Chapter 8 – I Want a Pink Sword
From that day forward, many disciples began to open up to new horizons.
Those who had started later picked up things faster, while the early starters—already steeped in the sect’s principles—would still need some time to adjust their habits and ways of thinking.
Overall, though, everyone showed at least some change. And the one causing this change? She had been cultivating diligently, and her progress had been astonishing.
Even the sect master was pleasantly surprised. Among all his disciples, Song Zhen’s talent was simply unparalleled.
“Come, come, come! Show me what you’ve learned these days,” the sect master said, even calling in some elders to witness. He wanted to flaunt the achievements of his last disciple.
Though he had only a few disciples, the talent of them all was outstanding. And this little disciple at the very end—her talent was exceptional. Sometimes her ideas were a bit unorthodox, almost demonic, but geniuses always had strange quirks; it was understandable.
The sect master naturally found an excuse for Song Zhen, but he also reminded her to tone it down just a bit this time. He was used to her chaotic techniques, but he didn’t want to scare the elders.
Song Zhen looked at the gathered elders and suddenly felt as if she were kid being pulled in for a New Year performance in front of relatives.
Was she the kind of person who’d be timid in front of elders? Of course not!
“Respected elders, this disciple shall humbly show her humble skills!” she said, drawing her wooden sword. Her movements were sharp and precise, hardly resembling a newly inducted disciple.
The sect master stroked his chin, the lines on his face deepening from laughter.
This little girl had some restraint today—she didn’t show all her bizarre tricks. Not bad, not bad.
Ji Fan, standing nearby, was practically holding his breath. He had no idea where the sect master found the courage to let his little junior sister perform in front of the elders. Didn’t he fear she might suddenly “go off”?
Yes, in his eyes, Song Zhen’s mind was… unusual. She often said the oddest things.
Last time, he accidentally stepped on her foot. She gave him a very amusing smile and, in a sticky voice, said: “Man, are you trying to get my attention on purpose?”
When he heard that, he had the sudden urge to burrow into the ground.
There were countless moments like this. Normally, such words would mean romantic interest—but with her, he could tell she didn’t mean a thing. She was just playing.
Of course, he didn’t even want that. It was disgusting! And the worst part—she thought she was charming and praised her own “acting skills.”
Now, he dreaded the thought that after her demonstration, she might turn to the elders and say, “Gentlemen, satisfied with what you see?” Just imagining it made him want to claw holes in the floor with his toes.
He spent the whole performance on edge. As soon as Song Zhen finished, Ji Fan’s eyes were glued to her. The moment she said even one word like “man,” he’d leap forward to cover her mouth.
They couldn’t let their reputation be tossed around in her hands!
It had to be said, a homebody Otaku like Song Zhen had indeed read a whole lot of overpowered-protagonist and Mary Sue novels in modern times — she’d absorbed all the essence those stories had to offer.
Song Zhen had no idea what her senior brother was thinking. She was lost in the glory of her own excellent performance .
Seeing her sect master’s satisfied expression, she knew she had performed exceptionally well.
“Respected elders, how do you find my humble performance?” she asked, genuinely pleased with herself.
Even though she didn’t get to use any of her self-modified moves, her coolness level was absolutely maxed out.
The elders nodded in approval. “Truly the sect master’s meticulously trained last disciple. Your talent is exceptional. Don’t waste it.”
Song Zhen giggled, her elite aura dissipating in an instant, turning into a goofy, innocent smile. “No, no, I cherish my talent very much.”
Her silly grin made even the elders laugh. Ji Fan couldn’t help but crack a smile himself. Just three seconds of composure, and she’d already revealed her true self.
After the elders left, the sect master let out a contented sigh. “Song Zhen, your performance was excellent today. You’ve brought honor to your master. What reward would you like?”
A reward? And she could choose it herself? Song Zhen’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
Seeing her looking so sly and cunning, the sect master suddenly had a bad feeling.
After acting as both father and mother these days, Ji Fan had more or less figured out what all of Song Zhen’s little gestures meant.
In short, her master was probably going to have to bleed heavily this time.
Song Zhen glanced at her wooden sword, then looked up at the sect master with sparkling eyes. “Master, please give me a sword! I want a sword of my own!”
Seeing her senior brothers and sisters with their beautiful swords, she was almost green with envy.
Fifth Senior Brother’s sword was also beautiful—and it was pale pink, with pink sword energy! Gorgeous!
As a girl, shouldn’t she be allowed a pink sword of her own?
She sneakily glanced at Ji Fan’s sword.
Noticing her glance, he quietly hid his sword behind him.
Could this girl be thinking of making her master give his sword to her? No way!
The sect master was honestly quite troubled too. Many of the swords the disciples of the Mystic Cloud Sect carried were ones they found on their own, and besides, none of them had only one sword.
It’s just that most of their swords are stored inside their sea of consciousness, an internal spiritual space within a cultivator’s mind; the ones they keep in their hands are usually their most cherished, or at least the one they cherish most at the moment.
This explained why sword cultivators were often poor. Who wouldn’t want to collect more treasured swords?
Good swords were never enough. And then there were accessories—sword sheaths, tassels, maintenance tools. Every little thing cost money!
Although he was the sect master, he really hadn’t saved much money. And the Sword Tomb wouldn’t open for another half year, so he couldn’t go in anyway.
By rights, most disciples received their first swords from the Sword Tomb, but since his little disciple had already said as much… as her master, he should really meet her request.
Seeing her expectant little face, the sect master gritted his teeth. He would let her have it even if it bleeds his wallet!
“Very well. I’ll get you a sword. Tell me—what kind of sword do you want?”
It was just a sword. If it couldn’t be bought, he’d forge it himself. Save money, make it happen!
Ji Fan watched his master’s trembling hands and winced. This was a huge expenditure! The master really was generous.
Song Zhen jumped for joy, waving her arms as she began describing her ideal sword.
“I want a pink one—darker than Senior Brother’s sword. It needs to have pretty patterns on it, and it has to be slim and long. The hilt shouldn’t be too long. Let me just draw the design myself!”
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