A Blind Swordsman's Sword Coffin

The moon was high by the time Li Guanqi reached the Three Clearings Sword Sect. In the darkness, the sect lay eerily quiet, much like the scene he had visited before. The grounds were littered with ruined walls and shattered buildings, and sinister traces of demonic qi lingered in the air. Everyone in the sect had been killed.

With a heavy heart, Li Guanqi recorded everything he found and slipped away.

His next stop was Guiyuan Hall, where he repeated the process.

Before leaving, he pieced together the clues he had gathered from the two sects. After a long while, a second character finally emerged: 魔 (demon).

Li Guanqi sat atop a mountain, his brow furrowed, and murmured, “Demon? What does that mean? The first character was ‘safe,’ which means that Ye Feng is still relatively safe. At the very least, his life isn’t in danger. But this second character... Demon... Abyssal Demon? Demonic qi? Demonic spirit? Or the Dungeon Abyss?”

Li Guanqi frowned deeply. He still couldn’t make sense of the second character.

Growing frustrated, he took a drink from his flask and gazed up at the bright moon, murmuring, “What exactly does this character mean?”

There was no point dwelling on it when he had no answer. He still had one last place to visit.

He glanced at the wine flask in his hand. It was inconvenient to carry around, so he decided to find a Hundred Treasures Pavilion in a nearby city and buy himself a wine gourd.

Swoosh!

Clad in white robes, Li Guanqi arrived in the large city of Yongjiang. He paid a full sixty high-grade spirit stones for a vermilion wine gourd, having given his old one to Coward Li.

After leaving the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, Li Guanqi wandered aimlessly through the bustling streets. His brow remained slightly furrowed, his mind completely occupied by the message Ye Feng had left him.

He simply kept walking straight ahead. Whenever someone came near him, they unconsciously changed course.

Then a white-haired, white-bearded old beggar stepped directly in front of him. Li Guanqi immediately grew wary. No ordinary mortal should have been able to sense him, much less approach him and block his path. Yet this old man had walked straight up to him and blocked his way with a broad smile on his grimy face.

The beggar’s eyes lacked the cloudiness of old age. His dark pupils contrasted sharply with the whites of his eyes, as clear and pure as a newborn’s eyes. Li Guanqi examined the old man with his divine consciousness but detected no fluctuations of vital force. Even the old man’s sea of consciousness was empty.

Li Guanqi frowned. Could this old man really be a mortal?

The beggar stood a full head shorter than him. Li Guanqi asked gently, “Sir, is there something you need?”

The old man glanced casually at the withered branch in Li Guanqi’s left hand and sniffed, wrinkling his red nose. With both hands tucked into his sleeves, he chuckled and said, “Well, I caught a whiff of your wine, and it smelled rather good. Could you spare an old man a sip?”

Li Guanqi smiled. Only now did he notice the smell of alcohol clinging to the beggar. It was the harsh smell of cheap blended liquor, nothing like the mellow fragrance of his spirit wine. No wonder the old man had stopped him.

Perhaps worried he was asking too much, the beggar drew a hand from the folds of his ragged gray hemp robe and held two fingers barely apart. He bent forward with a small nod. “Just this much will do. One little cup. Just one!”

Li Guanqi smiled and raised a hand, greatly weakening the spirit wine’s medicinal potency until only its rich aroma remained. “Of course. I’ll give you half a gourd. What should I pour it into?”

The old man’s eyes lit up. He took out a waterskin from his robes, dumped the water onto the ground without a second thought, and eagerly held it out with both hands. “Pour it in here!”

Li Guanqi took the waterskin and poured about half a gourd of wine into it. As soon as he handed it back, the old man eagerly took a drink, and a look of blissful satisfaction spread across his face.

Li Guanqi could not help but ask, “Sir, you don’t seem like someone who would be wandering the streets. How did you end up here?”

The old man studied Li Guanqi for a moment, then turned toward the bedding he had spread beside the road. His deep, mellow voice drifted back. “What sort of person do I seem like?”

The old man stopped beside his makeshift bed and looked back through the passing crowd. “You and I are both wanderers. We’ve simply been exiled in different ways.”

Boom!

The moment Li Guanqi heard those words, something seemed to explode in his mind. He was now certain that the old man was no ordinary person. He might even be an expert beyond the Mahayana Realm.

With Li Guanqi’s current strength, he should have been able to sense something from any Mahayana Realm cultivator, but this old man seemed utterly ordinary. If Li Guanqi was right, the beggar had to be in the Tribulation Realm at the very least.

Li Guanqi was shaken. This was his first encounter with someone who might be a Tribulation Realm expert. The old man pursed his lips at his reaction and shook his head.

Li Guanqi slowly walked over to the old man. The turmoil within him had subsided, and he once again regarded the old man with the same calm gaze as when they had first met.

The old man paid him no attention. He simply lowered himself to the ground and lay on his side. Li Guanqi immediately lifted the hem of his white robes and sat beside him.

People streamed past them along the street, many casting curious looks in their direction. A handsome young man in white robes lay beside a scruffy old beggar on the ground. Together, they made for a peculiar sight.

The old man rested his head on one hand, took a drink, and stretched lazily, looking quite pleased. He opened his eyes and looked at Li Guanqi. “Why are you sitting there?”

Li Guanqi smiled. “I’ve got nowhere else to be. I thought I’d keep you company over a drink before I leave.”

The old man sat up and laughed. “I’m just an ordinary old man. Why keep me company?”

Li Guanqi thought for a moment, then gave the first answer that came to mind. “No particular reason. I just felt like talking to you for a while.”

The old man seemed intrigued. He emptied the waterskin, thrust it toward Li Guanqi, and grumbled, “Brat, don’t weaken it this time. You made it taste like horse piss...”

Li Guanqi merely smiled and passed him the wine gourd. The old man released a long breath of satisfaction. In the next instant, all the bustle of the street vanished, though Li Guanqi had not moved from where he sat.

The beggar turned to him and asked softly, “Well, what do you want to know?”

Li Guanqi sat up straight. “Why did you say we’re both wanderers? What did you mean about being exiled in different ways?”

The old man laughed heartily. “I’m a wanderer, but I’m free. You may look impressive, but aren’t you a wanderer too? The world cast me out, so I chose to live this way. But you? You’re bound by karma. You’ve been... exiled.”

Buzz!

Sword Spirit’s voice suddenly rang out, “Old man, watch your words.”