Murong Longtu shouted to Li Guanyi, "Heard that, boy?"
Li Guanyi waved his hand without really turning back and said,
"Just sit around chatting and shooting the breeze then. That’ll do."
"Leave this place to me."
They seemed just like an ordinary grandfather and grandson with a pretty good relationship.
The child was quite stubborn. Li Guanyi pointed at his book and said,
"Isn’t there something off about this sword move?"
The child, also stubborn, said, "You don’t understand the sword."
The young Taoist pondered for a moment, glanced at the old man, then sighed with a touch of melancholy, "Seems I really don’t get it."
"Why don’t you teach me then?"
The kid was taken aback, then sized Li Guanyi up and said, "You don’t look like someone very impressive! You must not be traveling to Central State for business, you’re probably going to see Sword Madman and Chaos Qilin, right?"
Li Guanyi touched the center of his brow and said, "You’re really smart!"
The kid lifted his head and said, "Hmph, I knew it all along."
"Well, make sure you pay attention, I’ll teach you."
Li Guanyi spent time playing with the young sword enthusiast.
There was still some distance to Central State.
He felt a bit heavy in his chest, the bronze tripod had been swallowing Zhang Ziyong’s Primordial Qi for several days, but had stubbornly shown no change, and Li Guanyi didn’t mind, just waiting.
Accompanying Murong Longtu, they made their way slowly towards Central State.
Shi Wu couldn’t help but feel envious and said with a smile,
"You and your grandson have such a good relationship."
Murong Longtu answered proudly, leisurely saying,
"The kid is really smart and filial too."
Shi Wu remarked, "Just don’t know what my future grandson will be like."
"Come on, old man, try some of our hometown spirits."
Murong Longtu nodded with a smile, the sun had shifted, not as hot anymore, he and Shi Wu chatted idly, accompanied by the sounds of shouting, and the small merchant group of a dozen or twenty people slowly set off.
Murong Longtu leaned against the carriage.
He had a handful of slightly wilted peanuts in his arms, gently swinging the horsewhip, the two horses going at a leisurely pace, the Shaking Light inside the carriage, his own blood kin sitting right beside him, within reach.
The old man took a sip of the turbid booze, feeling a slight sting when it went down his throat, he flicked the whip, the carriage ran carefree down the road, the jingle of the bells tinkling, then turned his head, chatting with the middle-aged man at his side.
Talking of the South Sea to the north, about the tasty local pastries, the fresh vegetables from there.
Talking about childhood memories, about once seeing a donkey kicking someone flying, Murong Longtu was amused into hearty laughter, geese flying across the sky, the old man leaning against the carriage, contentedly closing his eyes.
This was the Martial World he had once loved.
Comfortable and unassuming.
There was still a long way to Central State.
The four Palace Masters of the Academy had returned, all the Martial Artists and sword enthusiasts from all over were heading there, in a grand uproar. Contrary to them, this elder lost his former edge, dressed in a green robe, white hair, utterly relaxed.
He hardly looked like a sword enthusiast anymore.
Eventually, all had faded away.
Devoid of any Sword Intent or Sword Qi.
And at that moment, when Murong Longtu had released all his Sword Intent and Sword Qi,
Jiangnan · The Murong Family.
The wooden sword placed under the shade of a tree,
Suddenly let out a clear, faint sound of sword singing.