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墨書 Inktalez
The Master’s gaze was fixed intently on Bing Lie, as if he could see deep into his soul. Those eyes radiated wisdom and insight, as if every struggle and emotion was laid bare before him. His voice was low and clear, echoing in the tranquil space of the soul: “Bing Lie, I sense the turmoil within you… This kind of chaos hasn’t surfaced in twenty years.”
Bing Lie trembled slightly; although he remained kneeling, his head bowed to avoid the Master’s penetrating gaze. His palms rested gently on his knees, fingers curling slightly as if suppressing something. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice tinged with rare hesitation: “Recently… there has been a swordsman. His appearance reminds me of my past self.”
Though his voice was subdued, that brief statement carried a weight of emotion, like a stone thrown into a lake, creating ripples that spread outward. The air seemed to thicken with pressure, making the entire space feel unusually heavy.
The Master listened in silence for a moment before bursting into laughter that resonated throughout the space, filled with a carefree and unabashed disdain. “Reckless and impulsive, lacking an understanding of righteousness and the way of the sword—aren’t there enough such people on this continent?”
His tone dripped with a mocking delight, as if the swordsman Bing Lie mentioned was nothing more than an inconsequential figure. The Master shook his head gently, his eyes reflecting a weariness and helplessness towards the world. “Over the years, swordsmen have come and gone on this continent, all too similar. They are obsessed with power and chase after hollow fame, yet fail to grasp the true meaning of the sword.”
Bing Lie pressed his lips together tightly, still keeping his head down as if silently accepting the Master’s words. Yet within his gaze lay a hidden struggle, as if battling certain thoughts deep within.
“But you, Bing Lie,” the Master’s voice suddenly dropped, carrying an undeniable weight. “You have long surpassed that stage. Why let yourself waver because of an inconsequential shadow?”
Bing Lie did not respond immediately; he merely lifted his head slightly, fixing his gaze on the ground. He understood the truth in the Master’s words, but that swordsman’s shadow felt like a thorn that could not be easily removed. The memories and resonance were deeply etched in his heart.
After a moment of silence, Bing Lie finally raised his head again, though his eyes still flickered with an unmasked shame. “To be honest… I don’t understand why it is this way.” His voice was low and filled with a rare helplessness. “That person’s skills are lacking—flashy and chaotic—far inferior to my own level.”
He paused as if weighing his words carefully before taking a gentle breath and continuing: “But his impulsiveness… and that passion in his heart seem to awaken something deep within me…”
Bing Lie’s voice trembled slightly in the air; his fingertips unconsciously dug into his knees as if trying to mask the turmoil within. Confusion filled him—why could a swordsman so different from himself stir feelings in a heart that should have been as calm as still water?
The Master listened to him without immediate response, closing his eyes and letting out a soft hum—a sound gentle yet profound—as if savoring each word Bing Lie had just spoken. His hand rested lightly on his knee as he nodded slightly, gazing into the void as if lost in thought or memory, tasting something only he could comprehend.
Bing Lie looked up at his master’s expression, unable to decipher the thoughts behind that calm face. There was no excess emotion displayed, only an unfathomable steadiness. This made Bing Lie increasingly uneasy; he did not know what his words had stirred in his master, nor whether this confession had exposed his own vulnerabilities.
He lowered his head, his brow slightly furrowed, a wave of tension rising within him. He had never doubted that he was on the path of Kong Si, but at this moment, the inexplicable confusion filled him with fear. He began to question whether his heart had strayed from the road he had steadfastly followed for many years.
“Master…” Bing Lie spoke softly, wanting to say something, but the words caught in his throat. His hands tightened slightly, knuckles whitening as if trying to suppress the turmoil within, waiting for his master’s guidance or an answer that could bring him relief.
Just as Bing Lie was about to speak, his master suddenly interrupted him with a deep and powerful voice: “Bing Lie, where is Kong Ren?”
The question came unexpectedly, leaving Bing Lie momentarily stunned. He raised his head, confusion in his eyes, only to see that there was no excess expression on his master’s face—only a profound and distant gaze that seemed to penetrate into his very soul.
“During your journey on the mainland,” his master’s voice carried a thoughtful tone, steady yet impossible to ignore, “did you ever find the relic of Kong Si… Kong Ren?”
The name struck Bing Lie like a bolt of lightning to his heart; his breath caught slightly, and his gaze quickly darkened. He lowered his head, avoiding his master’s eyes, hands tightly gripping his knees as if the pressure was too much for him to bear.
“Master…” His voice was low, tinged with an unmistakable regret. “I have tried countless avenues, following rural tales and traversing many legendary hidden places…” He paused for a moment, fists clenching slightly, knuckles turning white as if even the memories were exhausting.
“Yet every adventure reached its end… only to be met with another sigh.” He kept his head down, a hint of helplessness and self-reproach lacing his tone as if he had let down some expectation.
Silence fell within the realm of their souls for a brief moment, only the wind whispering in the distance. His master did not respond immediately; however, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly into an almost imperceptible smile. There was no blame or disappointment in that smile; instead, it held a hint of satisfaction—as if confirming something already known.
“Very well,” his master finally spoke, a gentle pleasure in his tone. “Bing Lie, you understand that Kong Ren is not so easily found, right?”
Bing Lie raised his head and looked at his master’s expression; it seemed that the burden in his heart had lightened somewhat. Yet he still felt confused—why had his master suddenly brought up Kong Ren? Did this legendary relic truly exist in this land? And what unspoken answer lay hidden behind his master’s smile?
The master's gaze grew increasingly profound as he slowly spoke, his voice resonating like a low chant among the mountains, carrying an undeniable weight. "Bing Lie, as the last disciple of Kong Si, you understand the heavy responsibility on your shoulders better than anyone... Kong Ren must be retrieved."
These words struck Bing Lie like a thunderbolt, landing heavily on his heart. He lowered his head further, his back slightly hunched, fists clenched tightly on his knees. The pressure on his shoulders felt almost tangible, suffocating him. A bitter smile crossed his mind; this mission had never strayed far from him since the day he embarked on his journey. Now, with the master's reminder, he felt an even greater sense of helplessness.
"Master..." Bing Lie said softly, his tone laced with an unmistakable fatigue. "I understand... but this continent is so vast. Where exactly is Kong Ren? I've searched for so many years and found nothing..."
The master did not respond immediately. His gaze seemed to traverse countless hardships, imbued with ancient wisdom and insight. After a pause, his tone deepened. "Yankeeper."
The brevity of those three words made Bing Lie's heart tighten suddenly. He raised his head slightly, confusion and wariness flickering in his expression.
"That man who disturbs your heart," the master's voice was calm yet hinted at something deeper. "He carries the blades of countless strong warriors across this continent. Perhaps... Kong Ren is in his hands."
Bing Lie's eyes widened in disbelief as he shot up his head, astonishment and doubt flashing across his face as if seeking some denial in the master's expression. "Impossible..." His voice trembled slightly as he murmured, "How could that man possibly possess Kong Ren?"
The master remained composed, his gaze steady like a deep sea. A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth, suggesting he had anticipated Bing Lie's reaction.
"Why is it impossible?" the master asked gently, his tone calm yet firm. "Bing Lie, you should know better than anyone that every blade on this continent has its own story. And that man possesses not just a blade but also the dreams and obsessions of all swordsmen."
Bing Lie was taken aback, images of that mad swordsman—Yan Kong—surfacing in his mind. He was reluctant to believe the master's words, yet deep down he could not ignore the possibility. Was that man's blade truly Kong Ren? The thought pierced him like a sharp sting, embedding itself deeply in his heart.
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