Prince Xiao's Manor was wiped out.
From top to bottom, not one living soul was left in the whole of Prince Xiao's Manor.
Xiao Jing was the last to die.
With his own eyes he watched the son he had pinned his hopes on have his arms and legs hacked off and his eyeballs gouged out.
Xiao Jing watched as Jiang Qingyi stamped his son's double pupils to pulp under her foot, and then her final sword stroke took the boy's head off.
He watched, and he listened, as Jiang Qingyi ran slaughter through the Xiao estate and spared not a single person—exactly as he himself had once done to the Jiang estate.
When only Xiao Jing was left, Jiang Qingyi hauled him out of the Xiao estate and hung him in the air above the imperial capital, and there, in front of the whole city's populace, she carved the flesh off his body cut after cut!
By the time Jiang Qingyi left, all that remained of Xiao Jing was a dripping skeleton.
Her vengeance taken, the knot that had bound Jiang Qingyi for years came loose; her thoughts ran clear, and she stepped into the Jade Unpolished realm.
Having regained the sword bone, Jiang Qingyi went from the Golden Core realm to the Nascent Soul realm within a single day, and from the Nascent Soul realm to the Jade Unpolished realm after that.
As for whether anyone would ever match it—that, he could not say.
But without question, this was a miracle without precedent.
Back at the Dragon Spring Sword Sect, Jiang Qingyi kept on killing.
From Ye Sandao's own mouth she had learned that the Dragon Spring Sword Sect and Prince Xiao's Manor were in bed together, between them holding the whole of Liang Kingdom in their grip.
It was the sect master of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect who had told Xiao Jing that Jiang Qingyi possessed an innate sword bone.
This time, though, Jiang Qingyi did not put the Dragon Spring Sword Sect to the sword root and branch.
She left behind a single sentence: "Those who submit to me live; those who defy me die."
And of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect cultivators who defied her, not one was left alive.
After killing the sect master of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect, Jiang Qingyi lit blaze after blaze.
In the end, Jiang Qingyi sat in the courtyard on Lingqian Peak and watched the entire Dragon Spring Sword Sect sink into a sea of fire.
When the fires burned themselves out, the Dragon Spring Sword Sect had ceased to exist.
In the end, only five hundred cultivators of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect followed Jiang Qingyi.
"From today on, this place is called the Myriad Sword Sect."
Facing those five hundred disciples, Jiang Qingyi spoke slowly.
"The Myriad Sword Sect..."
Xiao Mo thought of what Yan Shan'ao had said before: that an Elder Huang of the Myriad Sword Sect would be coming to Liang Kingdom, and that Xiao Mo was to receive him in person.
But that was all it was—a passing thought.
As Xiao Mo saw it, the two sects could not possibly be one and the same; they simply shared a name.
With a Jade Unpolished powerhouse like Jiang Qingyi at its head, the Myriad Sword Sect grew fast, and before long it had become the foremost sect in Liang Kingdom.
Jiang Qingyi's cultivation realm climbed higher and higher.
More and more people looked up to her.
And to the disciples of the Myriad Sword Sect, their own sect master was not only immensely powerful but breathtakingly beautiful.
With looks that could topple a nation, the sect master had even been entered on the Beauty Roll kept by Tianji City.
There was no ranking of first and second on the Beauty Roll.
But in many hearts, their own sect master ought to be first.
And yet this woman who had the whole world at her feet had never once smiled.
Lingqian Peak had once been an ordinary peak of the old Dragon Spring Sect; now it was the main peak of the Myriad Sword Sect.
But there were only two wooden huts on Lingqian Peak.
A male elder who admired Jiang Qingyi, hoping to win her favor, proposed tearing the huts down and building a palace in their place.
That male elder was cut down on the spot, in front of everyone, by a single stroke of Jiang Qingyi's sword.
From then on, everyone knew Lingqian Peak was not to be touched—not a blade of grass, not a tree.
Lingqian Peak had to stay exactly as it had been.
One year. Five years. Ten.
As an Observer, Xiao Mo watched Qingyi cultivate day after day, and day after day search for a way to revive a soul.
But time after time, Jiang Qingyi came back empty-handed.
Apart from cultivating and searching for arts that could revive a soul, the thing she did most was sit in the courtyard at the top of Lingqian Peak, staring into nothing.
She read book after book and tried method after method, all to bring back one person.
Then one day, she came upon the Sustaining Heaven Formula.
At last, she understood everything.
So her master's injuries had been because of her.
The reason she could cultivate at all was that her master had damaged his own root bones and cut short his own lifespan to forcibly "sustain" the so-called "heaven."
Only, every time her master finished using the Sustaining Heaven Formula on her, he masked his face with a spell.
The reason her master would only go to Chen Yun for treatment was that he did not want anyone else to know.
And Chen Yun, owing her master a debt for saving her life, would never breathe a word.
That day, the girl tore the Sustaining Heaven Formula to shreds, and with a single sweep of her sword she cut a mountain peak to pieces.
The disciples of the Myriad Sword Sect shook with fright. They all knew who had done it, and not one dared make a sound.
They all knew their sect master's temper was foul again...
And just then, a woman came to Lingqian Peak.
She was the only one permitted to come to the summit.
She had once been a deacon in the Medicine Hall of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect.
Now she was an elder of the Myriad Sword Sect's Medicine Hall.
"What have you come here for?"
Jiang Qingyi sat on a stone bench and tilted her head back for a mouthful of wine.
She had never liked drinking before, but now she loved it.
Her favorite was the osmanthus brew Auntie Wang made in Myriad Sword Town.
Chen Yun walked into the courtyard, looked at this woman whose stubbornness bordered on madness, and said calmly, "I've come to take some of his clothes."
Jiang Qingyi lifted her head, her eyes like swords, as if they would run Chen Yun through. "What do you want his clothes for?"
"To build him a cenotaph," Chen Yun said, without a flicker of fear.
The words were barely out before Xuanshuang, the longsword in Jiang Qingyi's hand, was already at Chen Yun's throat.
Jiang Qingyi's eyes were bloodshot. "He isn't dead!"
Chen Yun was not the least bit afraid. "He is dead."
"Shut up! I say he isn't dead!" Jiang Qingyi was on the edge of madness; the longsword advanced an inch, and just as last time, blood slid down the blade.
"Fifteen years have passed since you wiped out the Xiao family. He has been dead fifteen years. Let him rest in the ground—even if it's only his clothes."
Jiang Qingyi's eyes narrowed to slits. "Do you really think I don't dare kill you? Do you know that you are the one I hate most?"
"I know." Chen Yun nodded. "Truth is, I hate you too. But the one he doted on most was you."
Chen Yun said no more. She took a step forward, and Jiang Qingyi's longsword drew back.
Chen Yun kept walking; Jiang Qingyi's longsword kept drawing back.
In the end, the hand holding the longsword dropped to Jiang Qingyi's side, and Chen Yun walked past her.
Chen Yun went into Xiao Mo's room and took a few sets of clothes.
Before leaving, Chen Yun set down a letter. "A girl named Xiachan asked me to give you this. She says it was written fifteen years ago."
Chen Yun left.
In the empty courtyard, only Jiang Qingyi remained, head bowed, sword hanging low, her dimmed eyes betraying nothing of what she was thinking.
Who knew how long she stayed like that. Then Jiang Qingyi raised her head and looked at the letter on the table.
Like a walking corpse, she went over and tore the envelope open.
The instant she saw the letter, Jiang Qingyi's eyes wavered.
This was... her master's handwriting...
[Silly disciple, by the time you read this letter, your master will already be gone, and the sword bone should have been returned to you.
After your master is gone, I expect you'll do something foolish.
You may even be thinking about bringing your master back.
But silly girl, the dead are dead. The dead cannot come back to life—and with a shattered soul, even less.
Qingyi, let me tell you something.
That last shooting star—the wish your master made was not for you to become a great sword immortal.
Your master's wish was that no matter what you face, you can live on happily.
You said you would make your master's wish come true.
So don't you go lying to your master.]
"Master... Master..."
Jiang Qingyi knelt on the ground clutching the envelope and wept aloud, like the girl of fourteen who had just come up the mountain that year.
[Ten seconds remain. The system is about to finish its settlement; the Host is about to exit the Hundred Lives Book. Ten... nine... eight... three...]
As the countdown sounded in Xiao Mo's mind,
Xiao Mo knew there was no way he could interfere with any of it, but he still stepped forward, crouched in front of her, and reached out to stroke her hair, just as he had on the night of the shooting stars when the girl was fourteen.
"Qingyi, your master is leaving."
[0...]
In the instant Xiao Mo scattered away with the wind,
her master's voice sounded at Jiang Qingyi's ear, and she snapped her head up.
"Master! Is that you?"
"Master!"
"Answer me!"
"Are you still here?"
"Xiao Mo!"
"Come out!"
The girl ran across the summit, shouting and shouting, but no one answered...
"Master... come out..."
Until sundown, until the stars hung in the sky.
The girl, her tears long since run dry, crouched down and hugged herself tightly.
A shooting star streaked across the sky.
"Master...
Qingyi...
misses you so much..."