A cup of murky drink slid down their throats as the two sat apart in the cool pavilion.
Three or four cups, five or six words exchanged.
Drinking from seven until eight, they lingered long at parting.
“What are your plans from here on?”
Xu Ping’an drained the cup of cloudy wine. The clear liquor went down smooth, with a faint vegetal fragrance that left a pleasant aftertaste.
“In this life, I seek nothing beyond the Sword.”
“You, ah, you’re a good man in every way, except—” Han Wujin sighed, “—this stubborn ox temperament of yours. Sometimes, being too rigid only blocks the true meaning. It’s best to relax, wander a bit. Maybe you’ll encounter something unexpected.”
Xu Ping’an looked at this old friend. He didn’t have many, so he treasured friendships like this all the more.
Han Wujin, upon hearing news of his arrival in Chaoge, had come specially to ensure his safety. For that alone, this friend was worth keeping.
“Wander about?”
Han Wujin drained another cup, eyes fixed on the unique bamboo patterns etched on the glass, pondering for a moment.
“I’ll consider it.”
“Don’t you want to meet the Swordmaster of Swordsmanship—the highest in swordsmanship in this world?”
“No.”
Xu Ping’an glanced back meaningfully toward the building behind them, but Han Wujin’s answer was resolute.
“Why not?”
“Her sword… has dulled. Now is not the right time. When I have mastered the sword, and her sword is not yet completely dulled, we will meet.”
“Dulled?”
“Yes. Dulled—and the reason for it… you surely know, sir.”
Having spoken to this point, Xu Ping’an knew the reason well—it referred to himself.
Looking toward the building’s direction, although Qingxuan was not showing herself now, Xu Ping’an believed that, with her cultivation, her attention was most likely still focused here.
“Very well. Seems I’ll have to find a way to fix this problem again.”
“If the matter is in your hands, then no doubt Pei Sect Leader’s swordsmanship will soon rise to new heights. When that day comes… it will be even more challenging.”
Seeing the anticipation in Han Wujin’s eyes, Xu Ping’an let out a light laugh.
“You take me for what? Doraemon? Saying something makes it so? Aren’t you afraid I’m just bragging?”
“Not afraid. Though you’re no immortal, you far surpass immortals. For many years, I have even felt you are not a mere immortal but Heaven itself.”
Upon hearing this, Xu Ping’an chuckled wryly.
“You’re overestimating me. Even I must avoid Heaven’s gaze, or one day you’ll have to pick up my remains.”
Han Wujin was briefly taken aback but nodded seriously.
“Good. When that time comes, Wujin will definitely bring along your favorite Wumei Brew.”
“Ahem~ You really mean that?”
“Why not? Most of what you say has already come to pass. When you speak, Wujin believes it.”
“All right, all right, no more of this. If we keep going, we’ll be discussing what coffin to use.”
“Indeed, not without reason are you called ‘Sir’. I was about to say I have several pieces of Thousand-Year Sandalwood at home, but—”
“Stop, stop, stop!”
Goodness, this guy really is planning to send me off.
Xu Ping’an shot Han Wujin a glare, but his friend’s expression remained calm.
“No wonder you have no friends.”
“Should.”
“I am well aware of myself. I do not maintain friendships and do not know what friendship truly is. Perhaps… this trust I now place in you is what friendship is. That is why I cherish it so.”
Well, it turned out Xu Ping’an had overestimated this guy. This fellow had no social grace at all.
He literally had zero emotional intelligence.
But the problem was, this kind of person, devoid of any social tact, spoke words so sincere they almost brought tears to your eyes.
Damn it, Han Wujin’s words nearly moved him to tears!
“No more talk. It’s all in the wine. Good friends for life!”
Xu Ping’an raised his cup high. Han Wujin was startled by the sudden loudness but still raised his cup in response.
“Good… good friends for life.” Both drained their cups.
“May I ask, sir, what does ‘good friends’ mean?”
“Ahem… it means good companions, good brothers.”
“I see. Then Wujin and you must be good friends!”
Seeing Han Wujin say “good friends” with such seriousness nearly broke Xu Ping’an’s composure, extinguishing the poetic mood inside him.
“Pfft hahahaha—right, right, we’re good friends!”
Even Han Wujin, always expressionless like a poker face, couldn’t help but show a slight smile.
“Rare… you actually smile?”
“I smiled?”
Han Wujin looked surprised, raising his hand to touch his face as if doubting he’d actually smiled. After a moment, he nodded.
“This must be what people call one of life’s great blessings?”
“Yeah, smile more. Life’s short—seize the moment. Don’t always bury your head in sword practice. They say reading ten thousand books isn’t as good as traveling ten thousand miles. Maybe getting out more would benefit you—and your sword.”
Though Xu Ping’an was unsuited for cultivation or martial arts, he was a Doctor, capable of healing beings from crawling Sentient Bugs to the greatest Pangu, even touching on the Heavenly Dao.
Though unable to cultivate himself, he had insights into cultivation.
Han Wujin now obviously cultivated the Unfeeling Sword. This sword style has several types, and when reaching the limit, practitioners often must abruptly switch direction.
To cultivate the Unfeeling Sword, one must enter Emotion.
Conversely, those who cultivate the Emotion Sword must become Unfeeling.
This differs from cultivation—it’s a matter of understanding the Sword Dao, an evolution of consciousness.
Therefore, it’s not limited by cultivation level. Once a certain peak is reached, the practitioner inevitably shifts to the opposite path.
As far as Xu Ping’an knew, both Han Wujin here and Pei Qingxuan resting on the bed inside cultivated the Unfeeling Sword.
Qingxuan has already entered Emotion; her sword must have dulled lately, but as long as she sees herself clearly, her Unfeeling Sword will ascend further.
Similarly, Han Wujin is the same.
But with his personality, Xu Ping’an worried he might not find his point of Emotion.
Hence his advice to wander more.
Admiring strength is human nature, for both men and women alike.
The only difference is men, even if admiring strength, rarely marry another man. Women are different.
Perhaps, if Han Wujin gets out more, he might meet the right person to help him enter Emotion.
If one blindly cultivates either the Unfeeling Sword or the Emotion Sword without balance, the only result is madness—ultimate madness driven by the sword.
“You’ve told me twice to wander more. I suppose you see the flaws in me now?”
Han Wujin cared little about anything else, but mention cultivation and he immediately perked up.
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