Chapter 2: The Sword Is Not Yet Fastened

Chapter 2: The Sword Not Yet Ready

Dusk.

The setting sun was like blood.

Wild crows circled, lingering over the lonely village, their mournful cries mingling with the screams and wails from within, making the place seem even more like a ghostly hell.

Zhao Changhe stood dazed behind a distant tree, staring at the chaotic scene in the village. Before he could even recover from the discomfort of crossing between worlds, a small village on the verge of annihilation unfolded before his eyes.

Shattered door and window fragments lay scattered in disarray; the pungent stench of blood wafted from every household; corpses were strewn haphazardly before doors and under windows; naked female bodies were discarded carelessly on the road, covered in the marks of violation.

Black-clad figures were still rampaging everywhere, breaking down doors, ransacking houses, looting goods. His enhanced vision clearly saw someone drag a woman out into the street to violate her, while a group of black-clad men laughed heartily.

So this was what they meant by "the starting point will be in a safe place"?

Appearing in the woods outside the village, not directly inside it—the killers didn’t know he existed, and he could slip away quietly. That counted as safe, did it?

Then he saw a black-clad man leading an ox pulling a cart of bloodstained loot, shouting impatiently, "That’s about enough. How much flavor can these village girls have? The sun’s almost down. Kill them all, don’t leave any loose ends."

As a black-clad man raised his blade to strike a nearby child, Zhao Changhe’s fury surged, and he could no longer hold back. Grabbing a thick wooden branch from the forest, he charged straight out.

Wait—where was the broadsword that always accompanied him in his dreams? Never mind. To hell with safety. Wasn’t this just a dream? Based on past experience, dying meant waking up, and he could go back and ask that blind man what the hell he was playing at!

"Smack!" The wooden branch whistled through the air. The black-clad man, caught off guard, had his blade knocked aside. Zhao Changhe didn’t stop; he swung the branch in a wide arc, landing a solid blow on the man’s face. Blood splattered.

The black-clad man clutched his head and screamed. His stunned comrades turned to look. Zhao Changhe quickly grabbed the child behind him and fled. Fighting a group was clearly out of the question—saving the child was the priority.

Someone suddenly sneered, "There’s still a survivor. Kill him."

The black-clad men bared their grins and gave chase in unison. How could Zhao Changhe outrun them while carrying a child? He could clearly "see" the scene behind him—a long blade was already swinging toward his neck.

The rear eye, it actually worked?

Zhao Changhe dodged sideways in desperation and raised the branch to block. The branch was cut clean in two. He twisted quickly, but the blade left a long gash across his face.

And in that moment of delay, the child was cut down by another man.

Ignoring the pain on his face, Zhao Changhe’s mind went blank.

The child was dead... Slain right before his eyes, and he couldn’t save him.

This village... it seemed there were no survivors left...

"Damn it!" Zhao Changhe roared in fury, swinging the broken half of the branch wildly like a mad beast.

"So he’s just a farmer who’s never trained in martial arts, all brute strength," the black-clad men laughed. The one whose head had been cracked earlier sidestepped, easily evading Zhao Changhe’s frantic swings, and aimed his long blade deftly at his throat.

It was over.

He couldn’t dodge.

What kind of shitty nightmare was this? Not only was it more disgusting than before, but the difficulty had also increased!

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a sharp sound of a projectile cutting through the air whistled past. With a "ding," the black-clad man’s long blade was knocked away.

At the same time, the sound of hoofbeats grew closer, and someone came riding in. Before the horse arrived, the rider had already leaped off. Zhao Changhe only caught a flash of a red-clad figure, a gleam of sword light, and then blood sprayed around him. Several screams rang out almost simultaneously, then abruptly ceased.

The galloping horse reached them just then. The red figure flipped and landed back in the saddle.

Only now did Zhao Changhe see clearly: a woman in a red tight-fitting outfit, her hair tied in a high ponytail, riding a blue-maned horse. A red-sheathed long sword hung slantwise at her waist. Her eyes were like lightning, her bearing heroic and commanding.

"Thud," "thud"—one after another, the black-clad men around them collapsed, all dead on the spot.

Zhao Changhe, who had been hacking and slashing aimlessly in his dreams for so long, experienced for the first time what it was like when a single sword strike felled nine geese, as described in novels.

This was martial arts! It really existed!

The woman looked around at the tragic scene, a hint of sorrow in her eyes. She murmured to herself, "If only I had come a little earlier..."

Zhao Changhe panted heavily. The thrill of barely escaping death was overshadowed by the outrage over the village’s tragedy. He forgot to thank her and asked blankly, "Who are these people?"

The woman shook her head silently. After a long pause, she said, "I’m just passing through... but I might have some clues. First, let me ask: Is this the road to Luo Manor?"

So she was just passing by and happened to see this and intervened... Zhao Changhe had no idea what Luo Manor was, so he could only shake his head.

Seeing his bewildered look, the woman understood his state of mind and didn’t press further. She rode her horse in a circle and spotted a stone tablet at the village entrance inscribed with "Zhao Village." She nodded. "Zhao Village. When I asked for directions earlier, they said Zhao Village was a few dozen li ahead, so this must be the right road..."

Then she examined the black-clad corpses and frowned again, muttering, "So they’ve already come? But why would they be so reckless as to alert everyone?"

She dismounted and searched two of the bodies thoroughly, finding only a little silver and no other identifiers. She frowned in thought for a while, got nowhere, and turned to see Zhao Changhe still standing there dazed. She sighed and asked, "Do you... have any family left?"

Zhao Changhe shook his head again.

The woman said, "I’m heading to Luo Manor on business. You might as well come with me. The aftermath here can be handled by people from the manor, and you can find some work there to make a living."

Go to Luo Manor to find work? Zhao Changhe felt like this was straying from what he was supposed to do in the dream... But if he had to find a goal, where should he go?

Seeing his hesitation, she urged, "In this chaotic age, if you haven’t trained in martial arts, you’ll only be bullied. Luo Manor is at least a renowned house of the Great Xia, said to have considerable ties with the imperial family. If you can learn a move or two there, you might have hope for revenge, and it’ll be a foundation for your future."

Great Xia...

This dream even had a world setting?

Zhao Changhe didn’t want to think that far ahead for now and blurted out, "Sister, you’re so skilled. If I want to learn martial arts, can I learn from you?"

"Sister? We don’t even know who’s older." The woman smiled and shook her head. "I wander the jianghu; I can’t take on disciples. Luo Manor suits you well. If I take you there, they might show me some face."

Zhao Changhe had no choice but to say, "Alright. I was dazed just now and forgot to thank you for saving my life. May I ask your name?"

"Yue Hongling." The woman answered casually, then asked with some curiosity, "You speak like someone educated. What’s your name?"

"Zhao Changhe."

It coincidentally matched the name of this village, Zhao Village.

Yue Hongling said no more. She reached out and pulled, and Zhao Changhe felt as if he were flying through the clouds, landing on the horse behind her.

Her slender, upright back was just inches before his eyes, and he could faintly catch her fragrance. A lifelong bachelor, Zhao Changhe was too embarrassed to think improper thoughts and dutifully grabbed the saddle behind him, feeling that this dream was even more absurd than the previous ones—because it was too detailed.

There was dialogue, a fragrance, a gallant swordswoman, free and unrestrained—she felt like a real person.

The thin snow around them, the wind as they galloped—it was cold. The tips of Yue Hongling’s hair, stirred by the ride, brushed lightly across his cheek, tickling.

These were things he had never experienced in his previous dreams, which had nothing beyond hacking and slashing—so vivid.

The wound on his face from the earlier slash still ached. He reached up and touched it; his hand came away with blood.

Zhao Changhe stared at the blood on his hand, and a sudden panic set in—what if this wasn’t a dream?

His mind in turmoil, he didn’t know how to ask Yue Hongling anything, and they rode in silence.

After traveling several dozen li, vast fields appeared ahead. It was early winter; a thin layer of snow lay on the fields left and right, with no one working. At the end of the fields stretched a continuous manor, its walls towering high, its extent unknown. On the main road leading to the manor stood a massive archway with gilded characters reading "Luo Manor."

Yue Hongling slowed the horse, looked at the guards ahead, and breathed a sigh of relief. "It seems this manor is still safe."

Soon, a manor guard blocked their way: "Halt, visitors!"

Yue Hongling reined in her horse and saluted with a martial arts gesture: "Please inform the Lord of Luo Manor that Yue Hongling of the Sunset Mountain Villa has come to call."

Her voice was not loud, but it carried far like the tolling of a bell at dawn or dusk. Zhao Changhe envied her inwardly—this must be inner strength, right? Unlike him, who was nearly jolted to pieces just sitting on the horse...

Before the guards could respond, a hearty laugh came from within the manor: "What wind blows Miss Yue to our humble abode? Truly an honor, an honor! Open the gates, welcome the guest!"

The guards hurriedly swung open the main gates. A middle-aged man with a long beard strode out, smiling as he said, "Indeed, at this dusk hour, the setting sun and red feathers against the evening glow—a beauty not of this mortal world. The praise of the jianghu is not without reason."

Zhao Changhe: "Ugh..."

Yue Hongling: "..."

Zhao Changhe hadn't meant to; it was his first time galloping on horseback, and he was genuinely jolted into vomiting. If he had a choice, he would have gladly agreed with the other's words—Yue Hongling was truly beautiful.

The middle-aged man's gaze fell upon Zhao Changhe, his eyes showing inquiry: "And this is..."

"Ahem." Yue Hongling gave a dry cough, helped Zhao Changhe down, and clasped her hands in salute: "Hongling greets Master Luo. I have come to share some confidential matters. This person happens to be connected to them..."

Zhao Changhe pricked up his ears.

The second card—its face a jade pendant—was said to point to the initial location, but this initial experience was inexplicable, with no apparent connection to the jade pendant. Could the secret matter Yue Hongling was speaking of now refer to this?