Chapter 2: Restoring the Sword Blade

Ye Ming truly felt as if he were about to split apart.

It wasn’t a metaphor—it was literal.

One moment, he had been burning the midnight oil, racing against a project deadline, the harsh glare of the computer screen stinging his weary eyes.

In the next, everything went black. When he regained awareness, he found himself trapped inside a narrow, dark, and icy container.

Where am I?

My hands—I can’t move my hands! My feet too... my body... I can’t feel my body!

His consciousness thrashed wildly between searing pain and unexplainable panic.

He forced himself to focus his nearly scattered thoughts, struggling to “see” his surroundings.

His hazy “vision” gradually cleared, revealing not his familiar office desk, but a longsword, dull and riddled with cracks.

And he himself seemed to “exist” within this very sword.

A sword? I’ve become a sword?

An overwhelming sense of absurdity and terror crashed over him like a bucket of ice water.

Did I die from overwork and transmigrate? And not even as a human, but as a sword—one that looks ready to fall apart at any moment? What kind of cosmic joke is this!

He looked around again. The closest presence was a young woman, dressed in pale moon-blue Daoist robes.

She was gripping his “body” tightly.

She appeared to be in her early twenties, carrying a hint of cold elegance. Yet her brows were creased with panic, her lips pale, and a few locks of hair, damp with sweat, clung to her delicate cheeks.

She’s really quite beautiful, Ye Ming thought instinctively.

But then another wave of violent tremors and impacts assaulted him, each one threatening to shatter his “consciousness.”

It hurts—stop hacking! I’m going to break, really break! I’ll die, if this keeps up I’ll really die!

The specter of death loomed clearer than ever before. In this extremity of terror, an equally extreme will surged forth.

No, I can’t die! I just got here. I absolutely can’t die so inexplicably!

Calm down, Ye Ming! Calm down!

Analyze the situation!

First, it seems I’ve transmigrated into a cultivation world from a novel—and become a sword, one on the brink of destruction!

Second, the wielder seems able to hear my voice.

Third, if I shatter, she seems to be in trouble too. That reaction of agony earlier suggests some kind of link—are we bound together?

Step one, I must make her aware of my existence and the current crisis.

Step two, gain her trust—at least let her know that saving me is saving herself.

Step three, find any possible way to repair or alleviate this situation. There must be some resources nearby!

His will to survive drowned out all the bizarre details.

As insane as this was, the channel of communication was open—and that was his greatest hope.

...

“The blue-steel sword’s material is inferior. Damaged to this extent, unless I return to Azure Cloud Sect immediately and have the Swordsmith Hall reforge it, otherwise...”

To reforge a basic blue-steel sword meant little, but as an outer disciple, it would still cost her a hefty sum in contribution points.

And she was on a mission—returning immediately was out of the question.

Distant water can’t quench present thirst, and the “emergency materials” are right before our eyes!

Ye Ming spoke urgently, barely pausing to consider his words.

Materials? Bai Yueqing was taken aback.

Those two demon beasts you just killed—especially the larger one!

He tried to translate his hazy “senses” into words she could understand.

I can sense something from their bodies—a strong “signal” is calling to me...

He thought furiously, attempting to grasp the nature of his “sensing” ability.

What’s the principle here? Energy resonance? Material affinity? Never mind, my instincts tell me it’s useful. It’s worth a try!

Those longest, thickest spines on its back—and those two huge tusks! Hurry, take them!

Ye Ming shouted by instinct, feeling the “pull” gradually weakening. There was no time to lose!

Bai Yueqing hesitated; beast materials were valuable, but she’d never heard of anyone using the bones or tusks of a first-tier Iron-Tusk Boar to patch a weapon on the spot.

It was simply unheard of.

Ye Ming urged in her mind: What are you waiting for? Move!

If you delay, the “energy”—the useful stuff—will dissipate and be wasted!

Trust me, just this once. Otherwise, we’re both done for!

Bai Yueqing felt the sluggish flow of spiritual energy within her, the faint pain in her meridians, and looked at the sword in her hand—webbed with cracks, about to disintegrate.

There seemed to be no other option.

She hurried back to her companions, who were still dealing with the demon beast corpses.

“Senior Sister Liu, Senior Sister Zhou!”

Liu Lingyun looked up, relieved to see her return, but her relief turned to concern at Bai Yueqing’s ashen face and the sword clutched in her hand.

“Yueqing, you look paler than before you went to clean your sword. Are you really alright?”

“It’s nothing, just the stream was cold,” Bai Yueqing replied vaguely, her eyes fixed on the enormous Iron-Tusk Boar’s corpse.

“Senior Sisters, can I have the spines and tusks from this beast?”

Both were taken aback.

Liu Lingyun paused in her work, puzzled. “You want those?”

“They’re not worth much; even the Steward Hall won’t give many points for them.”

“Or are you planning to practice material handling?”

Bai Yueqing forced herself to improvise, “I’ve taken an interest in mundane bone carving lately.”

“Those spines and tusks are unusual—I thought I’d practice with them.”

Even she thought the excuse sounded feeble.

“I see. Be careful taking them,” Liu Lingyun said, not pressing further.

Zhou Qingwan eyed her suspiciously. Something was off about her junior today—first distracted, then frightened by a “snake” enough to drop her sword, and now interested in low-grade beast spines and tusks?

Just as Zhou Qingwan was about to question her, Bai Yueqing had already dashed to the huge beast corpse.

Suppressing her revulsion at the stench of blood, she crouched, drew her spare dagger, and got to work.

Those three longest, thickest spines in the middle, and the two big tusks—quickly!

Ye Ming continued to direct her. Bai Yueqing obeyed, struggling through tough tendons and membranes.

The Iron-Tusk Boar’s bones were hard as iron. After much effort, she finally pried out three spines and two great tusks.

For someone so slender, she’s surprisingly strong, Ye Ming thought privately.

But focus—survival is all that matters now.

Alright, now press them one by one against me—tightly!

How do I do that? Bai Yueqing asked in her mind, bewildered.

Just place them directly on the sword blade. Hurry! I can feel the energy inside them ebbing away!

Suppressing her doubts, Bai Yueqing took the materials aside, carefully turning her back.

She gripped the longest spine in her left hand, held the sword hilt in her right, and pressed the spine’s tip against the web of cracks on the sword’s back.

The instant they made contact, a barely audible hum resonated from within the sword.

The blade trembled imperceptibly; faint, dark-red light glimmered along the cracks.

From the point of contact, the essence of the bone was swiftly drawn out, transforming into a filament-thin stream of radiance that seeped into the fractures.

The spine quickly lost its luster, turning dull and brittle, before crumbling to dust.

At the same time, a gentle warmth surged up Bai Yueqing’s arm from the hilt.

Though faint, where the warmth passed, the stagnation in her spiritual energy—caused by the symbiotic bond—loosened a fraction.

The stabbing pain in her meridians eased a little as well.

It really works! Ye Ming was elated.

This sword can really absorb that energy!

Thank goodness, that bought us some time.

Keep going, don’t stop!

Bai Yueqing hesitated no longer and pressed the second spine to the blade.

Good, just like that! Try the tusks—they’re even richer in energy!

One after another, as the second tusk disintegrated into dust, the largest crack on the blade had closed by nearly half an inch.

The smaller fractures also faded and shortened significantly.

The sword in her hand no longer felt as if it would shatter at any moment.

At that moment, semi-transparent screens flashed before Bai Yueqing’s eyes:

[Essence detected and absorbed into the sword. Automatic repair and spiritual reserve conversion in progress.]

[Sword status: Severely damaged → Moderately damaged]

[Spiritual reserves: Depleted → Trace amounts]

[Symbiotic state: Danger averted]

We’re safe for now! Ye Ming let out a long breath, sounding much more at ease.

Well done. If we can find more of these “materials” in the future, it’ll do wonders for both of us!

Bai Yueqing gazed at the gradually healing blade, feeling her spiritual energy flow return to normal, her emotions an inextricable tangle.

Ye Ming’s speech—so direct, with a flavor she couldn’t pin down—was utterly unlike anyone she knew in the cultivation world.

And he seemed desperate not just to survive, but to keep her alive as well.

“Yueqing?”

Lost in thought, she didn’t know when her two senior sisters had approached.

They stared at the sword in her hand and the pile of rapidly crumbling spine and tusk remnants at her feet, faces full of suspicion.

“What are you doing? These bones...?”

Bai Yueqing tensed—she’d been so stunned by the repair’s effect, she’d forgotten her seniors were nearby.

Her mind raced, searching for an excuse.

Just then, a beastly roar thundered from deep within the forest, like muffled thunder. The ground trembled, and the sound of trees snapping filled the air.

Liu Lingyun and Zhou Qingwan’s faces changed dramatically. In an instant, they drew their swords, alert.

Zhou Qingwan barked, “This is bad! That pressure... it’s a second-tier beast, likely an Ironhide Rhinoceros!”

Liu Lingyun’s voice quavered, “A second-tier beast? That’s like a Foundation Establishment cultivator. How can three Qi Condensation disciples stand against it?”

Zhou Qingwan continued, “This place is too open, with nowhere to defend. The Ironhide Rhinoceros is fast. We won’t outrun it.”

“Our only option is to form a battle formation and look for a chance to retreat—quick, formation!”

Heavy footfalls grew ever closer, and a massive, mountain-like shadow appeared in their line of sight.

It was a terrifying demon beast, its body armored in thick blue-black scales, resembling a giant rhinoceros.

Ye Ming was startled. Not again!

Did you see the scales on that thing? They’re at least ten times harder than the bones just now—no, twenty times!

We just managed to repair a little, so whatever you do, don’t use me to take it head-on.

Otherwise, we’ll really be “joined in death”—no, sword and soul!