The Reticent Blade

Although he had never once called the old monk his Master, Xue Qiming still decided to observe three years of mourning rites.

Following the old monk's final wishes, Xue Qiming cremated his remains, placed the ashes in an urn, and set it before the Buddha statue.

There was already an urn before the Buddha statue that contained the ashes of Master Huide, the former abbot of the Lesser Arhat Temple. Now, the old monk Zhishan joined him beside the Buddha.

Xue Qiming had always thought Xue Yinlong was a fake monk, and after cremating his remains, he became even more convinced. He had heard that true enlightened monks left behind holy relics after cremation that were worth a fortune. However, the old monk left nothing behind but a handful of ashes.

Well, not nothing, Xue Qiming amended, at the very least, he left behind an ugly gourd and the Lesser Arhat Temple that looked even uglier.

Ever since Zhang Dongyun and his gang kicked down the temple gate during their vendetta, no one had bothered to repair it. Back then, Xue Yinlong had said, "There's nothing valuable in this temple anyway. And the things that are truly valuable? Thieves couldn't take them even if they tried. Let it stay broken."

Xue Qiming found some logic in those words, but it only made him more curious. Just what did the old monk think was truly valuable?

His confusion continued until an eccentric man came knocking one day.

It was for Xue Qiming to call the visitor an eccentric man. In truth, the visitor was a young man, who appeared to be around the same age as Xue Qiming.

What made him peculiar was that, despite his strikingly handsome features, he had a head of long, snow-white hair. His eyes were as still as a pool of lifeless water, full with a deep sorrow that sent chills down one's spine.

Xue Qiming had been napping in the back courtyard. Hearing someone call at the door, he rubbed his sleepy eyes and made his way to the entrance, only to find the young man standing at a distance outside the temple gate.

Yawning, Xue Qiming lazily said, "This rundown temple no longer offers incense. If you're here to worship, head to the Golden Buddha Temple west of town instead."

The white-haired youth standing at a distance shook his head, his snowy locks swaying in the breeze.

"I'm not here to worship."

Xue Qiming waved his hand dismissively. "Then be on your way"—he turned around to resume his nap—"there's no food for you here."

"Wait!" the white-haired youth quickly called out. "I'm here to see Senior Sky-supporting Arhat!"

Xue Qiming turned around and sat up, his expression turning guarded—he knew all too well that the old monk had plenty of enemies.

"The old man met the Buddha two years ago." Xue Qiming fixed his gaze on the youth. "What do you want with him?"

The white-haired youth froze for a moment, seemingly unprepared for this answer. Yet, he still responded earnestly, "I... I had come to seek a piece of Deep Sea Profound Iron from the senior..."

"Deep Sea Profound Iron?" Xue Qiming raised a brow. "What kind of thing is that?" Though he asked aloud, his mind was already spinning—Could that be the treasure the old man had hidden from him?

The white-haired youth appeared quite straightforward and was visibly stunned. "You don't know about it?"

Leaning lazily against the doorframe, Xue Qiming scratched his head nonchalantly.

"Tell me more. Maybe I'll remember something."

The white-haired youth, suspecting nothing, began to explain.

"It is a divine object that fell from the heavens decades ago and was obtained by the Sky-supporting Arhat. It is said to be the hardest and heaviest material in existence. I know such a treasure must be incredibly rare, but I have no choice—I must have it. To be honest, I am Baili Gu—"

Before the youth could finish, Xue Qiming had already turned and strode into the front courtyard. Moments later, he emerged carrying that ugly gourd, tossing it onto the ground with a dull thud.

Pointing at the gourd, Xue Qiming looked utterly incredulous.

"You're talking about this thing?"

The white-haired youth's eyes lit up, and he started to step forward to inspect the gourd. But after taking just one step, he suddenly halted, his face showing hesitation.

"Might I trouble you, brother, to step inside first?"

Xue Qiming's eyes widened.

"What kind of weird habit is that? Why do you need me to go inside? Are you trying to snatch my gourd while I'm not looking?"

The white-haired youth hurriedly waved his hands in protest.

"Brother, you've misunderstood! I, Baili Gucheng, have no such intentions. It is simply that my martial training has left me with a peculiar ailment—sword qi constantly surrounds my body, and I fear I may accidentally injure you."

Xue Qiming stroked his chin, scrutinizing the white-haired youth from ten paces away.

"That extreme, huh?"

Baili Gucheng forced a bitter smile.

"Brother, you must believe me—"

Before he could finish speaking, Xue Qiming suddenly sprang forward, closing the distance in an instant.

Baili Gucheng was startled and instinctively stepped back, but then he saw Xue Qiming rubbing his arms in pain, yelping, "Well, damn! You're not lying!"

The moment Xue Qiming stepped within ten paces of Baili Gucheng, he immediately sensed something was off. The once calm air around him suddenly turned violent, transforming into razor-sharp sword qi that sliced toward him.

A sharp sting pricked his arm first, like he had been jabbed by an army of needles. Looking down, he saw multiple slashes on his sleeves, and his exposed skin bore thin, pale scratches. Before he could even react, the stinging sensation spread all over his body—his entire outfit shredded into strips, barely clinging to him.

Panicking, Xue Qiming leaped out of Baili Gucheng's ten-pace range, frantically brushing himself off like a monkey that had just had its tail stepped on.

"What the hell kind of freakish thing is this?!" Xue Qiming cursed.

Baili Gucheng, just as astonished, blurted out, "Brother... are you even human?"

"Pah!" Xue Qiming spat, yelling, "Screw you! You're the one who's not human!"

Baili Gucheng's face showed slight embarrassment as he repeatedly apologized, "My apologies, my apologies..."

Xue Qiming pursed his lips, then his eyes flickered as an idea formed in his mind. "You know martial arts?"

Baili Gucheng replied humbly, "I know a little."

"Fought any real battles to prove it?" Xue Qiming narrowed his eyes.

Baili Gucheng's lips curved into a slight smirk as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Last year at the northern pass, I slew over seventy Northern Qiang warriors. Nothing worth mentioning." Then he turned to look at Xue Qiming and asked, "Why do you ask, brother?"

Xue Qiming instinctively swallowed hard, his gaze shifting uneasily. He waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh, nothing. I was thinking about sparring with you for fun, but since you're injured, forget it."

Are you kidding me? A guy who casually talks about killing seventy people like he's discussing lunch?

Any lingering curiosity Xue Qiming had about testing his own skills instantly vanished. In his eyes, anyone capable of such a feat was already a fearsome figure in the jianghu. He knew he had practiced martial arts for years, but he had never really fought anyone. Without a benchmark, he had no idea how skilled he actually was.

Although he suspected the old monk's martial arts were formidable, he had never seen the man fight seriously. Now, hearing Baili Gucheng talk about slaughtering seventy men as if it were nothing, how could he dare entertain any further thoughts of sparring?

Baili Gucheng, however, suspected nothing. He only saw Xue Qiming's ever-shifting expression at the doorway and wondered if he had said something wrong. Hurriedly, he clasped his hands and said, "Brother, please don't take offense. It was my mistake—I shouldn't have spoken of such things in this sacred temple. About the Deep Sea Profound Iron..."

Snapping back to reality, Xue Qiming noticed Baili Gucheng's anxious look. He said, "I can't give you this gourd. Wait here—I'll be right back." With that, he turned and entered the house once more.

After a short wait, Xue Qiming returned, holding a bundle in his hands. He tossed it onto the ground near Baili Gucheng's feet. "Here. If you can pick it up, it's yours."

Baili Gucheng was overjoyed. He crouched down eagerly and unwrapped the bundle, revealing a dull gray-black chunk of iron, roughly half the size of the gourd.

Xue Qiming continued, "The old man said this was what was left after forging the gourd. I've got no use for it. If you can lift it, it's yours."

Baili Gucheng was taken aback by the generosity.

"I can't... I can't possibly accept this! A treasure like this—I don't dare! I... I only need a small piece. Just enough to forge a single lock would suffice."

"Take it if I say so. I don't need it cluttering up my place," Xue Qiming waved him off impatiently, then smirked mischievously. "Besides, you'll have to lift it first if you want to take it away."

Baili Gucheng smiled wryly.

"Brother, you're testing me..."

Xue Qiming raised a brow.

"I wouldn't call it a test. I, your Granddaddy, simply value honor and righteousness. Just remember—you owe me a favor now. Next time we cross paths in the jianghu, don't be surprised if I come collecting."