The Marrow-Cleansing Pool
The weapon spirit was stunned. It had seen many things in the long years trapped inside the sword, but a two-year-old who spoke with manners and clear logic was something else entirely.
“Sh‑she…she’s really your daughter?” the spirit stammered, every syllable betraying its surprise.
Feng Yuxin nodded. “Yes. I carried her for ten months and gave birth to her. There’s no doubt — she’s mine. So can she bond with a divine weapon or not?”
The sword spirit scrutinized the little girl. “In terms of raw strength, she’s weak—obviously. But by age? She’s surprisingly advanced.”
Ling’er’s soft voice piped up, full of hopeful expectancy. “So…can I try?”
The weapon spirit had been alone in its confinement for countless years. Loneliness had softened it, and seeing Ling’er’s clear, trusting eyes made its tone gentler than usual. “A divine weapon bonds based on Spirit Power. Spirit Power determines a person’s aptitude ceiling.”
“How do you know what your ceiling is?” Ling’er asked.
“You can try,” the spirit replied patiently. “Most of the divine implements here are benevolent. If you can’t qualify, they won’t hurt you. Divine artifacts grow with their owners. If you bond to one, it will protect you while you’re still small — artifacts are always far stronger than their masters in the beginning.”
Feng Yuxin’s heart gave a small leap. Of course she wanted her daughter close; that was why Ling’er had always traveled with her. But if the child could successfully bind to an artifact…that would be like having a powerful guardian at her side.
“Mother, can I go try?” Ling’er looked up at Feng Yuxin with pleading eyes.
“All right.” Feng Yuxin ruffled her daughter’s hair and slipped Ling’er back into the space.
The sword — the Zhuxie Sword — fixed its gaze on Feng Yuxin as it spoke aloud, each word deliberate. “Your Spirit Power is vast. Would you be willing to become my next master?”
More than words, the sword sensed something calm and upright in her soul; she radiated an honesty that resonated with its own nature. A blade called Zhuxie demanded more than strength from its wielder — it demanded a soul that matched its purpose. Such masters were rare, and the sword had been waiting a long time. Whoever successfully bonded with it would gain a tremendous boost in power. The legacies of its previous master would pass on as well.
Feng Yuxin didn’t hesitate. She wasn’t foolish; she knew what a weapon of that caliber could mean — strength to cross tiers in battle. If she could already surpass a step on her own, a bonded divine sword might let her push through two tiers.
“Enter the pool below,” the weapon spirit instructed, guiding her through the process.
Feng Yuxin glanced at Xiaoying and Hunbing. “Stay and guard. Do not let anyone disturb us.”
“Don’t worry, Master. Not a single living thing will be allowed in,” Xiaoying and Hunbing promised.
Feng Yuxin settled into the marrow-cleansing pool. The Zhuxie Sword flared, sending surges of power into the waters. Xiaoying and Hunbing watched as their master began to absorb the pool’s essence at an astonishing rate — including the strength the sword had poured in. The pool, once brimming, visibly receded.
A vast force poured into Feng Yuxin’s body, and in the next instant, her cultivation leapt.
Wanxiang Realm — Stage Eight.
“Master leveled up!” Hunbing cried in excitement.
“Before she was at Wanxiang Stage Seven,” Xiaoying said, equally thrilled. “We thought after those successive rises she’d need time, but fate handed her a chance — a divine artifact to help her grow.”
Hunbing’s eyes were bright with wonder. “I wonder how many stages she’ll climb.”
“A divine weapon isn’t like ordinary spiritual tools. It’ll push her up a substantial rank,” Xiaoying replied.
Feng Yuxin felt the influx of spirit energy like a balm and a furnace together. Still, a nagging worry tugged at her — she’d grown so quickly already; could her body take another jump so soon?
The Zhuxie Sword answered before she spoke. “I am reinforcing your body with my power, tempering your constitution to its optimal state. You ascended too rapidly before; your body couldn’t keep pace. But you were fortunate to encounter this pool and me.”
Relief eased through Feng Yuxin. If the process wouldn’t injure her, she welcomed further advancement.
“When you learn artifact-forging, your body will be tempered as well,” the sword continued. “You wanted to come to the Divine Sword Sect to study forging. You lack experience, but your Spirit Power will make learning easy. It won’t hinder your cultivation or alchemy.”
The sword had already sensed Feng Yuxin’s aptitude for alchemy through their link; she’d been a talented pill-smith. Now, with the sword’s guidance, her aptitude for forging would likely blossom as well. Luck after luck seemed to follow her.
The sword, for its part, favored a powerful master — their strengths fed each other. The surge peaked with a thunderous crescendo.
Feng Yuxin’s aura burst outward; her cultivation shot to Wanxiang Realm — Stage Nine. Within heartbeats she crossed the pinnacle of that realm.
Moments later, she broke through entirely — into the first stage of the Tianling Realm.
No obstacles, no ritual rooms heavy with condensed spirit energy, no stacks of refinement pills required. Feng Yuxin rose easily, as if the path had been quietly cleared for her. Xiaoying and Hunbing were speechless. For them, nothing their master did was ordinary anymore.
Time ticked away. The pool’s reserves dwindled while Feng Yuxin’s power climbed steadily. From Tianling Stage One she pressed on to Stage Five.
“I’ve stored the remaining spirit energy for you,” the Zhuxie Sword said finally. “Don’t rush. Let your current foundation stabilize first. When you want to rise again, release the energy I’ve stored and you can refine another step.”
Feng Yuxin’s heart skipped. “Spirit energy can be stored?” she murmured, astonished.