With the Blade

The only thing Shan Bing didn’t expect was that he himself would have such a day.

Indeed, he could try, try to draw the sword, but it’s no different from a gambler, betting his life without even knowing what he’s betting on.

Is this kind of thing really doable?

Does he really want to bet on this sword?

"What are you going to do?"

As Shan Bing continued to hesitate, the shadowed figure in front of him finally spoke.

"Are you going to stop me?"

Shan Bing’s hand trembled ever more violently.

He didn’t dare.

He couldn’t.

Both his rationale and body were suppressing him, telling him that he must not make a move regardless of the circumstances.

"I..."

Behind the shield, Shan Bing finally let go of the sword’s hilt.

Reason told him that he couldn’t bet; if he lost, everything would be gone.

But before he could draw his sword, the shadow in front of him had already drawn his.

"Are you going to stop me? Just you?"

Underneath the heavy hat, Huang Tian’s expression was already unpleasant.

Being called out on his identity was one thing; plans not keeping up with changes, although not common, were not unheard of—yet this time, he couldn’t endure it.

Isn’t this the Shan Bing? The one that used to grovel at his feet, an ant-like existence, daring to draw a sword against him?

What is this? Does this thing deserve it?

If he had to endure again and again in the face of such a thing, his mindset would likely degrade when it came time to truly act—in comparison to giving his all, having the advantage of knowing the enemy is indeed not that important; simply cutting down this ant that dared to challenge him and fighting straightforwardly was also an option.

Of course, more importantly, this would provide clarity of mind.

With this thought, he swung down his sword.

No need for any special moves, no need to concentrate his energy or spirit—it’s just an ant to be squashed, as simple as swatting a mosquito—do you need to shout when stepping on an ant? Absolutely not.

All that was needed was to squash it; this was his strength, and his self...

"Pierce the Sun!"

A great sun blossomed at the street corner.

Immediately afterwards, a sharp blade pierced through the sun with a single strike.

"...Huh?"

Divided into two halves, Huang Tian looked at his split body, so absurd a perspective it made him dizzy.

But, this was not the end.

"Pierce the Sun! Pierce the Sun! Pierce the Sun!"

The splendid sun rose again and again, and the sharp blade swung again and again.

"Pierce the Sun! I am the elephant! I am the elephant! Pierce the Sun! I am the pierce! Elephant strike!"

The Short Sword in his hand swung like a kitchen knife, and the panicked Shan Bing couldn’t even speak coherently. He only knew to swing the blade again and again, even though he couldn’t quite tell what he was slashing at.

He only knew that he had to cut out.

In the past, he wouldn’t have done such a thing no matter what. When the shadow of death clasped his throat, he would just stand there like a chicken being choked—of course, if facing those less skilled than himself, he could still attack with the momentum of a tiger descending a mountain, but all of this hinges on knowing he could win.

If he knew he couldn’t win, would he still move?

In the past, perhaps not.

But now...

"Try again."

That voice clamored in his heart.

"Try again."

"Try again, try again."

"Try again, try again, try again."

"Again, again, again, again!"

Like someone walking on the edge of a cliff, finally pushed from behind, in the face of this inertia brought by habit, even the choked chicken finally started struggling with its legs—even if this struggle was ungainly, or even ineffective, the survival will penetrating life itself, or perhaps something more profound than survival instinct, finally began to manipulate his body.

Describing it as manipulation, naturally, because at this moment Shan Bing himself was almost unconscious, the excessive pressure had made his brain completely stall. He had almost no capacity for thought, only mechanically, instinctively, swinging the sword in his hand, again and again.

Until he came to his senses.

"...Huh?"

Seeing the blood-stained Short Sword in his hand and the bloody mess of fragments on the ground, Shan Bing suddenly felt a moment of disorientation.

Did he... do that?

What exactly did he just do?

"Good!"

Just as Shan Bing was swaying, someone suddenly shouted beside him.

"You did well! Well done!"

Strong arms supported Shan Bing’s collapsing body, the dwarf who sold biscuits, followed by the passerby whose wallet was stolen also supported him. More and more people gathered around, supporting Shan Bing, who was about to fall, unfazed by the blood on him.

This was warmth Shan Bing had never felt before.

Previously, even when killing those monsters and thugs, people still avoided him like the plague, maybe in their eyes he was no different from those thugs—but this time felt different, he actually sensed some warmth, some heartwarming concern.

Perhaps because of this warm concern, Shan Bing’s frail body gradually began to gain strength.

"I’m... fine."

Standing firm, Shan Bing first assured them of his safety, then promptly began examining the body on the ground.

Calling it a body was actually inaccurate; strictly speaking, the pile of goods on the ground was more like minced meat—albeit not expertly minced, with tendons unsliced, and even chopped bones mixed in, and after uncovering the hat split into three, Shan Bing even pieced together most of a facial skin.

And upon seeing the patched-together facial skin, Shan Bing found it somewhat laughable.

"What is this."

Sheathing the Short Sword, Shan Bing chuckled wryly.

"Was I just scaring myself?"

Indeed, it seemed he’d been frightening himself, because the patched face didn’t resemble Huang Tian at all—in other words, what he encountered was possibly just an ordinary Jianghu Swordsman.

An ordinary Swordsman could frighten him into not daring to act, meaning he indeed was still lacking.

"Ah..."

Reflecting on his hesitant state earlier, Shan Bing couldn’t help but sigh.

Thinking about it, what sort of character is Huang Tian, akin to a divine monster; how would he appear roadside eating biscuits without paying, even stealing wallets?

Moreover, if it really were Huang Tian, he’d probably not have even had the opportunity to draw his sword; he’d have been dead on first contact.

However, if it were really Huang Tian...

"Try again."

That voice echoed in his heart once more.

But this time, Shan Bing didn’t negate that voice.

If it were really Huang Tian, then try again, although it might result in death, there’s no need to live a life in fear because of this dread.

So after all this time, why hasn’t Huang Tian returned?

——————————

"Huang Tian hasn’t arrived yet?"

Du Chengfeng, sunbathing at the entrance of the imperial kitchen, looked up at the sky, having just finished eating and lying down to pick his teeth.

He’d been waiting for a month, and Huang Tian still hadn’t appeared; what was going on?

"He must be plotting some bigger conspiracy."

Du Chengfeng thought this must be the reason; otherwise, he should have been hunted down long ago, not just lying there sunbathing.

"He will definitely come, he will definitely come again, I can’t let him not find me."

With this in mind, Du Chengfeng decided to keep waiting.