked, her voice filled with anger. “You said at the banquet that our son should win the Golden Sword? Do you have any idea how difficult that is?”

“I did it when I was young,” Ji Yichuan said with a frown.

“You are the strongest expert of our Western Prefecture. You could do it as a youth. But in a thousand years of history, how many have been like you?” Yuchi Snow was furious. Normally she was gentle, but when it came to her son she became fierce. “And today, the Prefectural Lord proposed that our child be the next Prefectural Lord. Five Stewards agreed immediately. Only one more was needed! If we could persuade just one more Steward, that would make six in favor, and our son could easily become Prefectural Lord. Why must he win the Golden Sword?”

Winning the Golden Sword was an extremely difficult trial.

Ji Yichuan shook his head and sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“How don’t I understand?” Yuchi Snow fumed.

“You’ve only just come to our Western Prefecture, so you don’t grasp the subtleties,” Ji Yichuan explained. “Our Western Prefecture’s Ten Stewards are divided into three factions: the Prefectural Lord’s faction, Ji Lie’s faction, and the neutral faction. The cost of winning over another Steward would be enormous.”

“So what if the cost is high?” Yuchi Snow protested.

“Yes, we could pay a steep price to make our son Prefectural Lord,” Ji Yichuan said, his voice harsh. “But if our son is incompetent and we force him onto the Prefectural Lord’s seat, he will only suffer. It will be torture!”

Yuchi Snow was taken aback.

“I don’t want our son to suffer,” Ji Yichuan said slowly. “That’s why I proposed winning the Golden Sword.”

“If our son is gifted with extraordinary talent and insight, if he advances swiftly, he will naturally be able to win the Golden Sword. By winning the Golden Sword, he would earn the Prefectural Lord’s position with no one able to object.” Ji Yichuan continued. “If he cannot win the Golden Sword, then let him live a leisurely, carefree life. I, Ji Yichuan, will shelter him his entire life, letting him live without worries.”

Yuchi Snow fell into thought.

She understood now.

Becoming Prefectural Lord wasn’t necessarily a life of ease. A strong person could naturally hold the position. But an incompetent person, even if installed by force, would only suffer.

“Yichuan, I was wrong,” Yuchi Snow said softly.

Ji Yichuan simply lowered his head and touched his son’s little face. “Those eyes are wide open. The little fellow woke up long ago.”

“By the way, Yichuan, what shall we name the child?” Yuchi Snow asked eagerly. “When I was pregnant, you were never satisfied with any name I suggested. Now the child is born—you must think of a suitable name.”

“A name follows our son for his entire life,” Ji Yichuan said. “How could I not be careful? I haven’t been able to decide. But just now a name came to me. Let us name him… Ning. Whether his life is calm or turbulent, whether he is weak or strong, let him always maintain a peaceful heart.”

“Ning?” Yuchi Snow repeated. “Ji Ning… Ji Ning…”

Ji Ning?

The baby in his mother’s arms stared wide-eyed. Was this the name that the First Judge, Lord Cui, had set for his next life in the Book of Life and Death? Or was it just a coincidence?

Was he to be called Ji Ning in this life as well?

The strongest expert of the Ji Clan’s Western Prefecture was ‘Dripping Sword’ Ji Yichuan.

The second strongest was ‘Tigerfiend’ Ji Lie.

Inside Ji Lie’s residence.

“Congratulations, Father.” A middle-aged man with dozens of braids said eagerly, “Ji Yichuan is arrogant and blind, forcing his son to compete for the Golden Sword! In over a thousand years of our Western Prefecture’s history, no one has ever won the Prefectural Lord’s position by winning the Golden Sword.”

An old man with fiery red hair and a tiny crimson snake coiled around his ear slammed his hand down on the armrest. “Back when I was young, I should have been the Prefectural Lord! But I was too ostentatious back then, and I fell into the trap set by my elder brother, ‘Ji Youyang.’ Let that old bastard Ji Youyang sit on the Prefectural Lord’s seat for eighty full years!”

“Eighty years!”

“I’ve been waiting, always waiting. Every day has been agony.” Ji Lie gritted his teeth. “I never expected the direct line to produce a Ji Yichuan! Truly a peerless genius! Fortunately, fortunately this Ji Yichuan’s heart is set on immortal cultivation and he has no desire to be Prefectural Lord. Now this Ji Yichuan is too arrogant, choosing such a path for his son.”

“Heaven wants us to take the Prefectural Lord’s seat,” the middle-aged man said excitedly.

“Don’t be impatient.”

Ji Lie barked, “I took a fall when I was young, and that taught me a lesson—never celebrate too early before real success! We need to make preparations.”

“What does Father mean?” the middle-aged man asked.

Ji Lie frowned, deep in thought.

Time passed slowly. The middle-aged man sat nearby, not daring to disturb his father’s contemplation.

“Hmph!” Ji Lie said in a low voice, “Let’s do it this way.”

The middle-aged man looked at his father. “Father, what do you intend?”

“To win the Golden Sword, one must defeat all the tribal youths and Ji Clan disciples,” Ji Lie said in a low voice. “The Ji Clan disciples are few in number but receive plenty of treasures and techniques. The tribal youths are numerous but receive little. Even so, in the quadrennial Golden Sword Ceremony, a Ji Clan disciple manages to win only once every five or six ceremonies.”

The middle-aged man nodded. “There are too many tribal youths, so naturally some prodigies emerge. But no matter how talented they are, the true secret arts of our Ji Clan will never be taught to them, only second-rate arts. Even if these tribal youths are formidable in the Golden Sword Ceremony, after seventy or eighty years, the truly strong will still come from the Ji Clan.”

“What I mean is…” Ji Lie said in a low voice, “Select the best among the tribal youths. I will give them plenty of treasures and resources, cultivate them heavily. Without my patronage, those tribal geniuses were already strong; once they receive my support, they will soar to new heights, becoming even more powerful. I refuse to believe that Ji Yichuan’s son can sweep through all opponents and win the Golden Sword.”

“Right, right.” The middle-aged man nodded repeatedly.

Normally, the treatment of tribal youths and Ji Clan disciples was completely different. The Ji Clan disciples were family and naturally received many benefits. The tribal youths had to be both courted and controlled. But this time… they would pour everything into cultivating the most outstanding few!

“Father, this way Ji Yichuan’s son is sure to lose,” the middle-aged man said with confidence.

“Hahaha…” Ji Lie laughed. “Remember, plant some informants near Ji Yichuan. I want to know how strong Ji Yichuan’s son is as he grows. Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win every battle!”

“Yes!” The middle-aged man’s eyes lit up.

On a warm little bed, Yuchi Snow gently laid her son down.

“Ning’er, be good. Sleep.” Yuchi Snow softly kissed her son’s little cheek, then lay down herself.

Ji Ning made a wry face.

He smacked his lips. He had just drunk milk—such a strange sensation.

Everything he had experienced in the past twenty-four hours was too thrilling and unbelievable. First, he had crossed the Naihe Bridge. Just as he was about to drink Granny Meng’s soup, a massive upheaval had struck the Netherworld. It felt like heaven and earth were shattering. He reacted quickly, leaping into the Path of Humanity and reincarnating into this world.

A snow-white hound—was that his Uncle White?

A massive black serpent over a hundred meters long, with a head as large as a house, which could transform into a black-haired middle-aged man—was that his Uncle Black?

And now they wanted him to win the Golden Sword and become Prefectural Lord?

Did anyone bother to ask for his opinion?

“Sigh, a baby has no rights,” Ji Ning licked the milk from the corner of his mouth, then put aside his thoughts. A glimmer of anticipation shone in his eyes. “Time to train!”

On his very first day in this world, Ji Ning could sense the power of his clan. Leading countless tribes could hardly be ordinary. But the Prefectural Lord’s position clearly drew covetous eyes. That old man with the tiny crimson snake on his ear had considerable influence, daring to oppose the Prefectural Lord and shout at his father?

Whatever!

He was just a baby; there was no need to trouble himself. The most important thing now was to train, to train the visualization technique, the Nuwa Diagram.

According to Lord Cui, even if he reincarnated into the Heavenly Realm, among the heavenly soldiers and generals this visualization technique could make him stand out—let alone in the mortal world. It must be the most supreme visualization technique in this mortal realm! Such a precious method, deeply imprinted in his memories, was his greatest foundation for standing tall in this world.

He had had enough of his past life—eighteen years of illness and pain, where even a half-hour walk left him exhausted and helpless against death. Enough! Enough! There was only one path to take control of his own destiny, and that was the path of immortality, as Lord Cui had said!

Only by cultivating immortality!

Ji Ning closed his eyes and began to visualize.

A wisp of natural energy slowly entered Ji Ning’s body, drawn into his sea of consciousness, strengthening his soul. Because only the tiniest wisp was absorbed, neither Ji Yichuan nor Yuchi Snow noticed a thing.

A visualization technique that could draw in natural energy?

This was remarkable.

It wasn’t an immortality cultivation technique, nor a divine demon secret art. For an immortality technique, madly devasting vast quantities of natural energy would be normal. But for a mere visualization technique, even absorbing a single wisp was miraculous.

“Whoosh… whoosh…” Wisps of natural energy continuously entered Ji Ning’s infant body.

Each influx also scoured his body. A newborn is at its purest; after birth, it begins to accumulate worldly filth. But Ji Ning had very little filth, and each scouring left him even purer—as pure as at the very moment of his birth!