Path of the Sect Leader

Chapter 123: Birth of the Moonshadow Sword

The final match carried no suspense.

Zhang Shishi’s cultivation and battle experience towered far above Mo Jianxin’s. Victory came as naturally as breathing.

With the first Chu Qin Sect Martial Assembly concluded, Zhang Shishi took first place. When Qi Xiu presented the two prize treasures for him to choose from, the big man quietly picked the lesser one, leaving the superior item for the runner-up—Mo Jianxin.

Once the dust settled, the entire sect shifted gears.

Every resource, every spare moment, now funneled toward preparing the three representatives for the arena tournament more than a year away.

Mo Jianxin threw himself into finishing the second-grade Moonshadow Mysterious Ice Sword he had been forging for He Yu. At the same time, he began dissecting and practicing the Spirit Monkey Movement Art left behind by Gu Ji. And in the heat of the recent matches, his stagnant cultivation finally broke through the first major bottleneck—he stepped solidly into Qi Refining Layer 3.

He Yu needed no urging. Given his monstrous talent, he would almost certainly reach the peak of Qi Refining within the year. Pair that with the Moonshadow Mysterious Ice Sword, and even among Foundation Building cultivators, he would be a force to reckon with. Zhan Yuan’s sky-high expectations for the young man were not without reason.

Zhang Shishi, whose Dao Heart had been quietly guttering out over the years, felt a spark reignite after claiming the championship. He no longer drowned himself entirely in domestic bliss. Instead he balanced grinding his cultivation with painstakingly drilling the custom shield-handling technique Bai Xiaosheng had created just for him: the Wind-Splashing Shield Dance—a seamless fusion of Spirit Monkey footwork and several weapon-dance traditions.

The rest of the sect didn’t sit idle either.

They redistributed the three competitors’ usual duties, dispatched scouts to gather intelligence on likely opponents, scrounged for suitable talismans, treasures, techniques—anything that might give their fighters even the slightest edge. The Black River Market tournament came only once every decade. No one intended to show up unprepared.

One year later.

Thick black clouds swallowed the moon. Not even a sliver of silver showed through.

Immortal Grove Hollow lay beneath a scattering of cold stars—quiet, almost unnaturally peaceful.

Inside the master bedroom of the private residence, the old married couple had just finished another round.

Wei Minniang lay draped across Qi Xiu’s chest, eyes half-closed, limbs heavy with exhaustion. He shifted, intending to ease her down onto the bed so she could sleep properly.

The moment he moved, she startled awake. In one quick roll she flipped onto her back, hands braced under her lower back, hips lifted high again. Gritting her teeth, she began cycling the Seed-Fixing Technique she had learned from the He Huan Sect long ago.

“You’re wearing yourself out,” Qi Xiu said softly, stroking her damp hair. “And we still haven’t seen any result. Why don’t we just… let it go for tonight?”

Wei Minniang’s eyes flashed. “No result? Didn’t Bai Muhan send a message the other day saying she’s already expecting?”

The words came out sharper than she intended. She softened at once, but the sting lingered.

Qi Xiu sighed. “Everyone has their own fate and timing. For us Dao cultivators… maybe it’s better to let nature take its course.”

She gave a sudden, breathless laugh, then spat playfully at him.

“‘Us Dao cultivators,’ ‘us Dao cultivators’—every day it’s the same line! Didn’t your precious Dao teachings tell you to embrace tranquility and abstain from desire? So how come you never listen? Day after day you torment your poor wife.”

Qi Xiu coughed awkwardly, caught off guard by how neatly she turned his own words against him. His ears reddened. He wisely shut his mouth.

A faint ripple passed through his perception.

Yu Jing stood just outside the residence.

Since he began practicing the Seek Advantage, Avoid Calamity Technique, his spiritual sensitivity had grown sharper by the day. A useful little gift.

He murmured an apology to his wife, dressed quickly, and stepped outside.

“News from Black River,” Yu Jing said with a respectful bow. “The Messenger Wind Crows have arrived. They say the Moonshadow Mysterious Ice Sword is about to be completed. They request that Senior Brother Sect Leader come to witness the final birth.”

Messenger Wind Crows—second-grade transmission spirit birds bred by the Beast Taming Sect. A pair cost an arm and a leg. Qi Xiu had still gritted his teeth and bought them. The distance between Black River Peak and Immortal Grove Hollow was too great; being cut off from news during the run-up to the tournament was unacceptable. Cheaper birds wouldn’t have been reliable. Even then, he’d needed to ask someone to purchase on his behalf—had Chu Qin Sect’s name been attached directly, the Beast Taming Sect disciples would have laughed in his face.

“Excellent.” Qi Xiu’s eyes brightened. “Reply at once. Tell them I’ll set out first thing tomorrow morning.”

Mo Jianxin had spent four full years tempering that second-grade mid-tier flying sword—its performance rivaling top-grade weapons. If he actually succeeded… Qi Xiu would have to reevaluate the young man’s talent for the water-tempering path yet again.

The next day Qi Xiu and Mo Guinnong hurried to Black River Peak.

From a distance they saw He Yu sitting cross-legged outside the cave mouth, silently guarding the entrance.

As they drew near, He Yu raised a single finger to his lips—quiet—then rose and gave a shallow salute. Even the rustle of his robes had been kept minimal, as though the slightest sound might disturb the delicate balance inside.

Qi Xiu and Mo Guinnong exchanged a glance. They understood at once.

Mo Jianxin had reached the most critical juncture.

They settled quietly beside He Yu, making no noise at all.

Not long after—

A sharp, metallic ring echoed from within the cave, like swords clashing in the distance.

Mo Jianxin’s voice rang out, raw and triumphant.

Silver light exploded from the cave mouth—layer upon layer of moonshadow rippling across the surface, flowing endlessly. Half a stick of incense later, waves of biting cold surged outward. Moonshadow and frost alternated, pulsing in rhythm, for hour after hour.

Until dusk.

A full moon finally climbed above the treetops.

The silver radiance at the entrance gradually dimmed.

Then—*puu!*

The wet sound of someone coughing blood.

Followed by a heavy thud. A body hitting the ground.

“Jianxin!”

Mo Guinnong’s heart lurched. He rushed into the cave without another word.

Qi Xiu and He Yu followed close behind.

A silver flying sword hovered above the cold spring at the cave’s heart—gleaming, almost alive with intelligence. Chilling mist rolled off its blade in visible waves.

Mo Jianxin lay collapsed in his grandfather’s arms, unconscious, the front of his robe soaked dark with blood.