Nightwatcher-Chapter 416: To Bestow a Name

# 416. To Bestow a Name

The lotus seed embedded itself into the blade, adhering to it as if fused together—this way, the jade box was no longer necessary... Xu Qi’an chuckled. *I really am a clever one.*

Time passed, second by second. Xu Qi’an sat at the table, staring intently. He had to prevent the lotus seed from falling onto the surface—if it ended up imbuing the table with a spirit, that would be quite the joke.

No more need for a horse in the future. He could just ride the table, watching as its four legs nimbly traversed mountains and valleys.

Resting his elbow on the table, cupping his chin, he gazed blankly ahead. The effect of the lotus seed set his mind adrift, leading to amusing thoughts.

If he imbued his right hand with the seed’s essence, his hand would say, _You still need me to posture_ His undergarments would protest, _Where are you putting me?_

A cigarette would interrupt, _Both of you, shut up. Hold me in your mouth._

The scabbard would sneer, _Try inserting yourself one more time, I dare you._

At that thought, Xu Qi’an burst into laughter.

*Sigh, I can only entertain myself. No one to share this with...*

His laughter gradually faded. Propping his chin with one hand, he idly tapped the table with the other, feeling as if he had stepped into a poetic moment—_A rendezvous missed past midnight, I while away time, tapping chess pieces under the lamplight._

A round moon hung high, its cold radiance blocked by gauze windows. The sharp cries of insects rang intermittently, accentuating the night’s stillness.

On a wooden stand by the window sat a beast-shaped incense burner, releasing mosquito-repelling fumes. The mountains were rife with insects—without incense at night, sleep would be impossible.

Of course, martial artists of sixth rank and above paid no heed to mosquito bites.

Unconsciously, six hours passed. The moon disappeared, and the sky outside turned a deep azure.

During this time, Xu Qi’an watched the lotus seed wither bit by bit while the black-gold sabre underwent its transformation. It did not grow sharper, but it no longer felt lifeless. It seemed to have awakened.

The once-plump lotus seed had completely shriveled and fell to the ground.

_Buzz!_

The black-gold sabre trembled and soared into the air, circling around Xu Qi’an.

It seemed to be fond of him, like a young pup seeking comfort from its parent.

_What a strange feeling. It’s still a sabre, yet it feels alive—like a child, or a pet..._ Xu Qi’an’s lips curled into a smile.

Watching the sabre dart and dance through the room, he suddenly recalled the husky he had raised in his previous life. It had been just as rambunctious, constantly butting him with its head when excited.

The moment this thought surfaced, he saw the black-gold sabre execute an elegant arc, its tip aimed directly at him before shooting forward.

_No, no, no! I’ll die from this…_ Xu Qi’an’s face changed dramatically.

_Ding!_

With no time to dodge, he activated his Vajra Body. His chest took the hit with a sharp _ding_—like being stabbed by a needle, it stung intensely.

_The sabre’s strength has increased! I tested cutting myself before, and it didn’t hurt at all back then…_ With a dark expression, Xu Qi’an turned around and silently endured the affectionate “nudging” of his sabre.

_Ding! Ding! Ding!_

Like an overexcited husky, the black-gold sabre kept ramming into Xu Qi’an’s back, expressing its closeness.

_If I hadn’t mastered the Vajra Body, I’d probably be the first person to be “loved to death” by his own weapon. Good thing I have this protective art… Well, I suppose this is part of my fortune too._

After a long while, the black-gold sabre finally calmed down and settled lightly onto the table.

Xu Qi’an grabbed its hilt, holding it horizontally before him. He gazed at the blade and murmured, "Now, it’s time to name you."

According to Zhong Li, naming was a crucial step in binding a sentient divine weapon. Once a peerless blade received a name, it would never change.

Whoever named it became its true master.

The Sovereign Sword was so named because the founding emperor bestowed that title upon it.

Thus, its very existence was tied to safeguarding the nation’s fate. That was why Xu Qi’an was able to wield it.

Naming a divine weapon carried more significance than one could imagine—it defined its very purpose.

For its master, this was also a moment of introspection, a declaration of ambition.

_What name should I choose…?_ Xu Qi’an pondered for a long time. Suddenly, an inexplicable surge of passion rose within him, as if he were resonating with the heavens and earth.

A strange premonition struck him—he was standing at a pivotal moment in his life.

The room felt too small. The ceiling was too low. It could not contain his boundless aspirations.

_Bang!_

He pushed open the door, left the courtyard, and walked toward a cliff’s edge.

The sky remained deep and azure, mountain winds howling. His long hair and robes billowed, making him feel as if he could soar at any moment.

"I am but a traveler in this world. I do not revere gods, do not worship Buddhas, and do not bow to kings or the heavens.

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"I have but one wish—that there be fewer injustices in this world, that common folk may live as humans should, not as livestock. That the massacre of Chuzhou never happens again…

"I shall name you _Taiping_—‘Peace’! With me, you shall cut down all injustice and carve out peace for the people, peace for generations to come!"

He raised the sabre high, feeling his mind as clear as crystal, his spirit unwavering.

_Crack!_

The jade pendant given by the Jianzheng, the one that concealed his fortune, cracked.

At that moment, the Taiping sabre responded, unleashing a blade intent that shot skyward, piercing the clouds above the summit of Quanrong Mountain.

A great phenomenon erupted—violent winds howled, dispersing the perpetual mist that shrouded the mountain. Leaves and branches swirled through the air, and the forests trembled. From afar, it seemed as though the entire mountain was shaking.

The commotion alarmed the Wulin Alliance experts residing on Quanrong Mountain, including the sect leaders Yang Cuixue and Xiao Yuenu.

"What’s happening?"

"An enemy attack? Is it an enemy attack? Wake everyone up!"

"Such terrifying phenomena… Who could it be? A third rank expert?!"

"Could it be the Daoist Leader of the Earth Sect seeking revenge?"

Martial artists rushed out of their rooms, some not even bothering to light candles.

_Dong! Dong! Dong!_

Deep and rapid bell tolls echoed through the night, ringing across every corner of Quanrong Mountain.

This was the highest level of alert, signaling all forces to prepare for an enemy assault.

The experts of the Wulin Alliance emerged into open spaces, witnessing the shocking spectacle firsthand. The heavens and earth seemed to be consumed by the storm—air currents spiraled upward, lifting stones, leaves, and branches into the sky.

Such a phenomenon was far beyond mortal limits.

Xiao Yuenu draped a pink robe over her lithe frame, concealing her alluring curves. She wore a simple white undergarment underneath—there had been no time to don an elaborate gown.

She had abandoned ornaments, tying her azure hair back with a yellow silk ribbon.

She leapt onto the roof, scanning the surroundings. She quickly spotted familiar figures—Yang Cuixue among them.

"What’s going on?" Her voice was cool as she tightened her grip on her silver bone folding fan.

"Either the great ancestor has broken through, or we’re under attack," Fu Jingmen replied solemnly. "I just got here myself."

The gathered sect leaders and masters bore grave expressions, bracing for battle.

"Is it the Daoist Leader of the Earth Sect?" Xiao Yuenu’s brows arched slightly as she made a sharp deduction.

She instinctively tightened her hold on her fan.

Fu Jingmen and the others' expressions darkened simultaneously. If the Earth Sect was attacking, it was undoubtedly for the Yue Clan Manor. But upon discovering it was empty, they might vent their frustration by retaliating against the Wulin Alliance.

Though the Wulin Alliance was a behemoth in the martial world, it still paled in comparison to the Three Daoist Sects—unless their great ancestor personally intervened.

Even then, a battle between peak experts would still be a catastrophe for Quanrong Mountain.

At that moment, Yang Cuixue spoke. "Alliance Leader!"

Following his gaze, they saw a figure in purple leaping from the main courtyard, traversing the rooftops before landing before them.

"Has the old alliance leader broken through?"

"Is this an enemy attack, Alliance Leader Cao?"

Sect leaders and clan heads hurriedly inquired.

Cao Qingyang’s face was grave as he responded in a deep voice, "It’s not the great ancestor..."

The crowd exchanged glances, abandoning all illusions.

Without another word, Cao Qingyang quickly identified the source of the storm and was the first to soar into the wind.

Yang Cuixue and the others followed.

Soon, they left the complex, circling around the main peak to a steep cliff.

There, standing alone atop the precipice, was a tall young man, gripping a long sabre. The blade’s aura pierced the heavens, radiating an overwhelming majesty akin to divine wrath, with streams of energy coiling around it.

"Silver Gong Xu?!"

Exclamations rang out as the members of the Wulin Alliance stared in bewilderment and shock.

Such a grand commotion—was this all caused by Silver Gong Xu?

*His... his sabre...* Cao Qingyang’s eyes fixated on the dark-gold blade, unwavering.

_Gulp..._

Someone swallowed hard, their gaze filled with unabashed desire, eyes gleaming with envy.

Anyone could see it—this was a peerless divine weapon. And in the martial world, nothing was more irresistible than such a weapon.

More and more people gathered, witnessing the youth standing proudly at the peak, brandishing a blade that tore through the clouds.

"It’s not an enemy attack?"

"What... what is Silver Gong Xu doing?"

The crowd buzzed with speculation, but none could provide an answer.

Yet from this day onward, a new legend would spread across the jianghu: _In the midsummer of Yuanjing 37, Xu Qi’an attained enlightenment atop Quanrong Mountain, triggering celestial phenomena._

Eventually, the blade’s aura receded, the violent winds calmed. At that precise moment, the first rays of dawn broke through from the east, illuminating Xu Qi’an’s handsome profile.

Right then, who knew how many women’s hearts fluttered.

Xu Qi’an sheathed his sabre and exhaled softly. It was as if he had suddenly grasped his purpose, and his entire being felt at ease.

His gaze swept over Cao Qingyang, Yang Cuixue, and the gathered members of the Wulin Alliance. With a clear voice, he declared, "I had a small epiphany, I do apologise for the disturbance..."

Before he could finish, an urgent voice echoed from the rear mountains.

"You, come! Come!"

Xu Qi’an and Cao Qingyang exchanged a glance. They both recognised the voice—it was the old alliance leader of the Wulin Alliance.

The rest had also heard it.

"What was that? Who spoke?" Fu Jingmen looked around warily, shouting.

"Master Fu, mind your manners," Cao Qingyang reprimanded. "That was the great ancestor."

At these words, the Wulin Alliance members erupted in commotion, their discussions filled with excitement.

"The great ancestor? That was the great ancestor’s voice?"

"My father told me since childhood that the rear mountain is where the great ancestor resides, but I’ve never heard him speak in my entire life."

"The great ancestor has watched over the Wulin Alliance for generations!"

The Wulin Alliance had long claimed that its founding ancestor still lived, but no one in the martial world had ever seen this figure, said to be as old as the nation itself. Even within the alliance, the rear mountain had always been declared off-limits, a sacred retreat for the great ancestor.

Generations passed down this belief, yet none had ever met the master—nor even heard his voice.

"The great ancestor is calling for the alliance leader. Alliance Leader Cao, you must go, don’t keep the great ancestor waiting!"

Seeing Cao Qingyang standing still, the crowd urged him anxiously.

"Alliance Leader Cao? The great ancestor is calling you."

"Hurry, Alliance Leader!"

The two words—"You, come"—left no room for doubt. The great ancestor must have been summoning the alliance leader. On Quanrong Mountain, in the Wulin Alliance, only Cao Qingyang had the right to meet the master.

Yet Cao Qingyang remained motionless. Instead, he nodded toward Xu Qi’an.

Without hesitation, Xu Qi’an strode toward the rear mountain. Compared to before, his fears of exposing the secrets of fortune had suddenly faded. At this moment, his heart was vast as the sky, his spirit open and unburdened.

Countless eyes, dazed and incredulous, followed his departing figure.

*The great ancestor... hadn’t called for Alliance Leader Cao?*

*After centuries of silence, the first words spoken by the great ancestor were directed at Silver Gong Xu?*

…

Before a stone gate, Xu Qi’an held his sabre and spoke respectfully.

"Senior, what do you wish of me?"

"Who are you? Why do you possess fortune?"

The aged voice was direct and straightforward—no embellishments, no hesitation. The bluntness of a martial artist.

Just like their conversation the previous night, when he had spoken of the secrets of fortune and the truths of history, he had laid everything bare, never bothering with cryptic hints.

_I do prefer dealing with martial artists. The Jianzheng, Daoist Jinlian, and Wei Yuan are all far too scheming—I feel ashamed to be in their company..._ Xu Qi’an mused before replying.

"I am but an ordinary citizen of the Great Feng. However, I do indeed possess fortune—or rather, the nation’s fortune."

Silence came from within the stone gate, as if waiting for him to continue.

"Twenty years ago, during the Battle of Shanhai Pass, a mysterious arcanist, in collusion with the shaman clans' Heaven Gu Chief, stole half of the Great Feng’s fortune. That fortune ultimately fell upon me.

"But I don’t know why I was chosen..."

Xu Qi’an briefly recounted the story of fortune and his own experiences.

It was odd—before Wei Yuan and Daoist Jinlian, he had never once mentioned his fortune, even though Daoist Jinlian had some knowledge of it.

Yet before this old warrior, he felt no need to hide anything.

The reasons, he surmised, were twofold.

First, the man before him was a straightforward martial artist, always direct. Unlike Daoist Jinlian and Wei Yuan, whose minds were full of schemes, dealing with them required constant caution.

Second, this warrior had lived as long as the nation itself and had seen the tides of history firsthand. After witnessing the phenomena just now, there was no way to hide the truth. His urgent summons meant he had already seen through something.

So Xu Qi’an decided to be forthright.

"No wonder the Great Feng’s decline has been so rapid over the past twenty years," the elder mused. "The emperor’s Daoist cultivation played a part, but the loss of fortune was another major cause."

Then, in a sharper tone, he asked, "What happened just now?"

Xu Qi’an explained how he had used the lotus seed to imbue his sabre, elevating it to a peerless divine weapon.

"And the sabre’s name?"

"*Taiping*, signifying a world at peace."

The old man chuckled, his voice carrying a tone of understanding. “A Third rank Confucian scholar is called ‘Mandate Seeker’. When they advance, celestial phenomena naturally manifest because great Confucian scholars bear the fortune of humanity.

“Although you do not follow the Confucian system, the essence is the same. That’s why such a phenomenon occurred. Here’s a piece of advice—remember the conviction you held today. If you ever fall into the demonic path, you will die from the backlash of your own fortune.”

“I understand.” Xu Qi’an nodded, then asked respectfully, “Senior, what do you make of my situation?”

“Your situation? Hmph, don’t join the Wulin Alliance. I don’t want you,” the old brute said.

_Pah, crude martial artist…_ Xu Qi’an sneered internally. _Flipping sides this fast? The moment you realised I’m a chess piece of both the Jianzheng and that mysterious arcanist, you immediately chickened out._

“Of course,” the old man added, “if I could ascend to Rank Two, the Wulin Alliance would be able to protect you. Heh, a Rank Two martial artist might not be able to defeat a Rank One expert from other systems, but we wouldn’t fear them either.”

The old man inside the stone gate laughed. “You don’t need to be wary of me. I am determined to reach the peak of the martial path, so I will never meddle with fortune. Otherwise, five hundred years ago, I would have clashed with your founding ancestor of the Great Feng to the death. And now? I have no intention of rebelling—fortune is useless to me.”

“But if a great fortune followed you, perhaps, Senior, you could turn misfortune into blessing and advance to Rank Two?” Xu Qi’an probed.

The old man fell silent.

Just as Xu Qi’an cursed himself for his own stupidity—bringing up a topic that could be detrimental to himself—the old man suddenly said in a low voice:

“What gave you the illusion that a martial artist could manipulate fortune?”

…

Xu Qi’an bowed deeply. “This Junior spoke too rashly.”

_Right… even if this old ancestor is tempted by my fortune, how could a crude martial artist possibly comprehend the method to extract it?_

_In the end, it’s like a virgin staring at a Picasso painting—desperate but utterly clueless._

After a moment of silence, Xu Qi’an, still unwilling to give up, asked, “Does Senior have any further guidance for me?”