Chapter 171: Seal Of The Sword Emperor

Chapter 171: The Seal of the Sword Emperor

Deep in the night, all was still.

Zhao Changhe lay on his bed, staring blankly at the golden foil as it displayed the process of his battle with the Sword Guard.

He wasn’t even sure if the images had truly registered in his mind.

His thoughts were consumed by the moment earlier when he had escorted Sisi back to Tang Wanzhuang’s side and explained his intentions. The sudden, radiant surprise that lit up Tang Wanzhuang’s face—so vivid on a woman who had always been so tranquil—was all he could see.

This kind of diplomatic and strategic thinking, viewing matters from the perspective of uniting external forces, was not something an ordinary martial artist would conceive. It was the mindset of a prince—and moreover, a prince who genuinely cared for his nation.

But Zhao Changhe knew he had only wanted to ease Tang Wanzhuang’s burden, to lighten the weight pressing down on her frail shoulders.

People were strange creatures. If she had pressed him too hard, Zhao Changhe dared say he would have turned his back and fled without a trace. Yet precisely because she was so magnanimous, saying nothing and letting him decide, he felt indebted and believed he ought to do something.

He sighed.

There was another matter… Though he resented Sisi’s actions and had no intention of further entanglement—his declaration of “breaking off all ties” was sincere—the truth was that his anger was far milder than Sisi might have imagined. There was none of the explosive rage that had often consumed him in the past.

It had nothing to do with Sisi. It was still because of Tang Wanzhuang.

He had to admit that the cultivation of the Blood Fiend Art had, to some extent, affected his temperament. Reflecting on his recent behavior, Zhao Changhe realized he had indeed been prone to irritability and anger.

But the tranquility from that melody had lingered throughout the day, leaving his heart as still as a placid lake, undisturbed by ripples. Whether it was anger or desire, both were faint.

Throughout the entire tomb exploration, and even now, Zhao Changhe felt a sense of detachment, as if he were an observer watching his own actions. This allowed him to perceive details more clearly, like the moon reflecting on water, yet also made him less emotionally invested.

This was true stillness of heart.

His anger was mild, his desires subdued—so be it. But there was also no sense of regret, no lingering closeness from the days they had fought side by side, smiling and laughing together. Tonight, Zhao Changhe felt as though he were looking at Sisi like a stranger, able to make a decision with the coldest rationality, thinking in terms of the empire’s interests.

Though this might sound exaggerated, it wasn’t far from the truth.

He wondered whether Sisi would have preferred him to be angry and strike her, or if this cold detachment was worse.

Perhaps this was the source of Tang Wanzhuang’s serene demeanor? Had she always viewed everything around her with a detached perspective? That would explain why their interactions had always felt so formal, so businesslike.

A woman like that—it would be truly difficult to stir any romantic impulse in her. No wonder, in this chaotic age, she had reached twenty-eight without any thought of marriage.

The one who had truly managed to break through her composure was none other than the remarkable Tang Buqi…

Regardless, her lessons in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting were indeed meaningful. He should continue them.

Enough. He would set these thoughts aside for now and discuss them with her tomorrow.

The battle with the Sword Guard on the golden foil offered little value for study, as the opponent was a “corpse-turned” being with scant rationality. Reviewing such a low-intelligence fight contributed little to self-correction and improvement. If he wanted to learn swordsmanship, it might still be worth watching, but now he had the Sword Seal.

Zhao Changhe pulled out the Sword Seal. It was a small sword carved from what seemed like jade, though its true material was unclear. Within it radiated an immensely dense sword intent. With a slight perception, countless forms of sword intent surged into his mind—vast as an ocean, boundless in scope. This was a classic seal of inheritance.

It was evident that depending on one’s cultivation level, understanding of swordsmanship, temperament, and style, each person who comprehended this Sword Seal would gain something different, grasping a unique sword technique or intent from one of its facets.

Sisi had said this could be considered the general outline of all swordsmanship under heaven. That might be slightly exaggerated, but it wasn’t far off. If she took it back to her clan and let each member comprehend their own sword techniques, their strength might indeed increase significantly. Now that it was given to the Demon Suppression Bureau, Tang Wanzhuang could use it to nurture more sword-wielding talents—a matter of immense importance.

But Zhao Changhe had a cheat. He didn’t need to personally comprehend any matching sword techniques… He hadn’t even intended to learn swordsmanship.

He took out the golden foil and placed it together with the Sword Seal.

Gradually, the golden foil emitted a soft glow, enveloping both the Sword Seal and Zhao Changhe.

Suddenly, Zhao Changhe felt a sensation of “entering a dream.”

The scene before him transformed completely. He seemed to stand atop a steep, perilous peak, where an old man in a white robe sat cross-legged.

The old man suddenly raised a finger, and a simple, archaic sword shadow pierced the sky, shooting straight toward a point a thousand miles away.

With a thunderous roar, a distant mountain peak was leveled to the ground. Mountains crumbled, and ocean waves surged skyward.

The sword shadow rose again. The raging sea split apart, revealing a deep chasm. Waves crashed violently on both sides but could not break through the barrier of the sword aura. The ocean was cleaved cleanly in two.

One sword stroke split a mountain; another divided the sea.

And this was merely a flick of his finger—he hadn’t even moved his body!

The Sword Emperor!

In the previous era, when gods and demons roamed the world, he was the one who could claim the title of Sword Emperor!

This was the inheritance imprint he had left within the Sword Seal, now manifested by the Heavenly Book. No comprehension or analysis was needed—the Sword Emperor himself would demonstrate it to you!

The sword shadow flew back. The old man rose, holding a long sword, and slowly began to demonstrate the simple sword technique of the Heavenly Fiend Sword’s wild slashes.

Zhao Changhe had briefly glanced at this technique before falling asleep. He had even tried to use it in the tomb to deceive the Sword Guard, but he had only captured its form. The technique seemed overly simplistic—horizontal and vertical strikes—offering little worth learning.

But now, as the Sword Emperor himself performed it, Zhao Changhe felt his heart skip a beat.

What simplicity?

That horizontal stroke was like the line where water meets the sky, severing the boundary between heaven and man.

That vertical stroke was the divide between mountains and seas, cutting through the continental shelves of entire continents.

Infinite profundity lay within, with all variations ultimately converging into the most primal horizontal and vertical.

This was not just swordsmanship!

The same applied to the blade!

The greatest truth is simplicity; returning to the basics—was this not the essence?

Zhao Changhe suddenly recalled his early days in the mountain stronghold, practicing countless times: the turning slash, the splitting of wooden stakes, over and over again, unchanging.

But this was no longer a basic blade technique. It was a highly condensed embodiment of infinite sword principles. Zhao Changhe knew he could not learn it, could not comprehend it, could not execute it.

He lacked too much accumulation. This was something that could only be honed and refined after mastering a thousand sword techniques and battling ten thousand opponents.

The Sword Emperor’s form shifted. From the simple sword moves, he began to diverge, gradually demonstrating countless different sword techniques—from beginner to advanced, from low to high, hundreds upon hundreds of them.

Zhao Changhe silently memorized them all. He felt that the process of organizing these sword techniques was itself a massive leap in understanding the principles of martial arts, and a significant advancement in his own blade techniques. The benefits were immense.

…

The next morning.

Tang Wanzhuang arrived at the guest courtyard. Zhao Changhe was already up, practicing his blade as usual.

Tang Wanzhuang watched quietly for a while, then suddenly said, “Have you ever considered also learning swordsmanship?”

Zhao Changhe did not stop his blade. He answered while practicing, “Perhaps it’s because swords have a higher prestige in the martial world? Those who could guide me—like Yue Hongling and you—both use swords. My blade techniques have never had anyone to guide me, including this time. The Sword Seal’s inheritance is truly remarkable, but unfortunately, I can’t make much use of it.”

“From your tone, you still have no intention of learning the sword?”

“Mm. Biting off more than one can chew is useless. I started late; I’m already behind others in time. I can’t waste more on learning other weapons.”

Tang Wanzhuang nodded. She watched a little longer, then said, “Sisi is currently beneath the tomb, guiding the Demon Suppression Bureau’s explorations and offering insightful suggestions on how to reseal it. She is too familiar with the relics of the previous era.”

“Has she caused any trouble?”

“No. She has been very obedient.”

“Don’t trust her easily. She is too skilled at acting.”

Tang Wanzhuang tilted her head, observing Zhao Changhe’s expression. He was focused on his blade practice, his face expressionless.

Tang Wanzhuang smiled faintly. “Have you truly cut ties with her?”

“Of course. I’m not a fool. After she schemed against me, would I still treat her as a friend? We’ll handle things formally. Her knowledge and the ancient spirit clan’s special items are useful to you.”

“Only to me?” Tang Wanzhuang’s expression practically said: This is your kingdom.

Zhao Changhe did not answer this, but instead asked, “What restriction did you place on her?”

Tang Wanzhuang smiled. “My Spring Water Restriction. Would you like to learn it? You can use it on other girls later.”

Zhao Changhe felt that Tang Wanzhuang’s attitude today was somewhat odd. He finally sheathed his blade, stepped closer to Tang Wanzhuang, and looked her over left and right.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking if you’re Sisi in disguise.”

“I’m just in a very good mood.” Tang Wanzhuang smiled faintly. “I always want to reward you with something, but I don’t know what you want.”

Zhao Changhe eyed her sidelong for a long moment, then suddenly said, “Do you know what annoys me most about you?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s this tone and mindset of an elder toward a junior, a superior toward a subordinate. It makes me want to shatter it, to see what you look like when you’re shy and flustered.”

Tang Wanzhuang looked somewhat helpless. “This is hardly a chivalrous thought—it’s quite malicious.”

“Who said I’m chivalrous? I’m a bandit.” Zhao Changhe gave up. “If you want to reward me, then I’ll propose a reward.”

Tang Wanzhuang felt a foreboding sense and even unconsciously stepped back. “What?”

“Continue teaching me the qin today—hands-on.” Zhao Changhe even added, “I’m not sure if I’ll deliberately touch.”

Tang Wanzhuang stood there with a strange expression.

“You… are you flirting with me?”