"Shang Xie!" Wei Yunjian reached out from within the crowd toward the dusty, broken sword standing firmly embedded in the boulder. The sword's surface split open, releasing a dazzling light. It suddenly broke free and shot into the sky, hovering in midair as the might of a top-grade spirit sword radiated from it.
Wei Yunjian reached out toward it. The flowing sword swiftly turned its tip toward him and flew over, stopping only when its hilt rested in his open palm.
The moment he grasped it, an indescribable feeling surged through him. He didn't know why he'd instinctively called out that name, but he felt the vast, gentle sword intent flow from his hand through his body's meridians, completing a full cycle before returning to the sword.
A feeling both long-forgotten and unfamiliar rose from the depths of his heart. He didn't know where it came from, but his hand tightened around the hilt without thinking.
Shang Xie.
This sword was named Shang Xie.
As the thought crossed his mind, he suddenly felt raised marks beneath his palm. He opened his hand and saw that, sure enough, two seal-script characters were carved into the hilt. Looking closely, he recognized them as "Shang Xie."
That sword technique he was using... It seemed so familiar. He felt like he'd seen it before.
"That sword technique of yours..."
"I just did it without thinking. It's nothing special."
"I once saw someone use that set of moves. What is your relationship to him?"
"Huh? I've always lived in the demon realm. This is my first time in the human realm, and I don't know anyone here besides you. I've never even met the person you're talking about. Was he an old friend of yours?"
"Not exactly. We met by chance and traveled together for a while."
"Oh. What happened to that fellow cultivator you met by chance?"
"I never saw him again, and I never heard of him among the immortal sects."
"Then you're impressive. You saw the moves just once and remembered every single one."
That's right. He'd only seen them once. How could he remember every move so clearly?
"His sword technique was good." In the end, that was all he could say.
A guest came from afar and left me a letter. Above, it spoke of longing; below, of a long separation.
[Added March 12, 2025]
Core theme: Hmm...
