Chapter 1070 – What on Earth is Your Background? (3)
“This is imitation paper—”
Jiang Pengji took a glance, a flicker of coolness flashing in her eyes, but she maintained her composure on the surface.
“What is imitation paper?”
Wei Ci was reluctant to part with the sheet, his fingers caressing its texture, inwardly marveling—
Is such outstanding papermaking craftsmanship truly achievable by human hands?
“Just ordinary paper.” Jiang Pengji lowered her gaze with a cold smirk, the curve of her lips dripping with sarcasm, “It’s getting more interesting.”
Wei Ci was lost, what did “getting more interesting” even mean?
But Jiang Pengji had no intention of explaining; she placed the black wooden box on the table, her gaze now serious.
As she reached out to open it, Wei Ci hurriedly interjected.
“Not so fast, my Lord. This object’s origins are unclear; if there are any malicious toxins inside—”
He cradled the squirming black-and-white lump in his right arm, while his left hand stopped Jiang Pengji from “risk-taking.”
Jiang Pengji replied, “With that person’s skills earlier, if they truly meant me harm, did they need to set traps inside?”
This body of Liu Xi was too weak; had it been the former her, she would have been confident in settling scores with the visitor.
Wei Ci couldn’t argue against Jiang Pengji; he could only watch her actions with tension.
If something unexpected happened, he’d be ready to spring into action.
“It won’t open; the lock on this box is faulty—”
Jiang Pengji tried and found the box had a lock, its design peculiar, making it impossible to locate the keyhole.
“This lock… seems to employ a strange mechanism technique; my Lord, you won’t be able to open it like this.” Wei Ci leaned in to take a closer look, quickly assessing the situation, “Why don’t you let me try? I might be able to unlock it—”
Jiang Pengji raised an eyebrow and shifted slightly to provide space for Wei Ci to work on the lock.
He set the black-and-white lump on his knee, the little creature whining twice, clearly unwilling.
Hearing the sound, Jiang Pengji glanced over and caught the little guy looking back at her, its bright eyes like two shiny black grapes, so clean they could reflect her image. Taking advantage of Wei Ci’s focused effort, she stealthily reached out and tugged at the lump.
The little creature’s fur was freshly grown, soft as cotton candy.
Jiang Pengji couldn’t resist running her fingers from its white nape to its black shoulder straps, before sliding down to its plump rear and giving it a squeeze.
The black-and-white lump realized it had been relocated and was being teased; it awkwardly turned its head to stare at Jiang Pengji.
Wei Ci’s fingers danced skillfully as he worked on the lock, marveling.
“The one who crafted this lock must be a master of mechanisms.”
Without solid skills in mechanisms, this lock was impossible to open; he couldn’t fathom who could have made it.
After nearly burning an incense stick’s worth of time, Jiang Pengji’s expression began to show impatience.
This feeling wasn’t directed at Wei Ci—
“To send a gift yet set up obstacles, it’s hard to tell whether this is goodwill or malice.” Her tone was sharp, her frowning brows leaving creases, “If Zixiao can untangle this mess, why not just smash it open and save us the trouble?”
“Is my Lord growing impatient?” Wei Ci chuckled deeply, suggesting to just bash it open was quite the violent act, and that part of him never changed, “Given how exquisite this locking mechanism is, whatever’s inside must be extraordinary; my Lord, do have a bit more patience.”
He wiped the thin sweat from his forehead, putting in more effort, and finally, after a struggle, he succeeded.
He pressed a certain part with his finger, and the crisp sound of a click resonated as the lid of the wooden box popped open, revealing its true contents.
“This, this isn’t—”
Wei Ci nearly bit his tongue in shock as he recognized the item in the long wooden box.
Jiang Pengji raised her head at his words. Setting the black-and-white lump back on her knee, she reached into the box to pull out a quiet object lying inside.
It was a sword.
The blade was narrow and straight, glimmering like fresh snow, with faint natural cloud patterns on it, exuding an aura of wealth and sharpness.
The sword’s hilt was long, wide at both ends and narrow in the middle; even if held with both hands, it wouldn’t feel cramped.
The total length of the blade and hilt was three feet three inches, slightly longer than ordinary swords.
“Do you recognize this sword?” Jiang Pengji caught onto Wei Ci’s astonishment; he had definitely seen and was familiar with it.
Wei Ci took a moment to compose himself, considering how to respond, “This sword—was once the Emperor’s sword, accompanying her in countless battles across the south and north for over a decade, drinking the blood of many under her blade, even taking down several traitors and enemy generals—ever since I followed the Emperor, this sword has never left her side. Later, on the eighteenth birthday of Changsheng, the Emperor gifted this sword to her as a token for the heir—”
This was the first time Wei Ci had spoken so frankly about “the Emperor,” and especially in front of Jiang Pengji.
“Changsheng? No wonder—” Jiang Pengji understood something, a slight smile appearing on her face, “No wonder you are so fond of Feng Jin’s child. If I’m not mistaken, Fushou is also our future child? But that name is already taken and can’t be used now.”
Wei Ci’s expression turned bashful; wasn’t that beside the point?
“So you’re saying this sword—has appeared before?”
Jiang Pengji didn’t pursue the opportunity but instead shifted the topic, which relieved Wei Ci greatly.
If she continued to press, he felt he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Mm, but the Emperor never spoke about its origins. Outsiders assumed it was captured from the enemy, but I believe that’s not the case.”
A mystery from his past life, unexpectedly here he was, witnessing the “answer” in this life.
The Emperor’s sword wasn’t a trophy nor a divine artifact, it was simply a gift from a mysterious figure.
“Of course not—this sword’s material isn’t something that current smelting techniques can produce.” Jiang Pengji said lightly; since she and Wei Ci shared a secret, she wasn’t worried he wouldn’t accept, nor was she concerned her words would shock him, “Do you realize? This sword—had it been in my previous life, it was also extremely rare, only those among billions could possess one.”
Wei Ci’s eyes widened in astonishment.
In both lives, this was the first time he had heard his Lord speak about her past.
“My Lord’s… previous life?”
“It was a very beautiful yet cruel world.”
Having personally experienced death and rebirth, Wei Ci had a high acceptance of the bizarre. With the suspicions he already harbored, hearing Jiang Pengji admit it only piqued his curiosity about what kind of world could cultivate someone like her.
Someone who should inherently stand at the pinnacle, looking down upon all beings; any slight grievance to her was like humiliation.
“But that’s all in the past; let’s not dwell on it.” Jiang Pengji said candidly, “This paper, this sword, has a significant backstory.”
“A significant backstory?”
Jiang Pengji continued, “The raw materials for the paper are plant fibers, but this represents the oldest papermaking technique; for instance, today’s rice paper and bamboo paper use the most primitive materials. To produce vast quantities of paper, an immense number of plants must be felled. Excessive deforestation leads to environmental degradation, turning lush forests into wastelands. In my world, laws ban using plants for papermaking due to excessive pollution and high costs, but people will always need paper goods, as nothing else can replace them, thus there exists imitation paper.”
In other words, imitation paper was a product exclusive to Jiang Pengji’s era and couldn’t possibly exist in this one.
