Volume One: The Awakening of All Things, Perpetual Spring in Every Season Chapter Twenty-Five: A Sword Born of Destiny, Gathering Storms in the Northern Capital

“Sit wherever you like!”

Mo Wen spoke with the casual air of a host, inviting Su Qiang and Director You to take a seat. Before either could utter a word, he confessed with remarkable candor, “The Murong family’s destruction was my doing. What does the Police Directorate intend to do about it?”

Su Qiang fell silent, his lips twitching as if to speak, but he held his tongue. Director You’s face darkened with rage; he slammed the tea table, unable to restrain his fury.

“Do you realize how many lives you’ve taken? Sixty-three! Sixty-three living souls!”

Mo Wen neither affirmed nor denied the accusation. He gazed steadily at the enraged Director You and answered slowly, “The Murong family tried to kill me first—more than once, ambushing and hunting me down. By sheer luck, I survived each time. Am I to simply bow my head and await death when they come for me? Is that what you believe, Director?”

“Even after Murong Xiu was destroyed, you still refused to spare the rest. I admit your methods are formidable, but that does not give you license to act without restraint!”

Director You’s presence surged, as if preparing to subdue Mo Wen with a single blow.

The Sword Hound transformed into a blade and returned to Mo Wen’s hand of its own accord. The coal-black cat, deep in slumber, slept on, but the Sword Hound, brooding over its grievances, refused to be lenient on this matter.

A confrontation teetered on the edge of eruption when Lin Xi interjected, “Director You, in a few days it will be my father’s sixtieth birthday. Mo Wen and I will be returning to Beidu together. Today, you will not take him away. Do as you wish.”

Director You said nothing, turned on his heel, and departed, thinking to himself how thorny this affair had become—if he could extricate himself from it, so much the better. As he left Lin Xi’s house, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

This young man suits my tastes—quite impressive.

Su Qiang did not leave with Director You. He stood in silence for a long while before speaking slowly, “Does Uncle Lin know about Mo Wen’s journey to Beidu?”

A shadow flickered across Lin Xi’s face, but she quickly recovered, smiling. “Boss, since when have I ever needed anyone’s approval for what I choose to do?”

Su Qiang shook his head with a wry smile. For now, the authorities had refrained from acting against Mo Wen, largely due to Lin Xi’s efforts to protect him. The Lin family’s stance would determine the next move.

Beidu awaits—Mo Wen must go, no matter what.

All of Jiangnan watched the aftermath of the Murong family’s annihilation, expecting authorities to deal ruthlessly with Mo Wen, perhaps even execute him outright. Yet the situation failed to escalate further. Those with discernment sensed something different stirring beneath the surface.

Among Jiangnan’s four great Primal Insight families: the Murong family of Gusu—destroyed, their Primal Insight practitioner dead; the Wang family of Linhai—their Primal Insight master gone for a decade, fate unknown; the Mu family of Suhang—thriving in its prime; and the Zuo family of Jinling—their Primal Insight in seclusion for three years, rumored to have reached Supreme Freedom.

Mi Lu, it turned out, was of the Wang family. However, Wang Zhongyan belonged to a collateral branch, not the main line, and with the family’s Primal Insight master missing for years, their influence had waned. The Murong family’s oppression and bullying had gone unchecked as a result.

Mi Lu’s trip to the metropolis was to seek help. Most of the Wang family’s assets had been seized by the Murongs, but now, with the Murongs gone, their predicament was resolved in an instant. In recent days, Wang Zhongyan had been scrambling to reclaim the Murongs’ holdings, his fortunes soaring with each acquisition.

The other two great families remained cautious observers, making no enemies of the Wangs. In this upheaval, the Wang family had become the greatest indirect beneficiary.

Mi Lu was preparing to return home, but Wang Zhongyan advised her to linger a few days longer in the city. When the time came, she was to accompany Lin Xi to Beidu as her close confidante.

This move was meant to solidify ties with the Lin family of Beidu. With that bond, no one in Jiangnan would dare touch him, and his own standing within the Wang family would rise accordingly.

Mi Lu hung up, pursed her lips in annoyance, and glanced over at the couple who were once again flaunting their affection. Irritated and bored, she began to stroke the Sword Hound, who relished the attention.

Suddenly, an unexpected call came from Madam Huang—Zhao Tiansheng was summoning Mo Wen. Not daring to delay, he set out at once.

Inside the small building, Mo Wen was surprised that Zhao Tiansheng made no mention of the Murong affair, as if entirely ignorant of it. Instead, he began to tell Mo Wen about Lin Xi’s family background.

The Lin family—Supreme Freedom!

Mo Wen was shaken to his core at the mention of this name. Supreme Freedom—the apex of official evolution. No wonder Lin Xi feared no Primal Insight practitioners. The head of the Lin family, Lin Xi’s grandfather, had already attained Supreme Freedom before the world’s great changes, making him a figure of unshakable influence across China and even the globe.

Aside from this Supreme Freedom master, all seven sons of the Lin family were Primal Insight practitioners. Lin Xi’s father, Lin Tianci, was the seventh son, and her uncles were each more formidable than the last. The eldest, Lin Tianran, had long since attained Primal Insight and was rumored to be a hair’s breadth away from Supreme Freedom himself.

The second generation were all Primal Insight, the third generation masters of spiritual power. In particular, Lin Xi’s elder brother was reputed to be unrivaled beneath the level of Primal Insight.

With a casual air, Zhao Tiansheng recounted the Lin family’s situation to Mo Wen, then added with a hint of amusement, “Becoming a son-in-law of the Lin family is no easy matter. You’ve proven yourself by taking down a Primal Insight practitioner, but you can be sure there will be trials ahead. You’d best be prepared.”

Mo Wen offered a wry smile. Lin Xi, with her relentless determination, had driven both herself and him to the edge. Especially after annihilating the Murongs, there was no path left but to win the Lin family’s approval.

Seeing Mo Wen’s furrowed brow, Zhao Tiansheng felt a rare sense of satisfaction. Suddenly, he pretended to be angry. “You’ve been secretly studying my Inborn Sword technique, haven’t you? It’s one thing to learn it, but if you practice it so sloppily people will think my sword style is nothing but an empty show!”

Mo Wen grinned sheepishly and gave a deep bow. “Student Mo Wen pays respects to his teacher!”

Zhao Tiansheng was well pleased by this show of respect—this was a student worth teaching. He adjusted his glasses, his face betraying no emotion, and pulled a thread-bound book from the shelf, tossing it to Mo Wen. “Until you’ve truly mastered the Inborn Sword, you’re not to call yourself my disciple in public—or I’ll break your legs!”

Mo Wen accepted the book with a clownish smile, storing it away carefully. Seeing Zhao Tiansheng had nothing more to say, he took his leave.

Outside, he bowed deeply toward the building once more. The debt of gratitude owed to the director was beyond repaying: first for saving his life, then for passing on his skills. As it turned out, when Zhao Tiansheng had demonstrated the Inborn Sword technique with the Sword Hound that day, it was an intentional opportunity for Mo Wen to learn. If he failed to grasp it, the matter would simply end there.

Zhao Tiansheng watched from within, sighing helplessly. After a pause, he retrieved an old phone from a drawer, switched it on, and dialed a number. “Put me through to the old master.”

Time flew by, and the journey to Beidu drew near. Though Lin Xi laughed and joked by day, a trace of worry lingered in her brow. She had taken leave from the police directorate, and now spent her days with Mi Lu—shopping, getting manicures—never leaving each other’s side. Mo Wen ground his teeth in frustration; his peaceful life with Lin Xi had been thoroughly disrupted.

The Sword Hound seemed to have adapted well to life in the Lin household—it was rarely seen, sneaking about on unknown errands, appearing only at mealtimes.

Mo Wen devoted himself to practicing the Inborn Sword. The movements he had memorized before were now combined with the sword manual Zhao Tiansheng had given him, and he was utterly absorbed.

At last, on February 28, 2023—the day before their journey north—Mo Wen stood in the back garden of the Purple Garden, sword in hand, as if one with heaven and earth. Suddenly, he raised his blade—the skies seemed to shift, the Sword Hound danced in his grasp, and the sword energy swept out like a violent gale.

The Inborn Sword—mastered!

Though Zhao Tiansheng had created this sword art himself, its power now seemed to surpass even the resplendent “Starlit River” Lin Xi had once gifted him.

Narrowing his eyes, Mo Wen whispered, “Beidu, here I come!”