"Zhexian…"
"Would you be willing to return to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect?"
Even with Ning Fengzhi's ability to maintain composure, a hint of nervousness surfaced in his heart after he asked the question.
henxin's hand, holding his teacup, paused slightly.
As the rim of the cup touched his lips, the tea rippled without a breeze, and sword qi crisscrossed within the ripples.
In an instant, the water in the cup evaporated into nothingness, leaving only curling wisps of white steam.
He put down the empty cup.
His gaze swept between Ning Fengzhi and Li Zhexian.
Both he and Ning Fengzhi knew full well…
Ever since Rongrong cut ties with Li Zhexian, they, as her elders, had stood idly by—tantamount to indulgence.
Even when Li Zhexian left in sorrow, drinking to drown his sorrows, they didn't show up to stop him.
From that very moment…
Li Zhexian's connection with the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had already been severed.
The youth might seem free-spirited and unrestrained, yet in his bones, he carried his own unyielding pride.
And even so…
For Ning Fengzhi, a sect master, to lower himself now and offer reconciliation—this alone proved how dazzling Li Zhexian had become.
Xue Qinghe's gaze also fell on Li Zhexian.
For her, of course, she could not possibly wish for Li Zhexian to return.
It had nothing to do with personal gain; it was purely that she didn't want the people who had let Li Zhexian down to be so easily forgiven.
"I refuse."
Under the varied gazes of the three people, Li Zhexian's answer was crisp and clear, as if he were stating an already-determined fact.
"Zhexian…"
The bitterness at Ning Fengzhi's lips deepened further.
He had not expected Li Zhexian to leave him not even a shred of gentleness.
This couldn't help but remind him of that day...
When he, Chen Xin, and Gu Rong had stood in silence, watching Rongrong draw a hard line with Li Zhexian.
At that time, he also hadn't thought to leave any leeway. Today, Li Zhexian returned the favor with the same attitude. Karma came full circle. It was exactly as it should be.
Chen Xin's white eyebrows furrowed slightly, then smoothed out again. ...Li Zhexian was not wrong.
"The tea has gone cold, though." Xue Qinghe elegantly refilled the tea for Ning Fengzhi and Chen Xin.
His eyes met Li Zhexian's by chance, and a faint smile blossomed within them. Li Zhexian understood the look: well done.
He drank his tea, his expression calm and unbothered.
Return to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect?
That thought had never once crossed his mind.
He had already chosen to roam the continent, to wander the world with sword in hand.
Other than the bright moon and clear breeze, any force would be a shackle.
Let alone the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, with whom he bore old grievances.
Though he had let go of resentment…
But the past was not an illusion.
Looking at Li Zhexian's calm and handsome face, Ning Fengzhi sighed heavily. "It's understandable that you don't want to go back. Just like in the chess game just now, one wrong move is a late regret."
"Zhexian, I have but one last question…"
"Rongrong…"
"She is still young, spoiled by our indulgence."
"That day, the words she spoke to you were too harsh, too absolute."
"Allow me to apologize on her behalf—"
"Sect Master Ning, you're being too serious!"
Li Zhexian cut him off, his tone earnest.
"Looking back now, I squandered six years without progress."
"For Ning Rongrong, who possesses the Seven Treasure Glazed Pagoda Martial Soul, I was indeed not a good match. It's only natural that she would draw a line between us back then."
Ning Fengzhi opened his mouth but faltered.
Li Zhexian went on:
"Rest assured, Sect Master Ning."
"If one day I should cross paths with Ning Rongrong again, I will treat her as a stranger—no different than if we had never known each other."
"As for deliberate vengeance or cutting remarks—that would be childish. It is not in my nature."
It seemed all had been laid bare.
The knot between Li Zhexian and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect seemed unraveled.
And yet—
Ning Fengzhi could not help but feel…
That the unseen rift between them had only grown deeper.
To continue further would only breed awkwardness; the only bond between them was their shared past, and to speak of it now only heightened the sense of distance.
Ning Fengzhi stood up and said, "Zhexian, you don't need to see us out. Please rest well."
Still, Li Zhexian escorted Ning Fengzhi and Chen Xin to the courtyard gate.
And then—
At that moment, Chen Xin's steps suddenly stopped. His white hair moved without a breeze, and he turned slightly.
He pointed his fingers like a sword and struck at Li Zhexian without any warning.
The strike came so abruptly…
This sudden attack caused a flash of golden light to pass through Xue Qinghe's eyes. Li Zhexian's hand touched Xue Qinghe's wrist behind his back.
Xue Qinghe's tense body then slowly relaxed.
A gleam of swordlight flared in Li Zhexian's eyes. A clear sword sword sounded, and the Qinglian Sword hung in front of him.
The moment his hand gripped the hilt, a genlte breeze suddenly came into the courtyard!
This breeze blew directly into the Qinglian Sword!
The twelve green lotuses carved on the spine of the sword swayed gracefully in the wind!
Facing the chilling sword light from Chen Xin's sword fingers, Li Zhexian made his move.
"Qinglian Sword Song, Third Form—Formless Wind…"
Sword light—ephemeral, without shape or trace—flowed within the breeze, yet carried a mysterious sharpness that could erode stone!
In an instant—
Grass, wood, and stone throughout the courtyard bore silent marks of wind's erosion.
Li Zhexian's sword met Chen Xin's sword-fingers, only to dissolve like a drifting breeze.
Without hesitation, he sent out two more slashes in quick succession. Streaks of sword light crisscrossed, barely holding off Chen Xin's single strike.
Chen Xin looked at Li Zhexian, his eyes full of undisguised admiration.
"You truly have grasped the sword intent of wind."
"In a wisp of wind, some comprehend its swiftness, some its sharpness—but you have touched upon its formlessness, resonant with the erosion of all things by the passage of time."
"So, you've been to the Wind Sword Sect, and met Feng Bailong."
"Do not trouble yourself with that old hermit's words. He sits atop the mountain, listening to the wind, vowing 'never to step into the Douluo realm, letting his sword edge fade.' But in my opinion, without a great opportunity, Feng Bailong will be hard-pressed to reach the Douluo realm in this lifetime."
"To gain this wind intent, your foundation in the Sword of Myriad Forms has deepened further. Yet the road ahead will still be fraught with peril."
"When you grasp the Fourth Realm of the Sword… I will come again."
With those words—
Chen Xin departed with Ning Fengzhi, drifting away.
When the two had walked far from the courtyard…
Ning Fengzhi suddenly spoke:
"Zhexian said he will treat Rongrong as a stranger."
"Knowing Rongrong as I do… I fear that will wound her more deeply."
At this, even Chen Xin's austere face revealed rare helplessness.
He was confident that the sword in his hand could cut through everything in the world.
Only the word "love" could not be cut, and it only tangled things more.
"Should we tell Rongrong about Zhexian's current situation?"
Ning Fengzhi pondered a moment, then shook his head.
"When Rongrong and Zhexian parted ways, we did not interfere."
"Now… let it follow its course."
Chen Xin gave a slight nod.
When they had passed beyond the bounds of Heaven Dou City, Chen Xin suddenly stopped, speaking to Ning Fengzhi:
"Fengzhi, you and I both were certain that Zhexian would not act for the Ye family or participate in the competition for the Heavenly Healing Holy Pagod
"But even so, when Zhexian's sword dao reaches its peak, there will inevitably be a battle between him and me."
Ning Fengzhi looked at him in astonishment—
Then, slowly, he understood.
Across the land, sword cultivators were as countless as fish in a river.
Chen Xin now stood foremost among them all.
If Li Zhexian sought to prove his dao and climb to the peak in the future, then to cross swords with Chen Xin was inevitable.
This was not grievance—it was the struggle of the dao.
Ning Fengzhi could only shake his head and sigh.
"It seems the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and Li Zhexian are destined to have no peace."