C200 Treasured Sword Spirit Cloud

Two more years slipped by, and Hsu Mu's eyes fluttered open once again, his expression betraying neither joy nor sorrow.

With a mere flick of his finger, a white flying sword zipped out from the refining furnace, settling into Hsu Mu's palm. The sword brimmed with spirit, lying in his hand like a living creature, its light twinkling intermittently as if in silent conversation with Hsu Mu