Chapter Sixty: One Umbrella, Two People

Staring out the window at the oppressive sky, Xu Xing felt a tinge of worry. Perhaps, when the heavy rain arrived, something truly unfortunate would happen. The matter of the Nine Swordsmen weighed on his heart like a lingering ailment, yet after some thought, he realized he had left no evidence of guilt behind. In their battle, he had not summoned his spiritual power; even the faint trace he used to guide his sword had long since dissipated. The one thing that troubled him was the sword in his hand—etched with intricate runes that sometimes seemed to shift and turn. Because of this, he dared not wield the Dragon Scale Sword again; the consequences could be dire.

“Junior, what’s wrong? You look troubled.” Zi Yan’s gentle voice broke his reverie as she glanced at him by the window.

“It’s nothing. I was just wondering why such a large inn has only one room left. It’s odd, isn’t it? I can’t make sense of it…”

“You… are you saying you dislike my company?” Zi Yan rose from the bed and approached him, her hand hesitantly resting on his shoulder.

A faint fragrance filled the small room, and from outside, it was as if the chamber was aglow with a gentle luminescence, radiant and resplendent.

“How could I ever dislike you, Senior Sister? By the way, you must be in the late Foundation Establishment stage now, right? See, I told you the herb I gave you would help.”

Turning around, he found Zi Yan almost leaning against him, gazing out the window at his side.

“Yes, but what of it? Sometimes, I feel another presence dwelling within me, as if I’m no longer in control of my own body…” Her voice was tinged with melancholy as she looked upon the bustling street below. Though it was about to rain, the crowds were still thick, people coming and going.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find a miracle healer for you. Night is falling soon. Tonight, I’ll sleep on the floor and you can have the bed. It’s strange, really—when you were unconscious, I checked other inns, but they were all full. We’ll just have to see if there’s a room available tomorrow.”

“In that case, Junior, let’s not sleep tonight at all.”

Xu Xing was startled by her suggestion. “What do you mean? Stay up all night?”

She smiled. “Look at the sky. It’s going to rain soon. I love listening to the rain at night. Will you sit with me and watch the rain and listen to the wind until dawn?”

“What? Sit up all night? Won’t that be exhausting?” Xu Xing protested weakly. How could anyone go without sleep?

But Zi Yan’s eyes sparkled with resolve. “Yes, until dawn. Are you unwilling to keep me company?”

“Alright… I’m just worried you won’t be able to last. Senior Sister, you’re rather odd—staying up all night just to watch the rain and hear the wind.”

Would they truly remain awake until morning? Such a thing would exhaust both body and mind. Xu Xing grumbled softly.

“Senior Sister, why don’t we go out for something to eat and take a walk?” he suggested.

Zi Yan nodded gently, and together they stepped outside. The innkeeper greeted them with a look of admiration, giving them a thumbs-up, which left Zi Yan a bit bewildered as Xu Xing quickly led her away.

They went to a tavern beside the inn. Come to think of it, they hadn’t eaten in a day. Xu Xing ordered five dishes and three soups, and they settled in to wait.

The tavern was packed. Xu Xing was lucky enough to claim the last available table. At the next table sat two swordsmen, eating meat and drinking wine with boisterous laughter.

“The Nine Swordsmen fell outside Lantern City today. What a shame. You’ve heard, haven’t you? I hear the Zhuo Ding Sect is furious, offering a bounty of a hundred Foundation Establishment-level divine runes for the culprit.”

“Indeed! It’s caused quite a stir. I just heard that the North Sea Sect is searching for the pair, but not to punish them—they want to recruit that person.”

“They say the one who killed the Nine Swordsmen was a sword prodigy who didn’t even use spiritual power, just pure swordsmanship!”

Their conversation rang through the tavern, drawing curious patrons eager for details.

“We’re all wanderers of the martial world—let’s just call each other brothers. Tonight, let me be your storyteller!” One of the swordsmen hopped onto the table, eating beef and drinking wine with gusto. The tavern’s mood grew lively—some ate, some listened.

“Listen well, brothers! The tenth-ranked expert of Zhuo Ding Sect in the late Foundation Establishment stage, the Nine Swordsmen, perished today. That’s right, you heard correctly—slain by an unknown youth. Rumor has it…”

As he spoke, the swordsman glanced at Xu Xing and Zi Yan.

“Rumor has it, this youth is no cultivator!”

At this, the tavern erupted. Could a mere mortal have done such a thing? How could an ordinary person slay Foundation Establishment cultivators, let alone the tenth-ranking Nine Swordsmen of the Zhuo Ding Academy?

It sounded like madness, a mortal slaying gods, a tale for dreamers. The tavern buzzed with disbelief, but there was another possible explanation.

“Brothers, I assure you, it’s true—the killer wasn’t an ordinary man, but a sword prodigy!”

“What!?”

“Is it really so?”

Faces fell in shock, their expressions incredulous.

A coarse voice piped up, “Are you saying someone surpassed even the ‘Fervent Swordsmen’ and became a ‘Prodigy’?”

The swordsman smiled. “Exactly. Everyone knows, mortals are called ‘Commoners.’ Those with some skill in swordsmanship are called ‘Fervent Swordsmen.’ When one reaches the pinnacle, they are called ‘Prodigies.’ Why were the Nine Swordsmen called the ‘Nine Fervent Swordsmen’? Because their swordsmanship had reached the fervent rank!”

“A Commoner rivals a Qi Condensation cultivator; a Fervent Swordsman can challenge a Foundation Establishment cultivator. As for a Prodigy, they can stand against even those at the Golden Core stage. Each rank has its levels, and the one who struck today was a newly-ascended Prodigy!”

The clamor rose, spreading like the wind through every alley and street.

The server arrived at Xu Xing’s table with steaming dishes and a bottle of wine. Xu Xing thanked him and began to eat and drink heartily, while Zi Yan was far more delicate.

As they ate, the crowd grew ever more animated. After hearing the tale of Xu Xing’s battle with the Nine Swordsmen, Zi Yan looked at him and teased, “Well, Junior, you’ve become quite famous.”

Xu Xing took a deep swig of wine, feeling understood at last. With a hint of pride, he whispered, “Senior Sister, you didn’t see it—my move was truly magnificent.”

“That’s enough, don’t get too cocky here.” Zi Yan knew well what kind of person Xu Xing was. He was of the outcast lineage, bearer of the Nine Star bloodline, able to take on the Nine Swordsmen in the early stage of Foundation Establishment and emerge victorious. The Nine Swordsmen were said to rival those at the peak of Foundation Establishment! Such feats spoke volumes of Xu Xing’s strength.

Just then, the swordsman at the neighboring table awkwardly approached, raising his cup in embarrassment. “Brother, may I have a word with you…”

Xu Xing looked up, noticing the man meant no harm. “What is it?”

The swordsman leaned in and whispered a few words. Xu Xing smiled and nodded. “Rest assured, we swordsmen don’t accept charity.”

It turned out the two had dropped their spatial pouches and couldn’t pay their bill, so they sought Xu Xing’s help. What puzzled him was why he had been chosen—did he look especially wealthy?

“Because it’s about to rain, and you haven’t brought an umbrella. Surely you wouldn’t let such a beautiful lady get drenched?” the swordsman explained.

Upon hearing this, Xu Xing laughed and settled their bill. The swordsmen departed, but not without sharing a useful tip.

Xu Xing mused aloud, “So that’s why all the inns are fully booked—tomorrow is the grand recruitment of the three major sects.”

Not long after the swordsmen left, rain indeed began to fall, and the umbrella proved its worth.

Everything went smoothly after that. Xu Xing held a bamboo umbrella above Zi Yan as they walked together.

As the rain fell, laughter echoed through the night—some with sorrow, some with joy.

So it was that, beneath the smoky rain of Lantern City, one man bore the umbrella, and two walked together.