The red sun had risen high—three poles above the horizon—shining down upon a quiet courtyard.
Li Chaofeng listened to the sounds of tables and chairs crashing inside the inn. He sighed inwardly, dipped his hand into the water basin before him, and splashed a bit onto the whetstone.
Once the stone was suitably damp, he placed the black-backed, blue-edged short blade onto it and began sharpening it with careful, deliberate strokes.
It had been five years. As a transmigrator, he had already spent five years in this world of martial heroes.
Li Chaofeng knew he was in a wuxia world—he'd heard far too many familiar tales for it to be otherwise.
For instance, Li Xunhuan had turned down the affections of Lin Xian'er, the most beautiful woman under heaven, and journeyed far beyond the borderlands, turning her title into little more than a joke.
Or how Yan Nantian, in pursuit of the truth behind his sworn brother Jiang Feng's death, had perished in the Valley of Villains.
More recently, rumors had spread of a master thief with unparalleled lightness skill—Chu Liuxiang.
The Great Banner Sect, the Azure Dragon Society, the Happy Forest, the Blue-Clad Pavilion… and even the Demonic Cult.
It was as though all of Gu Long's martial worlds had been mashed together by some unseen force—kneaded without concern for order—into a vivid, living reality.
At the very least, Li Chaofeng hadn't noticed anything fake about this world.
As for whether the interrelations between those characters were muddled or restructured, he couldn't say. For the past five years, he'd simply focused on survival—killing chickens and gutting fish in an inn.
Using the knowledge he'd brought from the modern world and a few cooking skills he'd retained, he'd managed to secure a position as the inn's cook.
All because, from the very beginning, he had known exactly what had brought him to this world—
The black and blue short blade he was now honing.
The blade was about seven and a half inches long—just the length of a palm.
Calling it a short blade was generous—it looked more like a dagger, but since its form was that of a knife, that's what he called it.
Though small, the blade was exquisitely crafted. It had etched patterns along its body, markings on the hilt, intricate carvings at the guard, and a thick spine.
Everything except a sheath.
When sheathed, it was a stunning work of art.
Li Chaofeng had originally bought it on a whim while driving past a flea market, simply because it looked good. Back then, it did have a sheath.
At the time of purchase, it was only about three inches long. Its material and weight made it seem more like a black stone than metal.
Combined with its ornate sheath, it had resembled one of those faux-antique handicrafts you'd find at a tourist stall.
But it was this very blade which had changed everything. One night, while cleaning it before bed, Li Chaofeng nicked his fingertip on the edge—and in an instant, everything changed.
He had awoken in a new world, a spray bottle of alcohol in one hand, the ornate blade in the other—and in the body of a ten-year-old boy.
The sheath was gone. He had become a child.
If not for the fact that he was still wearing his adult-sized pajamas, he might've doubted whether his life in the modern world had ever been real.
A modern youth in a world of martial arts, with no power to speak of, and a blade that looked far too valuable for his station.
Thankfully, though the blade had become razor-sharp, it hadn't transformed into some mystical jewel—it was simply well-crafted, nothing more.
A bit of dust smeared over its surface was enough to make it look like a toy some child had brought from home.
From then on, Li Chaofeng had searched constantly for a way back to his original world—and in doing so, discovered the blade's secret.
The short blade could absorb the blood of animals—and grow stronger with each offering.
Back in the modern world, Li Chaofeng had already investigated the strange engraving at the end of the hilt.
"Five Insects."
In ancient Chinese taxonomy, all living creatures were divided into five categories: 蠃 (luǒ), 鳞 (lín), 毛 (máo), 羽 (yǔ), 昆 (kūn)—collectively known as the Five Insects.
"Feathered Insects" (羽虫): Birds, led by the Phoenix.
"Furred Insects" (毛虫): Mammals, led by the Qilin.
"Armored Insects" (昆虫): Shelled creatures and aquatic beasts, led by the Spirit Turtle.
"Scaled Insects" (鳞虫): Fish, reptiles, and insects with wings or scales, led by the Flood Dragon.
"Bare Insects" (蠃虫): Naked creatures like humans, earthworms, and frogs—led by the Sage.
Over the five years, Li Chaofeng had used the blade to slaughter chickens, gut fish, crack turtle shells, skin snakes, and even slice open earthworms.
As his butchery skills improved, the blade gradually grew—from its original three inches to the seven-and-a-half it was now. Cold and gleaming, it had become a true weapon.
And the effects of the Five Insects began to manifest one by one:
Blood of the Feathered sharpened the edge—allowing the blade to cleave with blinding speed.
Blood of the Furred enhanced the blade's internal force—cutting water with a swing, severing flow without reunion.
Blood of the Armored thickened the spine—crushing bone and melting flesh without so much as scratching the skin.
Blood of the Scaled refined the point—"a crimson dot upon a thousand-mile river and mountain," piercing with elegant precision.
Blood of the Bare caused the entire blade to grow—both in length and size.
From three inches to seven and a half—that transformation had come partially from frogs and worms, and partially from Li Chaofeng's own blood.
But... in the past year, he had discovered that no amount of chickens, fish, or even self-sacrifice could further awaken the blade.
Its growth had reached a plateau.
And this was a wuxia world stitched together from Gu Long's novels—where even the Emperor was known only as "the Son of Heaven," and his name remained a mystery.
In Li Chaofeng's understanding, such a "low-fantasy" world was unlikely to contain legendary beasts like phoenixes, qilins, spirit turtles, or flood dragons.
There was only one kind of being he might encounter—
The Sage.
Or rather—Man.
Li Chaofeng was sharpening his blade—but the Five Insects Blade was no ordinary weapon. It never actually needed sharpening.
What it needed was for Li Chaofeng to kill.
To kill insects, beasts—even people.
What he was really honing wasn't the blade—but his own heart. The kind heart that had once belonged to someone from the modern world.
"Zzzzz~"
The short blade rasped continuously across the whetstone. But when a girl's cry for help echoed from within the inn, Li Chaofeng finally stopped.
He raised the short blade high beneath the sunlight, watching as its deep-blue edge shimmered. His eyes grew distant, dreamy, as he admired the cold gleam.
He knew it then—the blade within his heart was ready.
Or rather... it had never needed sharpening.
What truly dulled was his attachment to the habits of modern life, and it was that which he had to grind away.
As Li Chaofeng blinked, the short blade instantly shrank—and then vanished from his hand.
Not a single trace remained on his body. Not even a hint of where it had gone.
That was the blade's second trait: it could grow or shrink at will, and Li Chaofeng could store it inside his mind.
Yes—his mind, or more precisely, his consciousness.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he could feel it—suspended there within his awareness, quietly waiting.
He'd discovered this when the blade had grown to five inches in length.
It was a miraculous weapon, and Li Chaofeng… seemed to have become its master. Wherever his thoughts willed, it followed.
Or perhaps, more accurately—Li Chaofeng had become the sheath of the blade.
With the blade sheathed, Li Chaofeng stood up. Though his current body was only sixteen years old, he stood nearly six feet tall, his height making him appear like a grown man.
His tightly fitted traditional robes outlined thick, powerful muscles—his physique imposing, even terrifying.
Man nourishes the blade with blood. The blade nourishes the man with energy.
Now, his body was the sheath of the Five Insects Blade. As the blade had grown stronger, so had he.
With the physical strength he now possessed, ordinary men were no match for him.
The blood of feathered beasts had toughened his skin.
The blood of furred beasts had built his muscle.
The blood of scaled creatures had strengthened his tendons.
The blood of armored creatures had fortified his bones.
And the blood of the bare-skinned—of the "naked insects"—had come almost entirely from Li Chaofeng himself. Yet the blade did not seem to possess endless potential like some kind of perpetual engine.
The effect of the bare insect blood, as far as Li Chaofeng could tell, was only to make his body more harmoniously proportioned—nothing more.
At present, two major problems still plagued him:
First, he didn't understand internal energy.
Second, he didn't know any lightness techniques.
Yes, even though he had once been a peak specimen of modern humanity, Li Chaofeng now possessed no martial arts skills whatsoever.
A new journey begins—an original tale in a grand Gu Long-inspired martial world. Please consider adding this novel to your collection.