How Many Years Have You Been Dead by the Sword?

I am a sword, a sword that has seen too many bad things. After staying in the sword for thousands of years, no less than a hundred holders died in my hands - some were hacked to death by enemies, some were possessed by madness, and some were stupid enough to use me to chop wood and ended up limping their own legs. I'm used to it. Until that kid named Yun Xiaoxi picked me up. Seven years old, sickly, rejected by his family, unable to live more than three days. Before he died, he held my sword and said with a smile: "Brother, can you live for me? I want to become a swordsman." I agreed without thinking - I won't die anyway. Then I discovered that the human species has a serious bug in its design: it needs to eat. Will be hungry. To sleep. Will be sleepy. My legs don't work properly and I can fall when I walk. I, a majestic sword spirit of ten thousand years, was actually tortured by the body of a seven-year-old child to the point of doubting my life. What's even more outrageous is that the child's illness was not born, but was poisoned. And I was forced to get involved in a bloody storm in the world of immortality. ——Well, let's make peace with it as it comes. Look how I, a ten-thousand-year-old monster, can turn this world of immortality upside down with the wisdom of a sword.