Volume One, Chapter 15: Visiting Whose Home?

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Zhang Yu clearly remembered that Jiang Huan’s spirit weapon was originally a broken sword, covered in rust and bloodstains. Yet after just a few days apart, how had it changed so much? Jiang Huan didn’t seem as useless as he had imagined.

Jiang Huan nodded and chuckled softly, continuing to spout nonsense casually. “Well, I sold the Pure Spirit Liquid the school gave me as a reward. Then, adding some savings, I bought materials to temper my spirit weapon. I guess I was just lucky—advanced it in one go.”

Advanced it in one go?

Hearing this, Zhang Yu couldn’t help but feel moved. His own spirit weapon had started at grade D, and after saving for many years in his youth, he had tempered it five times before finally upgrading it to grade C. Over the years, he had poured every penny earned into improving his spirit weapon’s quality, but after more than ten attempts, every single one had failed. Though his weapon’s quality had improved somewhat, it never advanced to grade B.

He steadied his emotions and asked again, “So your spirit weapon upgraded to grade E? That’s good—at least you could join some small mercenary groups here in Caiyun City.”

Zhang Yu habitually lit a cigarette and began to exhale smoke. “Teacher Zhang, it’s grade D.”

Jiang Huan didn’t intend to hide the truth, especially since in two months, the relevant information would be on his graduation certificate.

*Cough cough cough!*

Jiang Huan’s answer surprised Zhang Yu, who choked slightly on the smoke. “Say that again? What grade?”

“D grade.”

“How many times did you temper it?”

“Once.”

Zhang Yu fell silent.

At this moment, his heart was filled with envy and jealousy, recalling all the effort he had invested over the years to improve his spirit weapon. He wanted to ask heaven what he had done wrong to have such extraordinary luck.

Seeing Zhang Yu silent, Jiang Huan said no more. He only mentioned tempering once to avoid explaining too much. After all, tempering once suggested the family had some savings.

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But for someone from his background, multiple temperings would be unbelievable to most.

With nothing else to do, Jiang Huan picked up the katana the man in the suit had dropped and began to toy with it. A crisp system prompt sounded.

[Detected a severely weakened grade D spirit weapon “Ronin,” which will dissipate within two hours. Host, please choose: contract or smelt.]

Jiang Huan was puzzled. “Contract? Smelt?”

[Contract: When the spirit weapon’s compatibility falls below 60%, the system will forcibly bind the spirit weapon to the host, making it the host’s spirit weapon.]

[Smelt: Spirit weapons that cannot be contracted will be smelted into experience and used to replenish the host’s existing spirit weapon.]

Jiang Huan was momentarily stunned—he seemed to have discovered another way to rapidly strengthen himself.

Just as he pondered how to persuade Zhang Yu to let him keep the “Ronin” spirit weapon, a deep, resonant voice suddenly interrupted.

“Hey, what are you two doing there?”

A squad of five from the city patrol strode up to them.

“Hm? Old Zhang? What are you doing here?”

The leader patted Zhang Yu’s shoulder; they seemed familiar with each other.

Jiang Huan found the voice vaguely familiar but couldn’t recall where he’d heard it before.

The man’s gaze shifted to Jiang Huan. “Hey, you’re the kid who left the city that night, Jiang Huan, right?”

Jiang Huan finally remembered—the newcomer was none other than Zhang Jiuwan, the captain of the city guard that night.

Jiang Huan nodded and sighed inwardly; it seemed he would have to hand over the spirit weapon.

According to Daxia’s sanctuary city regulations, Daxia spirit masters may not keep items belonging to members of hostile organizations. All such items must be surrendered; violations are severely punished.

“Captain Zhang, didn’t expect to run into you here.”

The smell of blood gradually wafted about, and Zhang Jiuwan noticed the corpse of the suited man in the shadows. He frowned. “Old Zhang, what’s going on? Surely you know that killing someone in the sanctuary city is a serious crime?”

Zhang Yu shrugged. “Jiuwan, this guy is from the Amaterasu Society.”

Upon hearing this, Zhang Jiuwan said no more and moved closer to inspect the man’s features, signaling his subordinates behind him to search the body.

Before long, they found items confirming his identity.

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“Captain, this guy definitely belongs to the Amaterasu Society, but his spirit weapon…” One of the patrol members cast a meaningful glance at Jiang Huan.

Zhang Jiuwan’s sharp eyes naturally noticed the spirit weapon hidden behind Jiang Huan. Yet he only nodded, signaling the member not to say more. He turned and smiled at Zhang Yu. “Never thought you’d be so capable, Old Zhang, even breaking someone’s spirit weapon apart. Don’t worry, I’ll apply to the city lord’s office for a reward on your behalf.”

With that, he led his team away, dragging the suited man’s corpse.

Zhang Yu watched the patrol squad leave, his expression complicated as he glanced at Jiang Huan. “Kid, you and Zhang Jiuwan are pretty close?”

Jiang Huan looked puzzled. “We just met once when I left the city a few days ago.”

“That’s strange. Zhang Jiuwan is usually a sly one—didn’t expect him to help you.” After a pause, he asked, “Why did you leave the city?”

Jiang Huan smiled awkwardly. “Well, I’ve spent all my money tempering my spirit weapon, so I went hunting to make some extra cash to get by…”

Hearing this, Zhang Yu’s mood grew complex. This kid wasn’t as idle as he had assumed. A strange feeling of regret welled up within him.

He looked at the spirit weapon hidden behind Jiang Huan, and his stern face softened slightly. “Alright, stop hiding it. If you want that spirit weapon, it’s yours. But I have to warn you, whether you plan to use it or sell it, you need to nourish it quickly with this Spirit Nourishing Liquid. Otherwise, a low-level spirit weapon like this will dissipate without spiritual energy.”

As he spoke, he pulled a bottle of pale yellow liquid from his storage ring and tossed it to Jiang Huan.

Jiang Huan thanked Zhang Yu and promptly stored the “Ronin” spirit weapon and the nourishing liquid in his system space.

However, to Zhang Yu, it looked like Jiang Huan was placing these items into a white snake-bone ring on his hand.

He muttered, “Your storage ring has quite a unique design.”

Storage rings come in various styles, each workshop with its own aesthetic.

Jiang Huan chuckled but didn’t explain. Instead, he asked, “Teacher Zhang, what brings you to the Xishan Camp?”

“Home visit.”

“Home visit? Whose home?”

“Yours.”

Jiang Huan froze. “Teacher Zhang, are you joking? There’s nothing worth visiting at my place, and it’s getting late. You should go home.”

Jiang Huan’s family was among the poorest in the Third District. No matter how strong he appeared, he didn’t want his teachers or classmates to see his impoverished home.

Yet Zhang Yu ignored him, lit another cigarette, and said softly, “Lead the way.”