Even Though I Am Blind, I Am Invincible

That evening, Xiao Heng and his father sat in silence, the untouched tea between them growing cold.

"You must compete," his father finally said. "But once you step onto that stage—surrender. If you were as before, I would ask you to fight. But now… you are blind."

Xiao Heng's expression remained unreadable. "I understand."

A pouch landed on the table with a dull thud.

"Take this. Buy yourself a sword."

(In the weapons market)

The weapons market buzzed with voices, but as Xiao Heng walked through, whispers followed him like shadows.

"A blind man? What's he looking for—a walking stick?"

A scoff. "Wasting space. He should just leave."

The shopkeeper didn't bother hiding his disdain. "Get lost."

"Wait."

A firm voice cut through the mockery. A young man stepped forward, his tone steady. "Blind or not, he deserves respect."

Xiao Heng inclined his head. "Thank you."

"What are you looking for?"

"A sword."

The shopkeeper sneered. "With what? A few coppers?"

Xiao Heng's voice remained calm. "My budget is ten thousand spirit stones."

Silence. Then laughter.

"A beggar pretending to be rich!"

Ignoring them, Xiao Heng let his fingers brush across the displayed blades. Cold steel, polished edges—none felt right. Then, at the bottom of an old chest, his hand met something different.

A forgotten sword.

A pulse echoed in his mind.

"After all these years… someone has finally found me."

Xiao Heng stilled.

Beside him, the young man frowned. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine."

Again, his fingers traced the worn hilt.

"Who are you?"

A deep chuckle rumbled in his thoughts.

"A blind man, yet so perceptive. I am Gu Fu, the sword spirit."

"A sentient blade?"

"Indeed. And you… your soul is unlike any I've encountered."

Xiao Heng smirked. "Blind I may be, but unrivaled."

The sword spirit hesitated. Then—shock.

"You… You are an Immortal Emperor?!"

"Correct. I am Xiao Heng."

The sword trembled in his grasp.

"Sword Spirit Gu Fu greets the Immortal Emperor!"

Xiao Heng wasted no time. "Will you follow me?"

"With honor."

Lifting the rusted blade, Xiao Heng turned to the shopkeeper. "This one."

The young man beside him hesitated. "You're sure? It's broken."

"I am sure."

The shopkeeper smirked. "Eleven thousand copper."

Copper? Xiao Heng's brow twitched. A sword spirit—priced like scrap metal? But he paid without hesitation.

As he turned to leave, the young man called out. "What's your name?"

"Xiao Heng." He paused. "And yours?"

"Ye Yun."

Xiao Heng nodded. "I appreciate your help."