134: Chapter 134 Memory Beads

The moment Jiang Hanzhou pushed the door open and stepped inside, a blinding white light erupted before his eyes.

It was only for an instant.

The next moment, he found himself standing in the middle of a valley.

The valley was not large, surrounded on all sides by mountains. The peaks were lush and green, with clouds and mist coiling around their waists, and waterfalls could be faintly seen hanging between the cliffs.

Beneath his feet was soft grass dotted with wildflowers, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of vegetation and soil.

The sunlight was just right.

No, that wasn't right.

Jiang Hanzhou looked up.

There was no sun in the sky.

The light was everywhere, falling softly and evenly, as if this world itself were the source of light.

He narrowed his eyes slightly and expanded his field of vision to its fullest—

Then, he froze.

Everything within his line of sight was normal.

So normal that... it was too abnormal.

There were mountains, water, grass, trees, the soft sound of wind brushing through the valley, and the gurgling of a stream in the distance.

But his vision told him that these were all "real."

They were not illusions, not mimics of a Formation, but tangible, existing matter.

"Is this... a Small World?"

This thought flashed through Jiang Hanzhou's mind.

Legend had it that experts in the Mysterious Glimpse Realm could open up cave heavens; though they could not compare to the real world, they could form their own small spaces for the purpose of Cultivation, storage, or even holding a Legacy.

A Small World left behind by the Dragon Slaying True Person?

Before the thought had even settled—

Killing Intent!

An extremely immature, extremely weak, yet genuine Killing Intent suddenly arrived from behind his side!

That Killing Intent was too weak.

So weak that Jiang Hanzhou might have even overlooked it.

But he did not overlook it.

He didn't even turn his head.

He struck out with a backhand palm!

"Bang—!"

A small figure was sent flying backward, tracing an arc through the air, before crashing heavily onto the grass three zhang away, rolling twice, and lying still.

Jiang Hanzhou turned to look.

It was a child.

About seven or eight years old, wearing coarse, short brown clothes, barefoot, with messy hair tied into a small bun.

He was lying face down in the grass with a wooden sword lying beside him.

A wooden sword.

Not an iron sword, not a copper sword, not even a sword forged from any metal.

Just an ordinary sword, whittled from wood.

The blade was rough, and there was even unstripped bark on the hilt.

Jiang Hanzhou was stunned.

He looked at his right hand.

With that palm strike just now, when he sensed the Killing Intent approaching, he hadn't thought about it at all; it was entirely an instinctive physiological reaction.

Although it was just a casual strike, not even using one-tenth of his power, for a seven or eight-year-old child—

It was enough to be fatal.

He stepped forward quickly and turned the child over.

It felt cold to the touch.

It was not the body temperature of a living person, nor the residual warmth of the dead.

It was... the coldness of a pearl or jade.

The child's body began to disintegrate the moment he touched it.

Like a sandcastle meeting water, it silently turned into countless tiny specks of light, drifting away from the clothes, shimmering with a soft glow in the sunlight.

After the specks of light dispersed, only a bead remained on the grass.

The bead was about the size of a longan, milky white and smooth, with a faint fluorescence flowing across its surface.

Jiang Hanzhou bent down and picked it up.

The bead was slightly cool to the touch, smooth as a mirror, reflecting his blurred reflection.

Then, a memory surged forth.

The feeling was very strange.

It was not the impact of being forcibly poured into his Sea of Consciousness, not the stinging pain of his Divine Sense being invaded, nor was it any form of "Legacy" he knew of.

It was like... watching a movie.

Sitting in a movie theater in his past life, watching the images flowing on the screen.

He knew it was someone else's story, knew it was a fictional plot; he could watch, feel, and think from the outside, but he would not be drawn into it.

It was the same at this moment.

He saw a child.

Seven or eight years old, wearing coarse, short brown clothes, barefoot, with messy hair tied into a small bun.

The child was sitting on a hillside, with an old ox beside him, grazing on the green grass.

The child was holding a wooden sword in his hand.

It was that rough, crookedly whittled wooden sword.

He stood up and began to practice swordplay.

No Master to teach him, no sword manual to read, and no one even told him what a "sword" was.

He just relied on his instinct, on that indescribable fondness, thrusting his sword out, one stroke at a time.

Thrust, hack, lift, wipe.

The movements were clumsy, immature, even a bit ridiculous.

But he practiced very seriously.

Sun rise, sun set.

The child on the hillside practiced swordplay day after day, and the old ox grazed day after day.

One day, it rained.

The child did not hide from the rain; he still stood in the rain, thrusting his sword out, one stroke at a time.

Rainwater flowed down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.

Another day, the old ox died.

The child sat on the hillside, buried the ox that had accompanied him for three years, and then continued to practice swordplay.

The images faded.

Jiang Hanzhou opened his eyes.

He looked down at the bead in his palm; the milky white fluorescence was still flowing, but it was a bit dimmer than before.

"Interesting."

He smiled.

"This Dragon Slaying True Person is really interesting."

This bead was a memory fragment of the Dragon Slaying True Person's childhood.

It recorded the years when he practiced swordplay while herding cattle.

No wonder the child holding the sword just now was so weak.

A seven or eight-year-old child, who didn't even know how to use a sword, how strong could he be?

Jiang Hanzhou put away his smile and looked at the bead in his palm, a glint of contemplation flashing in his eyes.

Memory.

These were memory fragments left by the Dragon Slaying True Person.

That "herding cattle and practicing swordplay" memory from just now was of almost no value to the current Jiang Hanzhou.

What profound mystery could there be in the sword practice scenes of a seven or eight-year-old child?

But he noticed one thing—

In that memory, although the child's sword techniques were immature, that "focus," that "fondness," that persistence of "let the wind blow and the rain beat, I remain unmoved"—

Was real.

That was the most original, most pure sprout of the Dragon Slaying True Person's sword heart.

"So..."

Jiang Hanzhou looked up, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings of the valley.

Was this Small World the trial ground left by the Dragon Slaying True Person?

Would those beads, those memory fragments, manifest into all kinds of people or objects?

Could one obtain the memories within them by defeating them?

Then—

What if it were the memories of the Dragon Slaying True Person in his youth, in his prime, or in his later years?

What if it were the memories of his bitter cultivation of the Dao of the sword after joining the Innate One Qi Sect?

What if it were the battle where he realized the "dragon slaying sword"?

What if it were the moment he stepped into the Mysterious Glimpse Realm and achieved Nirvana?

Jiang Hanzhou's heartbeat involuntarily skipped a beat.

That was the Dragon Slaying True Person.

An expert in the third stage of the Mysterious Glimpse Realm, a Nirvana expert.

An existence who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Palace Master of the Dragon Abyss Palace.

If he could obtain his Cultivation memories, martial arts insights, or even those long-lost ancient Cultivation Techniques—

The benefits would be immeasurable!

"I originally had no intention of participating in the struggle for these ruins."

Jiang Hanzhou muttered to himself, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips.

"But since Destiny has brought me here, there is no reason to let an Opportunity that has been delivered to my doorstep slip away."

He put the bead into his sumeru pouch and looked up toward the deeper parts of the valley.

Suddenly.

He felt something in his heart and looked up abruptly.

In the sky, countless brilliant specks of light were cutting through the firmament, trailing long tails of flame, like meteors falling from the sky!

Crimson, azure, silver-white, cyan—

The various colors of light intertwined and shone, illuminating this sunless sky, making it as gorgeous as a painting.

Each speck of light represented an entrant.

Jiang Hanzhou watched quietly, his Divine Sense perceiving with full force.

A rough scan revealed seventy or eighty auras.

And they were still increasing.

"They have all come in."

He murmured, but there was no fear in his eyes; instead, a hot flame ignited within them.

That was Battle Intent.

It was the instinctive reaction a true Martial Artist should have when Opportunity was right before their eyes and competitors were swarming in.

"I must speed up."

He withdrew his gaze and strode toward the depths of the valley.