Old Chen spoke in hushed tones, eyes cast downward, "A swordmaster unparalleled through time, rising above the world's dust. Mortals like us can only gaze in admiration. Ahead, the zenith of the immortal path is unseen; behind, no trace of those who ventured before. Only now does the sword's aura dominate across the epochs."0

As he spoke, sweat beaded on his brow, and he discarded the black sword.0

Qing Mu's eyes widened in disbelief. Had his master not tossed the sword, he might've taken those words to heart. Now, however, it looked as though his master was overwhelmed with a desperate urge to survive. It dawned on Qing Mu swiftly: This must be the same immortal who once left his master torn between life and death, the mere sight of a sword making him sick to his stomach. She had returned, sending shockwaves of fear through his master.0

Wang Xuan, clearly irritated, turned to his old colleague. "Old Chen, what's with the theatrics? You've spoken every thought I had!" 0

He chided, "Stay composed, Old Chen. Refrain from speaking out of turn."0

But Old Chen paid him no mind. Hastily, he kicked the black...0