Chapter 3

Wenren Sheng noticed that He Mu kept staring at his little wooden sword, so he tentatively asked, “Do you like it?”

He Mu casually hummed in response.

Wenren Sheng immediately grew delighted. He generously patted his chest and said, “Then this one’s for you!”

He Mu did not really want the little wooden sword, but he still picked it up and fiddled with it in his hand for a bit.

The kid looked to be only around ten years old. If converted to snow wolf demon years, he was probably only about five—still a very childish age.

After his ascension, He Mu had guarded the Emotionless Stele in the Heavenly Court for ten years, and a century had already passed in the mortal world. In terms of seniority, he could even be Wenren Sheng’s ancestor.

Kids were such a hassle just thinking about it.

Although he had been forced to descend to the lower realm for cultivation due to insufficient merit, he was not kind enough to take in this poor little thing just to do good deeds.

He sighed and rubbed his fingertip over the wooden sword, slowly grinding across the crude, uneven nicks. In his mind, he seemed to envision the scene of Wenren Sheng making this little wooden sword.

The workmanship on the wooden sword was rough, but it was clear a lot of care had gone into it. It was also well-protected, completely free of any dust.

And upon closer inspection, that line of small characters was actually quite cute.

“World’s… Number One Divine Sword.”

He Mu chuckled lightly.

Not bad ambitions, but unfortunately, the spiritual power in Wenren Sheng’s body was so faint it was almost undetectable. He was most likely fated to have no connection to the immortal path.

Speaking of which… how long had this kid been bullied by Chen Lian?

Should he take this opportunity to give the lower realm’s sect a little warning? It could serve as a kickoff for this cultivation stint…

Meanwhile, Wenren Sheng finally dug out a piece of dingy, tattered cloth. He picked it up, shook it out, and strained on tiptoe to show it to He Mu.

“This,” he said with effort, “I made it myself.”

He Mu pulled back his thoughts and looked up at the cloth.

It was patched with several pieces of mismatched colors, the stitches uneven and trailing threads everywhere.

After staring at it for a while, he realized it was a cloak.

“I made it following the style from the storybooks, but it’s not completely finished yet. If I save up a bit more money—”

Halfway through his words, Wenren Sheng suddenly paused, his gaze shifting to the cloak behind He Mu.

A beautiful metal clasp fastened at the neck, the fabric a cinnabar red like blood. The way it had billowed in the north wind was still fresh in his mind.

So cool!

Wenren Sheng’s eyes lit up even more. He took a breath and continued from where he left off. “As long as I save up a bit more money, I can make it just like your cloak.”

He Mu was not blind; he could see the vast difference between the two cloaks.

But he did not call him out on it. Instead, he stared at Wenren Sheng with a half-smile.

“So, you’re planning to give this to me?”

“Give…”

Wenren Sheng murmured the word in repetition.

But then again.

Wenren Sheng knew his own cloak could not compare to He Mu’s impressive one, but he cherished it greatly and always kept it close like a treasure.

He had only wanted to show it to He Mu—how could he actually want it?

Wenren Sheng balled up the cloak and hid it behind his back, the words “reluctant to part” written plainly across his face.

“O-Okay, this one’s for you too…”

Even as he said it, he kept trying to hide it.

Seeing him like this only made He Mu want to tease him more. He held out his hand as if demanding the cloak.

“Thanks, hand it over.”

Wenren Sheng had not expected this guy to actually want his tattered cloak. He jumped in fright and retreated several steps.

“I get it, I’ll give it to you!”

“Mm, hand it over.”

“Wait, let me tidy it up first, then I’ll give it to you.”

Wenren Sheng hastily made an excuse, then turned his back to He Mu and carefully lowered his head to look at the tattered cloth in his arms.

Was he really going to give it to him?

Wenren Sheng was extremely reluctant.

This mountain god was so weird. He already had a cloak—why did he want his?

He grumbled inwardly while his hands kept rubbing and kneading the cloak, as if waiting for He Mu to change his mind.

But He Mu refused to speak, his outstretched hand remaining still, looking exactly like a bandit robbing a little beggar.

Wenren Sheng had no idea what he was thinking!

He pouted, then finally mumbled, “Then… if I give you this, can you promise me one thing?”

He Mu withdrew his hand and spun the wooden sword between his fingers.

“Tell me what it is, and I’ll consider it.”

Wenren Sheng took a deep breath upon hearing this.

He had only one dream: to have a real family.

He had thought that if He Mu was unwilling to become family with him, he would just pitifully keep begging until he agreed, leaving himself no way out.

He carefully chose his words and slowly said, “I have no family. I live alone on the snow mountain, and I heard there are lots of demons here…”

He Mu deliberately teased him. “So, you want to go down the mountain?”

“Yes, I want to go down the mountain—ah? No, no, that’s not it. I don’t want to go down the mountain. I want to… with you…”

“Alright, I know,” He Mu cut him off before he could continue. He stood up and effortlessly scooped Wenren Sheng into his arms by the waist. “Let’s go. I’ll take you down.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wenren Sheng felt his feet leave the ground. In the next moment, he was dangling from the crook of He Mu’s arm.

Wenren Sheng: “…”

“Wait, I didn’t say…!”

He immediately flailed his arms and legs wildly, shouting while trying to wriggle free from He Mu’s embrace.

But He Mu ignored him completely. He crooked a finger, and the unconscious Chen Lian on the ground was lifted into the air from a distance.

“Let’s go.”

With that single word, before Wenren Sheng could react, the scene before them changed abruptly. The vast, endless snowfield instantly became a bustling street market filled with carriages and vendors.

The howling north wind that had been roaring in his ears moments ago was suddenly subdued as if sealed by a magical artifact, replaced by a gentle night breeze that softly brushed the few stray locks of hair on Wenren Sheng’s forehead.

He stared blankly ahead.

Vendors and laborers outside the city gates crossed his field of vision, slowly treading the official road, their cart wheels leaving faint ruts.

Looking up, the plaque reading “Xiang City” hung high on the city walls.

He had actually come down the mountain!

And in just an instant!

Wenren Sheng thought this instant body ability was incredibly cool, but he anxiously kept kicking and waving his hands, hurriedly explaining, “I didn’t want to come down the mountain! I don’t want to leave Fragrant Ze Mountain!”

He Mu ignored him and asked in return, “You’re called Wenren Sheng, right?”

Wenren Sheng clung to He Mu’s arm and hummed in affirmation.

“You have no family,” He Mu said casually as he tossed Chen Lian to the ground. “Then who gave you your name?”

“Mm… when I was little, I lived with the rabbits,” Wenren Sheng answered honestly. “It was the clan leader there who gave me this name.”

He Mu let out an “oh” and suddenly reached to the back collar of Wenren Sheng’s clothes, touching the center of his shoulder blade.

Wenren Sheng immediately shivered from the chill.

“Cold,” he said pitifully.

Why bully him all of a sudden? He had only said the wrong thing once.

But He Mu offered no explanation. He set Wenren Sheng down on the ground and said nothing more.

Wenren Sheng could not fathom the mountain god’s thoughts. He only knew his plan to find a family had failed spectacularly.

He gloomily kicked at the pebbles on the ground and glanced at Chen Lian, who had been discarded nearby like a filthy rag.

It was all this sword cultivator’s fault, rotten to the core!

He really wanted to sic the little dog on him!

Wenren Sheng fumed inwardly.

Chen Lian’s injuries were not light, but He Mu had been ruthless, slamming him awake.

The newly conscious Chen Lian struggled to his feet, spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground, and cursed while clutching his bruised head.

“Stray dog, what bad luck…” he muttered darkly.

After spitting that out, he looked up and saw Wenren Sheng not far away, along with the cold-faced mountain god beside him.

“No way, is this still not over…”

Chen Lian clicked his tongue and scrambled up in a pathetic state, kneeling before the two.

Whatever. With so many people around, he would beg for mercy first.

With that thought, Chen Lian immediately put on a fawning attitude and shouted loudly, “Thank you, Mountain God, for letting me descend the mountain. This poor Daoist vows to turn over a new leaf and never bully the weak again!”

Wenren Sheng tugged at He Mu’s clothes and hid behind him, eyeing Chen Lian warily.

Although he had said to let Chen Lian go, he still hoped this guy would disappear from his sight forever.

He Mu crossed his arms casually and said, “Although Wenren Sheng let you off, I’m still feeling a bit displeased. Tell me your sect. I want to have a chat with your master.”

“Your… sect?”

Chen Lian lifted his bloodstained face, looking dazed.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Mountain God, you…”

“I don’t have much time from the Heavenly Court,” He Mu interrupted with a raised hand, “so neither do you.”

With that, he glanced indifferently at Chen Lian.

That single glance made Chen Lian’s scalp tingle. Recalling the agony of his sea of consciousness shattering earlier, he tensed up completely and kowtowed frantically while blurting out:

“Okay, okay, okay! I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you!

“I’m from… Xiang City Return to One Sword Sect, under Elder Wu Di—”

Bang!

As the final word fell, the environment around the three changed once more.

First time was novel, second time familiar—Wenren Sheng felt no discomfort this time. He even felt a hidden thrill.

This was the mountain god’s power!

Just like in the storybooks, with the ability to shrink the ground a thousand miles in one step—so cool!

He would definitely learn this move in the future and roam the jianghu with the Endless Void Profound Firmament Calamity-Cleaving World-Supreme Divine Sword.

Oh wait, he had already given that sword to the mountain god, so he would just make an Endless Void Profound Firmament Calamity-Cleaving World’s Number Two Divine Sword.

“Is this the place?”

Before he could finish reveling, He Mu’s voice pulled Wenren Sheng back to reality. He began to take in the new surroundings.

He could tell they were still within Xiang City; the street market looked just like what he remembered.

Looking up, a plaque entered his view.

“Return… to One.”

He murmured it once.

Return to One Sword Sect.

It was midday, and the sect gates stood wide open.

Return to One Sword Sect?

For some reason, seeing that name made Wenren Sheng’s heart inexplicably panic.

He lowered his head slightly and gazed past the Evil-Suppressing Stone Statue toward the sect’s training grounds.

It was much like any ordinary sect’s grounds: a circular martial practice field paved with bluestone slabs, with a central arena where a few chatting cultivators stood, apparently on break.

Everything felt both strange and familiar.

Return to One Sword Sect… why did it sound so familiar?

In a daze, long-buried memories surged back like a tide, mercilessly flooding his mind.

Wenren Sheng’s heart skipped a beat, his breathing growing rapid.

He retreated a few steps, fully hiding behind He Mu, his grip on He Mu’s clothes trembling slightly.

He remembered now.

He had been here before!