After carefully inspecting Gu Minglang’s sword, Liu Baijian lifted his head to look at Gu Minglang standing before him. Seeing Liu Baijian’s gaze, Gu Minglang’s handsome, stern face flashed with a hint of tension. His voice heavy, he asked, ”How is it?”

Seeing his enemy-facing, anxious expression, Liu Baijian actually smiled. He reassured him, “There’s no need to be so tense. Trust me, leave everything to me.”

“Don’t let your sword fall before you do,” Liu Baijian said. “The sword master and the bonded sword are connected in spirit. Your emotions will be transmitted to the sword.”

Hearing this, Gu Minglang forced himself to relax. He looked at the youth before him—clearly much younger, yet unexpectedly dependable in this moment. The boy’s words seemed to possess a soothing power, capable of calming even the most agitated soul. “You’re right,” Gu Minglang acknowledged, his gaze fixed on Liu Baijian. “I was too tense.”

“Good to know,” Liu Baijian replied, then turned to him. “Summon this sword’s spirit.”

Gu Minglang didn’t question how Liu knew the sword possessed a spirit—asking would have been humiliating. Even as an outsider to the Dao, he understood the Liu family’s extraordinary standing in the realm of Artifact Dao. As the successor to the Zhenjun Yanhuo, this youth naturally possessed remarkable qualities.

By now, Gu Minglang had placed his trust in Liu Baijian. Hearing his words, he summoned the sword spirit without hesitation. “Chiyang.”

A ripple of spiritual energy rippled through the air. A youth appeared out of thin air, clad in a crimson sword robe. His features were sharp and handsome, his gaze piercing.

“Sword Master.”

The spirit of the Chiyang Sword addressed Gu Minglang before standing silently beside him, its gaze calmly fixed on Liu Baijian ahead.

Liu Baijian’s eyes scanned the newly manifested Chiyang Sword Spirit, settling on its brow. There, dark mist coalesced into a mark resembling a black mole. He thought to himself: So it is.

Gu Minglang, who had been watching his expression, noticed the change and hurriedly asked, “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

Liu Baijian did not answer his question but instead inquired, “How was the Chiyang Sword damaged?”

“…”

Gu Minglang’s expression darkened instantly. He pressed his lips together for a long moment before his voice grew hoarse. “During my battle with the White Bone Demon Lord, the Chiyang shielded me. It took the Demon Lord’s magic spear strike head-on with its own spirit form.”

His tone was heavy with regret as he spoke.

The Chiyang Sword Spirit, who had stood beside him since appearing earlier, responded, “This is what the sword should do. A sword must protect its master.”

Gu Minglang fixed his gaze upon it, turbulent emotions churning in his eyes. His lips pressed tightly together. After a long pause, he said, “No. I don’t need your protection.”

“You are my sword. Fighting fiercely against enemies is your duty,” Gu Minglang declared in a deep, resolute voice. “If I am wounded, it is my own incompetence.”

Chiyang watched him, silent.

He wasn’t skilled at arguing with his sword master, but inwardly, he disagreed. Even dogs guard their food—how much more so a sword spirit?

#ProtectYourOwnSwordMaster#

Liu Baijian glanced at the disapproving Chiyang Sword Spirit, then at Gu Minglang, whose expression was unusually heavy. He blinked.

“I understand the general situation,” Liu Baijian said. Then, turning to Gu Minglang, “Describe that demon spear of the White Bone Demon Lord to me in detail.”

Gu Minglang’s expression darkened at Liu Baijian’s question. After a long pause, he replied, “It’s a demon spear saturated with Demonic Energy and bloodlust—forged by the White Bone Demon Lord using an entire city as its sacrifice…”

“I see,” Liu Baijian said after hearing Gu Minglang’s explanation. “That makes sense.”

“The Chiyang Sword’s damage lies in its spirit, not its blade,” Liu Baijian stated.

Hearing this, both Gu Minglang and the Chiyang Sword Spirit turned their gaze toward him.

“What do you mean?” Gu Minglang asked in a deep voice.

Liu Baijian explained, “The scars on the Chiyang Sword originate from the wounds suffered by its spirit.”

“But I feel no injury. I have no wounds on my body and feel no discomfort,” the Chiyang Sword Spirit interrupted.

At this, Liu Baijian rolled his eyes and retorted impatiently, “Of course not! You’re merely a formless sword spirit right now—nothing but a Spirit Body.”

He emphasized the latter part: You don’t even have a damn body, so how could you possibly have wounds?!

“Even as a spirit body, you can still be wounded,” Liu Baijian explained to Gu Minglang and the Chiyang Sword Spirit. “Ordinary weapons cannot harm a spirit body, but certain specialized weapons are exceptions. Take the demon spear that injured you—the White Bone Demon Lord forged it using the lives of an entire city’s inhabitants. That spear grew stronger by absorbing the malevolence and Demonic Energy from countless victims.”

“The souls and resentment of those slain coalesced upon the spear, cursing it and granting it the power to slay Spirit Bodies,” Liu Baijian continued.

Gu Minglang immediately grasped the crux of the matter, furrowing his brow. “A curse?”

“Yes, a curse. The concentrated resentment of those slain by the demonic spear manifests as a curse that relentlessly targets the life and soul of its wielder, day and night. This is the curse’s true power. Since it acts upon the soul, it also grants the spear the ability to slay Spirit Bodies,” explained Liu Baijian.

It must be said that the ability to slay and inflict damage upon the Spirit Body is exceedingly rare and precious. Possessing such a special attribute typically requires at least artifact-level power. That demonic spear had gained this unique power through cunning, or rather, through demonic methods of forging. The spear itself was not an artifact, yet it had acquired this power through a demonic approach that harmed the enemy a thousandfold while inflicting eight hundredfold damage upon itself.

“You really are incredibly lucky!” Liu Baijian remarked to Gu Minglang before him. “Had the Chiyang Sword Spirit not blocked that strike for you, you’d likely be in grave danger now.”

What cultivators dread most is damage to their divine sense—and typically, their divine sense is the hardest part of their being to injure, being a fragment of their soul. That demonic spear struck directly at the soul. Had Gu Minglang taken that blow, he’d likely be a fool by now.

Gu Minglang’s expression darkened further at these words. He’d rather the injury had been his own.

“By the way, did that White Bone Demon Lord you fought die?” Liu Baijian inquired.

“…Not yet. I let him escape.” Gu Minglang’s expression darkened further, his tone growing even more despondent.

The Chiyang Sword Spirit standing beside him shot a glance toward Liu Baijian, as if silently asking: Why do you keep rubbing salt in his wounds?

How is this my fault?

Catching the Chiyang Sword Spirit’s glance, Liu Baijian innocently blinked at him. “I was just asking the obvious.” “

What about that demon spear?” Liu Baijian pressed immediately. “It doesn’t matter if he escaped, but that spear must be destroyed.”

“…” Gu Minglang.

At those words, Gu Minglang’s face instantly darkened to the color of a sooty pot bottom.

Seeing his expression, Liu Baijian instantly understood. “That’s terrible! That demon spear is powerful enough to unleash a bloody storm across the cultivation world.”

With each word, Gu Minglang’s aura grew increasingly gloomy.

The Chiyang Sword Spirit beside him shot him a fierce glare. I told you not to provoke him!

Liu Baijian looked utterly innocent. I’m just telling the truth!

“I will destroy it.”

After a long pause, Gu Minglang said in a low voice, “I will destroy that demonic spear. But right now, the urgent task is to repair my Crimson Sun’s Sword Spirit.”

Hearing this, Liu Baijian’s lips curved into a faint smile. He turned to the Chiyang Sword Spirit and raised an eyebrow. See? Your sword master isn’t so fragile after all. Look how he’s perked up!

Chiyang Sword Spirit, “…”

That brat’s expression is just asking to be punched!

“The Chiyang Sword itself remains undamaged. The scars appear on the blade because the sword spirit was injured,” Liu Baijian explained to Gu Minglang and the Chiyang Sword Spirit.

Since the sword spirit lacks a physical form, its injuries manifest on the blade itself—making these wounds the most difficult to heal.

“Moreover, the demonic spear that wounded the Chiyang Sword Spirit is deeply imbued with Demonic Energy. That Demonic Energy is gradually eroding the spirit. If we don’t purge it swiftly, once it penetrates too deeply, it will be beyond saving. Let me calculate… roughly ten days. After ten days, the Chiyang Sword Spirit will be completely corrupted by Demonic Energy and transform into a demon sword. By then, the physical blade itself will shatter into pieces, unable to resist the Demonic Energy corruption.

At this moment, Liu Baijian finally understood why Zhenjun Qingshui had been powerless to repair the Chiyang Sword and had suggested Gu Minglang seek him out. Removing the Demonic Energy from a sword spirit was the Liu family’s specialty—a secret they never shared with outsiders.

“…”

Gu Minglang’s expression immediately turned tense upon hearing this. “Ten days? Can you repair it within ten days?”

“Hmm… It’s a bit difficult,” Liu Baijian replied.

Hearing this, Gu Minglang’s face instantly paled, all color draining from his cheeks.

Observing his expression, Liu Baijian continued slowly, “Though the damage lies within the sword spirit, repairing it requires working on the blade itself. One crucial material needed to mend the Chiyang Sword spirit is still missing.”

“What is it!?”

Gu Minglang snapped his head up, his gaze fixed on Liu Baijian as he demanded in a low voice.

“A thousand-year-old bodhi wood,” Liu Baijian stated.

Without hesitation, Gu Minglang declared, “I’ll go find it immediately!”

Liu Baijian looked at him and nodded in agreement. “You must hurry. You must return within ten days. Any delay will be too late.”

Gu Minglang responded solemnly, “Understood! I will return within ten days.”

As he spoke, he reached forward to pick up the Chiyang Sword resting on the table. Liu Baijian watched his movement and immediately stopped him, saying, “No, you cannot take the Chiyang Sword with you!”

Hearing this, Gu Minglang instantly lifted his head, his gaze meeting Liu Baijian’s. Facing his stare, Liu Baijian explained, “The Chiyang Sword must remain here. To delay the Demonic Energy’s erosion of it, I must perform daily ritual refinements.”

Hearing this, Gu Minglang withdrew his hand, abandoning the thought of taking the sword with him.

He turned to face the Chiyang Sword Spirit before him and said in a solemn tone, “Remain here for now and wait for my return.”

He paused briefly, then assured the spirit with steady, resolute words, “I will return.”

The Chiyang Sword Spirit observed the resolute, stern expression on his face. After a moment of silence, it finally replied, “Very well.”

With that, Gu Minglang gave him a deep, lingering look before turning and striding away.

After he departed.

“Did you just want to tell him that even if I don’t make it back in time to save you, he shouldn’t feel sad or guilty?”

Hearing this, the Chiyang Sword Spirit turned to face Liu Baijian, who sat behind him, observing him with keen interest.

Meeting his gaze, the Sword Spirit frowned and replied in a low voice, “None of your concern.”

“Indeed, it’s none of my concern,” Liu Baijian said with a smile. “But since you don’t want to worry the Sword Master, then protect yourself well. Protecting yourself is also protecting others.”

“…” The Chiyang Sword Spirit fell silent.

Observing his expression, Liu Baijian continued his sharp-tongued remarks. “What if Gu Minglang doesn’t return within ten days? What if he comes back to find you dead? Would he cry? Would he break down? Would he…”

Suddenly, a sword qi shot toward Liu Baijian, slicing through a lock of hair at his right ear.

Liu Baijian blinked, glancing at the icy-eyed Chiyang Sword Spirit before wisely shutting up. Alright, he wasn’t one to mess with.