Chapter 45 The Scorched Tail Sword Box (Part 1)

As the two walked and looked around, Ling Wei soon found a new target—a piece of charred black wood on a nearby stall.

The black wood was a full three feet tall, with traces of flame scorching remaining on its surface; it looked like a piece of wood that had been struck by lightning and fire.

The stall owner was a weather-beaten Loose Cultivator, currently wiping a battered Flying Sword with a cloth—not only were there three or four nicks on the blade, but most of the spiritual patterns on the sword's body had been scorched into charred marks by lightning and fire, leaving only a small piece of light copper-colored metal at the hilt still emitting a faint spiritual glow.

"How much for this sword?" Ling Wei didn't look at the wooden casket, but instead showed great interest in that battered Flying Sword.

Hearing this, the Loose Cultivator looked up, glanced at Ling Wei, and then scanned the puzzled Lin Yue beside her. In a raspy voice, he said, "Young lady, have you taken a liking to this 'Thunder-Scorched Sword'? Don't let its broken appearance fool you; this is a truly good item from a major cultivation sect! If you really want it, twenty-five Mid-Grade Spirit Stones."

Lin Yue clicked his tongue in surprise. Even if this sword were brand new, it would only be worth thirty Mid-Grade Spirit Stones, let alone in such a battered state. This Loose Cultivator was clearly asking for an exorbitant price.

But Ling Wei squatted down, her fingertip lightly touching the copper color on the hilt, a faint glimmer flashing through her eyes as if she had confirmed something. When she looked up, her tone remained calm but carried an indisputable certainty: "Twenty Mid-Grade Spirit Stones. I'll take this sword."

"Twenty?" The Loose Cultivator had originally been asking for an exorbitant price, waiting for her to haggle. Hearing this, he knew a fat sheep had come to his door. He hurriedly said, "Young lady, you truly have a good eye..."

"Your sword isn't worth twenty Mid-Grade Spirit Stones," Ling Wei said slowly, looking at the Loose Cultivator. "But this hilt is made of 'Sinking Water Wood' and has been buried in a Spiritual Vein for over a hundred years, which is why it emits this pale green spiritual light. I have a Sinking Water Cold Rhino Sword that happens to need a replacement."

As soon as these words were spoken, the Loose Cultivator was stunned—it turned out the other party was also an expert; she had simply taken a liking to the hilt.

He had heard of Sinking Water Wood; it was said to be moisture-proof and spirit-repelling, a good material for making Magical Artifact bases or sword hilts. But he had held onto this sword for half a year and never realized the hilt was made of Sinking Water Wood!

He stared at the hilt for a long while, then looked up at Ling Wei. Seeing her composed expression, she didn't seem to be lying, and his mind immediately became active: a complete piece of Sinking Water Wood that had been soaked for a hundred years could indeed fetch a good price, but his sword hilt was not easy to sell on its own.

If he missed this opportunity, he might not get another one.

Moreover, this girl was clearly someone who knew her stuff and was very shrewd; he couldn't let any complications arise and cause the business at his door to fall through.

"Fine! Twenty it is!" The Loose Cultivator hurriedly picked up the cloth, wiped the Flying Sword, and handed it to Ling Wei. "Young lady is straightforward; this sword is yours!"

Ling Wei took the Flying Sword but didn't immediately put it into her Storage Pouch. Instead, she turned to look at the piece of charred black wood in the corner of the stall and pointed her finger there: "Boss, this wood is..."

"Oh, that was picked up last month at Black Wind Ridge. It was struck by lightning and fire, and only half of it was left after burning. It seemed a waste to throw it away, so I put it here." The Loose Cultivator waved his hand with a look of indifference. "If you like it, young lady, you can take it back to use as firewood; it's worthless."

Ling Wei's eyes brightened, and a faint smile played on her lips, yet her tone was casual: "I'll take it. Two Low-Grade Spirit Stones. I'll take it back and see if I can find someone to carve it into a flower trough."

"Two Low-Grade Spirit Stones?" The Loose Cultivator was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Young lady, what are you saying? It's just a piece of broken wood! I'll give it to you for free!"

In his view, Ling Wei spending twenty Mid-Grade Spirit Stones on that broken sword had already made him a huge profit. What was a piece of charred wood that no one wanted? Giving it away would even earn him some goodwill; it was a very good deal.

"That won't do. I never take advantage of others." Ling Wei pulled back her smile and told the Loose Cultivator, "If you don't accept the Spirit Stones, I won't even take this sword."

"Alright, alright, as you wish, young lady." Hearing this, the Loose Cultivator hurriedly tucked the two Low-Grade Spirit Stones into his robes.

...

After the two left the stall, Ling Wei asked, "Why don't you ask why I insisted on spending two Low-Grade Spirit Stones to buy this piece of charred wood?"

"I would like to hear the details!" Lin Yue knew that she must have a reason for doing so. He just didn't know what was so miraculous about this piece of charred wood.

Ling Wei didn't say much. She lightly swiped her fingertip across the surface of the black wood, and a very faint red light flashed and vanished from her fingertip. In an instant, the surface of the black wood shimmered, revealing countless ancient runes.

She raised her hand and took out the Thunder-Scorched Sword she had just bought. The nicks on the blade still had dark rust, but the Sinking Water Wood at the hilt was still bright.

With a gentle push from her, the Thunder-Scorched Sword seemed to be pulled by an invisible force, slowly sliding into the side of the jiaowei sword casket—where a thin slit had somehow opened up, just enough for the sword body to be embedded, fitting perfectly as if it were meant to be.

"This is a sword casket?" Lin Yue was clearly surprised. He hadn't expected this piece of broken wood to be a vessel for storing swords.

"This is the jiaowei sword casket, created by the ancient Artifact Refining Grandmaster Mo Hengzi." Ling Wei's voice dropped lower, her gaze falling on the sword casket with a hint of reverence. "A thousand years ago, there was a 'Netherworld Calamity' in the cultivation world. Evil spirits surged out from the Northern Abyss Prison and swallowed three major sects. To protect all living beings, Mo Hengzi spent three years refining the 'Heaven-Burning Sword.' He then used ten-thousand-year-old lightning-struck spiritual wood as a base, mixed it with Southern Wilderness Li-Fire Essence Gold, and cast this jiaowei sword casket to nurture the Nine Heaven-Burning Swords."

Lin Yue leaned in closer. His nose could catch a faint scent of pine emanating from the black wood, with not the slightest smell of charring. He reached out and touched the wooden surface, feeling it warm to the touch; it was neither the roughness of wood nor the coldness of metal, but rather like holding a piece of jade soaked in warm water.

"Later?" he couldn't help but ask.

"At the height of the calamity, Mo Hengzi charged into the core of the Abyss Prison with the Heaven-Burning Sword and perished along with the Evil Spirit Lord." The red light on Ling Wei's fingertip paused. "The Nine Heaven-Burning Swords have since been missing, said to be scattered throughout the cultivation world. The jiaowei sword casket was also struck by the lightning and fire of that great battle—look at these charred marks; they weren't caused by ordinary flames, but by the 'Netherworld Lightning Fire' of the Abyss Prison, which can erode spirits and destroy artifacts. Yet the Li-Fire Essence Gold inside the sword casket happened to be able to draw the lightning fire into its body, instead refining the netherworld baleful qi completely, leaving only this layer of charred shell to deceive others."

"Buzz—"

The sword casket suddenly gave a light tremble. The red light brightened where the sword was embedded. Through the charred marks, one could see the rust on the blade receding at a speed visible to the naked eye. Around the edges of the nicks, a layer of pale white spiritual light slowly condensed, as if it were re-fusing the metal.

Lin Yue was extremely shocked: "This... is it repairing the sword?"