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“Really?” He Lingchuan lifted Fleeting Life, flipped it in his hand, and held it out to Fushan Yue. “Then why don’t you take a closer look?”
Fushan Yue did not stand on ceremony. He approached the saber and inspected it thoroughly from pommel to tip. “Hm, ring pommel with a flood-dragon head ornament. Yeah, that part’s very similar. But the grip’s a different length, and the curve of the blade is different too.” It’s clearly not the same saber. “Where’d you get this?”
He Lingchuan shrugged. “It’s a treasured saber passed down in my family. That question’s for my ancestors.”
Yeah, I guess that makes sense. How could it even be possible that the treasured saber the King of Yuān had entrusted away just happened to end up in the hands of some obscure nobody like this? Besides, flood dragon heads were a common decoration. I mean, half the blades in the world have lion heads or Yazi heads on them, does that mean they’d all been forged in the same furnace? It seems like I’m just being paranoid.
Fushan Yue snorted softly at himself.
He Lingchuan, however, pressed on. “What’s an elixir of youth?”
Fushan Yue scratched his head. “The name kind of tells you what it does, doesn’t it? It’s something that only Lingxu City produces, and I never paid attention to the details.”
“You’re about to inherit a throne, and you still don’t know?” He Lingchuan had not missed a single word in that...
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