Frost crystals cracked across the white-jade flagstones of the Grand Sword Plaza as Jian Wuchen held the three-foot azure blade aloft.
“Take a good look, Chu Lingxiao!” Jian Wuchen’s voice rang with smug pride across the two thousand gathered disciples. “For two years in the Ice Cave, I refined this Rank-4 Peak Cold-Frost Immortal Sword using thousand-year glacial iron and my own heart-blood! Had you not wasted your youth on mud-legged mortal flood victims, a treasure like this might have been yours!”
Up on the dais, ex-girlfriend Liu Yan (Goodness: 14/100) clapped her hands together and gazed at the glowing blue sword with starry eyes.
“So that’s a supreme sword forged by a true immortal prodigy!” Liu Yan gushed loudly, shooting a spiteful glare down at Lin Mo. “Unlike some nouveau-riche mortal upstarts who only know how to boil wonton soup, Senior Brother Jian’s sword-intent practically freezes the clouds!”
In her velvet massage throne, Chu Lingxiao didn’t touch her soup spoon. Her fingers gripped the wooden armrests so tightly the spirit-oak creaked, her eyes locked on a tiny crescent-shaped notch beneath the frost blade’s crossguard.
Beside her, Lin Mo swallowed a plump snow-shrimp wonton, set his porcelain spoon down, and glanced at the sword.
