Wandering Sword Seller's Life in the Qin Dynasty

"So obvious?" Ji Yihu was taken aback.

Nongyu nodded slightly.

Although the other party looked very much like Ji Wuye, in the eyes of those who truly understood people, the anxiety and dissatisfaction of being overshadowed by his father were almost written on his face, showing no trace of guile.

"I have retrieved the sword," Ji Yihu said, taking the initiative to mention it.

“Very well. This sword is now entrusted to the young general.” Nongyu responded according to Zi Nu’s instructions, though she was not entirely clear about what was going on.

"Let me play another tune for the young general," she said, changing the subject as her fingertips plucked the strings.

The sound of the zither, like the wind, seemed to soothe Ji Yihu's restless emotions.

He thought his anger had subsided.

However, when he entered Nongyu's residence again, he saw that her face was full of sorrow, and her fingertips touched the strings of the zither with a slight, imperceptible hesitation.

Ji Yihu frowned: "What's troubling you?"

Nongyu lowered her eyes and remained silent.

Under his stern questioning, she finally whispered the reason.

It turns out that when Ji Yihu was away, the Grand General had personally visited this place and issued her a stern warning. Perhaps because the "family heirloom" was of extraordinary value, this was merely a warning—if she "overstepped" in the slightest, death awaited her.

Upon hearing his father's name, Ji Yihu's fervent zeal for protecting Nongyu instantly cooled, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head. He didn't demand justice from Nongyu, only whispering a few words of advice to "get some rest," before hurriedly leaving.

Watching his figure disappear at the end of the corridor, Nongyu's eyes narrowed slightly.

"As expected of Ji Wuye's son..."

Living in the general's mansion was like walking on thin ice; Nongyu had already prepared for the worst. However, Ji Yihu did not make a move on her, but only came to listen to her play the zither every day.

Is this really just an obsession with music? No. Nongyu sensed a familiar yet dangerous aura emanating from him, exactly like that of Blood-Clad Marquis Bai Yifei!

The intelligence network of Liusha had revealed that Bai Yifei practiced evil arts, requiring the blood of pure young girls as a catalyst. Although Zilanxuan was a place of pleasure, Nongyu was one of the few women who had maintained her purity. She had once fallen into Bai Yifei's hands, nearly becoming his cultivation material, but managed to escape.

The longer she spent with Ji Yihu, the more familiar she felt with him.

Back in his room, Ji Yihu gripped the longsword named "Frostmourne" once more.

A strange, cool power spread along my arm, bringing an indescribable sense of comfort, as if it could freeze the vexation in my heart.

"What a fine sword..." he murmured in admiration.

The image of my father's harsh interference resurfaced in my mind.

"Father, I am no longer a child." Ji Yihu's eyes hardened with a coldness, like the gleam of a sword. "And you... have grown old!"

The internal force surged in his palm, and the chilling aura suddenly condensed, turning into crystal-clear ice crystals that spun in his palm.

In order to break free from his father's control, he did not hesitate to become the disciple of the Blood-Clad Marquis in the border army under Bai Yifei.

Power was the key he craved.

However, the price of this power is blood—the power is nurtured by the blood of pure women.

The purer and more flawless something is, the stronger the power it contains.

Where can one find the finest "nourishment"? Apart from virginity, nothing surpasses the "white lotus" that proudly blooms in the filthy mud.

So he donned the guise of a playboy and frequented brothels.

Finally, he found it.

Nongyu is that perfect "white lotus".

But he was in no hurry to pick them.

The longer it is nurtured, the more mellow and sweet the blood will become, and the more powerful its potential will be.

She still needs time.

……

Snowcloth Castle, which was once burned down, has been barely restored to its former appearance thanks to Bai Yifei's repairs.

The charred stone walls, like hideous scars, silently tell the story of the past.

Bai Yifei stood before the wall, his white hair like frost, his fingertips brushing against the cold scorch marks.

"The seeds have been sown..." A cold smile curved his lips, his gaze seemingly piercing through the palace walls and the night, landing on the imposing general's mansion in Xinzheng City. "When... will they bear sweet fruit?"

In the past, Ji Wuye rose from a retainer to the position of Grand General, creating a legend in the state of Han. Even though Bai Yifei made great contributions in the war against Baiyue, he still had to be subordinate to him.

How can a true man remain subservient to others for long?

With a new king enthroned in South Korea, the court has taken on a new look.

The position of Grand General... should be given to someone else.

……

Many people are waiting for the moment when the fruit will ripen.

Bai Yifei can be very patient.

After all, he has the secret to maintaining his youthful appearance and is full of vitality; time is not an enemy of him.

The younger Xu Qing, however, was different; he lacked that kind of patience.

After the sword was handed to Ji Yihu and began to have an effect, he couldn't wait to move on to the next step.

Tracing Ji Yihu's movements is not difficult.

As a notorious playboy in Xinzheng City, his daily routine consisted of nothing more than spending time with a group of followers, frequenting various entertainment venues.

On this day, he watched a play in a private room at the theater.

Suddenly, an aged yet exceptionally clear voice pierced through the clamor of gongs and drums and entered his ears.

"Incredible! Incredible! This sword is truly extraordinary!"

Ji Yihu suddenly turned his head and saw an old man with white hair, leaning on a dragon-patterned wooden cane, staring intently at him, or rather, staring intently at the "Frostmourne" hanging at his waist.

His sharp, bright gaze was completely at odds with his aged appearance.

This is a family heirloom of Nongyu.

Ji Yihu kept Nongyu in his mansion, originally waiting for the day the white lotus would bloom, but he unexpectedly received this "surprise".

These past few days, he's carried the sword with him, and the coldness and power emanating from its blade have made him love it so much that he's even starting to understand why his father switched from a knife to a sword, never letting the sword leave his side.

"Old man, do you recognize this sword?" Ji Yihu became interested and leaned forward slightly.

"I dare not claim to know you. I am but a wandering sword appraiser. In my younger days, I received some guidance from Dai Feng Hu Zi, and thus have a rudimentary understanding of the art of sword appraisal." The old man stroked his beard, speaking eloquently, his gaze never leaving Frost's Sorrow. "This sword has a unique shape, its sharpness fully concealed within, its brilliance hidden. Yet its aura is chilling, with the subtle signs of flowing ice, clearly no ordinary object. The strange and powerful force contained within is extraordinary!"

Upon seeing the old man's casual remarks, Ji Yihu's guard immediately rebuked him, "Insolence! This is..."

"Wait!" Ji Yihu raised his hand to interrupt the guard, gesturing for the old man to continue.

The old man's words struck a chord with him.

The old man nodded slightly and continued, "Feng Hu Zi once said that swords have destiny. Every famous sword has a destined master, and only by finding its master can it display its unparalleled sharpness in the mortal world. I observe that your aura flows smoothly, and it is faintly connected to this sword, forming a perfect whole. You must be the destined master of this sword. Congratulations!"

Ji Yihu's lips curled up slightly, but the old man changed the subject: "However, it is no easy task to fully awaken the supreme power within this sword and make it shine."

"Oh? What do you need?" Ji Yihu pressed, his interest piqued upon hearing the word "power."

The old man's voice was low, carrying an ancient and solemn tone: "The ancient divine swords Gan Jiang and Mo Xie are ranked among the top in the sword manual. Their power is unparalleled because when they were forged, the blood and soul of the swordsmith's closest relative was used to consecrate the sword and sharpen it, thus giving it a spiritual quality! The strength of this sword's spirituality is rarely seen in the world. If you want to awaken its full power, perhaps... you also need to use this method!"

Before he finished speaking, the old man stopped, turned around, leaned on his cane, and swiftly blended into the crowd.

Upon hearing the words "blood of one's closest relatives," the guards beside Ji Yihu's expression changed drastically, and cold sweat instantly soaked their backs.

"Chase!" Ji Yihu shouted, and several guards pounced on the direction where the old man had disappeared like wolves.

Inside the private room, the noisy opera seemed to fade away instantly.

Ji Yihu's hand had involuntarily tightened around the Frostmourne at his waist.

A chill ran through him from the cold sword hilt, and the old man's words echoed in his mind like a spell, seeping into his very bones along with the icy cold.

Chapter 124 A pot of fine wine, please drink with Father!

Ji Yihu's guards were quite capable, and they quickly gave chase.

They thought it would be a piece of cake to catch an elderly man, but after chasing after him, they found that he had already disappeared without a trace.

Despite being an old and frail man, his movements were incredibly fast.

At that moment, the old man they had failed to catch was slowly walking down the street.

He sensed a faint presence following him, but remained calm and quietly stepped into a dark alley.

As soon as the figure that had been following them entered the alley, a furious shout was heard.

"Take this from my old man!"

The old man suddenly swung his seemingly ordinary cane.

Although it was a wooden staff, in his hands it was like a heavy hammer or a sharp sword, carrying a sharp gust of wind as it approached the person coming.

The man's expression changed slightly, and he immediately used his lightness skill to try to dodge.

No matter how he moved or changed positions, the cane always followed him closely, locking him in place.

Boom!

A crisp sound rang out, and from this sound, one could tell that the other party had a good start.

Even the best head, after this blow, becomes a blur and then the person loses consciousness.

"Again, someone from Bai Niao?"

Looking at the unconscious figure on the ground, the old man—actually Xu Qing, who had disguised himself as an old man using special techniques—muttered to himself.

Although his disguise skills did not reach the legendary level of the "Ink Jade Qilin"—a level of unparalleled skill and ever-changing abilities—he was still adept at disguising himself for short periods of time.

As long as you don't spend a long time in close proximity to someone, it's hard for them to see through your disguise.

Now that Frostmourne has fallen into Ji Yihu's hands, Xu Qing, as the swordsmith, naturally has an obligation to tell him how to wield the sword.

As for Ji Wuye's superior strength and Ji Yihu's difficulty in succeeding, Xu Qing wouldn't mind adding fuel to the fire if necessary.

The only thing that surprised him was that even after shaking off Ji Yihu's guards, there was still someone who could quietly follow him.