The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

The sword is three feet long, with a narrow blade and a bluish-black luster. It is quite heavy in the hand.

The blade was sharpened, gleaming with a cold light, but upon closer inspection, one could see some dark patterns caused by impurities on the blade, indicating that the forging process was only average.

The hilt of the sword was wrapped with rough hemp rope to prevent slipping.

A typical low-grade standard steel sword is forged from ordinary iron mixed with a small amount of "steel ore". It is slightly harder and tougher than pure ordinary iron and can conduct spiritual energy to a little extent, but that's all.

In the eyes of cultivators, it was not much different from a fire poker.

As for the price, two ounces of black copper wire would be the absolute maximum.

Zuo Qingqiu took the sword and casually twirled it.

"Buzz—"

The sword trembled, emitting a low, soft hum.

"You have a good eye, fairy!" the man grinned. "This sword was forged by my own hand, using the finest steel ore mixed with a third of refined iron. It's incredibly sharp! It can easily pierce through any ordinary wild beast!"

Zuo Qingqiu didn't speak, but simply ran her fingers over the sword, feeling its rough texture and faint spiritual energy reaction.

This is exactly what she wanted.

A very ordinary, lowest-grade steel sword that wouldn't even get a second glance if thrown into a group of cultivators.

"How much?" she asked.

"Two ounces of black copper! Honest and fair to all, young and old!" The man held up two fingers.

Zuo Qingqiu took out two ounces of dark copper coins from her sleeve, which had a dark color but a faint aura of spiritual energy, and placed them on the counter next to her.

The man's eyes lit up, and he quickly put it away, his smile widening even more: "Thank you for your patronage, fairy! Please take it!"

Zuo Qingqiu, carrying the steel sword worth two taels of black copper, left the blacksmith's shop and rejoined the crowd.

The reason she went down the mountain to buy a Qinggang sword was that she planned to use this most ordinary Qinggang sword to fight her way up Yanfu Mountain and destroy the Diluo Sect.

If people knew her plans, they would only think she was arrogant and conceited.

To take a steel sword made of ordinary iron and use it to fight against a demonic sect with tens of thousands of years of history is simply courting death.

However, she had her own reasons.

The Diluo Sect has a long history, and it's hard to guarantee that they don't have some hidden trump cards, such as formations or forbidden artifacts left by a True Monarch-level ancestor, or even some vicious methods of mutual destruction. Although she wasn't afraid, she didn't want to force the other party into a desperate situation from the start, causing them to throw all their trump cards at her at once.

Pretending to be weak to outmaneuver others may be a cliché, but it is often effective.

Without needing the overly ostentatious Thunder Emperor Armor and his natal magic weapon, the Demon-Slaying Spear, he simply wore a green robe, a bamboo hat, and carried an ordinary green steel sword, disguising himself as a sword cultivator in the early stage of the Purple Mansion realm, and went to "seek revenge."

The Purple Mansion Demon Lords who remained at the Diluo Sect would likely underestimate the newcomer, who was only at the "early stage of Purple Mansion," and would not immediately use their strongest methods.

Once she has figured out the details, or the other party has revealed a weakness, she can suddenly unleash her full power with overwhelming force, thus minimizing the risk and maximizing the efficiency.

To be honest, her swordsmanship wasn't actually top-notch.

What she was truly skilled at was marksmanship.

After more than two hundred years of arduous training, her spear skills have reached the level of "skill approaching the Tao". Even without using thunder magic, she can wield a simple iron spear with the force of thunder and sweep away thousands of troops.

But the gun was too conspicuous.

Using a sword allows for better disguise.

In order not to expose his lack of swordsmanship in battle, after returning to Zixu Peak, Zuo Qingqiu even took his newly bought Qinggang sword and practiced diligently for a whole day in his courtyard.

Without using any immortal energy, he only used the most basic chopping, stabbing, flicking, wiping, pointing, and striking techniques... striving for precision, speed, and fluidity in every move.

At first, I was a little hesitant, after all, it had been too long since I had touched a sword.

However, with her Golden Core True Monarch cultivation and her meticulous control over her body, she regained her touch in less than half a day, and her basic sword technique was quite impressive.

While not exactly exquisite, it was enough to impress ordinary cultivators at the Purple Mansion level.

While practicing swordsmanship, Xiao Bai curiously watched from beside the stone table, blinking her big eyes: "Sister, when did you switch to swordsmanship? Where's your Demon-Slaying Spear?"

Zuo Qingqiu sheathed her sword and stood there, the steel sword twirling in her hand, emitting a faint whistling sound.

"It's nice to change things up sometimes," she replied casually, without elaborating further.

As night fell, a light drizzle began to fall from the sky.

The autumn rain was continuous and fine as silk, carrying a refreshing coolness, sprinkling on the flowers and plants in the courtyard, making a soft rustling sound.

The air was filled with the scent of damp earth and vegetation.

Zuo Qingqiu stood under the eaves, watching the rain dripping from the corners of the eaves, her eyes calm.

The time has come.

She returned to the house, changed into a blue robe, put on a cloak, and donned a bamboo hat to cover her face. Finally, she gently tied the blue steel sword, worth two ounces of black copper, to her waist.

She looked like a female knight-errant wandering the martial arts world.

Pushing open the door, the night wind, mixed with cool raindrops, rushed towards me.

She stepped into the rain.

Fine raindrops fell on the straw hat and cloak, making a soft pattering sound.

She turned around and glanced at Xiaobai, who was sitting under the lamplight, hugging her knees and looking at her expectantly.

"Stay put and don't wander off," she whispered.

Little White nodded vigorously and waved her little fist: "Sister, be careful!"

Zuo Qingqiu's lips curved into a barely perceptible smile before she turned and stepped into the deeper darkness of the rainy night.

The next second, her figure vanished silently from the spot, like an ink droplet merging into water.

The night rain was slightly chilly.

The show is about to begin.

-

The night rain was dense and fine, like silk and mist, shrouding the world in a hazy gray.

The wind was light, but it carried the chill unique to late autumn, whipping up raindrops that drifted obliquely, pattering against the leaves and making a continuous rustling sound, like thousands of silkworms munching on mulberry leaves.

Zuo Qingqiu flies in the rain.

She wasn't moving fast; in fact, she seemed to be deliberately slowing down, like a lone crane soaring through the dark sky.

Rainwater gathered in lines along the edge of the straw hat, dripping intermittently, but when it touched a radius of three feet around her body, it was quietly repelled and evaporated by an invisible yet real force field.

That was the immortal energy field naturally emitted by a Golden Core True Monarch.

Without any deliberate effort, the entire body naturally forms its own domain wherever the mind goes.

Unaffected by wind and rain, untouched by dust, even the most violent gales and thunder cannot shake it in the slightest.

His face beneath the straw hat was calm and expressionless, except for a pair of eyes that gleamed with a deep, dark light, like two bottomless pools of cold springs.

She gently placed one hand on the hilt of the steel sword worth two ounces of copper at her waist, her knuckles distinct, her skin appearing exceptionally fair in the rainy night.

His other hand hung casually at his side, occasionally raised to press down the edge of his straw hat, as if just to keep his vision from being blurred by the rain.

The night ahead grew darker, and the rain intensified.

Apart from the sounds of wind and rain, the only other sounds were the dark outlines of the mountains and forests below, which resembled the crouching silhouettes of giant beasts.

It is about 500 li away from the Yanfu Mountains.

Just then, two points of light of a different color suddenly appeared in the dark rain ahead.

One red and one green.

Two streaks of light pierced through the rain curtain at incredible speed, like two shooting stars tearing through the night sky, flying straight toward Zuo Qingqiu.

The light trailed long, hazy tails in the rain, carrying a clear sense of hostility and wariness.

-

PS: When I was young, I read martial arts novels. My friends were always excited by the stories of how they found divine weapons and then used them to show off and get ahead.

These stories are indeed very enjoyable.

But what I truly cherish is the older, more traditional world of martial arts.

The man always wore a slightly worn blue robe and a bamboo hat that obscured his eyebrows and eyes. A sword hung at his left waist—a two-tael forge from a blacksmith's shop, its scabbard polished to a gleaming shine; at his right waist hung a gourd with peeling vermilion lacquer, inside which dangled the most ordinary strong liquor. He led a slow-moving gray donkey, clattering along the dusty ancient road under the setting sun, its origins and destination unknown, its home nowhere to be found.

That man rarely revealed his martial arts skills in public. He would only use his well-defined knuckles to beat those scions of noble families to a pulp in a few moves when he saw injustice on the road. Their weapons would clatter and fall to the ground.

Only when the other party cursed and pulled out the divine weapon passed down from his sect, its cold light piercing, did the man casually draw his two-ounce iron sword.

A clear "clang" was heard—

The divine weapons shattered inch by inch, like ice cracking, like jade crumbling. But the man's dull, lusterless iron sword remained without a single nick. Only the soft sound of him sheathing his sword and the deathly silence surrounding them remained.

For me as a teenager, the idea that a sword worth two taels of silver could shatter legendary divine weapons was incredibly cool.

Even today, it remains a delightful memory.