Pei Ye gazed upon the sword, surrounded by silence, with the cold mist swirling below the peak as if it had adhered to his skin. It lay there on the table, the feeble candlelight casting a dark, cold metallic sheen.
But in the end, it did not float up as he had imagined. This was merely an autumn night's prison, and nothing bizarre occurred.
Pei Ye released the hilt, took slow steps forward, and grasped the hilt, "clang" he drew it out.
The shiny blade gleamed like water, with a green handle wrapped in silk. A sword forged for Kongtong was naturally of the highest quality; all details were proper and solid. Pei Ye's gaze swept inch by inch across the sword but found nothing beyond what was usual for an ordinary sword.
Of course, a sword could move without being held in someone's hands, provided there was the support of True Qi or Mysterious Qi. However, the essence remains that it was a person in control, just with the hand holding the sword changing from tangible to intangible.