Chapter 8: You Need a Divine Artifact

Ke Dasheng and Luo Ling, along with their disciples, sniffed out the scent of blood and searched everywhere like starving wolves. A large number of Spirit Masters surrounded the main passages leading in and out of the back mountain, looking as if they would not rest until they had captured this intruder.

On the other side, An Zhi, clutching her severely injured arm, stumbled under the guidance of the Spirit Snake until she reached the dog hole from before. Although the hole was small, the other side of the courtyard wall was the dilapidated house of the Sanqing Blessed Land.

"Snake-bao, Snake-bao, hurry, hurry, hurry." An Zhi actually urged the Spirit Snake behind her to hurry through the dog hole.

When An Zhi returned to the Blessed Land, her hanging heart finally settled. Looking at the brightly lit scripture pavilion not far away, her heart seemed to calm down a little. She patted the dust off her body and wiped away the blood flowing from her right arm.

"No, we have to block this hole first." An Zhi slumped on the ground, looking at the hole under the courtyard wall. She struggled to get up, found stones and weeds from a nearby pile, and blocked the opening.

"Does your arm still hurt?" the Spirit Snake asked with concern from the side.

An Zhi was sweating profusely from exhaustion: "I've lost so much blood, what do you think?"

The Spirit Snake jumped onto An Zhi's shoulder: "Alright, hurry, let's go home and treat your wounds."

Seeing that the hole was blocked by stones and a pile of debris, An Zhi turned around with satisfaction and walked toward the Blessed Land.

It was already late at night.

Fan Jin was pacing back and forth on the pavilion with his cane. Because he had noticed that An Zhi hadn't returned since she went out in the afternoon, he was very worried. He was just about to go down to the pavilion with his cane to call for the Sanqing disciples...

Just then, An Zhi and the Spirit Snake came rushing toward the pavilion, looking quite anxious. She turned a corner and ran straight into Fan Jin, who was leaning on his cane. Their eyes met, and An Zhi was at a loss.

The Spirit Snake was agile; it instantly jumped off An Zhi's shoulder and disappeared without a trace.

"Ma-Master Uncle." An Zhi stammered, glancing at her shoulder to find the Spirit Snake had slipped away. "Why aren't you resting yet?"

Although Fan Jin was nearly eighty and didn't walk well, his insight was still quite sharp. Even though An Zhi kept her right hand behind her back, he had already sensed something was wrong and said, "Go on, go back and get some rest early."

"Th-then, I, I'll go up first." After saying that, An Zhi scurried up to the pavilion.

Turning to watch An Zhi's figure go upstairs, Fan Jin's face darkened, and a trace of worry appeared on it.

Back in her room, An Zhi hurriedly closed the doors and windows, then sat cross-legged on the bed to circulate the spiritual power in her body. Finally, the injury was slightly under control, but she felt that healing was also consuming her internal spiritual power.

If only the Leopard Cat were here; the Leopard Cat's skill [Heavenly Rain and Dew] would heal the wound quickly.

Thinking about that was useless. An Zhi longed for the Spirit Snake to be there, so she whispered, "Snake-bao? Snake-bao?"

"I'm here!" Suddenly, a voice came from the windowsill, and the Spirit Snake crawled up from the four-story pavilion. It complained as it climbed: "This old man Fan is so annoying, making me climb up from such a high place."

Seeing her pet baby there, An Zhi felt a sense of security. She asked with some relief, "Are you afraid of Master Uncle Fan?"

The Spirit Snake pondered for a moment: "Afraid of him? Pfft, why look for trouble when you can avoid it?"

The Spirit Snake crawled onto the bed and looked at An Zhi's injured arm, immediately feeling regretful: "Sigh, if only you had a weapon or a magical artifact. You can't just keep holding a peach wood sword every day, right?"

"How about... asking the Ancestor?" An Zhi immediately thought of one person: Meng Hong.

The Spirit Snake seemed to have reservations; it curled up on the pillow and shook its head.

Seeing that even the Spirit Snake had no ideas, An Zhi said with some discouragement: "Then what should I do? The demons behind are getting stronger and stronger. I can't keep slaying demons with a fire poker every day. The Ancestor must have a way."

The Spirit Snake remained unmoved; it seemed to be facing a dilemma, but it quickly adjusted.

"Fine, let's ask the Ancestor, there must be a way." The Spirit Snake immediately stood its body up, and the two antennae on its head emitted a spiritual light. An Zhi felt drowsy, and when she opened her eyes again, she had arrived in another world.

"Ancestor, Ancestor!" Seeing Meng Hong practicing sword techniques in the center of the lake, An Zhi called out immediately.

Meng Hong was dressed in Taoist robes, elegant and solemn, simple yet stylish.

He wore wide-sleeved Taoist robes decorated with various cloud patterns, Bagua, and auspicious symbols such as goldfish, bats, and lotus flowers, signifying Taoist concepts like the harmony of Yin and Yang, the unity of heaven and earth, and the natural way of the Tao.

Seeing An Zhi arrive, Meng Hong leaped over to her and immediately gave a thumbs up: "Not bad today. You even killed a fourth-rank demon spirit; I saw it."

An Zhi had long regarded Meng Hong as her master, so she immediately said: "It's a pity, a pity I have no weapons or magical artifacts."

Meng Hong was silent for a moment after hearing this, then continued: "Actually, there is one, it just depends on whether you dare to take it."

"I dare. As long as you give it to me, I dare," An Zhi replied expectantly.

Meng Hong walked a few steps forward with one hand behind his back and said: "It is on the sixth floor of the Blessed Land's Scripture Pavilion. It is the former magical artifact of Sanqing Palace Elder Fan Jin, the Yuhua Sword. Paired with the Demon-Capturing Sword Technique, anything below a fourth-rank demon spirit is no match for you."

"Ah! Master Uncle Fan's?" An Zhi was surprised. How could she take that?

Meng Hong's expression was also troubled. He paced back and forth, thinking it over repeatedly: "Forget it, this weapon isn't suitable for you yet. It is one of the three mountain-guarding swords of the Sanqing Three Heroes; this sword is not suitable for you for the time being."

"The Sanqing Three Heroes' mountain-guarding swords?" An Zhi repeated, clearly not understanding what that meant.

Meng Hong immediately explained: "Sanqing Mountain has three peaks: Yuqing Peak, Yuxu Peak, and Yuhua Peak, collectively known as the Sanqing Three Heroes. These three peaks absorb the true energy of Sanqing, and each mountain is a sharp sword: the Yuqing Sword, the Yuxu Sword, and the Yuhua Sword. Forty years ago, the Yuhua Sword was taken from the peak because Fan Jin killed an eighth-rank Demon Venerable from the Gyro Realm, so he has held the sword ever since."

An Zhi was both shocked and delighted to hear this; she hadn't expected there to be a treasure on the top floor of the pavilion where she lived.

"Ancestor, how can I obtain the Yuhua Sword?" An Zhi asked again.

Meng Hong was troubled. He frowned, not knowing what to say. After thinking it over, he said: "This..."

Just then, a violent wind blew, and a mysterious force pulled An Zhi toward the sky. No matter how hard she tried to call out to Meng Hong, he ignored her. That helplessness was indescribable.

When she opened her eyes again, she was still sitting on her bed, and a figure appeared at the door.

"Ma-Ma-Master Uncle, is something the matter?" From the silhouette and the shadow of the cane, An Zhi concluded it was Fan Jin.

Fan Jin pushed the door open and entered: "I knocked for so long, I thought you were asleep?"

Knocked for so long? Had Fan Jin been standing at the door for a long time? She didn't think too much about it and got up to greet him: "Master Uncle, why aren't you sleeping so late?" An Zhi felt uneasy, wondering why this old man was here so late.

Fan Jin looked around the room. In fact, he had already seen that An Zhi was injured by a demon, so he took out a small gourd: "I have a bottle of medicine here, specifically for demon wounds. It can heal them quickly."

"Ah!" An Zhi was stunned. How had her little secret been exposed? She changed the subject: "I, I, I'm not injured, Ma-Ma-Master Uncle, you, you should keep it."

Facing An Zhi, who was stammering, Fan Jin stood up and said: "If demon wounds are not treated in time, you will constantly lose spiritual power."

"Ma-Ma-Master Uncle, how did you know I was injured?" An Zhi asked.

Fan Jin looked at An Zhi's evasive eyes and just smiled: "Hehehehe, I am your Master Uncle."

"If only my Leopard Cat were here. Before, whenever I was injured, it would help me heal." An Zhi still missed the Leopard Cat she had raised herself; after all, they had depended on each other for over a year, and it even came with its own healing skills.

Fan Jin asked with a smile: "Do you think my Blessed Land is not good?"

This question stumped An Zhi. No matter how she answered, it felt like a trap, but she quickly said: "It's very good. Master Uncle is so kind to me and even gave me medicine, but I am still so young, I can't bury my dreams."

"Dreams, eh!" Fan Jin stroked his beard, looking meaningful.

An Zhi said solemnly: "Yes, dreams. I want to become someone like the ten-coin demon slayer Meng Hong."

Fan Jin nodded: "Yes, Ancestor Meng, during the Great War of Sanqing Mountain against General Black Python..."

...

(End of chapter)