Shen Wanglan was originally a ghost child, but through a fortuitous encounter, he took human form and cultivated until he reached the Core Formation stage before gradually growing up.
When he was thirty years old, his body still resembled that of a sixteen-year-old boy—very youthful.
To celebrate his Core Formation, Shen Gurong took him to the Sword Pavilion to buy a sword.
Shen Wanglan looked remarkably like Shen Fuji, appearing gentle and refined, but in reality, he was a playful and mischievous person, easily fooling those he didn't know well.
When the two arrived at the Sword Pavilion, the Pavilion Master greeted them with great joy.
Shen Gurong nodded slightly, gathered his wide sleeves, and led Shen Wanglan familiarly to the Sword Tomb.
Shen Wanglan grew up with Shen Gurong from a young age, and later became a disciple of Lin Shuhe, the number one divine physician in the Three Realms. Everyone in the Three Realms knew that because Shen Gurong doted on Shen Wanglan so much, and because the two looked extremely alike, many people believed that the child was Shen Gurong's illegitimate son.
When the Pavilion Master saw that it was the Holy Lord Shen bringing the young Holy Lord to choose a sword, he knew it was a big order. He abandoned his wheelchair and strode forward, introducing the swords to Shen Wanglan, who was visiting the Sword Tomb for the first time.
"Young Holy Lord cultivates the Ghost Path; it's best not to choose a fierce sword, otherwise it will be difficult to tame."
The handsome young man raised an eyebrow slightly, radiating youthful vigor: "I want to choose a fierce sword."
The Pavilion Master was taken aback, then kindly advised: "Young Holy Lord, you really can't handle this fierce sword..."
Shen Gurong glanced at him.
The Pavilion Master immediately changed his tune, saying, "But given Little Holy Lord's talent and cultivation, what sword can't he wield? You can choose a lower-ranked, fierce sword; that way..."
Before he could finish, Shen Wanglan pointed and arrogantly declared, "I want Lin Xia Chun."
The Pavilion Master: "..."
Even Shen Gurong raised an eyebrow slightly: "Are you sure?"
Decades ago, Shen Gurong had already broken the bond he had formed with Lin Xia Chun. Lin Xia Chun lived a comfortable and carefree life alone in the Sword Tomb.
Because Lin Xia Chun was a sword once used by Shen Gurong, and possessed the prestige of a Holy Lord, no one dared to form a bond with him again, allowing Lin Xia Chun to enjoy a long period of undisturbed, carefree life.
But his good days came to an abrupt end today.
Lin Xia Chun didn't know how long he had slept before being forcibly awakened.
He had a good temper and no morning grumpiness. He slowly transformed into human form in his sea of consciousness, and upon seeing the young man who had invaded his sword sea, he suddenly froze.
Lin Xia Chun, still half-asleep and somewhat disoriented, stammered, "Holy Lord?"
Shen Wanglan smiled at him, his eyes crinkling, "No, I'm the Little Holy Lord."
Lin Xia Chun, probably not expecting anyone to be so shameless as to call himself the Little Holy Lord, paused for a moment. Shen Wanglan then leaned over, tugging at his sleeve, and said with a beaming smile, "Uncle, I've found you."
Lin Xia Chun stared at him blankly for a long time before realizing that this child was the same Shen Wanglan whom Shen Gurong had sent to Liren Peak years ago.
He said "Oh," and then asked, "Can I go back to sleep?"
"No," Shen Wanglan smiled. "I want Uncle to be my natal sword."
Lin Xia Chun tilted his head, softly refusing, "I don't want to."
Shen Wanglan raised an eyebrow, his youthful energy overflowing with a spirit that Lin Xia Chun found irresistible: "But I want you."
Lin Xia Chun was incredibly sleepy, finding being a human sword spirit troublesome, but refusing this stubborn little brat seemed even more troublesome. So he could only furrow his brow and ponder deeply, quickly becoming exhausted.
"I'm so tired," Lin Xia Chun said. "I don't want to think, I don't want to choose, please let me go."
"You just want to avoid trouble, is that it?" Shen Wanglan asked.
Lin Xia Chun nodded: "Yes."
Shen Wanglan coaxed him gently: "Once you become my sword, I won't make you do anything. You can sleep as long as you want, okay?"
Lin Xia Chun looked at him questioningly, wanting to ask, "Then what do you want me to do?" but before he could even speak, he felt it was too much trouble.
"Really?"
Shen Wanglan's eyes flickered slightly, and he chuckled softly, "Really."
Lin Xia Chun, too lazy to question further, nodded, "Okay."
Shen Wanglan's eyes narrowed.
A moment later, Shen Wanglan emerged from the sword tomb, holding Lin Xia Chun, and gave Shen Gurong a smug smile.
Shen Gurong was surprised that Lin Xia Chun had actually chosen a master again, and asked in astonishment, "How did you convince him?"
Shen Wanglan smiled innocently, "I promised him that once he became my sword, he could sleep as long as he wanted, and no one would disturb him."
Shen Gurong: "..."
That was indeed a condition Lin Xia Chun would agree to.
Shen Gurong sighed and said, "Then you must treat him well from now on; he really hates trouble."
Shen Wanglan smiled, "Of course." He gently stroked the blade of Lin Xia Chun, his eyes filled with tenderness.
Shen Wanglan had spent a hundred years in Huitang City, and the first time he truly went out was while holding Lin Xia Chun's hand.
That was the first time he saw the sunrise, the world's splendor, and the myriad worldly affairs slipping through his fingers.
Lin Xia Chun, holding his hand, walked forward expressionlessly.
Shen Wanglan, seeing the world for the first time, found even the mud and sand beneath his feet fascinating. He murmured to Lin Xia Chun, "Uncle, am I dreaming?"
Lin Xia Chun thought children were troublesome, asking such trivial questions.
He stopped and lightly tapped Shen Wanglan, though he'd probably gotten lazy halfway through, so the tap didn't hurt much.
Lin Xia Chun said, "If it hurts, it's not a dream."
Shen Wanglan rubbed his forehead, looking at Lin Xia Chun expectantly.
Lin Xia Chun had a headache, but couldn't resist the look, so he bent down, picked him up, and explained in a voice too lazy to even speak.
"That's the sunrise."
"That's the sea."
"That's blooming flowers."
That's the world's splendor."
The most unforgettable dream in Shen Wanglan's life was his first return to Huitang City. That languid man, fighting off sleep, embraced him and told him about the three thousand worlds.
His small, childlike hands tugged at the man's sash.
Decades later, he had grown into a man, his hand tightly gripping Lin Xia Chun's sword hilt, enveloping it entirely in his warm palm.
I've found you.
Comments
Post a Comment