C11 Monarch Blood Sword

The ancient sword continued to emit yellow ripples. Tantrum was relieved that the windowless room Gu Qianqian had set up for him shielded their activities from prying eyes. Had there been a window, the commotion would have surely alerted half the antique market, not to mention Gu Qianqian and Elder Qi back at the shop, who would have sensed something amiss and come bursting through the door.

It took a full five minutes for the disturbance to subside. By then, the Ancient Bronze Sword had shed all its rust, gleaming as if it were a newly forged blade, sharp and bright. Even the marks of its masterful restoration had vanished without a trace.

The sword's yellow ripples receded, and Tantrum felt an even stronger connection to it, as if the sword were an extension of his own body. He whispered a command, "Collect!" In response, the Ancient Bronze Sword transformed into a streak of yellow light and shot into his body, vanishing from sight.

A rush of images flooded Tantrum's mind. He saw a valiant woman wielding a long sword, tears streaking her face as she thrust it at a towering man adorned in a robe with a golden five-clawed dragon. The blade nicked the man's neck, yet it was not a fatal blow. The woman had no chance for a second strike; a swarm of guards encircled the man for protection, and a skilled figure clad in black darted towards her, engaging in a fierce battle.

The woman's swordsmanship was exceptional, but the black-clad figure was formidable. With a surge of raw power, he shattered the long sword into four pieces with his bare hands before delivering a palm strike that crushed the woman's heart.

Clutching the remnants of her sword, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth, the woman cried out in anguish, "Yin Su, you will not die well! You've slaughtered my Lu Clan, and my only regret is not killing you myself. Even in death, I will not rest until I have my vengeance!" With those final words, she collapsed, lifeless.

The vision in Tantrum's mind faded away. He shook his head, feeling as though he had been swept back in time, experiencing the events firsthand. His perspective had been that of the sword, now broken into four segments.

The moment the Ancient Bronze Sword fused with Tantrum's body, he was transported through the sword's memories to the final moments of its previous owner's life, witnessing everything.

The Relic Arts' esteemed predecessors had already established that when a person dies, their obsessions or unfulfilled desires can leave traces of energy and information on their most cherished possessions. The more intense the deceased's mental strength and fixation, the more potent the residual energy. This energy manifests as runes on antiques.

The former mistress of the Ancient Bronze Sword was the woman who, failing in her attempt to assassinate her target, met her own demise. Her dying resentment and cries of defiance were etched into the sword's runes, which Tantrum had now acquired.

"Yinzhen? Could it be Aisin Gioro, Yinzhen?"

Tantrum pondered. Yinzhen was Emperor Yongzheng, the fifth ruler of the Qing Dynasty. Apocryphal tales suggest that Yongzheng met his end at the hands of an assassin named Lu Siniang.

The tale begins with Lu Siniang's grandfather, Lu Liuliang, a man with a profound sense of Han identity, who became a monk and retreated to Hunan in protest against Qing rule, drawing together like-minded individuals to discuss state affairs.

After Lu Liuliang passed away, Yongzheng, sensing the undercurrent of discontent among Han scholars, desecrated Lu Liuliang's grave and mutilated his corpse as a brutal warning to those who opposed Manchu governance. His descendants were either executed or exiled, a stark message to quash any dreams of Han resistance and to solidify Manchu dominance.

Yet, Lu Liuliang's lineage persisted through Lu Siniang, who evaded capture. She honed her martial skills daily, mastering a formidable swordsmanship. Ultimately, she infiltrated the palace, assassinated Yongzheng, and severed his head, leaving his body headless. Emperor Qianlong, left with no other recourse, commissioned a golden head to be placed in Yongzheng's coffin.

Tantrum was familiar with this story but recognized it as folklore, a fabricated account, as historical records indicate that Yongzheng died of natural causes.

Tantrum had always dismissed Lu Siniang as a fictional character, yet the vision he had just experienced seemed to confirm that Lu Siniang was no mere invention—she truly had attempted to assassinate Yongzheng.

The very sword that was used to assassinate Emperor Yongzheng now lay in Tantrum's grasp, transformed into his inaugural Relic.

"It's no surprise that Grandpa always said the deeper you connect with a Relic, the more insights you gain," Tantrum mused. "He clings to the Dragon Gallbladder Bright Silver Spear daily, hoping to master the spear techniques of Zhao Yun and Zhao Zilong. If I were to fully attune myself to the Ancient Bronze Sword, could I perhaps inherit Lu Siniang's swordsmanship?"

The integration of the Ancient Bronze Sword as a Relic was merely the initial step. Tantrum knew he had to further deepen his bond with the sword to tap into its burgeoning power.

Regrettably, as a novice, a mere level 1 Relic Arts Master, Tantrum's spiritual energy reserves were insufficient to wield the Ancient Bronze Sword effectively. Any attempt to do so would drain his energy in an instant, rendering him incapable of further combat.

Thus, the Ancient Bronze Sword was relegated to being Tantrum's ace in the hole, to be revealed only in dire circumstances. The frustration of possessing such a formidable asset yet being unable to utilize it weighed heavily on him.

"Since you've once taken the life of an emperor and tasted royal blood, I shall name you Monarch Blood Sword," Tantrum decided internally. He knew that if the sword's history as Lu Siniang's weapon against Yongzheng were to be revealed, its worth could skyrocket, fetching an astronomical sum at auction.

Yet, the Monarch Blood Sword was now Tantrum's Relic, his secret weapon, and he had no intention of ever putting it up for sale.

"Moving forward, I must swiftly advance my Relic Arts and bolster my spiritual energy," Tantrum contemplated, his brow furrowed with concern. "With the antique market booming and prices soaring, where can I source enough antiques to fuel my training?"

After much deliberation, Tantrum concluded that opening his own antique shop, much like Gu Qianqian had done, was the key to accessing a steady stream of antiques. Relying on the unpredictable luck of finding bargains in the market was not a sustainable strategy for his cultivation needs. Only through his own establishment could he hope to gather the vast array of antiques necessary for his progress.

Above all, the antiques Tantrum used for his training could still be resold, potentially earning him a substantial sum of money.

Opening an antique shop was a venture Tantrum wasn't sure how much would cost, but he was certain it wouldn't be a matter of merely tens or hundreds of thousands of yuan—he needed a significant amount of start-up capital.

Tantrum resolved to scrounge up this initial investment from the antique market.

On his last foray, Tantrum had been incredibly fortunate, stumbling upon a small cauldron that dramatically enhanced his perception and granted him his first Relic. This time, he was hoping his streak of good luck would persist.