Chapter 26: The Sword Master’s Name Revealed

These words stunned everyone.

Wen Shaoqing instinctively tried to struggle, but the pressure of the Tribulation Transcending stage immediately pressed down, rendering him immobile. His expression changed slightly, and all the Qing Le Palace cultivators around him were equally shocked.

Xue Xueran had sent word that Hua Xiangwan had only brought back a Qi Refining stage cultivator. How could he be a Tribulation Transcending stage cultivator?!

Yet the unrestrained pressure permeated the surroundings, leaving no room for doubt. The bloodlust of years of killing mingled with the yellow sand before Hehuan Palace. The young man pressed a peach branch against Wen Shaoqing’s neck, quietly watching Hua Xiangwan.

Everyone realized he wasn’t joking; he truly would kill Wen Shaoqing.

“Wanwan,” he asked again, “Can I kill him?”

Hearing this, Wen Shaoqing looked at Hua Xiangwan coldly and raised his voice:
“Awan?”

His words startled her. She looked at Xie Changji and quickly spoke to stop him:
“He’s already been taught a lesson, so let him go.”

Xie Changji didn’t speak, but through the yellow sand he saw the worry and tension in Hua Xiangwan’s eyes—the same look she gave whenever she saw him wounded.

He stared at her for a long moment, until she emphasized softly:
“Changji.”

Hearing this, he lowered his eyes slightly, then put away the peach branch and turned back to her. As soon as he turned, his aura subsided.

Wen Shaoqing, helped up by his cultivators, stared at Xie Changji’s back and asked in a low voice:
“May I ask your honorable name?”

“Heavenly Sword Sect,” Xie Changji stopped, his voice steady, “Qingheng.”

The name stunned Wen Shaoqing.

Qingheng of the Heavenly Sword Sect? Xie Changji, sword master of the Heart-Questioning Sword, the strongest in Yunlai, the man said to destroy a sect with a single sword? How could he possibly be here, returning with Hua Xiangwan as her husband?

Whispers rippled through the crowd. The Heart-Questioning Sword lineage rarely appeared in public. Few knew its secrets. Yet here he was, crimson-robed, calm, and deadly.

“Shouldn’t you be guarding the Realm of Life and Death? Why are you here?” Wen Shaoqing pressed.

“The Otherworld has been pacified. Why can’t I?” Xie Changji replied, seemingly puzzled.

“The Otherworld… pacified?” Shock spread. Wen Shaoqing was incredulous.
“How was it pacified?”

“Slaughter them all.”

Silence fell. His crimson robes seemed steeped in blood. If anyone else had said it, they might have laughed. But Xie Changji’s aura left no doubt.

Wen Shaoqing finally bowed, forcing a smile:
“This junior will leave now, Awan.”

…

Later, within Hehuan Palace, Hua Xiangwan presented him before her mother and the elders.

“Mother, Aunt Yun, Aunt Meng, Aunt Yu, Xiangwan has fulfilled her mission and returned with her husband.”

Xie Changji bowed deeply:
“Junior Xie Changji greets Palace Master and all elders.”

The Palace Master, beautiful yet aged, spoke weakly:
“You are the Supreme Lord of the Heavenly Sword Sect, a distinguished guest. You need not be so polite.”

“Now that I am married to Wanwan, I am a disciple of the Joyful Union Palace,” he said calmly. “Wanwan’s elders are my elders, and Wanwan’s sect is my sect. Palace Master, please do not stand on ceremony—just call me Changji.”

Relief and joy spread among the elders.

…

That evening, a grand banquet was held. Hehuan Palace disciples sang and danced, pulling the Heavenly Sword Sect disciples into revelry. Hua Xiangwan, embarrassed, turned to Xie Changji.

“You… you don’t mind, do you?”

He thought for a moment, puzzled.
“Mind what?”

“They’re singing, dancing, drinking.”

“I only know how to drink.”

Surprised, she laughed. “You can drink?”

“Yes.”

She poured him wine. They clinked glasses. He hesitated, then drank it all. Servants rushed to toast him, and he did not refuse. His face flushed, his composure softened.

Hua Xiangwan leaned close, whispering:
“Why don’t you go back first? Get some sleep.”

He hesitated, then nodded. Ling Bei helped him away.

…

Later that night, Hua Xiangwan, tipsy, encountered Wen Shaoqing again. His pleas, his bitterness, his desperate accusations filled the courtyard.

But when his words grew reckless, spiritual energy blasted him against the wall. A sword-light followed, only to be deflected by Hua Xiangwan’s palm.

Xie Changji stood there, lantern swaying, collar open, his voice cold:
“Get out of the way.”

Wen Shaoqing laughed bitterly, daring him to kill. But Xie Changji’s reply was calm, final:
“For the sake of saving her, I will spare your life tonight.”

…

Later, back in the quiet room, Hua Xiangwan apologized softly:
“Um, I’m sorry, I didn’t handle it properly and caused you trouble.”

Xie Changji looked at her, lamplight flickering across his jade-like figure.

“If you want to repair your Golden Core,” he said calmly, “don’t let anyone else do it.”

His eyes lifted, steady and unwavering.
“No one is better than me.”

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