Chapter 22: The Origins of Dragon-Sparrow

One hour later.

Inside the ruined temple, Elder Wu wore a satisfied, sly smile.

"Young Master, this matter has finally come to a close."

Pei Su gazed at Zhao Lan, who had fallen completely unconscious with blood seeping from all seven orifices, and said nothing, his dark eyes sinking into thought.

Within the soul-searching array, every memory of Zhao Lan's life had surfaced — his childhood, his youth, and the memory from not long ago of Xiao Lin entrusting the blade to him on the verge of death.

Xiao Lin had spoken at length: his origins, how he had risen step by step to become commander of the Imperial Forest Army, how he had escorted Dragon-Sparrow north, how he had faked his death and concealed himself for twenty years...

In the end, Xiao Lin breathed his last, and following his final instructions, Zhao Lan set the thatched hut ablaze, burning Xiao Lin's body to ash so that the poison would not spread.

Which meant that right up until the very end, Xiao Lin had never mentioned a second drop of His Majesty's blood.

"It seems the drop of the Son of Heaven's blood on the captured court official is the only one."

Elder Wu let out a low chuckle.

"According to Deputy Commander Xiao's own words, the moment he laid eyes on the Son of Heaven's severed head, he was scared out of his wits and wanted nothing more than to flee at once... Young Master?"

Elder Wu turned his head and found Pei Su with brows tightly knitted, a dark gleam flickering in his eyes. Pei Su raised his gaze and spoke.

"It's nothing. Merely a conjecture. Let us set it aside for now."

Elder Wu furrowed his brow. A conjecture? Set aside for now...?

"This Zhao Lan truly has remarkable luck..."

Pei Su walked to Zhao Lan's side and examined his injuries.

Under a soul-search, the lighter outcome was a wounded soul; the heavier, complete idiocy. Yet this Zhao Lan had shown genuine strength of will — the damage was not severe.

Had he never crossed paths with Pei Su, given his natural talent with the blade, the tutelage of the Imperial Forest Army commander, and the faint thread of fortune that clung to him, he might well have carved out a name for himself.

"This young man survived one of the Young Master's sword strikes — though Dragon-Sparrow played its part, he still surpasses ninety-nine percent of the young blade artists in the Imperial Capital."

"Contact the clan's hidden agents in the Bingzhou region. Have Zhao Lan taken in and forged into a death warrior. His codename shall be..." Pei Su paused, then said: "Ghost Blade."

Elder Wu nodded and produced a dark black sound-transmission token, stepping aside to murmur into it.

Pei Su crouched down and removed the black-and-white token from Zhao Lan's waist. It gleamed with a cold light in the dim temple.

"A Northern Command Token! Zhao Lan's birth father might well be a figure of great importance..."

Banxia smiled at the corner of her lips, examining the token alongside Pei Su.

After the soul-search, both of them knew: Zhao Lan's birth mother had been a songstress from a High-class Brothel in Yuzhou, while his birth father had vanished without a trace, leaving only this token behind for his mother.

Pei Su curved his lips.

"He might be Chen Mang's illegitimate son."

Banxia immediately burst out laughing.

"If that's really the case, King Chen would be overjoyed. Zhao Lan may be unremarkable, but he's still better than that dissolute, pleasure-seeking heir of King Chen's..."

Pei Su smiled faintly and did not reply, pocketing the token.

They were only joking. What manner of man was King Chen? Rumor had it he was deeply devoted to his consort — how could he have an illegitimate son wandering the world? It was most likely the romantic debt of some northern general.

But what did it matter? The Pei Clan had never feared retaliation for anything they did.

Only then did Pei Su turn his gaze to the ancient blade standing upright on the ground.

"The divine blade, Dragon-Sparrow!"

Pei Su stepped forward, gripped it in his hand, held the blade level, and began to examine it carefully.

Banxia's eyes also shone with curiosity as she studied Dragon-Sparrow.

"Worthy of being called the world's divine blade, passed down for a thousand years — that sharpness is truly astonishing. Even in Zhao Lan's hands, it let him survive one of the Young Lord's sword strikes." Banxia sighed with genuine admiration. "Truly extraordinary!"

Pei Su studied it for a moment, then let out a faint sigh.

"A dead blade."

"What?"

"What a pity. Could it be that Dragon-Sparrow had already lost its sparrow-soul by the time the court obtained it?"

Banxia finally understood what Pei Su meant.

The reason the divine blade Dragon-Sparrow bore its name was that within the blade dwelt the essence-souls of a dragon and a sparrow. The dragon-soul had long since vanished — indeed, not even a single remnant thread of dragon-soul could be found anywhere in the mortal world. But the reason Dragon-Sparrow was considered the supreme treasure among blades was that the slightly lesser sparrow-soul still resided within the blade, and when wielded, it carried the might of a divine bird.

"When the consort of King Chen left the blade in the capital all those years ago, the entire court bore witness. How could the sparrow-soul have disappeared?"

Pei Su recalled the records in his clan's archives and fell into quiet contemplation.

The divine blade Dragon-Sparrow was famous throughout the world for having been stolen, but few knew that this blade had never originally belonged to the court — and even before it was stolen, it had been in the court's possession for no more than three years.

It had originally been the treasured guardian blade of the jianghu sect Moon-Cleaving Valley. Decades ago, the sect was annihilated in the infamous "Blood Chrysanthemum Corpse-Wrapping Case" that had shaken the entire jianghu. The valley master's youngest daughter had escaped with the blade.

That young woman later came to know Chen Mang by a twist of fate, before he had achieved his great ambitions — and in time, she became the consort of King Chen.

Twenty-three years ago, certain scheming individuals within the court somehow learned that the consort of King Chen possessed a supreme treasure of the world. Using old grievances between the court and the jianghu as a pretext, they lured the consort to the capital and coerced her into surrendering the blade.

At the time, in the training ground outside the Hall of Heavenly Worship, all the great noble clans of the Imperial Capital were present, civil and military officials gathered in full force — all of them leveling verbal attacks at a slender woman in white, using the weight of their numbers to pressure her.

Cold sneers, mocking laughs, spectators, those shooting arrows from the shadows...

The consort of King Chen, clad in a single white robe, bearing the heavy ancient blade on her back, faced the entire nobility of the Imperial Capital with an expression of utter calm — her bearing like snow that had lain undisturbed for ten thousand years.

She made a wager: if anyone at the Heavenly Palace realm could defeat her, she would leave the blade and depart.

So Xiao Lin, deputy commander of the Imperial Forest Army, took the field first — only to be defeated in ten moves, to everyone's astonishment.

Then came Right Capital Guard General Liu Wan, Pacification Commander Wang Yi, Tiger-Might Border General Xun Ji...

All were first-rate commanders of the court, yet one by one they fell at the hands of this woman who appeared too delicate to withstand a gust of wind. The court's dignity was utterly shattered, and every onlooker sighed in disbelief.

In the end, it was the young lord of the Pei Clan — then serving as a Dragon-Cavalry Martial Officer, his name not yet widely known — Pei Jun, who stepped forward.

After a hundred exchanges, he pressed a single finger to the consort's abdomen. She coughed blood and was sent flying, gravely wounded, and left the blade behind as she departed.

It was only afterward that the court learned the consort of King Chen had been with child at the time. Word had it that she returned north and gave birth to a son less than a year later, then succumbed to her injuries and passed away.

No one ever knew whether the consort's death was connected to that single strike of Pei Jun's finger.

Because the matter was indeed somewhat unspeakable, the court quietly suppressed the information. The world knew of Dragon-Sparrow, but not of Dragon-Sparrow's origins.

"It seems the consort must have used some method to strip Dragon-Sparrow of its sparrow-soul before she ever entered the capital."

In the dim, ruined temple, the ancient blade flickered with a weathered, cold light.

Though the sparrow-soul was gone, Dragon-Sparrow still surpassed ninety-nine-point-nine percent of all famous blades in the world on the strength of its material and sharpness alone.

Pei Su let out a cold snort.

"Hmph. Without its sparrow-soul, it's still inferior to my Phoenix Disdain!"

And so the divine blade coveted by blade artists across the world was casually tossed by Pei Su to Banxia.