Chapter 68: Twin Swords of Chasing Light and Listening to Thunder

As it turned out, it truly was different—traveling by sword was simply irresistible!

But the most crucial part was that Mu Boyun’s flying sword could actually split into two, the twin swords of wind and thunder: Chasing Light and Listening Thunder.

Perhaps noticing Ji Yao's reluctance as she stepped onto the sword, looking as though she might fall at any moment, Mu Boyun formed a hand seal. The silver sword shimmered with a hint of emerald green, and within the blink of an eye, it transformed into another sword, transparent and jade-colored, quietly hovering at waist height above the ground.

Ji Yao was utterly stunned.

Gu Qiu, beside her, saw this and his eyes brightened. He abandoned his own sword, leaping down to examine the jade sword in detail, clicking his tongue in wonder.

“Brother Boyun, is this the fabled Chasing Light Sword?” Transparent—it was actually transparent!

Gu Qiu had never seen this sword before. He’d only ever heard the senior disciple mention it in passing. When Gu Qiu joined the sect, Mu Boyun had already formed his golden core, and both twin swords—his life-bound swords—had long since been nurtured within his core.

Even later, when facing enemies, Gu Qiu had only ever seen Mu Boyun wield the silver Listening Thunder Sword and had wondered why he never used the Chasing Light Sword.

Who could have guessed—the two swords were one, with Chasing Light always merged within Listening Thunder. Was this wind aiding thunder’s might?

No wonder Brother Boyun’s sword aura was always swift and overwhelming, its power astonishing. The complementary nature of the two elements was likely the origin of the name Chasing Light.

With both swords controlled by Mu Boyun and laid out side by side, Ji Yao started, losing her balance. Even if Mu Boyun tried to catch her, he couldn’t match the speed with which she toppled.

With an unceremonious “thud,” Ji Yao landed right on the swords. Remarkably, the combined width was just like half a door panel—much more comfortable than standing, to say nothing of the stability.

Could Ji Yao admit she did it on purpose? Of course not—who would choose to stand when they could sit?

But she couldn’t escape the meaningful look from a certain suspicious someone.

Before Ji Yao could compose her expression, her face stiffened. She shot Gu Qiu a covert glare, then prepared to turn to Mu Boyun with an appropriate demeanor.

Yet, as soon as she managed to utter “Master Mu—,” his amused voice cut her off.

“Let it be. If you wish to sit, just sit. You haven’t built your foundation yet, nor learned sword-riding. To expect you to stand as we do is a bit much; sitting is much safer.”

Mu Boyun, of course, noticed the silent exchange between Ji Yao and Gu Qiu. Still, he hadn’t expected the girl to dislike sword-riding. When she formally became his junior’s disciple, he already knew what gift he’d prepare for their first meeting.

Was this Mu Boyun giving her an excuse? Ji Yao’s cheeks colored with embarrassment, and she bowed her head gratefully. “Thank you for your understanding, Master Mu.”

In truth, standing on the flying sword was not as difficult for Ji Yao as they imagined.

After all, sword-riders needed to control the sword’s direction with their spiritual sense, infuse it with spiritual power to fly, and simultaneously shield themselves from the piercing winds with protective energy.

As a passenger, Ji Yao only needed to stabilize and shield herself with her own energy. When Gu Qiu had carried her earlier, Ji Yao had worried that maintaining her aura for too long would exhaust her spiritual energy, so she’d only stabilized herself without much protection.

It all came down to her being in the Qi Refining stage, forced to absorb spiritual energy manually. Once she reached Foundation Establishment, she’d be able to replenish herself automatically.

Without further delay, the three set out, riding their swords toward the Ascension Valley where the secret realm lay.

Mu Boyun stood in front of Ji Yao. Since she was sitting, Ji Yao had to crane her neck to see his upper body. She so desperately wanted to express her gratitude that, even if it meant keeping her head tilted up, she was determined to show her respect and appreciation.

After all, both he and Gu Qiu were focused on their journey, neither would notice her, nor would they probe her with their spiritual sense.

She probably looked a bit foolish, gazing up at his back so intently—perhaps even like someone smitten—but Ji Yao’s excitement was irrepressible.

What a good person! Ji Yao never expected that Mu Boyun, always so stoic and coldly beautiful, would prove to be so gentle and considerate.

The protective barrier of spiritual energy he placed around her was neither suffocating nor obtrusive. She could even sense a faint, refreshing scent in the air—traveling like this was far more pleasant than flying on a plane.

She wondered where the scent came from—it was actually quite pleasant, clearing her mind and refreshing her spirit. If circumstances allowed, Ji Yao would have loved to meditate right then and there.

Unconsciously, she sniffed the air a few more times, a contented smile spreading across her face.

Unbeknownst to her, the soft sound of her sniffing reached Mu Boyun’s ears, piquing his curiosity. He sent a thread of his spiritual sense to glance back at Ji Yao, catching this rather “eye-catching” behavior.

Whether it was embarrassing or not, no one could say. In any case, Mu Boyun’s expression remained unreadable, his face as impassive as ever. Only the faintest sign betrayed him: his half-closed eyelids, trembling lashes, and a blush creeping up behind his hairline.

Of course, this was not something Ji Yao—or Gu Qiu, busy keeping pace—would notice, but rather a certain powerful being, occasionally peering into the world with her spiritual sense from her own hidden space.

Ah! This child reminded her so much of A Heng in his youth. In the blink of an eye, hundreds of thousands of years had passed, and A Heng had grown into someone far beyond her reach, no longer showing the sweet dependence of his childhood.

As the sun dipped westward, two figures sped through the air, accompanied by a girl seated comfortably on a flying sword.

Mu Boyun glanced sideways at Gu Qiu, who refused to fall behind. Tension was visible on Gu Qiu’s face, his usually calm expression nowhere in sight. His slender hands gripped tightly, veins bulging beneath his pale skin, which occasionally trembled.

Mu Boyun lowered his gaze, hiding his amusement, and was the first to change direction, descending toward the forest below.

“Let’s stop to rest for a while before we continue.”

A flash of relief crossed Gu Qiu’s face, his tightly pressed lips relaxing. He followed Mu Boyun down into the trees.

Mu Boyun’s voice sounded again at just the right moment. “Junior Brother, hurry and meditate. We’ll only stop here for an hour.”

Abandoning his pride, Gu Qiu sheathed his sword, nodded to Mu Boyun, and immediately sat down to meditate.

Ah, even this little fox had his day. Ji Yao couldn’t help but recall how he’d looked after carrying her—just as pale and drained, if not worse.

Throughout the journey, Ji Yao had watched Gu Qiu like she’d discovered a new world, curious about his every move as he kept pace with Mu Boyun.

This trip had shown her that the two people she thought she knew were not at all as she’d imagined—what a surprise! Her curiosity was bursting; she itched to confirm her suspicions with Mu Boyun.

“Master Mu! I have a question for you.”

Mu Boyun raised a finger to his lips, signaling her to wait. Then, with a wave of his hand, he set up a spiritual barrier around Gu Qiu before allowing Ji Yao to continue.

Nevertheless, Ji Yao lowered her voice, mindful that her words concerned the meditator nearby.

“Master Mu, have you and Uncle Gu spent much time together?”