To be unable to distinguish good from evil, right from wrong—that was what it meant to be “foolish.”
Moreover, this man was famously known as the “Weapon-Forging Fool.” It was said that in his eyes there were neither family nor friends. He spent every day immersed in the Dao of weapon forging. In pursuit of creating peerless divine weapons, there was nothing he would not attempt and nothing he would not sacrifice.
He gave off an air completely detached from the mortal world. Whether it was his personality, his appearance, or the flowing robes he wore, everything about him radiated unmistakable aloofness. Throughout the entire Chonghua Imperial Capital, almost no one wished to speak with him—and, naturally, he had no desire to waste words on anyone else.
The only person who stubbornly clung to him was—
“Fourth Uncle!!“
Yue Chenqing cried out in delighted surprise and hurried toward him, intending to throw his arms around him.
The “Immortal Fool,” Murong Chuyi, quietly stepped back, avoiding his eager little nephew. Drawing the horsetail whisk tucked in the crook of his arm, he flicked it once. Gale-force spiritual wind erupted, swirling into a ring of white mist around Li Qingqian, trapping him with effortless ease.
“Fourth Uncle! Fourth Uncle! You’re finally here! So you’ve been in the capital! That’s wonderful! That’s wonderful!”
Mo Xi and Murong Lian both thought Yue Chenqing rather pitiful.
Like an overjoyed puppy, he showered Murong Chuyi with excitement, affection, and dependence.
Yet Murong Chuyi behaved as though he neither heard nor saw him. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the sword spirit.
His pale amber eyes swept calmly over Li Qingqian before he said,
“A fine sword.”
Apparently, in his eyes, there was no Li Qingqian at all.
Only the sword Hongshao.
“What a pity.”
With another sweep of his whisk, the blood curse that Yue Chenqing had exhausted himself drawing suddenly reappeared beneath Li Qingqian’s feet.
Murong Chuyi recited in a clear, indifferent voice,
“Your sovereign’s blood enters the furnace.
Your sovereign’s bones become the sword.
Three feet of water within the sheath,
Once the beloved of dreams.
Your soul is buried in cold iron;
I would become the lamp of the underworld…
If the demonic blade is but an inn,
Why not return to the mortal world?”
Yue Chenqing had long since grown accustomed to his fourth uncle ignoring him. He leaned in again and said,
“That’s exactly what I was chanting just now. It didn’t work—”
Murong Chuyi didn’t even blink as he finished the incantation.
“If the demonic blade is but an inn, why not return to the mortal world.“
Yue Chenqing stared.
“Wait… wasn’t it supposed to be a divine weapon?”
But Li Qingsu had already twisted into an expression of unbearable agony. The Hongshao Sword in his arms erupted with black qi. After a brief moment of stillness, the blade suddenly shattered, exploding into countless glittering fragments.
The sword-destroying incantation that required Yue Chenqing to recite every line thirty times…
Murong Chuyi had accomplished with a single recitation.
Only then did Yue Chenqing realize.
“Ah… right… This sword… this sword belongs to the Liao Kingdom. It’s not a divine weapon—it… it’s a demonic weapon… So the last line should have been…”
Murong Chuyi lowered his pale brown eyes toward the shattered remains of the sword spirit.
After a moment, his elegant brows slowly furrowed.
How strange.
Once a weapon was destroyed, its sword spirit should immediately dissipate.
Yet Li Qingsu’s sword spirit had not vanished. It merely faded from solid form into something ethereal—
Before he could finish the thought, a mass of black qi suddenly shot skyward, bursting past everyone and tearing through the cave entrance.
Yue Chenqing shouted,
“Fourth Uncle! He escaped!”
“I’m not blind. I saw.”
“Then chase him!”
Murong Chuyi glanced toward the rapidly disappearing black mist.
“Can’t catch him.”
Yue Chenqing was stunned by his fourth uncle’s blunt, straightforward honesty.
Murong Chuyi raised a hand and cast another spell. The surviving hilt of the Hongshao Sword floated into the air. Pinching it between two fingers, he lowered his eyes to examine it carefully.
Yue Chenqing chattered on.
“What’s going on? Why is part of the hilt still left? Shouldn’t it have disappeared completely? And why didn’t the sword spirit scatter immediately?”
Still studying the broken sword, Murong Chuyi replied,
“His obsession is too deep. He has become a Sword Demon. Unless that obsession is resolved, he will not disappear.”
Yue Chenqing cried out,
“Oh no! Fourth Uncle! He said he wanted to go out and kill someone! Doesn’t that mean unless he kills the person he wants to kill, he’ll never disappear?”
Mo Xi asked,
“Is there any other solution?”
“There is.”
Murong Chuyi tossed the remaining fragment of Hongshao into his white silk storage pouch before answering,
“Find a way to make him believe that this is no longer his obsession.”
Having said that, he turned and walked toward the cave entrance.
After a few steps, he stopped.
“If you wish to stop him, then please accompany me back to the Yue Residence first.”
Yue Chenqing hurried after him.
“Fourth Uncle, there’s no need to be so polite with me. I’ll go home with you.”
Murong Chuyi’s white robes floated like drifting clouds. The ribbons on his crown fluttered softly, making him appear every bit the transcendent immortal walking upon rippling waves.
Yet he seemed selectively deaf.
He did not even spare Yue Chenqing a glance.
“…”
Watching the scene before him, Mo Xi sighed inwardly.
Human affection truly was the most unreasonable thing in the world.
Jiang Yexue treated Yue Chenqing—his younger half-brother—with such kindness. He was gentle and considerate, always thinking of Yue Chenqing first.
Yet Yue Chenqing had never respected him.
Nor had he ever liked him.
As for Murong Chuyi…
His attitude toward Yue Chenqing had always been terrible.
Toward others, he could merely be called distant and cold.
Toward Yue Chenqing, however, it bordered on downright cruel.
Yet Yue Chenqing worshipped him, loved following him everywhere, and constantly chased after him just to talk.
After all these years…
That had never changed.
Unable to stop himself, Mo Xi thought again of Gu Mang.
He had been disappointed in him time and again and had already declared that he had given up.
But whether those feelings from the past still remained buried deep within his heart…
Even he himself could no longer tell.
The Yue Residence was one of the most mysterious estates in all of Chonghua.
Within this already mysterious manor, the most mysterious places all belonged to Murong Chuyi.
If ranked by difficulty of entry, they would probably be as follows:
Murong Chuyi’s courtyard.
Murong Chuyi’s study.
Murong Chuyi’s bedroom.
Murong Chuyi’s forging workshop.
The last of these was as impregnable as an iron fortress.
Other than the Immortal Fool himself, no one had ever set foot inside.
Because of this, a saying had spread throughout the capital.
There were two places within the borders of Chonghua that even His Majesty could not easily enter.
One was Apothecary Jiang’s alchemy room.
The other was Murong Chuyi’s forging chamber.
The alchemy room was filled with deadly poison.
As for the forging chamber…
Its mechanisms were so intricate that even if His Majesty spent several hundred years studying them, he would never solve them.
Murong Chuyi’s attainments in weapon forging were astonishingly profound.
Even Yue Juntian himself had never managed to determine the limits of his true ability.
Yue Juntian certainly wanted to test him.
But every single time, Murong Chuyi shut him out without exception.
Eventually, Yue Juntian could no longer save face, so he would tell others,
“Chuyi is still young. It’s understandable that he doesn’t dare exchange pointers with senior grandmasters. Hahaha.”
Murong Chuyi let him say whatever he pleased.
He simply did not care what others thought.
His title of “Immortal Fool” had not been earned for nothing.
Murong Chuyi loved nothing except his weapon schematics.
His obsession bordered on madness.
As for reputation…
Friends…
Relatives…
They could all get as far away from him as possible.
Upon arriving at the residence, they happened to encounter Yue Chenqing’s eldest uncle preparing to leave.
His eyesight was rather poor.
From a distance, he recognized only Yue Chenqing. Immediately, he raised his voice and scolded,
“You little brat! What kind of nonsense is this? Where have you run off to? I was just about to go looking for you!”
Yue Chenqing hurriedly explained,
“Uncle, I was carrying out His Majesty’s assignment—”
“You little squirt whose feathers haven’t even grown in yet, what assignment could you possibly—”
Before he finished speaking, he caught sight of Murong Chuyi approaching beneath the moonlight.
His eyes widened.
“You?”
It was no wonder he was shocked.
Although Murong Chuyi lived in the Yue Residence, he almost never crossed paths with anyone.
Unless someone deliberately waited for him, it was entirely possible not to see him for two or three months.
Yet now he had actually appeared.
And behind him followed Yue Chenqing and several others.
That made the sight even more unbelievable.
Uncle Yue stood there tongue-tied for quite a while before finally blurting,
“Y-you… why did you go outside?”
Murong Chuyi actually answered him.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t anything pleasant.
He replied coldly,
“Was I under house arrest?”
“…”
Uncle Yue was a hot-tempered, straightforward man.
His face darkened immediately.
“Watch your mouth! You’re only an in-law! Give you an inch and you think you can open a dye shop?!”
Yue Chenqing quickly interjected,
“Uncle, don’t be angry! Fourth Uncle arrived just in time today. Otherwise that flower thief probably would’ve killed me!”
Only then did Uncle Yue snort loudly through his nose and reluctantly swallow his irritation after glancing at the snow-white Murong Chuyi.
A moment later, he squinted his blurry eyes, trying to make out the figures behind them.
“And these gentlemen are…?”
Murong Lian gave a cold laugh.
“Old Second Yue, stop tinkering with those little mechanisms of yours. You can’t even recognize people a few meters away. You’re practically blind.”
Hearing the voice, Uncle Yue was startled.
“Lord Wangshu?!”
Murong Lian chuckled maliciously.
“Mm. And Lord Xihe is here too.”
“What?!”
Although Uncle Yue also belonged to one of the highest-ranking noble families, compared with the illustrious Lords Xihe and Wangshu, he was still a tier below.
He hurried down the steps to greet them.
“Oh dear, my deepest apologies! Look at these old eyes of mine. They’re practically blind already. Please forgive my failure to welcome you properly!”
Only after getting close did he notice the towering Bamboo Warrior standing at the very back.
Bound to it was the unconscious Gu Mang.
The empire’s most wanted criminal had appeared before him in such a bizarre posture.
Uncle Yue could only stand there dumbfounded, mouth hanging open as he stared up at the unconscious legendary beast of the altar.
Murong Lian hooked the stem of his smoking pipe around Uncle Yue’s neck, snapping him back to his senses.
Grinning, he said,
“Old Second Yue, remember to visit Apothecary Jiang. Illness should be treated early.”
“Y-Yes, yes! I’ll ask Doctor Jiang to make me a pair of crystal spectacles right away!”
Murong Lian released him with a smile.
“Good boy. By the way, I’m craving a smoke. Could you make a trip back to my residence and fetch me a new pipe? Bring some Fleeting Dream as well.”
Old Second Yue had barely nodded twice when Murong Chuyi said flatly,
“My courtyard forbids open flames.”
Murong Lian blinked.
“Why?”
“It will explode.”
“…”
In the end, Murong Lian could not suppress his curiosity.
He could always indulge his Fleeting Dream after returning home.
But the residence of the “Immortal Fool”…
Even His Majesty himself could not enter it easily.
Suppressing the craving burning in his chest, he followed Murong Chuyi through a long corridor until they reached the deepest northwestern corner of the Yue Residence.
They stopped before a tightly shut circular sandalwood moon gate.
Using his horsetail whisk, Murong Chuyi tapped the Seven-Star Big Dipper formation embedded in the door four times in the order of Yuheng, Tianshu, Yaoguang, and Tianquan.
Four spirit stones clicked crisply and slowly sank inward.
Then, where the stones had been, four palm-sized wooden dolls emerged.
Opening their tiny mouths, they spoke in unison.
“Who returns?”
Murong Chuyi answered simply,
“I do.”
A delicately carved key appeared in the palm of each little wooden doll.
They asked again,
“Which will you choose?”
Murong Chuyi casually picked one of the keys.
The little wooden dolls disappeared.
Yue Chenqing’s eyes grew as round as bronze bells.
He muttered to himself nonstop, apparently trying to memorize everything by force.
Absentmindedly twirling his smoking pipe, Murong Lian snorted from the side.
“There’s no point memorizing it. Next time, it may not be the same sequence. Immortal Fool, am I right?”
Murong Chuyi did not answer.
He inserted the key into the lock.
A series of heavy clicks echoed through the air.
With a thunderous rumble, the thick sandalwood doors slowly swung open.
“Come in.”
he said calmly.