I like cyan; it looks more relaxed.

Outside the Sword Concealment Peak.

A middle-aged man with a beard rubbed his chin, his eyes filled with astonishment as he watched Lin Luoyu make her way toward the summit.

Every sword she passed seemed to extend an invitation to her.

This girl… could she be a Sword Attraction Physique?

Different sword intents represented different personalities—some were impatient, some calm, some decisive, and others sluggish.

They also reflected varying attitudes toward life.

No one could be liked by everyone, and by the same logic, no one should be favored by every sword.

But this girl… seemed different.

Almost every sword was drawn to her, except for a few with particularly extreme temperaments.

Though Lin Luoyu’s rapid progress was astonishing enough to send shivers down one’s spine, considering she had been recommended by Elder Bai, such advancement, while surprising, was still somewhat understandable.

But this human-shaped Sword Attraction Physique… truly left people puzzled.

Cang Jian had assumed that at this point, the girl would simply pick a sword that suited her and leave the peak, concluding her trial.

Yet, to his surprise, she was quite selective.

His gaze followed Lin Luoyu’s figure as she climbed higher.

Could this little girl’s goal actually be… that Qingming Sword?

A mere Foundation Establishment cultivator—wasn’t her ambition too grand?

Ever since Bai Xuanling embedded Qingming into the Sword Concealment Peak, the sword had only displayed its intent on the first day before falling silent, as if it had turned into an ordinary blade.

But that was to be expected. After all, this was the Qingming Sword wielded by Bai Xuanling.

Having witnessed Bai Xuanling’s peerless grace, how could any sword deign to acknowledge mere mortals afterward?

Even Lin Luoyu was no exception.

At least, that was what Cang Jian believed.

Once the girl faced rejection and realized Qingming was beyond her reach, this trial would finally come to an end.

Still, Cang Jian had to admit—Elder Bai’s eye for talent was unmatched.

To find such an exceptional sword cultivator seedling…

What an enviable gift…

He watched as Lin Luoyu ascended further, swords along the way continuously extending their invitations to her.

Sword intent surged wildly.

Yet, such enthusiasm wasn’t entirely a good thing. Lin Luoyu’s cultivation was too low, and she relied solely on her own sword intent to press forward.

Faced with such overwhelming intent, even the friendliest of swords weighed upon her like a mountain.

Cang Jian wasn’t sure how many times Lin Luoyu had attempted this climb.

Fifty? Sixty?

Her persistence was commendable.

But with each attempt, she inched closer, and through sheer accumulation, she truly drew nearer to the summit.

Cang Jian observed her struggling ascent—until suddenly, her movements became swift and fluid.

To his astonishment, she stepped onto a path no trial-taker had walked in years.

Right before his eyes, Lin Luoyu approached Qingming.

Until… she stood before it.

Lin Luoyu panted heavily, her gaze fixed on the unadorned green longsword that showed no trace of radiance.

Her exhaustion wasn’t due to any pressure from the sword itself—it was simply the toll of the arduous climb.

Had she taken even one more step, she might have collapsed.

Or if she lingered any longer, she might not have held on.

But the moment she entered the summit’s domain, the oppressive sword intent that had hounded her vanished.

This, it seemed, was the sword’s exclusive territory.

A flicker of excitement stirred in Lin Luoyu as she studied the blade.

Its hilt was plain, save for two unrestrained, carefree characters inscribed on its side—Qingming.

"Qingming…"

She read the name softly. It had a pleasant ring to it.

Lin Luoyu didn’t rush. Instead, she steadied her breathing and calmed her mind.

She didn’t dare hope to claim this sword, but she longed to know its story.

Gently, she extended her own sword intent toward Qingming.

Her intent brushed against the blade, yet Qingming remained unresponsive.

After waiting a moment with no reaction, Lin Luoyu wondered—what would her master do in this situation?

"Sorry… if you don’t respond, I’ll take it as permission."

A faint, sheepish smile crossed her lips. After all, she wasn’t accustomed to such boldness—her resolve still needed tempering.

Then, she reached out and lightly touched Qingming’s hilt.

The instant her fingertip made contact, Qingming finally stirred.

A tsunami of sword intent erupted.

Qingming blazed with spiritual light, surging toward Lin Luoyu as if to engulf her in its overwhelming force.

But another sword was faster—crossing an unfathomable distance in an instant, it shielded Lin Luoyu from the raging intent.

"Little girl, your greed knows no bounds. This is not something you can covet. Step back."

Cang Jian’s voice rang out behind her.

Lin Luoyu didn’t turn. Despite the protective sword before her, she continued to extend her own intent toward Qingming.

Against the towering sword intent, hers was like a tiny boat on a stormy sea, at risk of capsizing at any moment.

Cang Jian said nothing more. He had given his warning—a few strikes of sword intent would only mean a few extra days of recovery.

Lin Luoyu braced herself, but she knew one thing for certain—

If she retreated now, she might never hear this sword’s story.

Within Qingming’s overwhelming intent, one emotion stood above all—aloof pride.

This was a sword of absolute arrogance.

It would never share its tale with the timid.

Lin Luoyu’s sword intent surged forth, only to be swallowed instantly by Qingming’s might.

Yet, whether it was satisfaction with her purity, admiration for her courage, or simply the sword’s own loneliness after years of silence—

The raging intent suddenly softened, flowing like water over Lin Luoyu’s own, pulling her into the story sealed within the blade.

When Lin Luoyu opened her eyes, the desolate Sword Concealment Peak was gone.

Instead, she saw a younger version of Bai Xuanling—not in appearance, but in spirit—lounging in a chair beside a massive sword forge, his face alight with unrestrained joy.

The Bai Xuanling before her now carried an air of boundless confidence, as if the world itself was his to conquer.

The Bai Xuanling in her memories, by contrast, had always been as still as a deep, unreadable pool.

With a carefree laugh, the young Bai Xuanling declared:

"I prefer the color green—it feels more free."