Chapter 50: This Sword Has No Name

The cultivators were startled.

“What?! It escaped? Where did it go?”

Song Shi said, “Let me use the talisman to track it again.”

He glanced at the sword in Yin Buqi’s hand and asked, “This sword… did you find it at the bottom of the river? Has it been named?”

“This sword has no name,” Yin Buqi replied, casually flipping his wrist, causing the crimson black-iron sword to vanish.

Everyone was dumbfounded, even Song Shi was taken aback.

Jiang Nian Nian asked, “What’s wrong?”

Song Shi rubbed his forehead and explained, “Throughout history, no matter how spiritual a weapon is, it’s always a tangible object, something you carry—essentially, a powerful accessory. But there has never been a weapon condensed from one’s soul power. Yin Buqi has managed to do it… well, it’s a blessing in disguise.”

A cultivator added, “Not found at the river bottom, but manifested! And it’s real—how incredible!”

Jiang Nian Nian was stunned and muttered, “So that’s how it is…”

“So… what exactly happened at the river bottom? And how did all those Yin spirits disappear?”

Song Shi’s gaze toward Yin Buqi was filled with curiosity.

Everyone else turned to look as well.

They, too, were eager to know how Yin Buqi had forged a spiritual sword from his soul and eliminated so many Yin spirits despite being severely injured.

Jiang Nian Nian instinctively felt that revealing what she had seen at the river bottom might not be in Yin Buqi’s best interest, so she stayed silent.

“It’s not something I can disclose,” Yin Buqi lowered his gaze, his entire presence steeped in an oppressive gloom.

The atmosphere between him and Song Shi became tense.

“Alright, let’s focus on handling the remaining Yin spirit first. We can talk about the rest once we leave,” Yin Ci stepped in to ease the tension.

Brother Yin doesn’t seem to like it when others ask him this question

He wrote it down in the notebook.

“Alright.”

Song Shi withdrew his gaze and activated the talisman again, flying off on his sword.

The others quickly followed.

“What about Miss Tang?”

A cultivator pointed to the unconscious Tang Murou on the ground, reminding everyone of her presence.

Yin Ci tossed his head.

“I’m not carrying her. Anyone who wants to can do it.”

The Yin spirit’s earlier attack had left him so traumatized that he vowed never to carry any woman ever again.

“I’ll carry her,” another cultivator offered readily.

“Fine,” everyone agreed, and they all departed.

Yin Buqi said, “Nian Nian, let’s ride the same sword.”

His sword had sunk into the river and disappeared, and using his unnamed sword—formed from soul power—would significantly drain his spiritual energy, so it wasn’t something he could use frequently.

Jiang Nian Nian nodded.

She had just drawn out her jade-green sword when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the cultivator carrying Tang Murou had placed his hand on her chest.

She said nothing and turned her gaze away, choosing not to intervene.

Yin Buqi embraced her from behind, their thin clothing doing little to separate their warmth.

His scent enveloped her, making it feel as if they were merging into one.

Just a moment ago, Jiang Nian Nian had feared they might be separated by life and death, but now, here he was, safe by her side.

The stark contrast made her cherish their time together even more.

Jiang Nian Nian suddenly realized how much she enjoyed being held by him.

Her heartbeat quickened slightly.

She shifted in his arms and whispered, “Buqi, thank you.”

Thank you for risking your life to save me.

Yin Buqi raised his eyebrows slightly, turning her around.

He lowered his head, his cold lips pressing against hers, then sliding down to her chin.

His crimson eyes sparkled with a smile.

“A life-saving grace should be repaid with your whole self… Nian Nian, once we leave Qinghe Town, I want…”

Jiang Nian Nian covered his lips, “No, you don’t want that.”

Yin Buqi grabbed her wrist and gently licked and sucked on her fingers, taking each one into his mouth.

The sensuality of the act, mimicking something more intimate, was incredibly suggestive.

Jiang Nian Nian tried to pull her hand away, but she couldn’t break free, her face flushing with embarrassment.

“Let go!” she demanded.

The sword under their feet wobbled slightly, but Yin Buqi casually stabilized it with a flick of his fingers and his spiritual energy.

“Not unless Nian Nian agrees.”

“Fine, I agree,” she relented, frustrated.

This little pervert, always thinking inappropriate thoughts, had completely ruined the tender moment.

Their sword flew at the rear of the group.

Yin Ci frequently glanced back, his ears burning red.

The little black ball hanging from his waist also watched intently, its eyes wide open.

Yin Ci quickly covered its eyes.

“This is not suitable for children.”

The talisman led them to the gate of a small courtyard.

With a screech, the wooden door slowly creaked open.

As they entered, the burnt black floorboards creaked underfoot, as if the entire house might collapse with one wrong step.

When they saw the scene inside, Jiang Nian Nian tactically retreated two steps, muttering dryly, “Damn! Father hears his daughter coming and hangs himself on the southeast branch.”

Song Shi asked, “What do you mean?”

Jiang Nian Nian replied expressionlessly, “Scared to death.”

Song Shi rolled his eyes.

“…You don’t seem that scared.”

Rows of wooden puppets stood against the wall, eerily lifelike in the dim light. Jiang Nian Nian tried her best to avoid looking at them, clutching Yin Buqi’s sleeve.

“These puppets look so realistic, it’s creepy.”

The room was incredibly dark, save for the faint light of an oil lamp on the table.

A woman sat by the table, carefully wiping the puppet in her arms under the dim light.

When they entered, she didn’t look up, merely giggling, “Ah, you’ve arrived.”

Yin Ci wasted no time with pleasantries, bluntly asking, “You Yin spirit, why have you slaughtered so many? It’s inhuman!”

The woman chuckled, “Because I want to! It’s none of your business! These puppets still need new skins for their clothes. I’ll start by peeling yours!”

When she finally raised her head, everyone was stunned.

The face she wore was eerily similar to Jiang Nian Nian’s—about nine parts identical.

But the Yin spirit’s ghastly pale face was painted with makeup, and her lips were a vivid blood-red, giving her an even more sinister look.

“This… this face!” Yin Ci was taken aback.

The Yin spirit, however, lunged toward him, her once-human fingers extending into sharp, deadly claws capable of piercing straight through a person’s chest.

Yin Ci’s pupils widened as he dodged, and the Yin spirit’s claws tore through the wooden door behind him.

Jiang Ziyou called out, “Junior brother, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

The Yin spirit shrieked and began fighting the group, the scene descending into chaos.

“I want skin! I want your skin! I need skin!!!”

“You so-called righteous cultivators are nothing but beasts wearing human skin, drenched in the blood of the innocent! You will all die horribly!”

“Where is Yin Ruoxu? I’ve killed so many people, why hasn’t he come for me yet?!”

As the Yin spirit screamed, tearing into her attackers, the name “Yin Ruoxu” stunned the group.

Yin Ci stood frozen in place.

The Yin spirit saw her chance and grinned wickedly, her claws darting straight for Yin Ci’s heart.

Yin Buqi’s sword flared with red light as a crimson blade appeared out of nowhere, cutting toward the Yin spirit like lightning.

—My sword shall strike with the thunder of the gods, sweeping away enemies with its sharp edge!

—Those who defy my sword will become a dead soul