A Blind Swordsman's Sword Coffin

Li Guanqi walked over to Meng Wanshu. With a wave of his hand, he produced a small tea table and two cushions from his storage ring.

He gestured for her to sit. “Let’s not be so stiff, my dear wife.”

Meng Wanshu’s face flushed. She shot him a glare, lifted her skirt, and settled across from him at the tea table. “Who’s your wife? Shameless. That was when we were kids. How could that possibly count?”

Li Guanqi lifted the teapot and poured the spirit tea, his voice dripping with exaggerated disbelief. “What? Are you not going to take responsibility? I remember how fiercely you protected your husband back then. Those little girls in the village took quite a few beatings from you.”

Meng Wanshu covered her mouth and laughed, leaning lazily against the table with her chin propped in her hand. She studied him for a long time before murmuring, “You are just as handsome as when you were little.”

She braced both hands on the table and leaned her face right up to his. The move startled Li Guanqi, and he instinctively pulled back a little.

Her brows knit together as she scrunched her nose. “Tell me. When you were eight, could you see or not?”

“I couldn’t!” Li Guanqi answered immediately.

How could he admit that he’d seen everything back then? That was when his eyes had just awakened, and he practically wanted to keep them open all the time.

Back then, Meng Wanshu’s mother, Li Guifen, had been cooking and sent him to fetch food from the kitchen. Inside, he ran into Meng Wanshu bathing in a wooden tub.

Meng Wanshu leaned closer, examining his face. She reached out and pinched his cheek. “Impossible! You absolutely could see!”

Li Guanqi froze. He hadn’t expected her to remember such details. He forced a smile. “How could that be? I really didn’t see anything. Auntie Li always puts the food by the stove.”

As he spoke, he took her hand and gently pulled it away. Her skin was cool and smooth.

She lowered her head in thought, then looked up in confusion. He didn’t linger on the sensation. “By the way, since Uncle Meng brought you all to the Taiqing Territory, what about Auntie Li?”

Meng Wanshu’s eyes dimmed. She understood what he was asking. “Mother came with us, of course. Father treats her very well, and the people there respect her greatly, but she always seems a little unhappy. With my father’s current strength, helping my mother cultivate would be effortless.”

Li Guanqi understood his auntie’s feelings. He smiled. “She probably can’t settle down to cultivate, right? It feels uncomfortable for her?”

Meng Wanshu’s eyes lit up instantly, and she nodded repeatedly like a pecking chick.

Li Guanqi leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Listen to me. When you go back, buy some ordinary chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep. Things like that. Not too many, but not too few either.

“Also, find a few women from the mountain villages below and bring them along. Families, if possible. Set them up somewhere a bit more remote, have them settle in, and assign them some physical work. Give Auntie Li a big vegetable garden too.”

Meng Wanshu looked puzzled. “Will that really work? Wouldn’t that just be going back to her old life?”

She paused. “Wait! You mean... let my mother return to the life she had before?”

Li Guanqi took a sip of tea and nodded. “Exactly.”

“But why?” she asked. “She has a life of luxury and everything she could wish for. Everyone treats her with respect and addresses her as ‘Madam Territory Lord.’”

Li Guanqi shook his head. “You’ve had years to adapt to all these changes. You were only seven years old back then, but Auntie Li was already over thirty. It forced her to adjust to an entirely different world. Feeling out of place is completely normal.”

Meng Wanshu’s eyes lit up. A gentle smile spread across her face. “I didn’t expect you to be so thoughtful.”

Her mood visibly improved. She took a sip of tea and grinned. “Not bad. I didn’t expect you to be so skilled at making tea. Have you brewed tea for other women before?”

Li Guanqi looked up at her and smiled. “No.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

“Really.”

She nodded in satisfaction and nervously took another sip of tea. “Um... then... is there anyone you like?”

“Yes.”

Her hand trembled around the cup. She drank more tea and forced a calm smile. “Oh? Who?”

Her tone showed clear signs of jealousy.

“Careful, you’re going to crush the cup,” Li Guanqi said.

He continued, “There’s always been someone. A childhood sweetheart. Her mother makes amazing stewed chicken. I always said that whoever married that girl would be blessed beyond measure.”

Only then did Meng Wanshu realize he was talking about her. Her cheeks flushed crimson. She hurriedly sat back and downed the rest of her tea in one gulp.

Li Guanqi smiled faintly. He found her unbearably adorable.

His lips curved up subconsciously, and his gaze turned warm and gentle. Just like that, the two of them talked from night until dawn, sharing stories from their many years apart. Toward the end, it was mostly Li Guanqi doing the talking.

After all, Meng Wanshu’s identity was special. Meng Jiangchu would never allow her to travel and train alone. On the other hand, Li Guanqi‌ had been kicked down the mountain by his grandfather and wandered alone across thousands of miles, seeing mountains and rivers aplenty.

Meng Wanshu propped her chin on her hand, listening to his stories, her eyes bright with longing. His tales painted vivid worlds—passion and loyalty, the warmth and coldness of the world, the scheming and treachery of the cultivation realm, the far-reaching plots... Each part left her tense, palms slick with sweat.

Time passed quickly.

***

Ye Feng sat cross-legged on the railing of the cloud boat, facing the rising sun and calmly cultivating.

“Hah...”

He opened his eyes, a sharp light flashing within them. He exhaled and muttered while glancing toward the room, “They really just talked all night? That doesn’t make sense...”

He stood up and stretched. As he did, a faint spatial fluctuation rippled behind him, and a tall, slender man appeared on the railing.

The man had a refined jade-like face, suave and elegant. He wore luxurious white robes and crimson earrings, his black hair tied neatly behind his head. Two gray jiao dragons stood behind him, scanning Ye Feng warily with blood-red eyes.

A handsome love rival, Xiao Chen.

The oppressive presence made Ye Feng instinctively grip the hilt of his sword.

He ignored Ye Feng, clasping his hands behind his back and striding toward the room with a dark expression.

Boom!

Ye Feng drew his sword and blocked the doorway, pointing it at Xiao Chen with narrowed eyes. “Stop.”

Xiao Chen glanced from Ye Feng to the tightly closed door behind him, then said softly, “Get lost.”