Chapter 48.1

On the mountain opening day, the gates of Xuanyun Sect were bustling with activity, with batches of cultivators passing to and fro. The accident that happened in the medicine hall did not spread outside. After all, evil demons like Xiaos were very common in the cultivation world. Nonetheless, the way the Xiao that attacked Qiu Mingxue appeared too coincidental.

Ji Qingzhou stood on Shen Rongyu’s Burial Snow Sword and looked at the majestic mountain gates of Xuanyun Sect. It was already autumn, and the verdant trees on the two cliffs that formed the mountain gates were dyed red by autumn shades. At first glance, the warm red and yellow highlighted the unique bright colors of autumn.

The only thing that remained unchanged was the cloud surrounding the mountain gates which wrapped the leading sect in the Yunze Region in mystery.

Ji Qingzhou was thinking about magic treasures. She glanced down at the Burial Snow Sword that exuded a special color. It was as clear as a mirror, reflecting the bright rays of the sunlight.

“Xiao Yu-shixiong, if I have a magic treasure, can I use it to fly like Burial Snow?” Ji Qingzhou asked abruptly.

Although the flywheel Yu Sukong gave her was useful, it couldn’t communicate with her, and she needed to infuse magic power time and again whenever it ran out of it.

“Your cultivation base is low, and your magic power is limited. If you travel with a magic treasure, you won’t be able to go far,” Shen Rongyu replied, “But if you want, of course you can. After all, one of the uses of portable magic treasures is flying in place of walking.”

When Ji Qingzhou heard this, she began to look forward to her shopping. The coolest magic treasure she had ever seen in this world was Shen Rongyu’s Burial Snow, so she looked forward to owning a sword herself.

“If possible, can I buy a sword?” Ji Qingzhou asked hesitantly, “Something like Burial Snow.”

“Do you like Burial Snow?” Shen Rongyu raised an eyebrow and asked. His tone reeked of a smile, as if Ji Qingzhou’s statement made him laugh.

— It was the first time he saw someone who actually liked Burial Snow.

“It’s beautiful,” Ji Qingzhou gave a very simple reason.

“Do you know what material it was forged from?” Shen Rongyu suddenly asked.

“No,” Ji Qingzhou replied.

Shen Rongyu chuckled, but he didn’t continue this topic. He was planning to take Ji Qingzhou and find a high-grade magic treasure which could accompany a cultivator forever. However, unlike the middle-grade magic treasures that the disciples could access at this stage, high-grade magic treasures were more special because they only resonated with cultivators with outstanding abilities and character. They couldn’t just pick a random piece for use.

“Magic treasures also choose their owners. You may not necessarily resonate with a sword.” Shen Rongyu gave Ji Qingzhou a precautionary shot in advance. That way, she wouldn’t expect too much, thinking that she could definitely pick a sword.

With Ji Qingzhou’s current condition, she couldn’t resonate with the sword at first glance. Swords were the most direct weapons in the world that could kill people. It was too difficult for her to resonate with such a magic treasure that contained a murderous aura.

“Xiao Yu-shixiong, you mean to say I should pick a magic treasure that is very similar to me?” Ji Qingzhou understood Shen Rongyu’s meaning.

Exactly. Shen Rongyu was similar to Burial Snow. His white clothes were dust-free, ethereal, like a banished immortal. Similarly, Burial Snow was also free from dust, as clear and shiny as a mirror.

“Yes.” Shen Rongyu teased her, “So you should pay attention to those magic treasures that look like wood.”

It took Ji Qingzhou some time to register that Shen Rongyu was comparing her to a piece of wood.

Was she like wood? Ji Qingzhou felt that she was somewhat more interesting than wood. After all, wood couldn’t speak.

In the market outside Xuanyuan Sect, there was only one place that sold high-grade magic treasures, and so Shen Rongyu brought Ji Qingzhou into a blacksmith’s shop.

The calcination furnace in the shop was boiling hot, and the scorching flames licked the red sword body. The bearded blacksmith raised the hammer in his hand and repeatedly pounded a sword.

Seeing someone coming, he didn’t stop his work and just continued hammering down.

Shen Rongyu didn’t say anything and only led Ji Qingzhou to stand aside, waiting for him to finish forging the weapon.

Ji Qingzhou listened to these rhythmic sounds, and her eyes fell on the sword in the blacksmith’s hand. After listening to the tempo of his forging a few times while watching the shape of the sword mold change in his hand, she then mentally calculated the strength and the number of strikes needed to successfully forge the sword.

Calculating these things was almost her instinct, and it could be regarded as her hobby.

However, the blacksmith seemed somewhat exhausted towards the end of the forging, and the frequency of his hammering slowed down — Before, he had failed many times to forge this sword, and this time he himself did not know if he could successfully finish it.

He did not have an overall estimate of the number of forging strokes or the force, and could only hope that the next one would be a success. Otherwise, if it was a failure, he would break the sword outright.

Every forging stroke was a gamble for the blacksmith. To the last minute, he seemed to have lost patience, or perhaps he had failed too many times, so he raised his hand high and amassed enough strength, as if to hammer down with one final heavy strike.