Chapter 1738 - 314:

But in the woman's eyes there was half fear and half excitement, the red gradually covering everything.

The little old man said, "And you still claim your surname isn't Xi—this look in your eyes is exactly the same as the Xi Family Sword Demon recorded in the books."

The Huaiyin Xi Family was once renowned for its Sword Fools, later the whole clan's heritage seemed to stray onto the wrong path, from obsession into demonic fall.

The Xi Family also frequently roamed the Jianghu, carving out a great name upon the rivers, yet not one of them ever attained the Dragon King, and each person who defeated a Xi Family swordsman and broke their sword would in time become that generation's Dragon King.

Thus, the Xi Family was once called the Dragon King's Sharpening Stone.

Of course, there were also rumors that the demonic nature of the Xi Family's swords was too heavy, the killing intent impossible to restrain, so the Heavenly Dao would arrange for each generation's true elites to break the Xi Family's swords in advance.

Not every elite of every generation could become Dragon King, but the Dragon King must be one of that generation's elites—this turned into a kind of probabilistic phenomenon.

Later, the one who ended the Xi Family was Liu Qingcheng.

Rumor in the Jianghu had it that this Dragon King of the Liu Family once had a dearest friend who died under a Xi Family sword; afterward, once she attained the Dragon King's Position, she went in person to the Huaiyin Xi Family and slaughtered the entire clan.

Though there were all kinds of reasons offered in her defense, such as the Xi Family collectively going mad and committing slaughter, and the Dragon King of the Liu Family preemptively cutting off calamity, it was still hard to convince everyone.

And that Dragon King of the Liu Family had indeed done quite a few similar things—many of the opponents she faced in her early days roaming the Jianghu were later "settled accounts" with, their families and sects wiped out by her; this likewise became a major stain on that generation's Dragon King of the Liu Family.

On top of that, after she attained the Dragon King's Position, the span of time she spent suppressing the Jianghu was far shorter than that of any Dragon King before her, so some said she rushed to the Dragon King's Position purely for revenge, and once her vengeance was done her obsession dispersed and she voluntarily dissolved her martial body; others claimed her actions displeased the Heavenly Dao and she was punished by Heaven.

Such Jianghu tales are sometimes like myths and legends—inevitably distorted, even running utterly counter to the truth.

Yet if Li Zhiyuan were here, hearing the little old man mention that Dragon King of the Liu Family, he would likely at once recall Grandma Liu, facing that memorial tablet engraved with the name "Liu Qingcheng," wanting to speak yet holding back.

The woman raised her sword, the bloodstains on the blade began to tremble faintly, linking with her heart meridians—this was the literal formation of man and sword as one.

Before learning from that mad Sword Intent that the opponent was of the Xi Family, the little old man would have taken this as a purely desperate move; but now the little old man understood she was rousing the sword being nurtured within her body.

It was said that every member of the Xi Family, on the night of the full moon, would have an elder of the clan drive a sword the size of an embroidery needle into their heart meridians, using the person to nourish the sword, and only at the moment of death would it be released to perish together with the enemy.

Inwardly the little old man felt somewhat fortunate: if he had finished her off too early, he might really have ended up with a bloody hole in his own body.

He could afford to waste time, but he could not afford to be seriously hurt.

This time, the woman struck first, her blade spilling out like a long rainbow.

This reckless way of fighting was truly a death-seeking release of the sword.

The little old man stepped in close, first using one palm to push aside the sword edge, then another palm to slap toward the woman.

"Bang!"

The woman flew backward like a kite with a cut string, crashing to the ground.

But that sword was still gripped in her hand; she used the sword as a prop to brace herself and stand again, ignoring the fresh blood endlessly spilling from the corner of her mouth, and swung the sword forward once more.

The sword edge was knocked aside by the little old man's knee, followed at once by a kick that again sent the woman flying.

Over and over, five exchanges in succession—the woman was struck hard by the little old man every time, yet every time she managed to stand up again.

The little old man only kept injuring her, but did not follow through with techniques to kill; first he was shaving away her momentum, breaking down her bodily functions. Once she died, even if that sword was released, its threat would no longer be great.

The woman's figure wavered, but her gaze was filled with resolve; raising her sword, she charged once more. This time the blade pointed downward, the hilt gripped before her chest.

Clearly it was the final stroke—if she failed to pierce the enemy, she would pierce herself.

The little old man sent out a single palm, surging like a tide, batting the sword edge aside.

The sword hilt slipped from the woman's hand, the blade driving into her own chest—that was the Sword-Nurturing position!

The little old man snapped out a single finger, striking the woman's body; the woman flew backward, and the little old man swiftly retreated as well, opening up the greatest possible distance at the fastest possible speed.

Yet the final sword that ought to have appeared in that imagined instant did not appear; the woman, flung away, hit the ground and at once yanked the sword from her chest, then without so much as turning her head, bolted off at full speed.

The little old man froze completely, a sense of sheer absurdity washing over him.

He had been tricked?

Just now that woman had clearly pierced through the Sword-Nurturing position, yet the sword had not flown out; this showed that she had not been nurturing a sword inside her body.

"So you… truly don't bear the surname Xi."

The little old man glanced in the direction the woman had fled, then looked at the ancestral mansion's main gate, and chose not to give chase.

He walked over to the short sword, picked it up; the short sword had already been Sealed by him, but he could still sense the mad, demonic Sword Intent within—it truly was a sword of the Xi Family.

The little old man suddenly thought of a possibility: that the Xi Family had indeed been wiped out to the last by Liu Qingcheng, and that woman might have chanced upon the Xi Family's heritage.

With no sect to instruct her, to train herself to this level relying only on a picked-up inheritance…

"In this generation of the Jianghu, are there really so many geniuses?"

The little old man carried the short sword back, walked up to the ancestral mansion gate, and when he tried to push it open, he found that the gate would not budge.

"This…"

The little old man tried again with more strength, but the gate still did not move an inch.

He drew a breath and pushed the gate with palm Power.

"Boom!"

The little old man was sent flying backward, landing with a loud "plop," and a metallic tang surged up in his throat.