N-A-A Chapter 2 The wind rises in the middle of the night, I deserve to die!
Chapter 2 The wind rises in the middle of the night, I deserve to die!
In the bamboo forest
The man dressed in a deep blue outfit walked aimlessly.
He had long, gray hair, but his face did not look old. His sword-like eyebrows and bright eyes seemed sharp, but there was a hint of dazedness in his pupils, as if something had made him lose his focus.
Looking up at the sky, the crescent moon was hazy.
Seeing all this, the white-haired man felt a strange sense of irritation rising in his heart. He frowned, casually broke off a thin bamboo stick and waved it in front of him.
In an instant, sharp sword energy pierced the quiet night sky, penetrating the entire bamboo forest. The mist parted in front of him, and the cold moonlight finally illuminated his ancient face.
The white mist on both sides rolled like ocean waves, trying to flatten the open space, but was once again pushed away by the second sword energy.
The starry sky was reflected in his eyes, but he gripped the slender bamboo in his hand tightly, as if he saw some figure in the bright moon.
"Reaching the pinnacle? Useless!"
"Soul power! That's the foundation! What use is this swordsmanship honed over decades!"
He frantically wielded the thin bamboo, its blade seemingly without edge, yet the sword shadows constantly traced its path. The sword energy, which could have pierced through the dense forest, swept over him like the wind, unable to even blow away the bamboo leaves.
He stopped moving after a short while.
Suddenly, the slender bamboo turned into dust in his hand, and the mist that had been split in two returned to calm.
He raised his hand and scattered the powder remaining in his hand with the wind.
"The difference in soul power is like a chasm. Although the bridge of swordsmanship is long, it is not enough, Father."
Speaking in a low voice, the white-haired man continued walking into the bamboo forest.
Soon, they arrived at an open space free of fog, where a house stood with candlelight flickering in the window.
The faint smell of cooking smoke in the air carried the aroma of meat.
Touching the small cloth bag in his arms, the white-haired man took out a few gold and silver coins, then stepped on the withered bamboo leaves and walked towards the small courtyard.
Before I could ask anything, the door opened and a child stood there, half-closing his eyes as if he had just woken up.
Seeing that it was a child, he tried his best to give a kind smile and asked a question.
"Where are your parents? I'd like to stay here for a while."
This place is very secluded, with no cities within a hundred miles, only a small village by the river, making it a good place for quiet contemplation.
There happens to be someone living here, so it's easier to just stay here.
Zhang Xun observed the other person discreetly. Although the other person's clothes were simple in color, the material was quite unusual.
The person who practices swordsmanship has a sharp temperament; judging from the way he was randomly unleashing sword energy in the forest while offering incense, it seems to be him.
The white-haired man wielding a sword... I vaguely remember him. Zhang Xun didn't remember much from that book, so if he could recall it, it must be very important.
The divination was correct; he is indeed a very important person.
"One silver soul coin a day, including breakfast and dinner. If you think it's too expensive, go five miles west to a village."
"Okay." The white-haired man nodded in agreement.
He watched with his hands behind his back as the boy opened the door for him, but no adults came out, which puzzled him.
He gave the money to the child and intended to pat his head, but then remembered that they weren't familiar with each other yet, and such an intimate gesture would be somewhat offensive. So he simply put his outstretched hand behind his back and introduced himself.
"I am Chen Xin, an ordinary Soul Master. Consider this money as you see fit, and I'll make up the difference if it's not enough. I can smell the aroma of meat from afar, could you give me some?"
As he spoke, he went inside, but still politely refrained from unleashing his spiritual power to perceive things freely.
But you can tell what's going on here just by looking at the layout.
A quick glance around revealed no signs of long-term residence, and many areas were covered in dust, suggesting that the cleaning was only recently completed.
Upon seeing this, Chen Xin frowned and asked.
"Little one, are you all alone? Where are your parents?"
Hearing the sound, Zhang Xun, who was scooping meat out of the pot, casually pushed open the door of the small ancestral hall next to him, and Chen Xin looked over in the direction he was looking.
The first thing you see are two memorial tablets illuminated by the moonlight and meat offerings in bowls, with the incense and candles already half burned.
In light of the present situation, a strange sense of desolation welled up in my heart.
Chen Xin froze, a thunderous roar echoing in his mind.
"The sign says 'parents'? Then why did I ask so many times?! I'm so stupid!"
At that moment, he wished he could slap himself in the face.
No wonder the child never gave me a kind look. If someone in this situation kept asking me questions, I'd be considered well-mannered if I didn't yell at them.
Just like now, his father, Chen Jianjun, has just died after being defeated in a challenge against a reclusive powerhouse.
If any foolish person dares to offend him and bring up this matter, he'll draw his sword and behead them. It's only because Chen Xin is in a good mood today that he'll consider this...
With this thought in mind, Chen Xin, who was over seventy years old, revealed a compassionate look. This child was just like himself, with no relatives or friends.
"I'm sorry, child, it must be hard for you to live alone."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Xun shook his head and placed a large bowl of still-steaming meat on the table, pushing it towards the other person.
"I'm used to it."
His tone was very calm. The six years were just the loneliness of this life; there were still the previous two lives.
Faced with a child whose attitude was a little too good, Chen Xin suddenly felt a little sorry for him. He was so young and already used to this kind of thing.
"What's your name?"
"Zhang Xun".
"A good name. Xun represents wind, your parents are very cultured, wind..."
While muttering to himself, Chenxin suddenly had a whimsical idea: if he had a child, naming him Chenfeng wouldn't be bad.
Hmm... I've been devoted to swordsmanship for nearly seventy years and haven't been close to women. But today, with my father's death, I've suddenly come to my senses. I realize that everyone should leave behind an heir to pass on their martial spirit. Should I find someone to have one?
I just happen to be planning to go into seclusion to cultivate myself, and it seems like a good idea to leave a child behind to teach and play with. It would be even better if the child could have a strong will like this one.
Looking at the child who was not even as tall as his own legs, he finally reached out the sinful hand that he had just withdrawn.
Zhang Xun turned his head to try to dodge, but he couldn't escape Chen Xin's clutches. After several unsuccessful attempts to break free, he could only silently let Chen Xin wantonly ravage his hair.
"Child, what is your martial spirit?"
Chen Xin asked softly. He liked the child's personality. The family's martial spirit, the Seven Kill Sword, could only be inherited through bloodline, but swordsmanship could not.
Stared at with such eager eyes, Zhang Xun scratched his face, unsure of what the other person was thinking.
"It should be bamboo."
"What a pity."
Hearing his answer, Chen Xin couldn't help but feel a little melancholy; he couldn't even find a disciple to pass on his teachings to.
The nature of a martial soul is purely determined by genetics. Even without awakening it, you can roughly guess its nature, unless it mutates or... has chaotic interpersonal relationships.
Bamboo and similar plants may not even possess innate soul power, so there's no point in trying.
"It's getting late, sir. Please rest after you finish eating."
"it is good."
A moment later, Chen Xin entered the guest room.
The house is not large; apart from the central hall, there are four rooms, one utility room, two bedrooms, and an ancestral hall.
Looking at the simple bamboo furniture in the small room, Chenxin did not find it offensive. He sat cross-legged on the bed and began to meditate.
He is seventy-two years old this year. Since breaking through to the top at the age of sixty-two, he has been constantly honing his swordsmanship for ten years, putting aside his cultivation.
His father said he was a genius because, in terms of swordsmanship alone, even his father, who was hailed as the best swordsman in the world, was far inferior to him among his peers.
But after witnessing his father's battle with that man today, he realized how ridiculous his obsession with swordsmanship was. After being granted a title, soul power is everything, and a soul master's battle is a battle of soul power.
Swordsmanship is merely a supplementary skill in combat.
As more and more images of his father's battle with that man appeared in his mind, Chen Xin's soul power surged wildly within his body like a furnace.
If the mind is no longer at peace, meditation naturally cannot continue.
As the wind rose in the middle of the night, Chen Xin opened his eyes. He lay down weakly, no longer trying to cultivate.
What he saw during the day shattered his deep-seated faith in swordsmanship. Coupled with his father's death and his dying words, "Do not seek revenge," he lost his direction.
Multiple psychological blows crashed into his mind, leaving him utterly exhausted.
Just as I was about to get some sleep to get through the night, I heard a noise coming from the central hall.
Chen Xin curiously pushed open the door crack and saw a small figure from behind. What was that child doing in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?
The ancestral hall door was not closed, and he walked in and quietly cleaned and tidied up.
Chenxin had only glanced at the ancestral hall before, but this time he saw it clearly.
However, they discovered that the memorial tablet in the middle was inscribed with "Respected Master Zhang Jiao".
*Slap!* A crisp slap rang out.
Zhang Xun, who was sweeping away the ashes of incense and candles, turned around upon hearing the sound. He squinted and wondered what this inexplicably kind-hearted old man, Mr. Chen, was doing.
It seems like there's no need to make such noises during cultivation.
Never mind, it's none of my business.
Zhang Xun shook his head and sorted through the meat offerings. It was just a ritual; they couldn't just leave them there to go to waste.
·Inside the side room·
Chen Xin sat half-upright on the bed, her old face flushed.
This child has a master! And like his parents, he has passed away!
I didn't notice this important point just now. I even had the audacity to want to take on a disciple. Luckily, I didn't say it, or I would have lost all face!
He kept muttering to himself and occasionally slapped himself in the face.
"I deserve to die!"