Devour: Can you also draw entries from clone projection worlds?

Life returned to normal, and you continued to practice your skills every day, as did Mu Wanqing.

Both of them were improving their swordsmanship, with Mu Wanqing's improvement being particularly rapid.

She can already withstand ten of your moves with her eyes closed. Although you only used 30% of your strength, for someone who has been practicing swordsmanship for less than two years, this is already a genius-level performance.

"You're a genius," you exclaimed sincerely once again.

Mu Wanqing rolled her eyes at you, but couldn't help but curl her lips into a smile.

That year, you didn't go out much. You stayed with Mu Wanqing, living a simple and peaceful life by Taihu Lake.

But you weren't idle; you were preparing something—to forge a real sword for Mu Wanqing.

It's not the kind of ordinary sword you buy in a blacksmith's shop; it's a genuine, heirloom-worthy sword.

You went to the best blacksmith shop in Suzhou and found an old blacksmith in his sixties who was said to be a descendant of Ou Yezi and whose craftsmanship was unparalleled.

The old blacksmith glanced at you, said, "Come back in three months to pick it up," and sent you away.

Three months later, you go to retrieve the sword.

The sword was two feet eight inches long, shorter than a regular sword, which was just right for Mu Wanqing's height.

The sword was gleaming, with a faint blue light emanating from it, as if water was flowing inside.

The hilt of the sword is wrapped with silver thread, and it feels very comfortable to hold.

The scabbard was made of fine sandalwood, covered with sharkskin, and inlaid with seven blue gemstones.

The old blacksmith said, "I've used this sword for three months. All the best of my craftsmanship in my life is in this sword. The steel for the blade is made with my family's secret recipe. It's flexible yet not brittle, sharp yet not brittle. It can cut through iron like mud and sever a hair with a breath."

You took the sword, drew it, and glanced at it. The blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and the edge was as thin as paper, almost transparent.

With a casual flick of your wrist, the sword wind left a sharp whistling sound in the air.

"How much?" you ask.

The old blacksmith held up one finger.

"One thousand taels?"

The old blacksmith shook his head.

"Ten thousand taels?"

The old blacksmith shook his head again.

"It's free."

You were taken aback: "It's free?"

"I've forged countless swords in my life, but never one that I'm truly satisfied with. This sword is the one I'm most satisfied with." The old blacksmith looked at the sword, his eyes shining with an indescribable light. "I don't want money. I only have one condition: the owner of this sword must be someone worthy of it."

You nodded: "She deserves it."

Take the sword back and give it to Mu Wanqing.

Mu Wanqing took the sword, drew it, glanced at it, and was completely stunned: "This...this is for me?"

"Um."

"How much?"

"It's free."

Mu Wanqing looked up at you, her eyes full of confusion.

"The old blacksmith said this sword was the most satisfying piece of his life. So... he didn't want money, he just hoped the owner of this sword would be worthy of it." You said, "I think you are worthy."

Mu Wanqing's eyes reddened. She lowered her head, looked at the sword in her hand, and gently stroked the blade with her fingers.

"Thank you." Her voice was choked with emotion.

"You're welcome," you said. "You're one of my people, so... isn't it only right that I give you anything?"

Mu Wanqing looked up at you and suddenly smiled. Her smile was as bright as the spring sunshine, illuminating your heart.

In the blink of an eye, eleven years have passed. You drew the entry for this year under the osmanthus tree by Taihu Lake.

The moonlight was beautiful that night, and the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms wafted in the night breeze. Mu Wanqing was asleep, leaning on your shoulder.

You didn't wake her; instead, you gently opened the entry extraction interface.

[Eleven years have passed, entry extraction in progress... Host's unusually peaceful state of mind detected...]

[Congratulations, host, you have obtained the white-level entry: Marital Harmony]

[Effect: When fighting alongside your partner, teamwork is greatly enhanced, allowing you to sense each other's intentions and states. Furthermore, your moods influence each other; if one partner is experiencing negative emotions, the other can provide comfort.]

You glanced at it, smiled indifferently, and saw a white entry. Your performance was as stable as ever, but it was still meaningful.

In the eleventh winter, the first snow fell on the shores of Taihu Lake.

The snow was light, just a thin layer, which fell on the branches of the osmanthus tree like a layer of icing sugar.

You stand in the courtyard, watching Mu Wanqing practice her sword in the snow.

She wore a light blue cotton-padded jacket, her hair was tied up with a silver hairpin, and the blade of her sword gleamed coldly in the snow.

Drawing the sword, sheathing the sword, turning around, glancing back—every movement was fluid and graceful, every sword strike perfectly timed.

The precious sword, forged by the descendants of Ou Yezi, seemed to come alive in her hands; the sword moved with her will, and her intention was perfectly aligned with the sword's movement.

After watching for a while, I suddenly realized something: her swordsmanship is now on par with yours.

It's not that she's better than you, but that her swordsmanship has developed its own path. It's no longer the moves you taught her, but something she figured out on her own.

Her sword was faster, more ruthless, and more direct, with no superfluous movements; every strike went straight for the vital points.

This is due to her innate personality. Mu Wanqing is indeed a person who clearly distinguishes between love and hate. She loves when she loves and hates when she hates, and she never hesitates.

Her sword is her heart.

"I'm not practicing anymore." Mu Wanqing sheathed her sword, walked to your side, and put her hand inside your clothes. "It's cold."

You hold her hand; it's icy cold but feels wonderful. You warm her hand with your Northern Darkness True Qi, and Mu Wanqing comfortably squints her eyes, like a cat basking in the sun.

"Your internal energy is becoming more and more profound," Mu Wanqing said. "It used to take you forever to warm your hands, but now they get warm in no time."

You smiled and didn't say anything more.

Your internal strength is indeed much more profound than before. It's not something you gained through cultivation, but rather through the Northern Darkness Returning to the Sea.

Since acquiring this purple entry, your efficiency in absorbing internal energy has increased several times over.

Each time he goes out to "hunt," he can absorb a large amount of internal energy, and the conversion is extremely fast, leaving no hidden dangers.

The Northern Darkness True Qi within you is now comparable to that of any top expert in this era, which... gives you a great sense of security.

"I'm going out for a trip after spring," you said suddenly after thinking for a moment.

Mu Wanqing's hand stiffened for a moment, but she didn't react as strongly as last time. She simply looked up at him and asked, "Where are we going?"

"Dali".

"Go find Duan Yu?"

"I'm not going to see him, I'm going to take care of something else." Wei Wen paused. "Your mother should be in Dali right now."

Mu Wanqing's body tensed up abruptly. She pulled her hand away from yours, took a step back, and her expression became complicated.

"My mother?" Her voice trembled slightly. "You found her?"

"I think I know where she is," you said casually. "Do you want to see her?"

Mu Wanqing fell silent. She lowered her head, looking at her footprints in the snow, and spoke after a long time.

"Why...why doesn't she acknowledge me?" Her voice was soft, tinged with grievance. "Why has she always treated me as her master? Why for so many...so many years has she not..."

You walk over and pull her into your arms. She doesn't struggle; she buries her face in your chest, her shoulders trembling slightly.

"It's not that she doesn't acknowledge you." It wouldn't be right for you not to say something, "She probably has her reasons. Why don't you ask her when you see her?"

Mu Wanqing didn't speak, she just hugged you tighter.