In the animated series Sword of Coming 2 (剑来2), a lingering ghost of Qi Jingchun (齐静春) drifts through the world long after his death. He rarely appears to anyone, yet when he does, it always revolves around one poor boy from a small town. That boy is Chen Ping’an (陈平安), and Qi Jingchun has a strange but powerful trick: he asks powerful beings to “take a look at that boy.” It worked on the legendary Sword Mother, who ended up bonding with Chen Ping’an. Now, Qi Jingchun tries the same line on Bai Ze (白泽), the strongest creature in the Wildlands. What happens when a god-like being watches a mortal child’s life? This article explores why a single glance at Chen Ping’an can change minds, break prejudices, and even offer hope to the most weary of souls.
The Wandering Soul
When Bai Ze finally meets Qi Jingchun’s remnant spirit, his first words are telling: “I tried to find you, but you hid. Now that I’ve given up, you show up yourself.” For a being as powerful as Bai Ze, this admission is rare. He is the undisputed number one fighter in the Wilderness, known as the “Teacher of Ten Thousand Demons.” He knows the true name of every demon in existence, and if their numbers shrink, his power grows—some say he could even reach the fifteenth level. Yet he hates war. He has spent eons pushing for peace between humans and demons, even offering himself as a hostage to keep the peace for ten thousand years.
But that sacrifice has left him stranded. The demons call him a traitor. Humans respect his power but fear him deeply. No one truly trusts him. So when Qi Jingchun appears, Bai Ze is surprised. The ghost uses a respectful title, “Old Master Bai (白)”, acknowledging Bai Ze’s status. Qi Jingchun knows that winning Bai Ze over could change the balance between races. But how do you persuade a creature who has seen everything, been betrayed by both sides, and grown tired of hope? Qi Jingchun doesn’t argue or beg. He simply repeats the same phrase that worked on the Sword Mother: “Take a look at that boy.”
This is no random request. Qi Jingchun has set up an automatic trigger in his fading existence. Everything he does now revolves around Chen Ping’an. He believes that if anyone—even a jaded, ancient demon master—truly sees the boy’s life, they will be moved. He doesn’t ask for an immediate decision. Just a look. Just a moment of honest observation. It sounds simple, but in a world of scheming gods and cynical immortals, simplicity is the rarest magic.
One Look Magic
Why does Qi Jingchun put so much faith in this “one look” tactic? Because it worked before. When he first asked the Sword Mother to glance at Chen Ping’an, she hesitated. But after watching the boy’s childhood—his struggles, his losses, his unbreakable promises—she chose him as her master. She saw a kid who had nothing but still gave everything. Later, in the kingdom of Huang Ting (黄庭), she witnessed his inner world again and confirmed her choice. A divine sword that could have chosen anyone picked a poor orphan from a ruined town.
Now Qi Jingchun wants Bai Ze to do the same. He hands the demon master a sphere of water that contains Chen Ping’an’s entire life story. Not highlights or summaries—every dirty, painful, beautiful moment. Growing up in mud, keeping promises even when it meant fighting to the death, staying kind when the world gave him every reason to be cruel. Qi Jingchun is betting that Bai Ze’s ancient heart, tired of war and betrayal, will find something familiar and inspiring in that boy’s path.
He doesn’t pressure Bai Ze. He simply says, “Watch him when you have time. Or when you don’t. Just watch.” It’s the same casual, confident invitation he gave the Sword Mother. And just like with her, he expects it to work. Because Chen Ping’an’s life isn’t a heroic legend full of easy victories. It’s a slow, painful climb toward light. And for someone like Bai Ze, who has seen civilizations rise and fall, that kind of raw human persistence might be the only thing left that can surprise him.
The Boy’s Light
Chen Ping’an has a strange effect on the most powerful beings in the world. The Sword Mother fell for him. Even Qi Jingchun himself, back when he was alive, bowed deeply to this ragged child in a small town. What do they see? It’s not raw talent or destiny. It’s something smaller and bigger at the same time: a heart that refuses to break. Chen Ping’an grew up in poverty, lost everyone he loved, and faced constant betrayal. Yet he never stopped choosing kindness. He keeps promises like they are his only possessions.
Bai Ze’s situation is painfully similar. He wanted peace between demons and humans, so he sacrificed his freedom. In return, he got contempt from his own kind and fear from the other side. He is respected but isolated, powerful but lonely. Watching Chen Ping’an’s journey might remind him that hope isn’t naive. The boy also walks between two worlds—poor but proud, alone but never bitter. If a child can keep his light in a gutter, maybe an ancient god can find a reason to try again.
Qi Jingchun doesn’t promise that Chen Ping’an will save the world. He just asks Bai Ze to observe. He knows that the truth of a life, seen honestly, is more persuasive than any argument. And for Bai Ze, who has been starved of genuine connection for millennia, that simple act of watching might be the first step back toward faith in living beings. One glance at that boy—not to judge, not to use, just to see—could be the quiet revolution that even a fourteen-level demon master needs.