"Haa…" Letting out a deep sigh, Ling Ye turned his gaze toward the window.
Outside, the sky stretched endlessly clear and blue, yet scattered with drifting gray white clouds. They moved slowly, constantly shifting, forming and dissolving into countless shapes.
Watching them, Ling Ye's chaotic thoughts began to settle and little by little, his mind calmed. For a while, he simply stared at the sky, but eventually, boredom crept in and with a quiet breath, he pushed himself up from the chair and stood. His eyes swept across the room briefly before he walked toward the small table beside his bed.
Reaching out, he picked up his sheathed dagger and for a moment, he studied it.
Then, carefully, he adjusted it within his new robe, testing different positions until he found one that was both comfortable and well hidden. Once satisfied, he secured it firmly at his waist.
Next, he took his money pouch and slipped it into the inner pocket of his robe, ensuring it was safely concealed. With his most important belongings hidden, Ling Ye reached toward the old, broken sword resting against the wall, but his hand stopped midway.
He froze for a moment, his gaze lingering on the Sword blade. Now, he knew what this sword is, as the notebook's owner had written about it and although the notebook's owner had changed swords many times over the years, growing stronger and more skilled with each passing stage, he had ultimately settled on this one.
Yet now, looking at it, Ling Ye couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment.
This was supposed to be the White Divine Sword the owner had once described with such pride in his writings, but the blade before him bore little resemblance to that name and yes, the sword still carried a faint trace of white, giving it a somewhat dignified appearance, perhaps enough to call it a Righteous Sword at best.
But divine? Definetly not anymore, as the Sword blade no longer shone, with time had left its marks clearly upon it, small imperfections, worn edges, and a dulled surface that reflected none of the brilliance it once might have had and most importantly, It isn't sharp, not even close.
What once had been called a White Divine Sword had now become nothing more than a dull, aging Sword, one that looked slightly refined, but carried no real presence.
Seeing it like this, Ling Ye couldn't help but feel a faint heaviness in his heart. After all, for a swordsman of such apparent strength, to die with this very sword still in his possession, it meant that this sword had been his companion until the very end.
The weapon he had relied on and the sword he had carried with him, as he carved his way through the Great Forest and although this spoke of the notebook owner's strength, that his sword had not shattered and was still usable despite its worn state, the dullness of the blade could not be ignored.
Still, Ling Ye considered another possibility and perhaps the sword was not as ordinary as it appeared.
After all, his own dagger looked simple at first glance, yet it was anything but. It could pierce through nearly anything a mortal possessed and was even capable of injuring low level cultivators and maybe, this sword is similar.
"Perhaps it's like my dagger…" Ling Ye thought, a faint trace of hope rising within him.
With that in mind, he decided that the sword deserved a proper inspection. If possible, he would seek out a skilled blacksmith, someone capable of restoring its edge, or at least revealing its true nature.
Carefully, he fastened the old sword to his thin green belt, securing it firmly and then, he attached his water pouch as well.
Now, only one item remained on the table, the Fate Guiding Compass.
Ling Ye's gaze lingered on it, with his expression grew more complicated as time passed. Afterall what should he do with it? To him, it now felt almost useless and selling it was now not an option.
If a cultivator were to see it, they wouldn't bargain, they would simply take it. Ling Ye was well aware that, in the eyes of cultivators, he held no extra ordinary status in the world of cultivators, with no power to even reject a cultivator and so he has no right to even negotiate with one.
At best, If he ever chose to part with it, he would need to deal with someone he could trust. Perhaps a known cultivator family, one with some sense of order and restraint.
Otherwise, it would only bring him danger and for now, Ling Ye could only leave it where it is, his thoughts lingering on it longer than he would have liked.
"Maybe selling it to them would be possible…" Ling Ye briefly thought of three familiar faces, members of cultivator families he had once known. but after a moment, he shook his head lightly.
"Let's not think about it now." With that, he made a simple decision and for now, the compass would remain nothing more than an ordinary object in the eyes of others and carefully, he picked it up and hid it within his robe, concealing it as if it were just a common compass.
There was nothing left to prepare and so Ling Ye took the key to his room, slipped it into the inner pocket of his robe, and turned toward the door and without hesitation, he stepped out.
Now standing in the hallway of the inn, Ling Ye began walking toward the entrance. It didn't take long.
The inn is small, with only a single floor. A narrow corridor connected all the rooms, leading directly to the front counter.
His room had been at the far end of the left side and Bai Da's was right next to it and as he walked, Ling Ye soon spotted the old man sitting behind the counter. The innkeeper was leaning back in his chair, holding an open book, clearly absorbed in reading, but as Ling Ye approached, his footsteps echoed softly through the quiet space.
The old man's ears twitched slightly and lifted his head and his gaze fell upon Ling Ye, now dressed in a simple green robe.
The moment Ling Ye approached, the old man grew visibly nervous and he quickly stood up and gave a polite fist salute, his movements slightly stiff.
"Greetings, sir," he said respectfully. "How may this old man assist you?"
Seeing his reaction, Ling Ye smiled helplessly and shook his head lightly. He could clearly sense the old man's lingering caution, even fear, so the old man, noticing Ling Ye's expression, became a little embarrassed, but he didn't lower his posture. Instead, he remained respectful, waiting for Ling Ye to speak.
"Old Zhao," Ling Ye began calmly, his tone gentle to ease the tension, "I'd like to visit a blacksmith. My sword has suffered some damage to its blade, and I'm hoping to have it repaired."
He paused briefly before continuing, "Does Green Path Village have someone capable of handling such work?"
Hearing this, the old man relaxed slightly. He lowered his hands and thought for a moment, his brows furrowing as he considered the question, then he nodded.
"Sir, our humble Green Path Village does have a few blacksmiths," he replied. "However… we are not a village focused on warfare. Most of our people specialize in herbs and medicine."
He hesitated slightly before continuing honestly, "So I cannot guarantee the quality of their work when it comes to weapons."
Then his expression brightened a little, "But, there is one person I can recommend. A friend of mine, Jiao Man and he is likely the most skilled in the village when it comes to weapons, as he is the only one who truly specializes in them."
Ling Ye returned the gesture with a respectful fist salute, nodding in gratitude for the old man's recommendation and after Old Zhao carefully explained the way to Jiao Man's place, Ling Ye turned and finally left the inn.
Stepping outside for the first time since entering, Ling Ye paused for a brief moment, he lifted his head.
The sky stretched wide above him, clear and open. The warmth of the sun fell gently on his face, while a light, cool breeze brushed past him, refreshing after the stillness of the room.
He nodded slightly, satisfied and without wasting time, Ling Ye set off alone, following the directions Old Zhao had given him.
It didn't take long and Green Path Village was small, and Jiao Man's forge was not far from the inn. After only a short walk, Ling Ye found himself standing before the blacksmith's place.
Old Zhao had said it would take about ten minutes to reach Jiao Man's place and yet, within those few short minutes, Ling Ye found himself seeing far more than he had expected.
As he walked through the village at an unhurried pace, his surroundings slowly unfolded before him. With each step, his understanding of Green Path Village deepened.
It is lively and far more lively than he had imagined.
Villagers moved constantly through the narrow paths, their footsteps were steady and purposeful. There was no idle wandering, or wasted motion, with everyone seemed to have somewhere to be, something to do.
Many carried baskets filled with herbs, freshly picked, carefully sorted, or already prepared for use, with women walked alongside young girls, teaching them how to distinguish plants.
Men spoke quietly with boys, guiding them through tasks with practiced ease. There is no clear divide between work and life and they blended together naturally and seamlessly.
What surprised Ling Ye the most was not the busyness, but the harmony and no one appeared rushed or seemed burdened.
Despite the constant movement, there was a calm rhythm to everything, as if the entire village moved to the same unspoken understanding, it felt unified, as if every person here was working toward something shared.
It seemed meaningful and Ling Ye had never seen anything like it before, not even in his former clan.
There, people had roles, duties, hierarchies, but never this kind of quiet cooperation and the other villages he had passed through? They were nothing like this and compared to them, Green Path Village felt almost alive.
For the first time since arriving, Ling Ye couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of amazement, this place is truly something different.
Still immersed in his thoughts, Ling Ye walked through the village, his mind filled with quiet amazement, before long, he spotted it, a small, somewhat isolated blacksmith's shop.
The blacksmith's shop stood slightly apart from the other buildings, with more space around it than usual. The structure itself looked old, its wood worn by time, giving it a lonely, almost forgotten feeling, but Ling Ye did not judge it by appearance.
Whether old or newly built, what mattered was the skill within, not the look of the place and without hesitation, he stepped inside, with the interior being quiet.
Ling Ye's eyes swept across the room, but he found no one present. For a moment, he stood still, then decided to wait and since he had time, he began to take a closer look around, with the shop being simple.
WIth only a few weapons were displayed, some swords, a couple of spears, each placed neatly with small price tags beside them, but there is nothing particularly eye catching for Ling Ye.
Nothing that drew his interest, even the weapons themselves seemed ordinary. With Ling Ye's gaze moved on, scanning the rest of the room, searching for anything of note, but just as he was about to look further.
"Creak…" The closed door behind the counter slowly opened and Ling Ye's attention shifted immediately, as from within, a middle aged man stepped out.