Young hero, stay put and don't be reckless.

Chapter 122 I Want to Live

Jiang Xun was struggling to stay afloat, and his body was covered in cuts.

The old wound on my shoulder reopened, and blood trickled down my arm, dripping onto the ground.

But he didn't back down; he gritted his teeth and performed the Spring Water Sword Technique from beginning to end again.

This time it's faster, more ruthless, and smoother.

The sword light surged like a tide, wave after wave, deflecting all the invisible swords.

The fourth layer is shimmering.

The fifth level, Canglang.

Sixth floor —

He suddenly stopped.

It's not that I don't want to use it, it's that I can't.

He pondered the sixth level, "Returning to the Sea," for a long time, but could never quite grasp its essence.

He originally thought that "returning to the sea" was extremely fast—so fast that it left no trace.

But now, pressed by the sword god's sword intent, he suddenly understood: the sixth level of the Spring Water Sword Technique is not "fast," but "nothingness." Without trace, without mark, without form or appearance.

Like water, you can't grasp it or stop it, because it's everywhere.

Jiang Xun closed his eyes and cleared his mind.

The sword intent surged like a tide, but he neither blocked nor dodged; instead, he merged with it.

His sword no longer blocked those invisible swords, but instead followed the direction of the sword intent.

If the sword intent is to the left, his sword will move to the left; if the sword intent is to the right, his sword will move to the right.

Like a fallen leaf, drifting with the current, yet not being submerged.

The sword intent suddenly softened.

She stopped attacking him, simply flowing past him like water. Jiang Xun's sword moved through the sword intent, faster and smoother.

He opened his eyes and thrust out a sword.

No sound.

There was no sound of air being cut, no sword cries, and even the sword light had faded.

The sword tip sliced ​​through the air like a drop of water falling into a lake, creating only a thin ripple.

Suddenly, all the sword marks on the stone wall lit up, and the dazzling white light illuminated the entire passageway as if it were daytime.

Jiang Xun instinctively closed his eyes, but the white light still penetrated his eyelids, burning his eyeballs painfully.

He felt his body lighten, as if he had been lifted up from the ground and gently put down. Only when his feet touched solid ground did the white light gradually dissipate.

He opened his eyes and found himself standing in a stone chamber.

"I'm done." Jiang Xun plopped down on the ground, panting heavily.

There were more than a dozen cuts of varying sizes all over my body, and they were all bleeding. It wasn't a serious injury, but it really hurt.

He took out the medicine that Lao Yu had given him from his pocket, sprinkled it haphazardly on several deep wounds, and wrapped them with a strip of cloth twice.

"Sword God Senior, you really went all out." He muttered to himself before standing up and looking around.

The stone chamber was small, about three zhang in circumference, and bare on all four sides, without doors or windows, not even a crack.

The air smelled of dry, dusty earth, like an old grave that had been sealed for hundreds of years.

In the center of the stone chamber sat a bronze mirror, extremely old, its surface covered with a layer of verdigris, making it blurry and unable to reflect any image.

"What is this?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the bronze mirror suddenly lit up.

A beam of white light shone from the mirror, enveloping him completely.

Jiang Xun's head sank, and the scene in the mirror instantly changed.

Jiangzhou City, East Market.

The air was filled with the smell of salted fish and rotten vegetable leaves, the ground was covered in dirty mud and water, and several ragged beggars squatted by the roadside.

A thin boy emerged from the alley, clutching an oil paper package in his hand, with a gash on his left arm, and ran very fast.

A voice roared from behind, "You little brat, you stole my buns again!"

That was... himself.

Jiang Xun was stunned.

The little boy ran into the alley, turned a few corners, and went into a dilapidated temple.

Several younger children in the temple gathered together, staring longingly at the oil paper package in his hand.

"Brother, you're back!"

"Brother, what did you bring today?"

"Steamed buns! It's steamed buns!"

The children cheered and hurriedly tore open the oil paper package, revealing four steaming hot buns inside.

Three steamed buns, four children.

The little boy handed the biggest one to the smallest girl, then smiled as he watched the other children divide the remaining two.

He didn't eat it himself.

Jiang Xun's eyes were a little wet.

Those were Ali, Xiaoqi, Shiliu... the orphans who suffered hunger and cold together in the dilapidated temple all those years.

The screen flashed.

Inside the dilapidated temple, an old man lay on straw, covered in wounds, surrounded by a putrid smell.

Young Jiang Xun squatted down beside him, feeding him medicine spoonful by spoonful.

"Old man, you said you'd take care of me in my old age if you didn't die. But if you do die, I'll throw you in a mass grave."

The old man didn't speak, he just smiled.

That's Shen Bufan.

He was rescued from a pile of corpses, taught to read, taught to steal, and finally passed on the Buzhou Tianyin Technique to his old man.

Jiang Xun felt a lump in his throat.

The scene then changes.

Yunzhou, Gu family.

That night, the men from Xingxiuhai stormed into the house, swords flashing and blood splattering.

Gu Yunqian lay on the bed, her eyes wide open. Those eyes, which used to curve into crescents, were now filled with fear and despair.

Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something—the dagger was already plunged into her throat, blood gushed out, and she stopped breathing.

"No--"

Jiang Xun roared and rushed forward, trying to grab something.

My palm struck the mirror; it was cold and hard, and I couldn't get anything out of it.

Fingers traced marks on the mirror surface.

The image in the mirror has changed.

The morning light was faint, and the long street was deserted.

The Thief Saint stood at the street corner, his back to him, and walked towards the direction of the Golden Feather Guard.

After taking a few steps, he raised his hand and waved it behind him—the hand swayed in the morning light, then fell back down and hung at his side.

"Master—"

No one answered.

In the morning light, only the sound of the wind and the faint sound of horses' hooves in the distance remained.

The scene changes again.

Li Che stood on the dock, his plain white robe fluttering in the wind like a white bird.

Li Tang stood under the osmanthus tree, smiling at him, her eyes crinkling into crescents, more dazzling than the sun.

At the Wuling City dock, Ajiu handed him a steaming hot sesame seed cake, its aroma so enticing that you could almost smell it through the screen.

Xu Chen stood at the entrance of the gambling den, shouting "Brother Jiang!" at the top of his lungs, his voice so loud that the whole street could hear it.

Faces and scenes flashed rapidly in the mirror, like a revolving lantern, dazzling him.

Every face was smiling at him, every voice was calling his name.

Jiang Xun stood in front of the mirror, tears streaming down his face, dripping onto the ground with a soft sound.

He remembered the old man's words—"You must live well."

He recalled the words of the Master Thief: "Wait for me to come back."

I remembered Li Tang's words—"Waiting for you to come back."

Jiang Xun took a deep breath, raised his sleeve and wiped his face haphazardly, drying his tears, and stared at the mirror again.

This time, it was his face reflected in the mirror.

Seventeen years old, with thick, dark eyebrows, bright, sparkling eyes, and a roguish smile on his lips.

Although his face was covered in bruises, he still looked quite energetic.

"I want to live," he said to himself in the mirror, his voice not loud, but steady and clear.

The bronze mirror is broken.

It doesn't actually shatter; rather, it spreads outwards like ripples from the center of water, causing the image in the mirror to become distorted, blurred, and then disappear.

As the ripples subsided, the mirror turned gray and could no longer reflect anything.

"Good heavens, this illusion array is ruthless." Jiang Xun took a deep breath and steadied his mind.

That bronze mirror is used to test one's character.

People with weak willpower will get trapped in illusions and cannot get out. At best, they will suffer mental damage, and at worst, they will become mentally impaired.

Fortunately, although he came from a humble background, he had a strong will.

Those hardships didn't break him; instead, they made him clearer about what he wanted.

Jiang Xun turned around and walked towards the door at the end of the stone chamber.