Chapter 55: A Pair of Fine Swords

There is one thing to be said for self-driving cars: their speed is remarkably steady. After leaving the Shixi campus, the car merged onto the main road in just a few turns. Only then did Charles realize the car was self-driving. No longer restraining his talkative nature, he immediately began chattering with Ou Xiaolu.

As it happened, Ou Xiaolu had something to discuss with Charles. After listening for a few moments, Ou Xiaolu asked, “Charles, do you know what happens to the iron filings and slag from those heavy industry factories? Are they recycled, or dealt with in some other way?”

Charles had half a mind to say, “How should I know?” but then he recalled how Ou Xiaolu had kept him busy running errands a few days ago, earning him ten thousand dollars. Since then, Ou Xiaolu hadn't called on him at all. Now Ou Xiaolu had a self-driving car, and he still only had those ten thousand dollars.

So Charles patted his chest with confidence and declared, “Don’t worry about that. Heavy industry plants aren’t munitions factories—they generate a ton of waste every year that needs to be dealt with. Aside from some special metal scraps, most are compressed into blocks and sold as scrap metal. With money, you can buy them anywhere.”

“Buy me some to see. If it’s suitable, I’ll buy it monthly in the future,” Ou Xiaolu replied after a moment’s thought. “Get some of the compressed ones, and some uncompressed as well.”

“Buying is easy enough, but what do you need it for?” Charles asked, curious.

“To make statues,” Ou Xiaolu answered directly.

Charles knew that art students always had odd ideas. Using metal scraps to make statues? They’d probably use tires and trash too. He nodded and agreed.

By then, the car had reached Chinatown. Ou Xiaolu parked by the roadside, hesitated, and decided not to bring Arrow along. He simply rolled down the window and took Charles out with him. As for why he wasn’t worried about anyone stealing the car—anyone who saw Arrow sitting inside would steer well clear.

Ou Xiaolu headed straight for the Master Chef’s Bistro. As soon as he entered, Li Qinghao, who was tidying up, turned to look at him.

The moment Li Qinghao saw Ou Xiaolu, a gleam flashed in his eyes. “Kid, did you come into some good fortune? You look completely different from a few days ago.”

“I met a master who taught me a breathing technique and even awoke the Tiger-Leopard Thunder Resonance within me.”

“Tiger-Leopard Thunder Resonance? That’s to activate the constitution in your bone marrow. As for the breathing technique—which one is it?” Li Qinghao asked.

“A Qi Cultivator’s breathing technique. It’s just a basic method, like foundational internal skills—nothing advanced.”

Li Qinghao sighed. “These days, it’s the most basic things that have lost their legacy. So, what brings you here?”

“The master also taught me a set of exercises for the lung meridians. I’m supposed to refine sword energy into my breath, to move like wind and thunder. I don’t know if it’s genuine or not, but since you’re here, I came to ask. If it’s real, I’ll also need to buy a few swords from you to practice.”

“A few swords, you say? That’s the skill of the ancient sword masters. The old books say, ‘A single shout from the nose, a breath of white mist, and heads roll’—that’s what they were talking about.”

“It seems you’ve truly inherited the legacy of ancient Qi cultivators. Quite the stroke of luck.”

“So it’s real?” Ou Xiaolu feigned naive surprise. “I thought it was impossible to practice.”

“How could it be impossible? It’s just difficult, and the entry threshold is high. Ordinary swords might not suffice. Wait here; I’ll find something for you.” As he spoke, Li Qinghao disappeared into the back room.

Charles stood there, utterly baffled. Li Qinghao and Ou Xiaolu were speaking Chinese, and he hadn’t understood a word. He had no idea what a tall tale Ou Xiaolu had just spun.

Soon, Li Qinghao returned with two boxes. He set them on the table and opened them with a flick of his hand.

Ou Xiaolu leaned over to look and saw two short swords inside. The swords looked almost identical, each about thirty centimeters long with no hilt, their blades gleaming coldly—clearly fine weapons.

Yet something about them felt subtly different, though their designs were the same.

“These two swords were crafted by an old friend of mine, who always believed it was easy to forge a sword but hard to nurture one,” Li Qinghao explained. “Nowadays, with so much metal around, more and more people use metal to ‘nourish’ swords. But to nourish a sword with vital energy, you first need sufficient life force, or you’ll harm yourself, not the sword. So he designed this pair: one named the Marquis of Endless Night, the other the Marquis of Sweet Spring—essentially, tea and wine. I haven’t started nurturing them yet. If you want them, they’re yours.”

“Marquis of Endless Night and Marquis of Sweet Spring? Intriguing names,” Ou Xiaolu replied, nodding. “Your friend is certainly ambitious.”

“Ambition is one thing, but what good is it at his age? It’s not like he can gamble everything anymore. But let me warn you—if you really plan to nurture these swords, the tea and wine you use must always be the same type. Otherwise, if you damage the swords, I won’t forgive you.”

“I understand. I’ll take this set, then. Looks like I’ll be drinking tea by day and wine by night,” Ou Xiaolu said. He knew well the principles of nurturing objects—like with a Yixing teapot, changing teas would quickly diminish its quality. So he understood Li Qinghao’s concern.

“All right then—one hundred thousand dollars. Take the swords with you,” Li Qinghao waved him off.

After transferring the money, Ou Xiaolu felt a bit awkward. With only one hand, he could close the boxes, but carrying both was a challenge. So he called the car to pull up outside the Master Chef’s Bistro, picked up one box, and decided to drop it in the car first.

Li Qinghao nodded approvingly at this. In his eyes, swords and such treasures, once bought, belonged solely to their owner; no one else should touch them, not even to help carry them.

But just as Ou Xiaolu opened the trunk to stow the sword box, Arrow jumped out of the car. Startled, Ou Xiaolu was about to stop him when Arrow said, “I smell something good inside.”

“Of course you do. The manager here is known as Sword Immortal Li.”

“No, I mean the smell of a quest—one of those daily tasks,” Arrow explained as he walked toward the Master Chef’s Bistro.

Fortunately, only Charles and Li Qinghao were inside. Though both were startled to see Arrow, they didn’t react too strongly.

Instead, Li Qinghao glanced at Arrow and said with a smile, “Kid, is the master you mentioned his owner?”

“He’s my pet now,” Ou Xiaolu replied.

“Seems I underestimated your inheritance. This time, things are bound to get interesting.”

“Now you say that? You must have been trying to sell me useless swords at a premium, giving me the ‘special price’…”