To enjoy prominence before others, one must endure hardship behind the scenes.

Upon seeing Su Jiu's reaction, Su Ji knew that his plan had succeeded—hook, line, and sinker!

Whether this actually involved the fate of the entire Great Xia Dynasty, Su Ji couldn't say for sure, given that he had made that part up on the spot.

But the fate of everyone in this city? That was no fabrication.

"Now, do you understand?"

Su Ji's voice drifted over, calm yet laced with a very natural, matter-of-fact weariness.

Su Jiu raised her head, looking at the man before her. Su Ji seemed to have lost his usual air of frivolous slackerhood.

Her lips moved, but not a single word came out.

Su Jiu could only nod her head heavily.

So, Su Ji had been deceiving her all along.

He had acted as though he was greedy for life and afraid of death...

But that was only because he could not die...

After witnessing with her own eyes the suffocating weight of the responsibility he bore, Su Jiu had no doubt that Su Ji's path ahead was fraught with peril.

"Just do as I said earlier."

"Take her, leave Anyang City, find a place to hide, and wait for me... to come back."

Su Jiu could hear it clearly—how incredibly difficult it was for him to say those last four words.

The dancer standing to the side had long been shocked into silence by the scene unfolding before her.

Although she couldn't understand the context of their conversation, she could feel an unspeakable sense of tragedy radiating from Su Jiu's shock and Su Ji's calm resolve—a resolve that seemed ready to face death without regret.

This Immortal Master was indeed... different.

Su Jiu's throat tightened. She wanted to say, "I won't go."

She wanted to say, "I'll go with you."

But the words reached her lips only to be forced back down.

It was true.

She was merely a Golden Core cultivator with her cultivation base sealed; what could she possibly do?

Staying behind would serve no purpose other than to distract Su Ji.

"I will... wait for your return."

In the end, it took every ounce of strength Su Jiu possessed to utter those words.

Su Ji waved his hand. "Go."

Su Jiu took one last, deep look at him, as if trying to carve his image into the depths of her soul.

Then, without another word, she grabbed the dancer—who was already streaming with tears—turned around, and left.

Her footsteps were heavier than they had ever been.

It wasn't until their figures completely disappeared behind the door that the expression on Su Ji's face slowly, bit by bit, collapsed.

Could someone please explain to him why Su Jiu was getting harder and harder to fool these days?!

Su Ji straightened his robes, which had been slightly ruffled by the wind.

He walked to the corner of the room and grabbed the long spear resting there.

After a moment of contemplation, Su Ji tossed it back.

It couldn't be helped.

The quality was just too low.

It simply couldn't handle the level of combat that was coming.

After he got back from this, he would have to find an opportunity to acquire a decent spear.

Besides, for this particular appearance...

It was definitely more suitable to appear as a Sword Cultivator.

Why?

Leaving aside whether Sword Cultivators were stronger than Spell Cultivators or Spear Cultivators...

The fact remained: Sword Cultivators were just cooler.

Then, Su Ji pushed open the door and walked out.

This time, he didn't deliberately hide his presence.

Instead, like an ordinary guest attending a banquet, he walked unhurriedly toward the City Lord's Mansion.

The streets were decorated with lanterns and colorful banners; festive red silk was visible everywhere.

The faces of the common folk were beaming with happy smiles.

Halfway there, Su Ji suddenly pulled a U-turn.

...

Deep in a desolate, narrow alley.

Su Ji sneakily poked half his head out, looking left and right.

After confirming there was absolutely no one around, he let out a long sigh of relief and slipped inside.

"Damn it."

Su Ji cursed under his breath. His face held not a trace of the tragic, self-sacrificing hero who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders.

How had his brain short-circuited just now?

Was he really going to just walk over there?

That would be way too tacky.

For such a highly anticipated occasion, under the gaze of thousands, if he didn't arrive flying on a sword, riding the wind, wouldn't it be a waste of a perfectly good opportunity to showb—

Cough.

What Su Ji meant was, such an entrance would make it easier for the people of Anyang City to believe the words he was about to say.

Su Ji untied the green ancient sword named "Whispering Wind" from his waist and examined it for a moment.

Then, mimicking the image of a Sword Immortal he had in his head, he tossed the ancient sword into the air before him.

The ancient sword traced a beautiful arc through the air before falling straight down with a loud "CLANG," kicking up a cloud of dust.

The alley was dead silent.

Su Ji—Sword Immortal in Training—wore a stiff expression.

Refusing to believe this was happening, he picked up the sword and tried again.

This time, he mobilized the spiritual energy within his body and carefully poured it into the blade.

"Hummmm—"

The ancient sword let out a soft cry and actually began to hover in mid-air, the blade vibrating slightly.

Success!

Joy surged in Su Ji's heart, and he hurriedly lifted his foot, preparing to step onto it.

But the moment the tip of his toe touched the blade...

Because of the added weight, the original amount of spiritual energy was insufficient to sustain it.

"Whispering Wind" acted like a startled loach; it jerked violently, slid right out from under his foot, and once again slammed into the ground with a "CLANG."

Su Ji stumbled, barely managing to stabilize himself with quick reflexes.

He had nearly fallen flat on his face.

Annoyed, Su Ji stepped forward and kicked the sword. "You call yourself an ancient divine weapon? Why are you so useless?"

Aren't cultivators supposed to be able to soar ninety thousand li with a single thought, carried by their magic swords?

Why was it that when it came to him, the thing couldn't even stand steady?

Was his posture wrong?

You see, Su Ji was a man who loved nothing more than changing positions at the drop of a hat, or experimenting with entirely new ones.

No sooner said than done.

Su Ji pondered for a moment, then suspended the sword in the air once more.

This time, he didn't rush to step on it. Instead, he closed his eyes, carefully feeling the connection between his own spiritual power and the sword's body.

It was a marvelous sensation.

It was as if the sword was no longer an inanimate object, but an extension of his own body.

He tried willing the blade to the left, and it moved left.

He tried willing it to the right, and it moved right.

Although it was still a bit sluggish and shaky, it was worlds apart from his attempt just a moment ago.

Su Ji took a deep breath and snapped his eyes open.

seizing the moment, he exerted force with his legs, leaped lightly, and landed steadily on the blade.

He did it!

Su Ji was ecstatic. Although the sword beneath his feet was swaying violently, like a drunkard, it didn't throw him off this time.

He bent his knees slightly, struggling to maintain his balance like a toddler just learning to walk, controlling the flying sword as it hovered three feet off the ground, wobbling and weaving its way forward through the alley.

"BANG!"

Su Ji's head slammed into the wall.

"CLANG!"

He fell off the sword yet again.

...

One hour later.

Su Ji stood atop the sword, feeling the breeze brush against his cheeks. A sense of freedom he had never felt before welled up inside him.

It was worth smashing into the wall seventeen or eighteen times.

If you want to shine in the spotlight, you have to suffer in the shadows.

Low profile. Keep it low profile.

This matter was strictly for his eyes only.