After leaving Jian Yun in Hongyue's care, Yun Lintian made his way through Nine Firmament City, Linlin and Qingqing perched comfortably on his shoulders. The city bustled with activity—merchants hawked their wares, cultivators trained in open courtyards, and children laughed as they played near fountains.
But Yun Lintian's mind was elsewhere.
The Human Emperor Sword...
Fan Shen had left it to him before his death, a final act of repentance. But the sword was broken, its blade shattered into two pieces. If he wanted to return it to the Profound Continent as promised, he needed it repaired.
And there was only one person in Nine Firmament City who could do that…
The outer district of the city was quieter, the streets lined with elegant courtyards reserved for honored guests. At the end of a winding path, surrounded by blooming peach trees, stood a modest but well-kept residence.
This was Tie Muqiu's home.
Yun Lintian pushed open the wooden gate and stepped inside. The courtyard was serene—a small pond filled with koi fish, a stone pavilion at its center, and the faint scent of iron and fire lingering in the air.
There, beneath the pavilion's shade, sat Tie Muqiu.
She wore a simple white robe, her black hair tied into a simple ponytail. A cup of tea rested in her hands as she idly tossed fish food into the pond, watching the koi dart beneath the water's surface.
She didn't look up as Yun Lintian approached.
"You're disturbing my fish," she said flatly.
Linlin pouted. "Rude!"
Qingqing giggled. "She's always , Big Brother Yun!"
Yun Lintian chuckled and sat down opposite her. "You seem comfortable."
Tie Muqiu finally glanced at him, then at the two little troublemakers on his shoulders. Without a word, she poured three more cups of tea and slid them forward.
During Yun Lintian's absence, Linlin and Qingqing would come here to play and their relationship with Tie Muqiu had become stronger.
Linlin immediately hopped down and grabbed one, sipping loudly. Qingqing followed, even more greedily.
Yun Lintian took his cup. "Have you adapted well?"
Tie Muqiu exhaled, leaning back. "It's... not bad."
Then, quietly, she added, "Better than I expected."
Yun Lintian nodded. He remembered how she had been when he first brought her here—hollow-eyed, listless, her purpose fulfilled after forging the God Slaying Sword. She had even tried to end her life, believing there was nothing left for her.
Her fingers tapped against the teacup, alive with energy. Her gaze, though still sharp, no longer carried that crushing weight of despair.
She had found something here.
A reason to keep going.
Tie Muqiu narrowed her eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Yun Lintian smiled and said. "You look much better now compared to the first time you came here."
Tie Muqiu raised her brow and said. "Shut up."
A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the occasional splash of koi fish.
Then, Tie Muqiu set her cup down. "So? What do you want?"
Yun Lintian reached into his spatial ring and withdrew the broken halves of the Human Emperor Sword, placing them on the table between them.
Tie Muqiu's fingers twitched. She picked up one of the fragments, turning it over in her hands. Her blacksmith's instincts immediately kicked in—her eyes traced the blade's edge, the flow of its metal, the faint etchings of divine runes along its surface.
"...This is a Primordial artifact," she murmured. "Forged during the era of gods."
Yun Lintian raised an eyebrow. "You can tell?"
She shot him an unimpressed look. "Do you think I'd be my father's daughter if I couldn't?"
Qingqing giggled on the side upon hearing this. She loved how Tie Muqiu retorted Yun Lintian.
Yun Lintian ignored the little girl. "So? Can you repair it?"
Tie Muqiu frowned, running her thumb along the broken edge. "It's not just a matter of reforging the metal. This sword... it's special."
"It's tied to faith," she said simply.
Yun Lintian blinked. "Faith?"
Tie Muqiu nodded. "The Human Emperor Sword doesn't just draw power from its wielder—it draws power from the belief of mortals. The more people believe in its legend, the stronger it becomes. That's why the God of Mortal was so powerful—he fed on the faith of countless souls."
Yun Lintian nodded slowly.
Tie Muqiu continued, "To repair this, I'd need more than just materials. I'd need to reignite its connection to the people."
Yun Lintian leaned forward. "How?"
She set the fragment down. "Two things. First—a divine forge, one capable of handling Primordial-level energy. Second—a spark of mortal faith, something to relight the sword's flame. I have the divine forge."
"Faith…" Yun Lintian frowned slightly. His gaze drifted toward the city beyond the courtyard walls.
Nine Firmament City was filled with people—many of them mortals who had been saved by Yun Lintian's actions. If anyone could reignite the sword's power...
Tie Muqiu followed his line of sight, then snorted. "You're thinking of using your own reputation?"
Yun Lintian grinned. "Would it work?"
She rolled her eyes. "Maybe. But it's not that simple. The sword needs to remember its purpose. It needs to remember what it was forged for."
Yun Lintian nodded slowly. "Then we'll remind it."
Tie Muqiu exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Fine. But don't blame me if this blows up in your face."
Qingqing pumped her tiny fists. "Yay! Sword fixing time!"
Linlin tilted her head cutely. "Can we watch?"
Tie Muqiu glared at them. "No. You'll get in the way."
The two immediately deflated, pouting.
Yun Lintian chuckled. "Just watch from the side." Then, to Tie Muqiu, "When can you start?"
Tie Muqiu stood, brushing off her robes. "Now. But you're helping."
Yun Lintian blinked. "Me?"
She smiled meaningfully. "You're the one who wants it fixed. So you're going to be my hammer."
Qingqing burst out laughing. "Big Brother Yun—a hammer!"
Yun Lintian sighed. "...Fine."
Tie Muqiu's workshop was a stark contrast to the tranquility of her courtyard. The air here was thick with heat, the walls lined with racks of tools and half-finished projects. At its center stood a massive anvil, its surface scarred from countless strikes.
But the most striking feature was the forge itself—a swirling vortex of golden flames, fueled not by ordinary fire, but by divine energy.
Yun Lintian whistled. "You've upgraded."
Tie Muqiu ignored him, rolling up her sleeves. "Put the sword pieces on the anvil."
He did as instructed, carefully placing the broken halves side by side.
Tie Muqiu took a deep breath, then raised her hands. The golden flames roared to life, surging toward the fragments. The metal glowed red-hot, then white-hot, but it didn't melt—instead, the broken edges began to reach for each other, as if drawn by an invisible force.
"Now," Tie Muqiu commanded. "Strike it."
Yun Lintian didn't hesitate. He summoned the God of War's authority, his fist slamming down onto the blade with enough force to shake the workshop.