Whispers of the Jade Saber

A New Province, A Rising Storm

The Cloudmist Basin stretched like an ocean of green and gray—a vast land of mist-veiled cliffs, glistening rice terraces, and rivers that wound like silver serpents through deep canyons. But beneath its beauty lay fractured loyalties, scattered sects, and wandering cultivators all dancing between righteousness and survival.

Lin Feng stood at the edge of the basin with Liang Yue, his cloak fluttering in the breeze. The journey from the Crimson Mirage Woods had been long, but the Ashen Scroll—now sealed in his inner robe—radiated warmth like a heartbeat. Every step forward now carried more weight.

"This place feels… louder," Lin Feng murmured. "Like too many voices are whispering at once."

Liang Yue nodded. "Cultivators here don't trust easily. The basin is a melting pot of swordsmen without masters, merchants trafficking relics, and bounty hunters sniffing coin."

"And spies."

Her gaze sharpened. "Especially spies."

They had barely entered the eastern market town of Tianji Hollow before Lin Feng noticed it: the glances, the hushed tones, the way conversations died when he walked past.

A poster hung from every pole:

> "Wanted: Lin Feng – Wielder of the Jade Saber."

Reward: 45,000 gold taels. Alive preferred. Dead accepted.

Next to his was a sketch of Liang Yue.

Their presence was no longer rumor—it was legend.

---

A Town Wrapped in Tension

They checked into a quiet inn along the river, calling themselves "Brother Mu" and "Lady Lian." The innkeeper—a stout old woman missing two fingers—barely looked up as she gave them the key.

The room was small but quiet, with faded paper walls and a view of the mist-draped waterfall beyond the terrace.

Lin Feng removed the Ashen Scroll from inside his robes and laid it carefully on the floor.

Liang Yue crouched beside him. "We can't use this here. Not with prying eyes everywhere."

"I know. But there's something else…"

He unrolled the bottom edge—beneath the final technique, a second seal shimmered, hidden in faint ink.

A symbol neither had seen before: a broken jade crown impaled by a sword.

Liang Yue inhaled sharply. "That's not part of the Hidden Lineage. That… belongs to the Heaven's Mirror Sect."

Lin Feng frowned. "I thought they were wiped out."

"They were. Over a hundred years ago. Betrayed from within. The legend says a rogue disciple forged a style based not on clarity, but distortion—bending light, reflecting forms, becoming anyone."

"Why would their mark be here?"

"Because whoever forged this scroll—may have stolen part of their legacy."

---

The Mirror Blade Appears

That night, as a storm began to roll in from the cliffs, they made their way to the edge of the Market of Forgotten Steel—a black-market ring where rogue cultivators bartered relics, spirit beasts, and forbidden techniques.

Lin Feng wore a straw hat low over his eyes. Liang Yue stayed close, her blades hidden beneath a long travel cloak.

They browsed silently until a ripple of qi made Lin Feng freeze.

Across the square, a figure emerged from the fog.

He was tall, cloaked in white and silver, with a mirror-polished mask that reflected everything—but showed nothing.

The crowd parted without command.

Liang Yue's hand went to her weapon. "That's him. The Mirror Blade."

The masked figure raised a single hand—and pointed it straight at Lin Feng.

"You carry what was never meant to leave the Ash Sect," he said, voice like water over glass. "Return the scroll. Or be shattered by your own reflection."

The crowd went still.

Lin Feng stepped forward, slowly drawing the jade saber. "If you want it, come and take it."

---

Clash Beneath the Lanterns

The Mirror Blade moved without drawing a weapon.

Instead—he stepped, and from the step, a thousand reflections of himself scattered outward, each one attacking from a different direction.

Lin Feng spun, blocking left and right, but each strike passed through air.

"Where's the real one?!"

Liang Yue joined the fray, slicing through illusions—but they reformed instantly, mirrors bending light and qi.

Then Lin Feng remembered the scroll.

"To pierce falsehood, one must burn brighter than its shadow."

He channeled fire qi—not into his blade, but into his eyes.

Flame circled his irises.

And there—he saw it. A flicker. A reflection that didn't blink.

He struck.

The real Mirror Blade hissed and reeled back, sparks flying from his shoulder.

The crowd gasped.

The real one bled.

The Storm Breaks

Rain began to fall, pattering like drums on the rooftops.

The Mirror Blade raised his hand, forming a barrier of shimmering light.

"You may see now," he said, voice distorted, "but your truth is still too shallow."

He vanished into the downpour.

Lin Feng stood panting, the jade saber humming in his grip.

Around him, the crowd erupted into whispers.

"Did he just wound the Mirror Blade?"

"That boy… is real."

Liang Yue grabbed his arm. "We have to go. Now."

An Ally in the Shadows

Back at the inn, a letter was waiting for them --sealed with red wax bearing a fox insignia.

Liang Yue opened it, frowning.

"If you seek safety, come to the Temple of Withered Echoes by the third night from now.

There are things you must know—about your family, the Ashen Scroll… and the traitor who destroyed the Hidden Lineage."

No name.

Just a symbol.

A fox. Not seven-tailed… but nine.

Liang Yue whispered, "That's the mark of the Foxblood Archivists."

Lin Feng looked at her. "Who are they?"

"Spies. Historians. Secrets wrapped in flesh. If they know about your family—this could change everything."

He looked out the window, rain streaming down like fate itself.

"Then we're going."

End of Chapter 10