Jiang He hadn't touched a sword for a long time, perhaps teaching the children had stirred memories from his own childhood, causing a certain itch in his hands.
He pulled out the sword that Kaiyuan had brought from under the bed, unwrapped the cloth covering its body, grasped the hilt and drew it out. The blade was speckled with rust due to the moisture, and the sword sheath cracked under Jiang He's grip, already rotten.
Xu Jin and his sister watched secretly, not approaching because their parents had forbidden them from touching the weapons in the house, otherwise, they would be in for a spanking.
The whetstone on the balcony had barely been used; Xu Qing only liked to practice swordplay for the whooshing sound, not for the sword itself.
Whoosh!
Jiang He carried a small stool over to the balcony, sprinkled some water on the sword, and carefully rubbed it against the whetstone.
