Volume One: The Emperor’s Sword Chapter 7: Not of Human Form
Question: Where are the most eggs?
Answer: In the chicken coop.
Since it dares to call itself the Sword Palace, it must naturally be a palace of swords, an ocean of swords!
For Yun Que, who urgently needed sword energy, the Sword Palace was the perfect supply station.
He planned to set out today; the sooner he reached the Sword Palace, the better.
After regaining consciousness in his spiritual sea, Yun Que first searched the Medicine Daoist from head to toe.
He was bitterly disappointed.
This fellow’s pockets were cleaner than his face; he didn’t even have a single copper coin on him, let alone any spiritual elixirs or magical tools.
Old He’s remnant soul appeared in the corner of the room, twisted and flickering, as if it could dissipate at any moment.
“Young master, are you all right?”
“I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“That’s good. I’m truly useless, unable to help you.”
“It’s not your fault. This man was very powerful.”
Staring at the fading ghost servant, Yun Que suddenly thought of something and pointed at the Medicine Daoist’s corpse.
“Since you are a remnant soul, why not try possessing this body?”
Old He immediately obeyed, transforming into black mist and merging into the Medicine Daoist’s body.
“Young master, your suggestion is brilliant! With this body to inhabit, I can survive a bit longer.”
Old He, now controlling the Medicine Daoist, paced the room with evident joy.
Old He had been his father’s subordinate, spending five years to deliver the Nine Tribulations Sword—his loyalty beyond question.
He could be trusted.
Yun Que let Old He familiarize himself with the new body, then sat cross-legged, sensing the presence of his sword meridians.
Sword meridians were similar to ordinary meridians but completely different—exceptionally sharp, like slender swords embedded within his flesh.
The sword energy he had absorbed from the two sword talismans was flowing through these meridians, gradually being assimilated.
Yun Que calculated that the sword energy in those talismans would last at most a day or two.
Once the energy was gone, the sword meridians would start absorbing his life force!
How utterly unreasonable!
The Sword Palace was in the imperial city, at least seven days’ journey from Yanmen Town. Unless he could fly, there was no way to get there in time!
By then, with no sword energy left, he would be finished!
Dawn had broken. The maids brought a sumptuous breakfast, but Yun Que had no appetite.
If things got desperate, he could only wait until Hu Tieshan was away and teach the chubby boy a new game called “ransacking the house.”
His thoughts drifted wildly.
“Young master, there’s something strange about this body!”
Old He had walked around the mansion and hurried back.
“This body isn’t human,” Old He declared. “It has no internal organs!”
Yun Que was taken aback.
He examined the body himself, even cut the Medicine Daoist’s arm with a dagger. Not only was there no blood, but a faint herbal fragrance wafted out.
“Could this be a clone? Where’s the original body?”
From the Medicine Daoist’s desperate attempt at body-snatching, Yun Que could guess the truth.
The Medicine Daoist’s original body was likely already dead.
His primordial spirit hid inside this clone, grooming Chu Xi as a vessel, until he met Yun Que and died to the Forgetting River Sword.
The thought made Yun Que’s eyes light up.
If even this clone was so powerful—able to break sword talismans barehanded—then the Medicine Daoist’s original body must have been stronger still.
And a powerful cultivator would never be without treasures!
The clone might be penniless, but the Medicine Daoist’s legacy was most likely hidden with his original corpse.
Before long, a carriage rolled out of the marquis’s residence, left Yanmen Town, and headed northwest.
The Apothecary’s Temple was thirty miles outside Yanmen Town.
Its incense burned prosperously. On every festival, many wealthy families came to pray and offer thanks, but commoners were never seen, as the incense fees were exorbitant.
At the Apothecary’s Temple, even a single stick of incense cost ten taels of silver!
Despite the cost, there were plenty who could afford it.
Inside the main hall, a dignified and elegant woman was devoutly making a vow, bowing several times before statues of the Three Pure Ones, then inserting ten sticks of incense into the censer.
This one prayer alone cost her a hundred silver taels!
Beside her stood a spirited young girl—Han Jiao—who had passed the Sword Testing Tower’s examination with Yun Que.
“May the Dao Ancestor bless us. Our Han family has finally produced another disciple of the Sword Palace.”
The woman gazed at Han Jiao with doting pride. “Jiao’er, you must make me proud. Become a true disciple of the Sword Palace like your cousin, so I won’t always be looked down upon by the other branches.”
“Don’t worry, mother. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s my good daughter. A heroine among women—your future will be bright! Oh, and after you enter the Sword Palace, remember to stay away from that boy from the Yun family. We mustn’t get involved with their bad luck.”
Since the sword trial, Han Jiao had grown increasingly uncomfortable with slanders against Yun Que, even from her mother.
Hesitating, she said, “Mother, Yun Que helped me in the Sword Testing Tower. Without him, I might not have qualified.”
“What! He helped you?” Her mother’s face changed dramatically. “He’s a jinx—anyone connected to the Yun family is doomed to bad luck…”
Before she could finish, several people emerged from behind the statues—the leader was Chu Heng.
“I knew it! That little beast from the Yun family couldn’t have harmed my son alone. So the Han family is involved too! We’ll settle this account right now!”
Chu Heng’s eyes were bloodshot as he glared viciously at the Han mother and daughter.
The woman was startled, then retorted angrily, “Chu Heng, stop slandering us! If your son was useless, don’t blame others!”
Smack!
Before she could finish, a slap sent her sprawling to the ground; her well-maintained face instantly swelled.
Usually pampered and respected, the woman was stunned senseless, unable to react.
Han Jiao, seeing her mother struck, tried to retaliate, but before she could draw her magical tool, a sword was already at her throat.
Her opponent was so fast she had no chance to resist—she was completely at their mercy.
Feeling the sword energy at her throat, Han Jiao gasped, “Qi Refining stage! A Chu family cultivator!”
Though she had passed the Sword Testing Tower’s exam, she hadn’t begun formal cultivation; she was still just a martial artist, no match for a cultivator who could wield sword energy.
The attacker was Chu Heng’s own brother, a lean man in his forties with a sinister gaze that lingered over the Han women.
“The Han family’s magic tool is quite decent. We’ll take it.”
Chu Heng snatched Han Jiao’s artifact and handed it to the gaunt man. With a chilling smile, he said, “Madam Han’s figure is famed throughout Yanmen Town—I’ve coveted it for years. Today I’ll finally enjoy it.”
“How dare you!” The woman, clutching her face, cried out in panic, “This is the Apothecary’s Temple! You can’t do this!”
“Can’t do this?”
Chu Heng sneered, “You’re the only one I dare to do this to. As for your daughter, she’s a perfect offering for the abbot. Let me tell you a secret: over the years, I’ve delivered at least a hundred women to this temple!”
Hearing this, the Han women’s faces turned ashen.
So the Apothecary’s Temple was a den of evil!
Han Jiao now recalled the rumors she’d heard of missing women from nearby villages, but had never paid them any mind.
She never imagined those missing women had been abducted by Chu Heng—by now, the temple was surely filled with bones.
“I knew we shouldn’t have gotten involved with the Yun family. Whoever does is doomed,” Madam Han murmured in despair.
“Our Han family won’t let you get away with this!” Han Jiao spat in hatred.
“Don’t worry, your family won’t find a clue. With the recent bandit troubles near town, you can rest in peace!”
As Chu Heng pounced on the woman, suddenly the temple doors swung open and someone walked in.
Chu Heng was bewildered.
He was well acquainted with the temple’s people—no outsiders should have been allowed in.
Turning around, he was overjoyed, bursting into laughter.
The newcomers were none other than the abbot of the Apothecary’s Temple, the Medicine Daoist, and Yun Que.
“Master, your work is flawless! My son’s death is finally avenged!”
Chu Heng was so elated he could hardly contain himself, howling, “Yun Que! You never expected this, did you? Today I’ll skin you alive with my own hands!”