The Birth of Sword God-Chapter 152 - 142: The Madman of the Ninth Realm
Chu Huaixu heard this and looked at Han Shuangjiang, who was frowning slightly. He smiled and said:
"I’m just zoning out. You don’t actually think I’m staring at you, do you?"
Ha, self-absorbed girl!
Alright, but you can’t really be called plain-looking either...
Fine, fine, I’ll admit—you’re exactly my type.
Big Ice Cube couldn’t be bothered to respond, just lowered her head and kept drinking.
Seeing her cup empty, Chu Huaixu poured her another.
"Boom—!" Suddenly, somewhere, fireworks burst into the sky.
Every holiday, the Daoist Sect was filled with excitement. Odds were, even these fireworks were set off officially to liven things up for everyone.
All in all, Chu Huaixu figured the Daoist Sect’s mortal energy was pretty dense—more humanity than immortality here.
With that, it made the high-ups seem a little less lofty and mysterious.
The girl across from him immediately turned to gaze at the dazzling fireworks above. Her eyes, still a little misty from the wine, suddenly became much brighter.
At that moment, she seemed so vivid and alive. It was clearly nighttime, but illuminated by fireworks, she looked radiant.
Clearly, these fireworks really must’ve been organized by the Daoist Sect.
Because they were simply too spectacular.
But that made sense, too. It was East Continent’s grand tournament, Mid-Autumn Festival, and with so many guests in the Sect, a big fireworks show was only fitting.
"Boom—!"
The display seemed to reach its climax now.
Brilliant fireworks of all colors filled the night sky!
Among them, one was especially enormous.
"Chu Huaixu, look!"
Han Shuangjiang, tipsy, was clearly more lively than usual.
But at most, she’d gone from being cool and aloof to just an ordinary young woman.
She turned her head, only to find he was still smiling at her—not even bothering to look at the grand display above.
And this dead fox was truly sly.
Just now, when he’d stared at her, he’d refused to admit it.
But this time, he was utterly upfront—there was something about this back-and-forth between men and women.
"Don’t look at me like that. Okay, I admit it. I really am looking at you right now." He grinned from ear to ear.
At that, Han Shuangjiang froze for a moment, their eyes met, and her heart gave a little, unfamiliar flutter.
She quickly turned away, pretending to keep watching the fireworks.
But out of the corner of her eye, she kept sneaking glances at Chu Huaixu, checking if he was still watching her.
It was such a strange feeling.
If he was looking, she actually felt a bit nervous and a bit embarrassed. Under the table, her long slender legs would tense up, but her toes couldn’t help tapping the floor.
But if he stopped looking, she’d feel just the tiniest bit let down.
Luckily, Chu Huaixu was still sitting there with a gentle smile in his eyes, admiring the beautiful scene before him in the purest way possible.
People always say fireworks are beautiful because they’re fleeting.
"Yeah. The most beautiful things are always short-lived."
But to him, the lively, spirited Big Ice Cube after a few drinks was something you never saw on an ordinary day.
...
...
On the other side, in the Inner Sect, at Junzi Temple.
Compared to the bustle outside, Junzi Temple felt rather chilly and deserted.
This was the core area of the Inner Sect, with only a handful of members.
Of the elders, only two remained; Xiang Yan’s generation was all busy with their affairs.
Apart from them, only the youngest batch of true disciples was left.
In fact, there weren’t many true disciples in Junzi Temple these days.
After all, Shen Man and Chu Yinyin had never taken in disciples, and even the slots of Nangong Yue and the others weren’t all full.
Just then, the Daoist Junior Martial Uncle, Jiang Zhi, was carrying a jug of spirit wine as he pushed open a door he rarely opened.
He’d known the man inside the courtyard the longest, their relationship the closest—yet he almost never came to visit.
Or rather, he didn’t dare.
Among their generation of Junzi Temple’s true disciples, many cultivated the sword—nine of them in all.
All nine had trained in the sword array, fighting together with seamless coordination.
At a young age, they’d already made a name for themselves and were hailed together as the Daoist Nine Swords.
Back then, the Profound Yellow Sword Fortune seemed to favor the Daoist Sect.
In Junzi Temple, the Sword Dao was flourishing!
Their nine sword cultivators were so dominant that the Sword Sect couldn’t even raise its head on the other side.
In that generation’s Four Great Divine Swords, the Daoist Sect possessed three!
And the Sword Venerable of the Sword Sect could only rank fourth.
What glory that was!
Now, the animosity between Daoist Sect and Sword Sect still had something to do with that period in history.
These days the Sword Sect thought they were hot stuff again, so, of course, they’d jump up at every chance, trying to reclaim their lost pride.
Back then, as the youngest disciple of the Daoist Sect’s true disciples, Jiang Zhi was as unreliable as Chu Yinyin.
But when the Fifth Floor of the Origin Spirit Realm opened, the nightmare that haunted Jiang Zhi his whole life began.
The Fifth Floor of the Origin Spirit Realm was different from the previous four—in theory, there was no limit to the number allowed in.
But it was a dangerous exception—the power of the Heavenly Dao inside was violently chaotic. An ordinary Seventh Realm could die, their body exploding within moments!
So unless you were as strong as Shen Man, Eighth Realm was essentially the threshold for entering the fifth floor.
That night, nearly all of the Daoist Sect’s top cultivators set out; nineteen in total went in.
Of the Daoist Nine Swords, eight entered.
Only Jiang Zhi didn’t go, since he’d been seriously injured on a demon-hunting trip down the mountain.
The final result was—[Eight Swords entered, five returned].
"Only the Fifth Sword—Zhong Ming—came back."
"The only Fifth Senior Brother who made it back ended up a madman."
"A... Ninth Realm lunatic!"
