Eternal Flow

Less than half a quarter of an hour after leaving the city, Zhaoyue could no longer see the firelight behind her.

Its scalp was blown back by the wind, and its claws gripped tightly onto the fabric on Shen Gui's shoulder.

Below is all Gobi Desert.

One stretch of yellow sand after another, with only a few clumps of crooked grass occasionally visible.

"Young master, slow down!"

As soon as Zhaoyue finished shouting, her feet touched the ground firmly.

When it landed on its feet, it first swallowed a mouthful of sand.

"Pah, pah..."

Zhaoyue patted her head and looked up. The tall buildings and firelight of the city were gone, and the Gobi Desert had returned to its original desolate state.

Shen Gui stood on a sloping earthen bank and looked down.

Zhao Yue brushed the sand off her head and hopped forward two steps: "Young Master, where is this place?"

As night fell, a few candlelight shone from the earthen slope.

"We'll enter the village at daybreak tomorrow," Shen Gui said. "The nights in the Gobi Desert are cold; if you're afraid of the cold, you can stay closer to me."

Zhaoyue was initially puzzled, but after hearing the second half of the sentence, she couldn't suppress her smile.

Previously, Zhaoyue was worried that she had too much mud on her body and that she would look bad and affect the young master, so she kept a half-step distance from him no matter where she was.

Since the young master has said so, Zhaoyue felt that the night in the Gobi Desert was indeed a bit cold.

He crept closer to Shen Gui, his cautious manner making him appear somewhat timid and cowardly.

Upon getting close to the gray-clad figure, Zhaoyue felt her body reach the most comfortable temperature, and her demonic energy flowed smoothly within her. Zhaoyue subconsciously began to exhale.

Shen Gui glanced down at the village, then turned his gaze back to it, and spent the whole night observing it.

The next day at Chenshi (7-9 AM).

The village wakes up very early; the sound of blacksmithing comes on time, even before the rooster crows.

The sound of blacksmithing came from a courtyard to the west, followed by the sounds from a second and a third courtyard, "clang, clang, clang," each with its own rhythm from near and far.

Shen Gui stood up.

Zhaoyue also woke up from her breathing exercises. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her breathing efficiency last night was more than ten times that of usual. Then she couldn't help but let out an ugly smile.

Upon reaching the village, Zhaoyue followed Shen Gui inside, looking around the whole way.

Unlike other villages, every household here has a furnace built in their yard.

Some fires had just been lit, while others were already glowing red. Newly made farm tools were piled up on the corners of the earthen walls, and iron billets were soaking in the water troughs, with white steam rising from them.

Several women sat at the doorway, assembling wooden handles with practiced ease. A seven or eight-year-old child, holding a small hammer, squatted beside a stone block, striking an iron ring. When he accidentally knocked it off-center, an elderly man nearby tapped him on the head with chopsticks.

"Relax your wrist, don't slam it down with all your might, use a gentle touch."

The child rubbed his head and started again.

Zhaoyue looked around the whole way, but didn't see a single sword or knife.

"Young master, is this village a place that sells farm tools?"

"It must be, it's been a long time since I've been here."

"So your old friend was a farmer?"

Shen Gui glanced at it.

Zhaoyue immediately changed her tune: "Farming is great! I've been dealing with farm tools since I was a child. Farmers used to like hitting me with their hoes, and wow, I was incredibly agile..."

Zhaoyue started rambling again, recounting his exploits of ruling the fields.

When villagers see a stranger, they naturally take a second look, but no one comes up to ask questions.

Shen Gui stopped in front of a courtyard gate and asked an old man sharpening a sickle, "Where does the current village chief live?"

The old man pointed eastward with his chin.

"The house furthest inside has an abandoned well in front of it. Are you looking for the village chief to buy large farm tools? You'll probably have to wait a couple more days, as we're too busy with work lately."

Thanks.

Shen Gui responded and headed in the indicated direction.

The innermost courtyard has a low wall, and there is indeed an abandoned well in front of the door, with a round stone pressing down on the wellhead.

There were more than a dozen farm tools hanging on the wall. They were all of ordinary iron color, but the width of the blade and the weight of the wooden handle of each tool were all appropriate for their use, and there was nothing superfluous.

The gate to the courtyard was open, and a man in his fifties was sitting by the stove, using a small file to trim a pair of scissors.

The man had broad shoulders and a few gray hairs at his temples, and his hands were covered with layers of calluses.

After Shen Gui entered the door, the village chief glanced at Shen Gui first, then at Zhao Yue, his hand never stopping the file in his hand.

"Who are you two looking for?"

"Are you the current village head of Yujia Village?"

"That's me."

Yu Qingxiang flipped the scissors over. "This young master's attire suggests he's not here to ask for farm tools, is it?"

Shen Gui nodded.

Yu Qingxiang then said, "There are no guest rooms in the village. If you are looking for weapons, you have come to the wrong place. The Yu family only makes farm tools. It is a rule passed down from our ancestors that we do not deal with military equipment."

Shen Gui: "You haven't forgotten her teachings, have you?"

"What do you mean, young master?"

Yu Qingxiang reached his right hand into the cloth bag at his waist, and when he came out, his fingertip was pressing down on a green bean.

The beans were only the size of a fingernail, with several fine lines on their surface. When the sunlight from the yard fell on them, the lines turned slightly.

Zhao Yue blinked. How come this mung bean is so big?

Shen Gui then said, "Don't disturb the villagers."

Yu Qingxiang stood up, his eyes full of vigilance.

Yujia Village is famous for its blacksmithing skills, which attracts many wandering swordsmen who come seeking weapons. Sometimes, when they encounter unreasonable individuals, they resort to unscrupulous means.

For example, right now.

only...

Before Yu Qingxiang could make her next move, the man in gray added another sentence.

"Take me to see Yu Huixuan's grave."

"Clatter".

The mung bean slipped from Yu Qingxiang's fingers.

His words struck me like a heavy blow.

How does this person know the name of the patriarch?

Upon thinking of his ancestor, Yu Qingxiang's pupils suddenly contracted.

He recalled a portrait that few people in the village had seen, because it was hung next to the ancestral tablet.

Looking at it now, Shen Gui really does resemble the person in the portrait...

A few breaths later, the wariness on Yu Qingxiang's face gradually disappeared, replaced by surprise. His lips moved twice: "You are...?"

Shen Gui nodded.

Yu Qingxiang put the mung beans back into his cloth bag, bent down and picked up the bamboo cane leaning against the wall: "Please follow me."

He didn't call his clansmen; the three of them went out from behind the courtyard and walked along a narrow path into the mountains.

There were several old furnaces by the roadside, their openings sealed with earth.

The mountain road came to an end, and suddenly the path ahead dipped down.

There was a small basin hidden there, and after passing through a cave tunnel, the view suddenly opened up.

In the center of the basin stands a jujube tree with a trunk so thick that it takes two people to hug it, and small green and yellow fruits grow among its branches and leaves.

Under the tree was a stone table and two stone stools. The tabletops were worn smooth by the wind and sand, and the edges had many carvings that bore the marks of time.

There is a small hole in the ground on the east slope. The entrance is not big and the inside is dark.

To the south there is an earthen grave with a stone tablet in front of it. The tablet has been washed white by the rain, but it is still relatively clean, obviously someone takes care of it regularly.

After Shen Gui entered the basin, he didn't say anything more.

He looked at the tree first.

Just then, a jujube fell onto the stone table, rolled half a circle, and stopped at his feet.

Shen Gui picked up the jujube, put it back on the stone table, and placed his hand on an old carving.

Zhaoyue wanted to go closer, but Yu Qingxiang stopped her with a hand: "Don't disturb us."

Shen Gui sat at the stone table for a while, then got up and walked straight to the grave to the south.

Not many characters remain on the stele.

Zhao Yue tiptoed and pondered for a long time, only recognizing the three characters in the middle: [The Tomb of Yu Huixuan].

Below that are a few lines of smaller text, [Shen Gui, standing at...], but the rest is illegible.

Zhaoyue's eyes widened instantly. It didn't know much about the young master's past, and it knew its place and never asked too many questions.

Now that it has caught some clues, it doesn't even want to blink, afraid of missing anything.

Shen Gui stood in front of the monument, reached out and wiped away the layer of fine sand that had accumulated on top of it, and then remained still.

Yu Qingxiang lowered his head and retreated ten steps away.

Zhaoyue stared for a long time but found that she didn't see anything.

After staring for a while longer and confirming that the young master had become a "wooden man", it began to look around the basin.

Upon closer inspection, it was discovered that the stone wall was covered with carvings.

There are words.

There are also paintings.

Some characters are deeply engraved, while others are only a shallow line.

Zhaoyue crouched down close and began to recognize each character one by one.

"All the fleeting flowers are but passing guests, only you enter my dreams and I call out to you."

There was another sentence next to it.

My longing for you is like the waters of the West River, flowing eastward day and night without ceasing.

Zhaoyue scratched her head.

It learned to read because it wanted to join the Teruno sect, so it went to the school every day to eavesdrop and learned some characters.

As for more in-depth poetry... let's skip that.

It moved a few steps to the side to look at the mural.

In the first painting, a woman stands in front of a furnace, holding a long hammer in her hand, with only a few strokes depicting the furnace fire.

The second picture shows several young people working around a stove, pumping the bellows.

As the population grew, so did the clothing styles of several generations.

The inscriptions on the stone wall seem to tell of generations of inheritance, with each generation wholeheartedly dedicated to forging and blacksmithing.

The largest carving is on the central wall, depicting four weapons.

Three below, one above.

Below are a pestle, a halberd, and a broadsword, each with its name next to it.

Zhaoyue tilted her head and recited: "The Pestle of No Form, the Halberd of Tide Suppressor, the Sword of Heaven Suppressor..."

It read it over and over again.

"Why does that sound familiar?"

"It's not surprising that it sounds familiar."

Yu Qingxiang had somehow moved to the back.

He looked up at the mural, and his back slowly straightened up a little.

"The three below were all forged by the third generation patriarch."

"The Wuxiang Pestle is currently in the hands of the abbot of Daguan Temple in Xifanzhou. The Zhenchao Divine Halberd is the national treasure of Qianshui Kingdom in Nanyangzhou. The Zhentian Sword appeared once four hundred years ago and has been missing ever since."

Zhaoyue slapped her forehead: "That's right! I remember now!"

It spent some time squatting outside the market in the sun, enjoying listening to storytellers recount strange tales from around the world.

The fame of Daguan Temple and Qianshui Kingdom was so great that even the little demons in the mountains knew about them, so they were naturally terms that were frequently mentioned by storytellers.

These three weapons are the three of the five most powerful weapons in the world.

Each item has its own story, and if these stories were connected, a storyteller could tell them for days and nights.

Every time one of these items is released, it causes major powers across the world to fight tooth and nail for it.

As for whether what the village chief said was true, Zhaoyue naturally believed it, after all, this place was brought here by the young master.

It turned its head to look in the direction of the village, where the sound of blacksmithing could still be heard.

Ordinary farm tools can be sold for a profit of a dozen or so coins each. Who would have thought that these three divine weapons on the wall, which have overshadowed the reputation of an entire continent, actually came from their ancestor?

Zhao Yue withdrew her gaze and tilted her head back: "What about the one on top?"

It was a sword.

The sword is three feet and three inches long, narrow and thin, with a thin water ripple engraved near the hilt, running down the spine of the sword to the tip.

Three characters are engraved beneath the water ripples: [Eternal Flow].

Yu Qingxiang's gaze changed; his eyes now held solemnity and longing.

"The sword is named Eternal Flow, forged by the first patriarch, Yu Huixuan."

Zhaoyue hadn't yet realized what the first patriarch meant.

His mind is now focused on these four weapons.

"Why haven't I heard of this 'Eternal Flow' before?"

"When my descendants learn weapon forging, they first come here to see this."

Yu Qingxiang raised his hand and touched the water ripple on the wall. "The children of the clan come once when they turn ten, and they have to come again before they are sealed in their hammers. They have been busy all their lives, and all they ask for is to cast another weapon that can stand alongside it. But by my generation, we are still far from it."

"Even better than the three below?"

"When the three generations of patriarchs forged the three divine weapons, they did not dare to inscribe them on the Wan Gu Liu."

"Old man, don't try to fool me."

Zhao Yue stared at the sword for a long time, but she really couldn't figure out how it could suppress the other three swords.

However, Zhaoyue wasn't one to overthink things; if she didn't understand something, she simply stopped reading and turned to ask the village chief:

"Where is this Eternal Flow weapon now?"

"The whereabouts of this sword... perhaps only your young master knows."