The sect leader had nothing to do with the current Xu Jian.

It was a shame the boy he failed to rear had been smothered and replaced with a stranger, and it was a shame he had to finally accept the righteous fury the original goods had inspired, but in that moment, seeing the man crumpled on the floor, Xu Jian felt only apathy and mild disgust.

“What do I do?” The sect leader whispered with a desperate voice.

'The dead have no answers for you.'

The saber that the sect leader sat in front of belonged to the original Xu Jian's dead father. It was all that was left of the man. While the sect leader was neglectful of his sect, when he actually cared about someone, he was genuine about it. Unfortunately, Xu Jian didn't remember him caring about anyone except his sworn brother and his sworn brother's son.

They had met as youths, during a tournament. Wendian was always mediocre, but back then, it was a sham of a martial school that only knew how to meditate and swing their swords a little, formed as an association to protect the villages on the river from pittances that the Four Righteous Sects couldn't be bothered with. The sect leader at the time had used the tournament as an opportunity to bow down on his hands and knees to lords of prestigious cultivations sects from across the lands, asking for cultivation techniques. He failed to convince anyone. The current sect leader was a child then, about eleven years old at most.

Xu Jian's father, a rogue cultivator, had intruded on the whole affair, and while causing trouble for everyone, had crossed paths with the sect leader. He was a clever but secretive child who refused to say a word about his past, and made a strange sight, with hair like white jade. He had a mischievous streak that got him in trouble often. The current sect leader helped him evade some angry lords, and in return, Xu Jian's father had taught him a few things.

Thanks to these lessons, he had brought the Wendian sect from a pathetic, tiny under-learned martial school to a place where one could actually learn how to cultivate their spiritual energy. He was the first person to break through a level of cultivation since WenDian's inception.

They would meet every year at the tournament, where Xu Jian's father continued causing trouble for everyone, and continued spending all his time training and having fun with the sect leader. Sometimes, they'd even bump into each other while out hunting for monsters. They were such good friends that his disciples knew to go get him when Xu Jian's father was passing by.

Xu Jian's father never took on disciples or imparted any of his skills to anyone else, despite how often he gave the sect leader advice. So it was a surprise when he once came to a tournament with a woman. Just as he refused to explain anything about his past, he refused to explain his relationship with her or her reasons for being at his side.

Over the years, the woman had a white-haired child, and the woman vanished while the child remained. He began visiting the Wendian sect more when the sect leader took charge, and it seemed like he was living well. He even returned once with Baixiang, a sword that could only be drawn by his literal toddler. He had high expectations.

Then, they were called to clear out some sort of spider creature, and Xu Jian's father, who had no AOE attacks to handle a flood of tiny spiders, died a horrible death. The sect leader used talismans he had bought to burn his way to the body, and unable to do anything, burn his way out, without being able to bring his friend's corpse with him. The cave was sealed like a grave. Lai Mingliao had later broken into it and robbed all the corpses inside, which may have contributed to the sect leader losing his mind in rage later on, now that Xu Jian thought about it.

The orphaned 5-year-old Xu Jian was left, but he caused just as much trouble as his father, though with an added layer of cruelty. The sect leader, grieving for his sworn brother, could not bring himself to raise him properly, and instead reared him as if he was his Shifu, not his godfather. Later, he couldn't even stomach that much.

It was a moving story. Minor characters being a part of tragedies decades in the making always went over well with readers, and one that explained Xu Jian's upbringing without giving the man himself a tragic backstory was a clever little narrative trick.

Of course, because they were minor characters, the current Xu Jian had forgotten both their names.

It seemed the sudden changes to Xu Jian's personality had re-opened some old wounds, and now that he was being targeted as a criminal, the sect leader couldn't handle it anymore. He really was emotionally delicate.

No matter how long Xu Jian waited, the sect leader showed no sign of seeing or sensing him. He seemed unusually occupied with his grief. Instead, the sect leader reached a hand out and stroked the saber. It, like Baixiang, could only be drawn by its owner, and also had a gold blade. Xu Jian supposed it was sweet the man got a matching sword for his kid.

“Your son shined so brightly, you know. He was just like you. I let him forge his own path, like you did...I thought he was...that he inherited something from you. But I was blind to how different he was. I let him bring himself to this state. Forgive me…”

Xu Jian wanted to click his tongue. Go ahead and cry. Go ahead and gnash and wail. So he didn't live up to his father? Is that so? 'To this state', has something terrible happened? Is it worse to become obedient and humble than to be abusive and proud? It's not like this man was involved in Xu Jian's life, so why would it be devastating that he changed at all? Why not hide him away somewhere isolated where he could keep him safe, if it was so horrible that people wanted to vent their anger? Why not speak to him to actually understand what Xu Jian had become?

Ahh, but Xu Jian knew. The sect leader's love was selfish, and his pride was as delicate as his feelings. He wrung his hands and gave Xu Jian sad looks, but he would never let the boy he promised to take care of out of his sight. Even so, at the same time, he would never take any decisive actions if they would affect his tenuous hold on his sect.

And for those who were destroyed in the original Xu Jian's path...they weren't Xu Jian or his father, so they simply didn't matter.

Xu Jian was bored with him. He went back upstairs, no longer as cautious, and opened the sole door.

The bedroom was lavish, as expected. The bed looked plush, covered in expensive-looking blankets. There was a full study, and a table with a teapot.

And there, sitting above the headboard of the bed, was Baixiang.

He stood on the bed to fetch it. The cloth on his feet was still wet, but since this was the last item on his list, he didn't care about the clues he left behind.

The scabbard was gorgeous, pure white with cloud-like patterns lacing across it in gold embroidery. The guard was made of iron and white jade, also interlocking. A ring was carved in the centre. He ran his thumb over the ridges, and felt a hum of liveliness.

[ITEM ACQUIRED]

[TASK COMPLETE. REWARD IMPLEMENTED]

Things were going quite nicely.

He held the scabbard and the grip, and pulled.

It remained firmly in place.

Xu Jian felt, in his heart, a strange blankness.

He tugged harder. It didn't budge.

Aggravated now, Xu Jian let spiritual energy flow freely through his body until his hands burnt hot, and tried again.

It didn't move.

Xu Jian sank onto the bed and regarded the sword sadly. It really was beautiful. He was sure the blade was lovely.

Baixiang. A golden sword that could only be drawn by Xu Jian.

“You caught me,” he told the sword.

It did not react. The hum of energy within it was persistent and monotone, like the hum of a fridge.

Xu Jian put the sword back on display, straightened the bed out, and paused in the hall. Now that he listened for it, he thought he could hear the sect leader's soft crying for forgiveness.

‘Xu Jian’ had not been smothered.

He was dead.

The one wearing Xu Jian's face stepped into the window and dived smoothly into the unmoving surface of the river.

He swam into deep waters until he found new debris to hide under, and then drifted around the pier, committing it to memory for the last time.

In the past month, he didn't truly look at it, and he thought, maybe, that it was because it was a place he had no interest in observing. It was as if the entire town was cannon fodder, made to be overcome and forgotten, and it held that air so strongly he had forgotten it while he was living there.

The way the river mirrored the night sky really was beautiful.

He settled under a bridge, pulled the air down to him on his riverbed, and fell asleep.

Xu Jian awoke drowning.

The river was suddenly wild and hard to read, and his air was being torn from his mouth. He choked and kicked off the riverbed, desperate to reach the surface. His breathing was shallow underwater, and he didn't have enough air in his lungs to survive the trip.

The current pushed him through the channels, making it hard to go straight up, and keeping him trapped in the centre where he couldn't clutch onto the piers. He thrashed as his lungs burned, felt like they were bursting in his chest, until finally, he was tossed into water shallow enough for his head could break the surface.

The moment he took his first breath of air, a voice cried out across the entire town.

"DEMONS HAVE COME TO THE PIER!”