Song Yan first picked up the jade box, and inside, a mass of blood seemed to be slowly flowing.

"What is this thing?"

He hadn’t seen much of the world, and there were many things he didn’t recognize; even treasures placed before him, he wouldn’t know their purpose.

He then took out the scale, red like jade, and held it in his hand.

"Is this the scale of some Demon Beast?"

Xiao He poked her head out from his sleeve, sniffed the scale, and froze.

Song Yan asked, "Xiao He, do you know what this is?"

"I don’t know."

Xiao He came back to herself, "But the Demonic Qi on this thing is very heavy."

Indeed, in the state of observing the void, the Demonic Qi contained within this scale was more than that of the entire Xiao He.

Besides that, there was also a faint wisp of fire-attribute Spiritual Qi.

"..."

Song Yan turned it over and over, unable to discern anything special, so he put it and the jade box into his qiankun bag.

The Restriction was about to shrink, and now was not a good time to study treasures.

His gaze fell upon the sword.

He lowered his palm, and a gentle vortex of Spiritual Qi peeled away the dust and a bit of moss covering the sword’s body.

He gently urged his Spiritual Qi, pulled out the Flying Sword, and held it before him to examine.

The sword was about three feet three inches long, its entire body covered in dark red rust.

"It’s actually a common iron sword?"

Ancient Sword Cultivators didn’t care about the grade of the sword body; Song Yan had always known this, but a common iron Flying Sword seemed a bit too shabby.

According to the autobiography, he used this common iron Flying Sword until the Late Stage of the Foundation Establishment Realm, only replacing it after he achieved a Breakthrough to the Golden Core Realm.

To enter the Dao with a common iron sword, it must have been a memento of his journey into the Dao of the sword, which is why he was reluctant to replace it for so long.

In the middle of the sword’s spine, three ancient characters were engraved.

"Sacrificing to Lord Lin."

The entire Flying Sword, amidst its weathered appearance, exuded a defiant and unrestrained aura.

Lord Lin... is it the Lin from Qilin?

Thinking of this auspicious Divine Beast that seemed to exist only in legends, he secretly shook his head.

How could that be... Song Yan decided to put it away for now and study it after the Sword-Wiping Tournament ended.

"Buzz—"

Unexpectedly, at this moment, the liangyi pearl flew out on its own, emitting brilliant black and white light.

It instantly drew Sacrificing to Lord Lin into itself, and at the same time, Song Yan’s Divine Sense uncontrollably entered the Liangyi Realm.

"..."

Inside the Liangyi Realm, black and white shifted, and Sacrificing to Lord Lin hung above the Dao Seed, as dark ink surged, manifesting a huge Demon Beast’s phantom behind it.

Before Song Yan could react, the ink-like substance suddenly dispersed, then condensed into a speck of light that flew towards him!

A tearing sensation erupted from the depths of his Soul, and then his Divine Sense began to blur.

"This is bad."

He secretly thought to himself.

Nearly two hours had passed since the Sword-Wiping Tournament began.

The boundary Restriction was about to start shrinking.

And he was right at the edge of the Restriction; if he entered a state of contemplation now, he might be directly eliminated!

What a pity.

The liangyi pearl wouldn’t care what he was doing.

The dizzying sensation had already clung to his mind, like countless hands dragging him underwater... "Cough, cough..."

"Ugh..."

His throat was dry.

His head was splitting.

Had he drunk alcohol again yesterday?

He exerted all his strength and finally opened his eyes.

In his vision, this place seemed to be a dark, dilapidated temple, but the light outside was also very dim, so it must have been early dawn.

The weather was a bit cold.

Driven by the instinct to "do something," he staggered to his feet and walked out of the temple.

He stepped over the threshold of the dilapidated temple.

The cold mountain wind flowed into his collar, sending a shiver through his body and clearing the haze from his mind.

"Hiss—"

He slapped his head.

"Drinking ruins everything."

He was clearly here to find an old friend, so why had he started drinking again... My name is Nie Zhao.

I am a Jianghu Swordsman, here to find an old friend who broke an appointment... Recalling the cold winds that swept through the temple last night, making his toes curl.

Drinking some strong liquor to warm himself seemed excusable.

Nie Zhao quickly forgave himself.

By the time he had somewhat dispelled the alcohol, the sun was high in the sky.

"I should hurry to the village and ask around, and find that bastard Duan Tianhai sooner."

They had agreed to a three-year challenge, to decide who was superior at the peak of Mount Taiyue.

He had waited for him for seven days and seven nights.

He went down the mountain and asked around among Duan Tianhai’s relatives and friends, only to learn that he had gone to the appointment.

However, they didn’t know why he hadn’t arrived as promised.

Nie Zhao bid farewell to the Duan family relatives and quickly followed his departure route.

Duan Tianhai, like him, had made a name for himself in the mundane Martial Forest at a young age.

Indeed, people along the way had seen him, but here, the route changed.

Duan Tianhai seemed to have stopped heading straight for Mount Taiyue, instead taking a turn and heading west.

But the west was desolate, with continuous mountain ranges.

If there was anything worth coming for... it was the small fishing village before him.

The riverside fish market was bustling.

Fishermen skillfully spread out reed mats, and mandarin fish and green crabs leaped within them.

Women with bamboo baskets squatted, pointing at fish and bargaining, while children weaved through the crowd, secretly taking a few small crabs from shrimp baskets.

The steelyard tipped up, and copper coins dropped down.

Nie Zhao’s arrival indeed attracted the attention of many.

However, he was thick-skinned and didn’t care.

Seeing several old men chatting at the village entrance, he swaggered up to them: "Grandpas, have you seen a person?"

"He’s probably... this tall..."

"He should be wearing black clothes, and... he has a knife at his waist."

Nie Zhao couldn’t draw.

But to ask Nie Zhao to pay someone to draw a portrait of that scoundrel, and then come look for him, he’d rather die in some forgotten corner.

So he just gestured vaguely.

The old man in the village was originally very enthusiastic, but as soon as he heard Nie Zhao’s gestures, he suddenly became impatient.

"There’s no such person, haven’t seen him."

"You go look elsewhere."

"Today our Pinghu Village is holding a sacrificial ceremony, outsider, hurry and leave!"

The old men, one after another, actually drove Nie Zhao out of the fishing village.

"What kind of ceremony is a small fishing village holding..."

"Sacrificing to what? The City God?"

"Hmph, that temple outside is so dilapidated, who would still protect your safety."

He shrugged, mumbled a few words, and was about to turn and leave, thinking of looking for clues elsewhere.

"They’re not sacrificing to the City God."

"?"

Nie Zhao looked in the direction of the voice; a Fei Qigai (Fat Beggar) was leaning against a tree at the village entrance, counting copper coins in his hand.

"You little beggar... are you from this village too?"

"No way, there’s a big sacrifice in Pinghu Township tonight, and I’m just... hehe, here for a good meal."

Fei Qigai chuckled, patted his belly, and made slurping sounds with his mouth.

As if he had already eaten.

Nie Zhao walked up to him with interest and asked, "You said they’re not sacrificing to the City God... then what is it?"

"Hehe."

Fei Qigai grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Tanjiang Mountain..."

"Lord Lin."