The Trash Sect's Ascension - chapter 2

The next day, at the break of dawn, I rose from bed, throwing on my clothes.

From beneath the stone mill used daily to grind soybeans, I dug out a rusted, broken sword.

I touched the hilt with a hint of nostalgia. The characters “Xian Shuang” engraved on it were already blurred and indistinct.

Ever since the Old Man brought me back to the Sunset Glow Sect, this sword that had accompanied me since childhood had been buried here.

It was like a piece of ordinary iron, exposed to wind and sun, battered by rain and eroded by soil, and occasionally splashed with a few drops of soybean milk from the stone mill.

Compared to the days when it was worshipped with incense and prayers, admired by all, its current treatment was worlds apart.

The red sun was about to burst forth on the horizon.

I gripped the sword hilt tightly, slung the little blue-flowered bundle onto my back, and hurried toward the Mountain Gate.

Time was running short.

In another quarter of an hour, Second Junior Sister would be up, lighting the wind furnace and clanging away at the forge, while Third Junior Brother would be shouldering his hoe to loosen the soil for the pines.

I’m not good at farewells; best not to meet face to face.

The Mountain Gate was in sight, and in the morning mist, two blurry figures appeared.

I stopped in my tracks.

Second Junior Sister sat atop the stone lion’s back, swinging her feet idly.

Her usual coarse, ash-stained hemp clothes from the forge had been replaced by a bewitching red gauze.

Red dress, black hair, golden bells tied to her ankles, a White Jade Pipa cradled in her arms.

Her phoenix-tail hair was as crimson as blood.

Third Junior Brother looked as he always did, in blue robes with a wooden hairpin, leaning against a stone pillar.

Only now, his slender, well-defined hands were wrapped with a fine silver chain, its end dangling a Bone Whistle as smooth and white as jade.

Who knows how long they’d been standing there, morning dew still clinging to their hair.

When they saw me, Third Junior Brother grumbled a single word: “Late.”

I lifted my chin. “Jiang Li is now protected by the Sword Sect, the greatest sect in the Nine Provinces.”

Second Junior Sister’s beautiful eyes glimmered, faintly revealing the allure of the Hehuan Sect enchantress she once was: “So what if it’s the Sword Sect? Back when I defected from my sect and was hunted by the Six Paths, I wasn’t afraid.”

Third Junior Brother was succinct: “Return quickly, water the flowers.”

The Sunset Glow Sect was poor.

So poor that the entire sect couldn’t muster a single flying artifact.

“When my sword was whole, I could fly from the south to the north of the Nine Provinces in a single day and night.”

“Back then, I never had to worry about travel. Carriages and phoenix chariots-others would scramble to arrange them for me.”

Second Junior Sister and I both wore bitter expressions, turning to our last hope.

Third Junior Brother expressionlessly measured the length of the Bone Whistle.

Well, it wasn’t even as long as my pinky.

Forget about feet, you couldn’t even fit a hand on it.

Fortunately, our luck wasn’t completely rotten.

A few days later, a Penglai Sect disciple riding a Green-eyed Suanni Beast passed overhead, stepping on clouds-only to be struck down midair by Second Junior Sister with her White Jade Pipa.

He, too, was heading to the Sword Sect.

But not to challenge the mountain; he was going to attend the Dual Cultivation Ceremony of Xie Changgeng and Jiang Li.

Jiang Li’s fortune was extraordinary. She gained the recognition of the Returning Snow Sword, one of the Five Divine Swords in the Sword Pool, and now her future was limitless as the Returning Snow Sword Master.

Flowing Wind and Returning Snow were originally a pair of swords, male and female.

Two hundred years ago, Xie Changgeng drew the Flowing Wind Sword from the Sword Pool, becoming the Flowing Wind Sword Master.

Now that the Returning Snow Sword had appeared, it was only natural for the two Sword Masters to become Dao partners.

Moreover, Jiang Li had long been enamored with Xie Changgeng.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have stolen the Two Paths Flower that Master used to save lives, just to save him.

Footnote:
1. Pipa(琵琶): The pipa is a traditional plucked string instrument originating from China, with a history of over two thousand years. It typically has four strings and is played using a plectrum or fingers, capable of producing a rich and varied range of tones and melodies.