The Lifebound Sword Made Him Realize He Was Being Watched

The wooden stick gradually took shape in Lin Qingyun's hands, becoming a sword, and he handed it to He Zhuoming. "Try it out, see if it's the right length."

He Zhuoming took the wooden sword and gave it a twirl, the motion almost graceful.

It looked elegant enough, but in truth, it was clumsy—full of holes as obvious as the sun.

Lin Qingyun clapped in appreciation. "Good! A fine flourish! Have you trained with a sword before?"

He Zhuoming felt rather pleased with herself, a hint of pride creeping in. "I learned some sword dancing in my youth class."

Lin Qingyun reached out, took the sword back, and whittled it down a few inches shorter. He Zhuoming sidled over and crouched beside him. "Was it too long?"

It had felt fine when she swung it—she hadn't noticed any problem.

Lin Qingyun said, "It was a little long. If I didn't shorten it, you wouldn't be able to draw the blade cleanly."

He had made the wooden sword according to his own habits, but only when he saw that clumsy flourish did he realize He Zhuoming's arms were shorter than his, and she was shorter than him too.

He cut off the extra wood, then glanced at the girl crouched beside him, arms wrapped around her knees. Half her face was bathed in firelight, the other half swallowed by the night, yet her features were unusually clear—bright eyes, brows neat and tidy, staring without blinking at what his hands were doing. But her cheeks were round and soft, the entire contour of her face wrapped in smooth, gentle lines.

Youthful. Harmless. Devoid of any wariness.

Like a tame, affectionate little dog.

For some reason, Lin Qingyun felt a faint, indescribable discomfort.

He Zhuoming kept staring at him as he worked, blinking rarely. The intense sensation of being watched made the back of his hand prickle.

This was strange. Given his position, he should have long been used to thousands of gazes. And Xiao He was just one person, with only one pair of eyes—yet somehow, only her gaze made him feel...

No, not feel—become aware.

Her gaze made him realize that he was being watched.

He slowed his movements, careful not to ruin the wooden sword, and stared back at He Zhuoming with the same unblinking intensity. He thought his own gaze was far more focused and imposing than hers.

But He Zhuoming didn't notice at all.

Until the sun in the west had fully sunk, until the wooden sword in his hands was finished—He Zhuoming only ever watched his hands as he shaped the blade, never once lifting her eyes to his face.

Naturally, their gazes never met.

Lin Qingyun poked her with the finished wooden sword. Caught off guard, He Zhuoming fell flat on her butt.

She looked up at him, confused. "What are you doing?"

Lin Qingyun blinked, smiled innocently, and mimicked her tone. "What did I do?"

He Zhuoming: "...Why did you poke me?"

Lin Qingyun: "You were crouching there without moving, so I wanted to see if you'd fallen asleep."

He Zhuoming pouted. "Who sleeps with their eyes open like mine? Hiss... my foot's all numb."

She rubbed her ankle, then stretched both legs out. Lin Qingyun laid the wooden sword across her lap. "Why sit like that?"

He Zhuoming felt puzzled, tilting her head and turning her gaze back to him. "Like what?"

Lin Qingyun pointed at his own crossed legs. "At least tuck your legs in."

He Zhuoming said matter-of-factly, "But my legs are numb, so I'm just going to let them stretch for a bit. Once they feel better, I'll tuck them in myself."

As she spoke, her gaze drifted away from him again, turning to study the wooden sword he had given her. She picked it up, touched it, swung it.

But with her level of swordsmanship, she still couldn't tell the difference between this length and the previous one.

She asked Lin Qingyun, "Now that I have a sword, what do I do next?"

Lin Qingyun said, "Wait until the sun rises tomorrow, then I'll teach you the breathing techniques for cultivation."

He Zhuoming: "Don't I need to learn sword techniques first? Oh! If I get really good, can I fly on a sword?"

Whenever she encountered something completely unknown, her attention and gaze would shift back to him. Clutching the wooden sword he had given her, she looked at him with bright, curious eyes, full of eagerness to learn.

Lin Qingyun narrowed his eyes, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "To fly on a sword, you'd need at least a lifebound sword of your own."

He Zhuoming: "Then how do I get a lifebound sword?"

Lin Qingyun: "Depends on fate."

At that, He Zhuoming slumped in disappointment. "What the heck—that's like saying nothing at all... Do all cultivators use swords?"

Lin Qingyun said, "Most use swords or sabers, but there are also hooks, axes, spears, whips, and hammers. It depends on where one's fate lands."

He Zhuoming fiddled with the wooden sword, thought for a moment, then raised a question. "What if someone doesn't have any fate?"

Lin Qingyun smiled and said something rather cruel. "Haha, then they just can't cultivate! But they could always go worship at a temple more—maybe they'll have better luck in the next life."

There was a subtle sharpness in his tone when he said it, but He Zhuoming didn't notice. Her mind jumped to something else entirely.

Her legs had gone less numb, so she shifted her sitting position and asked curiously, "Do you have a lifebound sword?"

Lin Qingyun smiled. "Of course I do—would you like to see it?"

He Zhuoming urged, "Yes, show me, show me!"

She vaguely remembered that in the original novel, the male lead had a lifebound sword, but she couldn't recall where he'd gotten it or what it looked like.

With a flick of his wrist, Lin Qingyun drew the black soft sword wrapped around his waist. Firelight and moonlight played across its blade—its sheen was nothing like metal, but more like silk.

The hilt in his hand was crimson, adorned with red crabapple blossoms.

He Zhuoming couldn't help letting out an "Ah!" She tossed the wooden sword aside, propped her arms on the ground, and leaned toward him, fascinated. "That's actually a sword? I thought it was your belt!"