I Was Reincarnated As A Sword Spirit

With the sword in hand, Qing'er stood beneath the ancient oak tree, its golden leaves swaying gently in the wind. Sunlight dappled her delicate face as she ran her fingers along the sword's polished surface, marveling at its craftsmanship.

"This sword… feels different from the others," she murmured to herself.

Of course, it did.

Yao Yan watched her from within, his soul tethered to the blade. He could feel her touch, sense her emotions—a rare mix of joy and apprehension. This young girl had never held such a powerful weapon before.

Though she could not hear him, Yao Yan sighed.

"How ironic," he mused. "Once, I stood at the peak of cultivation, feared and revered by countless. Now, I am but a blade in the hands of a mere girl."

But there was something about Qing'er.

She was not a warrior hardened by battle, nor a scheming cultivator consumed by greed. Instead, she radiated a quiet determination, her innocent yet unwavering spirit shining through.

Perhaps… fate had brought them together for a reason.