The Path Toward Heaven

The commotion in the stream soon caught the attentions of the masters in the cliffs as it reached the stone platform on top of the cliff.

A young sister of the Water-Moon Nunnery coming back from visiting the Qingrong Peak gazed down toward the stream with some curiosity, asking, “Who is he? He looks so handsome.”

A young disciple of Windy Broadsword Sect frowned and said, “It looks like he is very famous at the Green Mountain Sect.”

…
…

Looking down at the stream, Gu Han’s expression was fairly unpleasant.

Patting his shoulder, Guo Nanshan didn’t say anything.

Ma Hua didn’t seem to see this, swearing with a laugh, “This guy doesn’t even have a sword; what kind of freaking sword is he going to inherit?!!!”

…
…

He was right; how could you inherit the sword if you didn’t even have one?

Jing Jiu had both empty hands and sleeves, so where was the sword?

Half a year ago, as Jing Jiu climbed the Sword Peak and easily entered the clouds, many people thought he should be able to succeed in obtaining the sword soon, but nobody saw him climb the Sword Peak again.

So he hadn’t gotten the magic sword left by Senior Master Mo yet.

Many masters, including Senior Master Mei Li, were disappointed in him for not trying hard enough, but they had to accept the fact that Jing Jiu was different from a genius like Liu Shisui, and he might have to wait until the next Inherited Sword Competition to show off his own talents once he realized that fact.

Yet, who would have thought Jing Jiu would come out at this time.

So had he actually succeeded in obtaining the sword?

Then, when did he get the sword?

Where was the sword?

…
…

Yes, where was the sword?

Upon hearing the talking and discussion around him, Jing Jiu realized he forgot something.

It was why in the past half a year he always wondered if he forgot something.

Yes. He forgot about that sword.

That night half a year ago, he joined hands with Zhao Layue to kill the Undefeated swordsman of Bihu Peak in the chaotic clouds of Sword Peak; afterwards, he brought that sword with him.

Where did he place the sword?

Jing Jiu tried to recall really hard.

At the time, he held the corpse in his left hand and the sword in his right hand, and there was no hand left for holding the head, which was very inconvenient, so he placed the head on the sword.

After returning to his manor cave, he saw the blood stain on the sword underneath the light, quite visible.

He felt it was quite troublesome cleaning the sword, so he threw the sword to those monkeys in the cliffs to clean it up.

Then…he forgot all about it, and also forgot to get it back from the monkeys.

Yes, this should be it.

The sword should be still in the hands of those monkeys.

It didn’t take much time to think of these things, but it still took some time.

The Elder of Shiyue Peak had a terrible look on their face, asking sternly, “Where is the sword?”

Looking at Jing Jiu’s empty hands, he thought, “I would like to see how you are going to bring out a sword, unless you have formed the Sword Pill and already entered the State of Undefeated.”

“Wait a minute,” said Jing Jiu.

Then he looked at the cliffs downstream, asking loudly, “Where is the sword?”

The leaves were rustling, and the sounds of monkeys howled nonstop in the dense jungle among the cliffs after hearing his voice.

The green trees rattled and a streak of smoke began to rise vaguely, numerous monkeys screamed as they ran away, their sound becoming fainter.

After a short while, the sounds of monkeys were getting closer, which meant they were coming back.

The forest rattled slightly and a tiny trace of smoke rose up, as did a dozen or so monkeys climbing up the trees.

One of them stood on the highest treetop in the forest, waving his long arm, making urgent calls.

In that monkey’s hand was a sword.

…
…

Since all these people by the stream were practitioners, their eyesight was much better than regular folks, so they saw clearly what was going on in the cliffs.

Looking at this scene, unpleasant expressions formed on many faces, and Gu Han’s face was so cloudy that it could rain at any moment.

For the people of Green Mountain Sect, the flying sword was their most trusted partner and most reliable comrade.

So they loved their swords so much that they slept with them every night, cleaned them every day, and took care of them all the time.

Who would have thought Jing Jiu would throw his sword to a bunch of monkeys to play with after he successfully obtained it?

He showed disrespect toward the late Senior Master Mo, to Shiyue Peak, and to the Sword!

That monkey threw the sword over toward Jing Jiu.

No matter how smart the monkey was, he was still a monkey, so he didn’t throw the sword in the right direction.

The sword somersaulted in mid-air as it was hurled toward the stream water.

Seeing this, the expressions on some people became all the more unpleasant; the Elder of Shiyue Peak, sneering loudly, was about to ride his sword to catch the falling sword, but soon he stopped.

Because Jing Jiu raised his hand.

…
…

The falling sword halted suddenly in mid-air, stopping its somersault.

Swoosh!!!

The sword fell down through the air, turning into a green flash before disappearing into the stream.

All eyes now gazed down at Jing Jiu’s right hand.

A sword was now held in it.

The polished surface of the sword was slightly dark, wide and straight, and it was the magic sword returned by Senior Master Mo of Shiyue Peak to the Green Mountain last year.

They were all shocked.

A moment earlier, that sword was in the air about thirty or forty feet above the stream.

The sword fell right into his hand once he reached out for it.

This was the skill of retrieving the sword rather than sending it out, but that meant that he had already reached the State of Perfect Preservation if he could call back the sword from such a long distance!

Now he of course had the prerequisite to participate in the Inherited Sword Competition.

Xue Yong’e yelled animatedly to the people beside him, “I knew I didn’t get it wrong! He must have practiced hard every night in his cave! He is…is…so deceptive!”

…
…

People were surprised and felt ill at ease after realizing what had just happened.

Some of them felt ill at ease because they thought they might miss out on a good disciple, like with Senior Master Mei Li of Qingrong Peak.

Why didn’t she get the news that Jing Jiu had succeeded in obtaining the sword?

Looking at the smiling face of Lin Wuzhi’s, Mei Li realized he had knowledge about it beforehand, and her expression became nasty as she thought of how the other party was one step ahead of her.

Some of them felt ill at ease due to Jing Jiu’s attitude.

“You treat the returned sword of a late master so carelessly; you show not even an iota showing adequate respect,” said Ma Hua, showing a rarely seen smile-less expression that was very solemn.

Jing Jiu looked at him once.

He wouldn’t pay any attention to this chubby fellow on a normal occasion, but today was the Inherited Sword Competition; with so many visiting guests, he felt he should display his good manners.

“This is my sword.”

He didn’t explain further after these words.

It was he who brought back the sword, so it was his sword now.

All the affairs in the past should be cut off with the swing of a sword.

There was no such thing as the returned sword of a late elder.

He could do whatever he pleased with it.

Hearing this answer, Gu Han and Ma Hua recalled the exchange they had had at almost the same place.

At the time Gu Han asked Jing Jiu sarcastically, “Are you qualified using Senior Master Mo’s sword?” The answer from Jing Jiu was very simple, and just one word: Yes.

He was good at ending boring conversations with one word or a short sentence.

He had never hesitated or thought carefully when uttering the word or sentence; he took it for granted.

“It really makes people unpleasant,” Ma Hua commented with a sigh.

Gu Han’s expression became gloomier.

“Since he has the sword, then is it time to show it off?” Guo Nanshan asked.

His expression was still warm and mild, with a gentle smile.

But Ma Hua felt a chill in his eyes, and understanding his intention, spoke a few words to his cronies in a low voice.

“Let Gu Qing challenge him,” demanded Gu Han suddenly.

Ma Hua was surprised, thinking they gave the man too much credit.

No matter how amazing his sword-retrieving skill was, Jing Jiu was still a sword washing disciple and didn’t deserve so much respect.

“So be it,” said Guo Nanshan after a moment of silence.

Since Jing Jiu was prouder than he expected, Jing Jiu should experience more hardship and disappointment in order to make him mature faster.

He thought of this as his plan.

…
…

The surface of the stream was rippled by the gentle wind.

A young man strolled toward the stream from the opposite bank.

He looked like a fairy immortal, his sword robe fluttering with the gentle wind, seemingly flying up.

“Aw, the new guy looks pretty handsome,” said the young girl of the Hanging-Bell Sect, “Though he is not as good-looking as the one on the other side.”

The one on the other side, whom the young girl talked about, was naturally Jing Jiu.

Jing Jiu was surprised to see the young man coming his way.

The disciples by the stream were talking, since many of them had never seen him before.

After some explanations by the informed disciples, they realized he was the legendary Gu Qing.

The disciples of all the peaks knew Gu Qing’s identity, and a commotion took place in the cliffs.