All those days of studying noble etiquette, all that carefully cultivated serenity—
Shattered completely the moment he heard that sentence:
"Are you truly that wary of Sword Wine?"
Tang San's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists.
Wary?
It was far more than that!
Ever since his crushing defeat in the Continental Spirit Master Tournament,
then his downfall in the Slaughter City—
he had crawled his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood,
only to reach the end of Hell's Road a single step too late!
Even the Killing God Domain had slipped from his grasp.
Li Zhexian seemed destined to be his bane—
haunting him like a shadow, a demon lodged deep within his heart.
"Ah…"
Tang Yuehua looked upon Tang San's hollow expression and sighed softly.
In her eyes, this child's talent and temperament were both exceptional—
but fate had not been kind.
For his generation had given birth to a monster like Li Zhexian.
She had lived long in Heaven Dou City;
how could she not know what "Sword Wine" meant to its people?
Even the bustling marketplaces she once looked down upon—
she had disguised herself and gone there several times,
just to listen.
To listen to the storytellers recounting the Legend of SwordWine.
She had to admit—
He truly was a dazzlingly free and elegant young man.
But such words—
could never, ever be spoken before Tang San.
After a moment's thought, Tang Yuehua spoke gently:
"Xiao San, don't trouble yourself."
"You still have the might of the number-one sect beneath Heaven at your back."
"Though the sect may still bear grudges from years past,
the blood of the sect flows within you—no one can erase that."
"Once you've mastered this zither score, your aunt will take you to…"
"To return and claim your heritage."
——
A day later.
Li Zhexian reined in his horse at the foot of Seven Treasure Mountain—
the home of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan.
The mountain range rose gracefully, draped in lush green peaks.
Red-tiled halls and blue-walled pavilions stretched endlessly along the slopes.
Most striking of all—
the countless rooftops gleaming with seven-colored glazed tiles,
which under sunlight shimmered like iridescent bubbles floating across the sky.
As soon as Li Zhexian dismounted,
hundreds of disciples in gem-embroidered robes streamed out from the great mountain gate.
In the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan,
one's rank could be seen at a glance—
by the number of gemstones sewn onto one's robe.
The more gems, the higher the status.
Only the Sect Master Ning Fengzhi, and the two guardian elders Sword Douluo and Bone Douluo,
wore robes inlaid with seven gemstones and cloud patterns.
Hua—— Hua——
Hundreds of disciples stood proudly in two ranks along the grand steps.
The gems on their chests blazed with dazzling light as they bowed deeply toward the white-robed youth below,
their voices rolling like thunder, perfectly in unison:
"Welcome back, Senior Brother Zhexian!"
"Hahahahaha!" A hearty laugh rang out suddenly.
Ning Fengzhi strode at the forefront,
flanked by Chen Xin and Gu Rong, descending swiftly down the high steps.
His eyes landed on Li Zhexian.
Seeing the young man's familiar, composed grace,
as if unchanged from five years ago,
he couldn't hide the joy in his expression.
"I've waited too long for this day!"
"Zhexian, you finally chose to return to the sect!"
At his side, Ning Rongrong stood straight and elegant,
her bright eyes sweeping over the grandest reception the Sect had ever assembled—
silently admiring her father's showmanship.
"Sect Master Ning, Senior Chen Xin, Senior Gu Rong."
Li Zhexian cupped his hands in salute,
his voice courteous and even, showing neither pride nor humility.
He then fell into relaxed conversation with the three elders
as they ascended the steps together.
On both sides, disciples watched in awed silence.
Across all of Heaven Dou, who did not know the name Sword Wine?
The youth who once left the sect in disgrace
had returned in glory—renowned across the entire empire.
Today's ceremony,
with the Sect Master and both Guardian Douluo personally receiving him,
and every elite disciple gathered—
was an honor unparalleled in the sect's history.
Moreover, Ning Fengzhi had decreed beforehand:
"If anyone utters even half a word of disrespect today—
their Spirit Power will be stripped, and they will be expelled from the sect!"
Amidst the solemn silence,
Li Zhexian reached the summit of the long stairway.
He paused,
turned slightly,
and looked down at the sea of reverent faces below.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Li Zhexian greets you all."
"My visit to your honored Sect today is only to pay respects to several seniors — not to return as a disciple."
"There's no need for you to call me 'senior brother.' I accept your warm welcome with gratitude — thank you."
As his voice fell,
ignoring the stunned looks that rippled through the crowd,
Li Zhexian turned toward Ning Fengzhi, cupping his hands in respect.
"Sect Master Ning, after you."
Ning Fengzhi's smile faltered — a trace of barely visible bitterness flickered at the corner of his lips.
Chen Xin and Gu Rong said nothing, silent and heavy-hearted.
The joy on Ning Rongrong's lovely face faded;
she lowered her gaze, her beautiful eyes dimming with quiet sadness.
——
Li Zhexian's visit to the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan
had been prepared as a grand occasion.
Ning Fengzhi had even ordered half a mountain's worth of greenwood felled
so that the bonfire tonight would burn brighter than ever.
Yet, Li Zhexian only took a few polite bites at the feast
before excusing himself, citing fatigue from travel.
Moments later,
Ning Fengzhi, Chen Xin, and Gu Rong also made excuses to leave.
With the great figures gone, the younger disciples finally relaxed,
and the mood around the tables grew livelier.
Ning Rongrong, however, looked toward the direction Li Zhexian had gone,
then glanced at her father and the elders disappearing down another path,
her pretty brows furrowed in confusion.
"That's Father's study…
It's only ever used for receiving honored guests or discussing urgent matters…"
Peeking out from behind the courtyard wall,
she saw the faint yellow glow of lamplight through the study's paper windows,
casting the shadows of several figures.
"Father… Grandpa Sword… Grandpa Bone… and Brother Zhexian…"
Her eyes widened slightly.
"But… there seem to be more than four people in there?"
Just then—
Whoosh!
The study's lamplight went out.
A white-robed figure appeared before her as if from thin air, silent as a ghost.
Ning Rongrong gasped, nearly crying out.
"Grandpa Sword, you…"
Chen Xin (Sword Douluo) stood with his hands behind his back,
his gaze sharp as a blade,
sweeping the darkened courtyard before finally resting on Ning Rongrong.
"Rongrong, it's late. Go and rest."
"…Yes."
Though his tone was calm,
there was something different beneath it — something heavy, final.
Sensing this, Ning Rongrong obediently withdrew.
Moments later,
a faint, formless sword qi shimmered beside Chen Xin.
From within it, Li Zhexian's figure emerged.
He nodded slightly to Chen Xin,
then faded back into the night—
vanishing more than a hundred steps away in the blink of an eye.
Soon after,
Ning Fengzhi and Gu Rong approached from the shadows.
Watching the white-robed youth vanish into the darkness,
his presence light yet ungraspable,
Ning Fengzhi let out a long, quiet sigh.
"A broken mirror… is hard to make whole again."
Chen Xin remained silent for a while before saying slowly:
"For him to warn us that the Spirit Hall plans to strike at the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan,
and to willingly put himself at risk to intervene —
that alone shows his breadth of heart, and that he still remembers the kindness of the past."
Even Gu Rong, who had long disapproved of Li Zhexian's coldness toward Ning Rongrong, could only sigh now.
"The boy won't say it aloud…"
"But we all understand…"
"He's repaying the Sect for raising him — in his own way."
Ning Fengzhi slowly closed his eyes.
A faint sorrow shadowed his refined features.
"Talent may be rare—
but character is worth far more."
"This time, Zhexian may very well save the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan from ruin."
"What is a little past debt, compared to that?"
He paused.
"Uncle Sword, Uncle Bone…"
"I admit it—"
"I regret it."
The boundless remorse in his voice
left Chen Xin and Gu Rong silent once more.
They too knew—
their indulgence toward Ning Rongrong back then
had only fueled the tragedy that followed.
Chen Xin's eyes gleamed faintly, as if recalling something.
"The Myriad Forms Sword Dao that Zhixian cultivates…"
"There may be a place within the sect that could aid him…"