Chapter Thirteen: Provocation!

Yang Yan strode over to the corner of the shelf, intending to pick up the rusty sword and examine it closely.

Unexpectedly, the moment his fingers brushed the hilt, the spiritual energy in his ‘spiritual sea’ began to swirl uncontrollably. It surged along his meridians toward his arm, as if drawn by some invisible force!

Startled, Yang Yan quickly tried to pull his hand back, but he was a moment too late. A thread of water-attributed spiritual energy, clear and tinged with a faint blue, darted from his fingertip into the battered sword. At that very instant, a faint silver light flickered across the blade before it fell silent once more.

"Brother Yang Yan, what's wrong?"

In that split second, even Zi Ling beside him failed to notice what had happened. She merely saw Yang Yan recoil as though shocked the moment he touched the sword, his face twisted in alarm and confusion, and asked in puzzlement.

“It’s nothing…”

“This sword is truly odd—it can forcibly draw the spiritual energy from a cultivator’s body. How bizarre…” Yang Yan thought to himself. He was not so naive as to believe that a legendary artifact capable of nurturing a spirit would appear in such a humble shop.

“How much for this?” Despite the sword’s unfriendly behavior at their first meeting, a voice deep inside Yang Yan kept urging him: Buy it!

The moment he set eyes on the battered weapon, a sense of familiarity nagged at him. Coupled with his irrepressible curiosity, he was determined to uncover its secrets. Still, he dared not risk another direct encounter. Instead, he pointed at it from a distance and addressed the shop assistant.

“Young master, are you… sure about this?” The assistant glanced at the sword Yang Yan indicated, his expression odd, and hesitated before speaking.

“Yes. What grade of magic treasure is this?” Yang Yan asked.

The assistant looked awkward, scratching his head after a moment’s thought. “I… I really don’t know. Our boss picked up this sword somewhere, and it’s always looked like this. He even had a blacksmith grind and temper it, hoping to make it brighter and sharper, to fetch a good price. But no matter how much it was pounded, burned, or ground, it never changed at all. The boss figured it must be something valuable, so he went all the way to Holy Martial City to have an appraiser examine it. But in the end, the verdict was that aside from being extremely tough, the sword had nothing special about it. Its edge was so dulled by rust it couldn’t even chop firewood. After that, the boss lost interest and just tossed it in the shop…”

Yang Yan rested his chin on his hand, thoughtful. From the assistant’s account, aside from the sword’s toughness, no mention was made of its ability to absorb a cultivator’s spiritual energy. Surely the appraiser from Holy Martial City couldn’t have been less capable than him? Was there another reason, or did the sword only absorb certain attributes of spiritual power?

“Never mind—it’s better to take it home and examine it at leisure…”

“How much is this sword? I’ll take it!”

With his mind made up, Yang Yan spoke decisively.

The assistant was surprised by Yang Yan’s persistence but, after a moment’s hesitation, replied cautiously, “Eight mid-grade spirit crystals.”

“What? This broken sword is pricier than even the lowest-grade magic weapons!” Yang Yan couldn’t help but blurt out.

“Please don’t be angry, young master. That’s the price our boss set himself. We’re just following orders. He’s hoping to recoup the cost of hiring the appraiser…”

Seeing Yang Yan’s face darken, the assistant’s voice fell to a whisper.

“Fine, here!” After a moment, Yang Yan gritted his teeth, fished eight walnut-sized, sparkling spirit stones from his dimensional pouch, and shoved them into the assistant’s hand.

The assistant was stunned at first, then overjoyed, calling him “young master” with every breath and rushing to serve tea and water. He repeatedly emphasized that “all sales are final, no returns or exchanges,” making Yang Yan curse him a thousand times over in his heart as a swindler.

Soon, the assistant handed him a round, heavily wrapped bundle. To avoid further loss of spiritual energy, Yang Yan had specifically asked him to wrap it in several layers.

Taking the bundle, Yang Yan’s eyes were full of pain. He muttered inwardly, “Well, there goes my entire fortune. You’d better be worth it!”

After a silent prayer, he took Zi Ling by the hand and headed for the door.

“Well, look who it is—if it isn’t the third young master of the Zhang family. What brings you to our humble shop today?” Just as Yang Yan was about to step out, a mocking voice sounded behind him.

Yang Yan turned sharply to see a young man approaching with a broad grin. He looked about Yang Yan’s age but was short and stout, moving like a rolling ball of flesh—ludicrous in appearance.

Though Yang Yan was not intimately acquainted with him, he recognized this youth from a few previous encounters: Xu Shaoguang, second son of the Xu clan chief.

Yang Yan had accompanied his father, Zhang Tai, on visits to other prominent families in Jinhuan City before. As a result, he knew many of the younger generation, and with Xu Shaoguang’s memorable figure, it was impossible to forget him. As for Xu Shaoguang recognizing Yang Yan, it was doubtless because Yang Yan’s failure to reach the Sense Spirit Realm had long made him the butt of jokes among the great families—a laughingstock for the Zhang clan.

“What did the third young master of the Zhang family buy from our shop?” Xu Shaoguang tilted his head and asked the assistant.

“Second young master, it’s that rusty sword the master picked up by chance. This young master paid eight mid-grade spirit crystals for it,” the assistant replied with a deep bow.

“Oh? So even a useless young master likes to treat other people’s trash as treasure? Hahaha! I suppose it’s no surprise—your Zhang clan’s younger generation isn’t what it used to be. Just a few years back at the clan tournament, your family swept first and second place, putting both our Xu and Sun clans to shame. I wonder what place you’ll take for your clan this year?”

“Oh, forgive me—I forgot you haven’t even reached the Sense Spirit Realm. I doubt you’re even eligible to compete, are you? Hahaha!” Xu Shaoguang spat as he spoke, his jowls quivering with delight, his words more and more insufferable.

“You can’t talk about Brother Yang Yan like that!” Unable to contain herself, Zi Ling’s face flushed red with anger at Xu Shaoguang’s relentless mockery, her voice trembling as she rebuked him.

“Zi Ling, let’s go. There’s no point stooping to his level…” Yang Yan said quietly. It was just his misfortune to stumble into Xu clan territory. He rarely ventured into the city, and knew little of which shops were run by which families. Fortunately, he had already obtained what he came for, and had no intention of engaging with someone as petty as Xu Shaoguang.

“Well, well—such a lovely girl. What a waste for a beauty like you to be hanging around with this loser. If you choose me instead, you’ll be much better off!” Xu Shaoguang’s beady eyes roamed over Zi Ling, his tongue licking his thick lips as he leered. Only now, after her outburst, had he noticed her at Yang Yan’s side.

“Say that again!” Yang Yan’s steps halted abruptly. He turned, eyes blazing, and spoke each word to Xu Shaoguang with cold clarity.

All his life, apart from his father, Zi Ling was the person Yang Yan cared about most. He could tolerate insults to himself, but he would never allow anyone to speak ill of her.