Sword Sect Outer Sect

Chapter 202 The Crying Moon (Combined)

Su Li was somewhat wary, but did not do anything else out of line.

He knew the girl's origins; she was the spirit pet of a cultivator from the Dongyuan Sect.

However, he did not know why the monk had sent her here.

He neither broke the formation nor made a move; he simply squatted there and watched, making sure he didn't kill the two men.

"Hmph, once Shaoshan Jun kills that cultivator," Su Li said with a sinister expression, "you're nothing more than a drinker."

The sky over Qinggu was shrouded in dark clouds, and the air was filled with a strong smell of blood.

Fear spread like a plague; some collapsed to the ground, others curled up in fear, and cries of agony rose and fell.

However, they quickly turned their distorted faces to the small, thin figure.

"It's her! It's this jinx and that beast who brought this trouble!"

The shirtless man's eyes were bloodshot, and his hand trembled from gripping the machete too tightly.

His roar was like a spark that burned away the last vestiges of reason in the villagers.

Several young men and peasant women followed closely behind, wielding hoes and sickles, spitting as they spoke many vicious words.

In summary, it all boils down to one thought.

That means killing her.

"Kill her! That demonic crow followed her back!"

Ju Luyi was using her internal energy to heal Liu Xincheng's injuries. Since her cultivation level was already low, she had no energy to resist.

Liu Xincheng roared, "Are you all crazy?!"

However, the villagers ignored Liu Xincheng's words. Despair had spread, and they only wanted to kill this culprit, this jinx, before they died.

The shirtless man reached for Ju Luyi's throat with his left hand, while his right hand wielded a wood-chopping knife that cut through the air.

laugh.

A vibrant green leaf appeared out of nowhere and gently brushed against the neck of the shirtless man.

His movements suddenly froze, the machete clattered to the ground, but his head slowly tilted and finally rolled into the dust.

The gushing blood splattered all over the faces of those around him, and the madman's roar came to an abrupt halt.

Xiao He was still squatting there, her cyan-gold snake eyes casually glancing at the villagers before turning back to stare straight at Su Li.

"..."

A tremor ran through everyone's hearts, and they fell silent.

Isn't she the immortal master's spirit pet?

Why are they so ruthless when they kill?

Is it truly fate that Qinggu is doomed?!
Su Li wasn't thinking about these things. This girl had killed a villager, and if Shao Shanjun questioned him about it later, he would have a headache.

However, before he could dwell on it for long, a young figure slowly walked out from the valley entrance in the distance.

Upon seeing this figure, Su Li's eyes widened in disbelief.

A wave of fear washed over me: "How could it be you?! Where is Lord Shaoshan?!"

Only then did everyone realize that the roars of the tiger demon and the clanging of swords in the valley had stopped for a long time.

The villagers looked at Song Yan, and a frantic hope for survival rose from the bottom of their hearts.

But recalling the girl's cruel methods, he dared not go forward.

"Lord Shaoshan?"

Song Yan casually picked up a demon core: "You mean this?"

So his name was Shaoshan Jun.

Su Li stared blankly at the demon core, his will on the verge of collapse.

"This...how is this possible?!"

He suddenly jumped up: "Shaoshan Jun's demonic power is unparalleled. Even a cultivator at the tenth level of Qi Refining would die under his palm!"

"you you……"

"What trick are you playing?!"

With the tiger demon dead, how could Su Li possibly survive?

Seeing Su Li's seemingly insane appearance, Song Yan didn't bother to say another word to him.

He didn't even want to bother with the mess in this valley.

They walked out of the valley.

"Wait! Let me leave! I am a disciple of the Xuan Yuan Sect! You'd better think twice..."

Upon hearing this, Song Yan stopped in his tracks.

He looked at Xiao He in silence, then casually made a back-and-forth throat-slitting motion.

"..."

He then turned around, pointed a sword aura at the eye of the trapping formation, breaking it, and walked indifferently out of the valley.

"Hee hee hee……"

Xiao He covered her mouth and laughed.

"you……"

Before Su Li's horrified eyes, countless green leaf-shaped flying knives engulfed him.

……

Song Yan left Qinggu wearing the Xuan'e Bailing mask.

Looking up slightly at the sky, those tiny, condensed traces were visible everywhere.

Following the sword path traces seen by Xuan'e Bailing, we slowly walked along the overgrown mountain path.

The road winds its way deep into the mountains.

About half an hour later, he stopped in front of the entrance to a narrow valley that was half-hidden by vines.

The valley was shrouded in mist, and the faint sound of water dripping through the cracks in the rocks could be heard.

Pushing aside the drooping withered vines, a small, desolate valley, no more than ten feet square, suddenly appeared before my eyes.

The four walls are steep as if cut by a knife, the valley floor is covered with gray-white gravel, and a dilapidated house stands alone in the center.

The house had been abandoned for countless years; most of the thatched roof had collapsed, revealing a few rotten, blackened beams.

There was a withered tree in front of the house, and a sword stuck under the tree.

The flying sword was about four feet long, entirely blackish-purple, with a blade as thin as a cicada's wing, and gleamed with a cold, eerie light under the moonlight.

suddenly.

A dark purple sword aura slowly emerged from the sword and condensed at the top of the hilt.

It transformed into the shape of a crow.

It flew up and landed on a withered tree branch, its strange, blood-red eyes fixed on Song Yan.

It was exactly the same as the one he had seen in Qinggu.

"Gah——"

It called out once, but much softer than it had when it was in Qinggu.

Then it disappeared.

"..."

Song Yan did not rush to retrieve the sword, but instead stepped forward and gently pushed open the door to the dilapidated house.

The interior furnishings were simple to the point of solemnity, with a cypress square table in the center and a bed.

The objects on the table were arranged so neatly that they looked almost like sacrificial offerings.

A very ordinary Qiankun bag, and a few ordinary earthenware bowls and plates.

Nothing else.

My gaze shifted to the side, and I saw a stark white skeleton sitting on the bed.

"This senior... actually passed away in a place like this?"

The spiritual energy here is not abundant, making it unsuitable as a cave for cultivation.

Moreover, it is remote and cramped, and not suitable for quiet recuperation.

Song Yan remained silent for a moment, then stepped forward and discovered that there were a few small characters carved on the wooden table.

"Yu Baitao is a mediocre swordsman. What is left in the room is for anyone who comes after him to take."

Do not offer sacrifices.

This senior's name is Bai Tao.

Song Yan had heard that Bai was indeed a common surname in Qinggu.

"So he's also from Keigani..."

Song Yan put away the Qiankun bag in the room, and then used his spiritual power to move the senior's remains out.

He then found a quiet spot outside the house, used his sword energy to dig a grave, and properly buried it.

I casually cut a neat stone tablet and placed it in front of the tomb.

"Since we have been able to see the remains of our predecessors, we can consider it a matter of fate."

Song Yan took out three incense sticks, lit them, placed them in front of the grave, and bowed deeply.

The elder was magnanimous, saying there was no need for a memorial service, but since we had this connection, it is indeed hard to accept that he has left like this.

He stepped towards the withered tree outside the courtyard, where the ancient, dark purple sword lay silently planted.

With a flick of his finger, the ancient sword slowly floated into the air, hovering in front of him. A wisp of sword energy emerged from Song Yan's palm, surging from the hilt towards the tip, removing the dust and moss clinging to the blade.

There was no name engraved on this sword.

The sword energy in his palm surged more and more powerfully, and he used it to refine the sword into his own magical weapon.

As expected, the moment the flying sword was completed, it flashed and entered the Yin-Yang Pearl.

Judging from the previous situation of Ji Linjun, inheriting the memories of the ancient sword cultivator predecessors does not take long.

Without hesitation, Song Yan set up a simple protective array around himself, sat cross-legged, and entered the Yin-Yang Realm with his divine sense.

In the black and white world, the flying sword landed beside the Seed of Sword Dao.

The ink gathered and solidified into the shape of a raven, which landed on the tip of the flying sword.

The crow is so lifelike, its head tilted as if it were surveying this little world.

Upon seeing Song Yan's divine sense materialize, it let out a strange cry: "Gah!"

A crow flapped its wings, scattering feathers as it flew towards Song Yan.

It transformed into a mass of ink and flowed into the space between his brows.

The situation within the Yin-Yang Realm was constantly changing, but contrary to usual, Song Yan did not feel any discomfort this time.

I just felt drowsy and fell asleep.

……

Gah——

Gah——

It's so noisy. What bird is chirping?

It hurts so much. My whole body aches...

My gaze swayed, falling from the sky and crashing into a cluster of branches covered in a light frost.

He struggled with all his might to barely maintain his balance.

Gah——

What kind of bird is making so much noise?! It's so incredibly noisy!
oh?
It was me all along.

I am a crow.

I was injured by some bastard kid with a slingshot and stumbled and flew to this deserted mountain.

This place is so remote, there shouldn't be anyone here. I can rest here for a while and recover from my injuries.

Yeah, once you've healed your injuries, go back and peck out the eyes of those little bastards.

Wait a minute! There are still people here!?

……

On a moonlit winter night, the branches were covered with frost and snow, and the crows, already perched on the branches, swayed slightly.

Startled by the sight of the boy wielding a sword beneath the tree, the crow lost its footing and tumbled down.

"Gah——"

My life is over!

However, the excruciating pain of falling to the ground and being smashed to pieces, which I had imagined, did not come.

Instead, I was enveloped by a warm feeling.

The crow opened its eyes and saw the boy's still-childish face.

"Gah——"

The crow instinctively struggled to its feet, flapping its wings in the boy's arms, its feathers brushing against the boy's cheeks and chin.

"Hey, don't move, don't move."

After struggling for so long, I was indeed exhausted.

The crow was thus led by the boy into a nearby mountain hut, its claws twitching occasionally, demonstrating its indomitable spirit.

Is it going to get stewed?

I've heard that humans eat everything...

To the crow's surprise, the boy took out a small medicine box from inside the house and muttered to himself.

"It's a good thing you landed here with me, otherwise, in this freezing weather, I'm afraid your bird would not have survived."

"Would medicine that heals human wounds work on birds?"

"I think so too."

The wooden house was simple, containing only a bed, a table, and a stove.

The boy started a fire and used warm water to wash the wound on the crow's wing. The bone was broken, so he found thin wooden strips to fix it and tore off a piece of his clothes to bandage it.

The crow stopped struggling and only occasionally let out a low cawing, as if it were enduring pain.

"Well... whether you live or die depends on yourself."

The boy placed it on a straw mat beside the fire, and then sat down at the table to polish the longsword.

The next morning, before dawn, the boy was awakened by a rustling sound.

The crow stood on the edge of the table, preening its feathers with its beak. Its injured wing drooped, but it seemed to be in much better spirits.

Seeing that he was awake, the crow tilted its head to look at him and suddenly cawed.

It was as if she was thanking him.

Time flies like water.

The crow's wounds gradually healed, but it showed no sign of leaving.

When the boy practiced swordsmanship, it would stand on a nearby tree branch to watch; when he meditated, it would quietly perch on his shoulder; occasionally, when he left the valley to exchange for some rice and flour, he would always see crows waiting in front of his hut when he returned.

"You've really started to cling to me."

The boy casually tossed a wild fruit to the crow, which caught it deftly and held it close to its chest, pecking at it.

After finishing eating, it cackled twice and landed on his shoulder.

"My name is Bai Tao." A hint of melancholy flashed in the boy's eyes: "You are my first friend."

One evening at dusk, Bai Tao was practicing swordsmanship on the edge of the cliff, as usual.

The sword's momentum was like a rainbow, stirring up fallen leaves all over the ground. Suddenly, he noticed that the crow was no longer on its usual branch.

He sheathed his sword and looked around, only to see it standing on a protruding rock, swaying left and right with his sword moves, as if imitating it.

Bai Tao was somewhat taken aback. He deliberately slowed down his movements, and the crow indeed followed suit.

"You want to learn swordsmanship too?" Bai Tao looked it up and down. "But how can you learn without hands?"

"Gah——"

The crow cawed in dissatisfaction, flapped its wings, flew to his head, and began pecking at the sword hilt.

It doesn't matter to the crow if it can't learn it.

It would be enough if I could go back and take revenge on those kids.

As winter turned to spring, Bai Tao seemed to have grown accustomed to having a noisy crow by his side.

One summer, the boy was about to leave this place.

"Silly bird, I'm leaving."

Bai Tao said, "You are free."

He shouldered his bag and walked out of the thatched hut, not daring to look back.

The mountain road was winding, and after walking for about half an hour, we suddenly heard the sound of wings flapping behind us.

A crow landed on his shoulder, carrying a small wildflower in its beak.

……

Bai Tao is truly blessed; he has actually caught the eye of an immortal and been given guidance in his cultivation.

Without a doubt, this is thanks to Grandpa Crow.

Grandpa Crow is exceptionally gifted. He listens to the immortals preach and observes swordsmanship training with Bai Tao, and he eats the morning mist and drinks the dew every day. He must have already become an immortal among crows.

Judging from their self-proclaimed titles, they are... sword cultivators?
That old crow is none other than the Crow Sword Immortal.

Bai Tao's sect forged a flying sword for him; it was a dark purple color, almost like a crow's feather.

He gave the sword a rather literary name.

Crying the moon.

Don't know what it means either.

……

From then on, a strange sword cultivator appeared in the cultivation world. He was taciturn and not good at talking.

But there's always a crow perched on my shoulder.

They traveled together to many places, from the misty rain of Jiangnan to the windy sands of the North, with crows always by their side.

Until one day, Bai Tao returned to the mountain gate.

But he discovered that, apart from himself, all his fellow disciples, all the elders and sect leaders, including his master, had disappeared.

They went to a very far place.

However, Bai Tao's cultivation level was still too shallow, so he was allowed to stay here to preserve the sect's meager legacy.

A blink of an eye.

He was all alone again.

(End of this chapter)