Chapter 21

In the ten years she had known her, Qing Zhouxue had never seen Yun Shuchen fight. At most, she would use a few minor spells.

She was always quiet and elegant. On lazy afternoons with golden sunlight slanting through, or during stretches of drizzly days, she would sit in the courtyard, reviewing sect documents, pruning flowers, or napping—cultivating her mind and spirit.

That was roughly the impression Qing Zhouxue had of her master.

Coupled with her frail constitution—unable to withstand cold or heat, spending no small amount of time bedridden—another layer was painted on in the disciple's heart: a delicate water lily in a lake, trembling at the slightest cool breeze, and if it grew colder, it would break.

And who did Qing Zhouxue usually practice against?

It was the senior brothers from the Sword Pavilion, as upright as pines and immensely strong, along with Ruan Mingzhu.

Though Ruan Mingzhu was a girl, she had been blessed with immense strength since childhood. She could whirl a long saber with such force that it howled like the wind. Beneath her clothes, her forearms were solid muscle.

Yun Shuchen had removed her cloak and stood not far off, hands clasped behind her back, her figure even more like a willow swaying in the breeze.

Even though Qing Zhouxue rationally knew that this woman could command wind and rain with a turn of her hand—a Mahayana-stage cultivator—her thrust still could not help but be tempered, holding back some force.

Was this little one trying to let her win? Yun Shuchen detected a strange thoughtfulness in that soft, weak thrust.

She stood there, calm as drifting clouds, letting the sword come at her. Just as the sharp, frost-laden blade was about to touch her clothes—her entire form dissolved into countless specks of starlight, vanishing abruptly.

Where had she gone?

A light pinch on her shoulder, and a chill ran down Qing Zhouxue's spine. She whipped her head around. Yun Shuchen said, "Right here."

In real combat, allowing an opponent to get this close without realizing was already an extremely dangerous situation.

Qing Zhouxue steadied her heart and swung her sword backward at her, putting all her speed into the strike—yet it cut only empty air.

A few soft chuckles. "Too slow."

Her slender, delicate fingertips traced a line of water through the void, and a great gush of water burst forth.

The current seemed to have a life of its own, converging and twisting into shape until it formed a translucent azure dragon, coiling in midair, breathing out clouds and mist.

Qing Zhouxue was stunned. She looked at the Qingshuang Sword in her hand—compared to the massive volume of that water dragon, it was like a toothpick.

Yun Shuchen stood by, calmly controlling the spell, watching the water dragon chase Qing Zhouxue out of the courtyard, then swallow her in one gulp.

Qing Zhouxue slid from the dragon's head all the way down to its tail, then was spat out from the tail end.

She picked herself up from the ground, soaked through, and tried to turn the soaring water dragon into solid ice. But the flow was too fast—before an inch could freeze, it had all turned back into living water.

Yun Shuchen's hand stopped, and the water dragon immediately dissolved, falling as rain.

"How did that feel?"

She used her spiritual energy to coax the water droplets off her disciple, one by one. The droplets gathered into a small fish floating in the air, swimming around her, occasionally pecking at her cheek with its mouth.

Qing Zhouxue touched the wet trail on her face and looked at the subtle curve of the woman's lips, a thought forming: this was a sparring session in name, but in reality, a playful torment meant to satisfy her elder's curious tastes.

Yet looking at her smile, so beautiful, Qing Zhouxue found it pleasing too. No irritation rose in her heart, and involuntarily, she curved her eyes as well.

"Master," she asked, "how were you able to dodge my sword?"

"Don't you think it was too slow?"

The words were indeed disheartening. Yun Shuchen explained, "In a few more years of cultivation, when you watch the junior brothers and sisters move, you'll understand how I see you."

"Moreover... you don't know the method, so naturally you can't see clearly."

"Close your eyes."

Qing Zhouxue obediently closed her eyes. The world before her was tinted orange by the sunlight. She felt a hand blocking that scorching red, and everything around her fell silent like the dead of night.

"Don't use mortal eyes."

Her palm was cool to the touch, comfortable against Qing Zhouxue's eyelids.

"The power you use all the time—have you ever truly paid attention to it? Only when you quiet your mind can you notice it."

Yun Shuchen casually snapped off a withered branch and placed it before her. Starting from where her fingertip held it, the branch began to soften, turn tender... and then, tremblingly, from its lifeless tip, sprouted buds and blossomed.

Though her eyes were closed, Qing Zhouxue could dimly sense life, under the urging of spiritual energy, struggling to emerge, until finally, with a rustle, it opened into a small flower.

She could not see its color nor know its shape. But she could feel the flow of spiritual energy, how it ran through the veins of the leaves.

"In battle, it is the same. Don't try to see their movements."

"Try, instead, to see their intentions."

"By the flow of spiritual energy?"

Yes, she was clever—she understood with a single word.

Yun Shuchen added, "Also the direction of muscle movement, the angle of force, all such considerations come from real combat. You are usually too obedient, not fighting much, so you've suffered for it, hmm?"

"But that's alright."

Qing Zhouxue opened her eyes and heard her say softly, "Your master will beat you regularly and in full measure from now on."

The sudden warmth evaporated. Qing Zhouxue opened her mouth, then finally answered, "Yes."

Yun Shuchen could not help but curl her lips. Before she could smile, she turned away, coughing a few muffled coughs behind her hand—perhaps from using spiritual energy just now.

Qing Zhouxue saw the corners of her eyes flushed red from coughing and felt a pang of helplessness. She hurriedly settled her into a windless spot in the house and poured her a cup of tea. "Master, your health matters most. In the future, this disciple will train alone."

"Actually..." Yun Shuchen tried to speak but choked on the water, coughing so hard it was heart-wrenching. It took a while to calm down.

Meeting her disciple's even more worried gaze, she sighed inwardly.

"Master, you don't have to force yourself."

"..."

Ever since that defeat at the hands of Xiao Hong's group, Ruan Mingzhu had become somewhat steadier. She had added several iron rings to her saber handle—solid ones, to train her arm strength. All day she practiced against her two domesticated eagles, sending feathers flying everywhere.

Bai Su still did not much care for fighting. She was a healer, and with a wood-type spirit root that could drive the growth of all things, compassion and gentleness were her nature. She was clearly more interested in following her master on medical rounds at Lingsu Peak.

"They are all rare talents, fine jade. It's a pity that when combined, they're like a pile of loose sand."

The Sect Leader most cared about the movements of this group. When he saw them voluntarily come together, he had been extremely pleased.

Unfortunately, things did not go as hoped. They did not perform better; in fact, they fared worse than fighting individually.

"What about that brat Xiao Hong?" The Sect Leader sighed. "How is he?"

Lin Xunzhen said, "Senior Brother Xiao and Senior Brother Chen, along with a few junior brothers, have gone to prepare for the competition."

"All Sword Pavilion disciples?" The Sect Leader's head ached even more at this. He gave a cold snort. "He's still the same as ever."

"These children all have good aptitude, each with an ego of self-importance. It's just that some show it, and some don't."

The Sect Leader pondered for a moment, then asked, "Nephew Lin, are you interested in participating in this competition? It would be a good opportunity."

Although Lin Xunzhen was the disciple of Elder Zhou, because of her outstanding ability, she often took part in managing sect affairs in the Sect Leader's hall. Previous outer-sect written exams and inner-sect recruitment trials had all been arranged by her.

The Immortal Ascension Assembly was held once every fifty years. Who would give up such a chance to make a name across the land?

Moreover, those who ranked on the list were almost guaranteed to be the next peak masters.

Lin Xunzhen was secretly pleased, but she furrowed her brows. "This disciple usually assists the Sect Leader and my master; I'm afraid I cannot juggle too many things."

The Sect Leader waved his hand. "No matter. It's true that piling all the sect affairs on your shoulders alone is unreasonable. If you want to participate, go ahead with peace of mind."

Lin Xunzhen then replied, "Yes."

"Which team do you lean toward?" The Sect Leader asked again.

If talking about the most talented, it would be either Qing Zhouxue's side or Xiao Hong's.

Lin Xunzhen would only choose between these two. To her, even if she could not win, meeting more outstanding peers was a good thing.

From the Sect Leader's description, it seemed that the more headache-inducing side was not Xiao Hong's but the other.

Lin Xunzhen met the Sect Leader's gaze, thought briefly, and said, "This disciple leans toward Junior Sister Qing's side."

The former group was still rough around the edges, and there was room for her.

Xiao Hong and Chen Lianqing were long-time partners; if she went there, she would only be at the periphery.

The Sect Leader's gaze showed approval.

Lin Xunzhen knew she had guessed correctly.

At this moment, the mountain maples blazed with a poignant red. A single red leaf, blown from the cliffs nearby, danced in the wind—like a flying petal, or a butterfly bathing in flames.

The red leaf drifted down and was lifted by the sword's wind.

Then, a single thrust pierced it.

As if losing its life force, it returned to the sea of crimson on the ground.

Qing Zhouxue sheathed her sword and heard footsteps behind her.

She turned to look. A senior sister stood not far off, watching her practice. The sister was dignified and delicate, with graceful bearing, like a young lady from an official family.

"Junior Sister Qing's sword technique is truly exquisite." She smiled, her tone very warm. "I think I met you once when you were young. Do you remember me?"

Qing Zhouxue recalled the senior sister who had led her on her first day at Heyi Peak—she looked very much like this one.

"Mm." She stood with the sword resting against her back, one simple syllable indicating she remembered.

Lin Xunzhen thought to herself that, as rumored, this great disciple of Heyi Peak was cold and taciturn. Having seen her now, it was indeed so.

She explained her purpose. Qing Zhouxue nodded. "Being able to add Senior Sister would naturally be good."

"And the others?" Lin Xunzhen looked around, seeing only Qing Zhouxue. "I see that at this hour, everyone else is practicing together. Why are you alone?"

"Senior Sister Bai is collecting herbs on Lingsu Peak. Junior Sister Ruan—she's been in a bad mood these days and is shut in her own peak cultivating alone."

"The competition isn't far off," Lin Xunzhen shook her head. "Next time, bring them both along."

The next day, Lin Xunzhen personally went to persuade them, pulling Ruan Mingzhu and Bai Su back. Perhaps the few days of stewing over her anger had done her good—Ruan Mingzhu was now as cheerful as ever, greeting Lin Xunzhen first, chatting the whole way.

When the talk turned to the competition, it was clear Lin Xunzhen had done some homework, but her views leaned more toward a defensive strategy.

"We need to keep one person to guard the rear. For instance, Bai Su. As long as the healer stands, a wood-type spirit root has inexhaustible vitality."

"Junior Sister Ruan, your spirit root clashes with Junior Sister Qing's, so it's just not suitable for you to fight together. We have to leave one of you out."

But who should be left out?

Qing Zhouxue said, "Let's go to the training ground and find out."

It happened to be empty today. They stepped back into the training ground and entered the illusion array. In an instant, the surroundings turned hazy, and the sky changed.

The opponents within the illusion array could adjust their cultivation realm at will. On a stone pillar beside the arena were several different grooves, and a gleaming gem could be placed in different positions to adjust the difficulty.

To simulate the most critical situation, Lin Xunzhen raised it to late Core Formation—two whole minor realms higher than what they had trained against before.

The conjured figure, bearing a weapon, charged at them.

Before Lin Xunzhen could say anything, out of the corner of her eye she saw a red blur dart out, swinging a saber, clashing with the phantom in fierce battle.

On the left, a swordsman lunged toward them. To protect Bai Su behind her, Qing Zhouxue also took up the Qingshuang Sword and engaged.

The swordsman's speed was equally fast. Before long, Qing Zhouxue could only see a blurry silhouette flickering before her eyes.

She was about to be overwhelmed again.

Just as her arms began to feel weak and numb, she recalled the warmth of her master's hand covering her eyes.

Don't use mortal eyes.

That sentence suddenly drifted through her mind.

She parried a sword stroke with a clang.

Wind howled past her ears. In that instant, she steeled herself, planted her stance like a stake, and closed her eyes.