What did the inkstone taken from the distant capital truly mean for the ancient Jiao (蛟)? In the Sword of Coming (剑来) animation, a single object became the instrument of utter humiliation and brutal subjugation, revealing the terrifying gap between a fallen immortal and a creature terrified of its own shadow.
The Insult That Woke the Serpent
The great hall of the Big Water Mansion was supposed to be a place of authority. Yet, on this day, it belonged entirely to Cui Dongshan (崔东山). He stood there, a picture of arrogant ease, while Old Jiao and his son knelt in submission. Old Jiao, a being with the potential to transform into a true celestial dragon, had spent centuries deliberately suppressing his cultivation. He remained stubbornly at the Nascent Soul stage, for he knew that every step upward brought him closer to the scrutiny of the heavens and the inevitability of divine punishment. His strategy was simple: stay small, stay quiet, stay free.
But Cui Dongshan was not a man who respected such careful strategies. When Old Jiao attempted a polite negotiation, it was dismissed like the buzzing of a fly. When he dared to question the intruder’s power, he sealed his own fate. Old Jiao convinced himself that Cui Dongshan was bluffing, that his cultivation base was a lie. He lashed out, a desperate act of defiance against the arrogance in his home. It was the worst decision of his unnaturally long life. The attack did not land; instead, it served only to irritate the young man standing before him, transforming a casual visit into a calculated demonstration of absolute power.
The Inkstone and the Soul
In that moment of irritation, Cui Dongshan performed an impossible act. He reached out, not with his hand, but with his will, spanning the vast distance to the capital of Dali. There, in a quiet study, an old man named Cui Chan (崔瀺) was calmly writing. The inkstone beneath his brush vanished instantly. It didn't shatter or fall; it simply ceased to exist in that space. Cui Chan paused, his brow furrowing slightly in a rare moment of consternation. Though the spiritual connection between him and Cui Dongshan had been severed long ago, he understood exactly what was happening and where his property had gone. He knew the purpose it would serve.
To the observers in the Big Water Mansion, the sudden appearance of this mundane object was baffling. But to Old Jiao, it was a nightmare made manifest. The inkstone was no mere tool; it was a vessel connected to his very essence. It held the core of his being, the physical anchor of his soul. Cui Dongshan, ever the provocateur, began to taunt him, using the humiliating term "withered little Jiao" to strip him of his dignity.
Enraged by the mockery and the violation of his soul being handled so casually, Old Jiao attacked again. This time, Cui Dongshan was ready. He used the inkstone not as a blunt instrument, but as a key, unleashing ancient inscriptions carved by the Thunder God himself. The divine script slammed into Old Jiao's true body, and in a flash of agonizing light, three hundred years of painstaking cultivation were simply erased.
A Family of Fools
From that moment, the hierarchy was clear. Old Jiao was reduced to a servant, his life and death resting on the whim of the young master. He was forced to agree to a fate worse than death: to drain his own life force and luck to nourish the fortunes of the Dali dynasty. His dreams of quiet freedom evaporated. He had traded one form of servitude—to the heavenly laws—for a far more personal and immediate one. He was now a tool, a battery, a beast of burden for a nation he despised. His existence was no longer his own.
In his despair, Old Jiao looked at his children and saw only the architects of his ruin. His son, blind to the danger, had attacked a being he couldn't comprehend, earning a vicious beating without ever understanding why. His daughter, drawn to the dragon aura exuding from a man named Yulu (于禄), walked willingly into a trap, believing herself clever. They were fools, utterly oblivious to the forces they had offended. Old Jiao reflected bitterly on his own past, remembering the other children he had been forced to consume, and realized his entire bloodline was cursed with stupidity. In his rage and sorrow, he looked at his remaining offspring and contemplated devouring them too, just to be rid of the burden.
