Li Jing, style name Morninglight. The first disciple of the Sword Sect’s Second Elder. Specialist in the rapier.
Song Yin spread out the portrait and dossier, familiarizing herself with the “client” and doing her homework in advance.
Sikong Lan walked behind her, carrying a cup of tea.
“Morninglight?” She immediately started roasting him. “With a name like that, I thought he sold stationery.”
She squinted at the portrait. “He really does look like Miffy the rabbit.”
Song Yin’s professional skills were truly exquisite. In less than half a day, she had already exchanged names with Li the Leader and was strolling down the street with him.
Li Jing wore his high ponytail tied with the standard light-gray ribbon of the Sword Sect. His simple training robes were washed to a faded white. He cradled his precious sword, and when he smiled, two dimples appeared. He was sunny and youthful.
When Song Yin met him in person, she noticed he had two very prominent front teeth. When he smiled, he looked exactly like a rabbit.
Because of Sikong Lan’s influence, Song Yin accidentally misspoke several times.
“Ra… Master Li… Ra… Master Li.”
Fortunately, the two had plenty to talk about and bonded quickly.
This Master Li was constantly “peacocking,” dancing with his sword and demonstrating his sword-flying skills.
Song Yin praised him, saying “Oh, how amazing! How wonderful!” but in her heart, she wasn’t even as moved as she was when she saw her Big Senior Brother (the cat) do a somersault.
She was someone who had been “raised in luxury” by her Master; mere sword-flying couldn’t fool her.
Furthermore, according to her original plan, she had no intention of “abducting” a sword cultivator back to her sect. Sword cultivators were far too expensive to maintain, and she was currently broke. She couldn’t afford to raise one.
Besides, her Master had said: Do not spend a poor man’s money. Otherwise, there was a good chance he would count the cost of maintaining his sword against her, and she’d end up “spending his money” in some incomprehensible way.
The “unconditional kindness” a sword cultivator offered her was likely a kindness with “no economic conditions.”
She was only there to trick Li Jing out of his feelings, waste his practice time, and incidentally pry into the secret of his sudden “awakening.”
Li Jing took on a Mysterious-grade mission to eliminate about a hundred scorpion spirits. He intended to show off in front of Song Yin; his light sword danced with fifty-six flashes of light, dazzling to the eye.
Those scorpion spirits were extremely agile, but Li Jing’s sword was as light as a cloud and as swift as a star. Every ray of sword light accurately pinned a scorpion to death.
When a scorpion spirit turned to attack Song Yin, she held her umbrella with an innocent look, not moving an inch. Li Jing charged over, shattering the scorpion into dust with a single strike.
“Wow, Master Li is so amazing! That was a close call just now, thank you!”
Song Yin offered verbal praise while her mind rapidly calculated how to keep him busy with more low-level missions to drain his energy.
Li Jing was smug, patting his chest as he guaranteed: “If Miss Song Miao has any trouble, you can always find me. If it’s something a sword can solve, I will go through ten thousand deaths for you.”
Song Yin invited Li Jing to go window-shopping again. The two of them literally just walked the streets; they didn’t buy a single thing.
Song Yin was still being punished by her Master and didn’t have half a cent of pocket money.
As for Li Jing, he was even worse. Sword cultivators were almost all poor; they were only a broken bowl away from being beggars.
The Zhuque Province was dominated by avian tribes, most of whom loved beauty. Novel and exquisite gadgets were countless.
Song Yin would spot a piece of jewelry after two steps, then a dress after another two. She liked this and that, and the merchants, seeing how beautiful she was, recommended items eagerly.
However, Song Yin’s pockets were empty, and Li Jing was “clinking with poverty.”
He reached into his flat coin purse, stingily fished out a few copper coins, and sighed: “Miss Song Miao, let me buy you a bag of roasted chestnuts. This is all I have left.”
After hesitating for a long time, he put one copper coin back. “Let’s buy half a bag. I don’t really like eating them.”
That’s just how sword cultivators are: they’ll give you their life, but they won’t give you money.
After buying half a bag of warm chestnuts, Li Jing indeed didn’t eat them. Instead, he peeled one first to feed his sword spirit, who refused. Only then did he offer it to Song Yin, who didn’t want to eat it either.
Li Jing was a bit puzzled and ended up eating the whole bag of chestnuts himself while holding his sword.
The streets of Zhuque Province were filled with strange and wonderful things.
Song Yin reluctantly put down an octagonal hand mirror with a blue bird’s tail feather handle. Li Jing had already stepped back by exactly one pace—a posture that was appropriately intimate with her, but completely devoid of any intention to pay.
The merchant’s expression toward Li Jing said it all: Tsk tsk tsk, bringing such a beautiful girl out and being unwilling to spend a single cent. Just die of poverty then.
“Master Li,” Song Yin said, reaching out to tug on his sleeve. “I heard that the spirit stones of you sword cultivators are used to feed your precious swords. You’re the Leader; is your sword the most beautiful among all the sword cultivators?”
She wanted to find an opportunity to break his sword! That way, he couldn’t fight Jiang Zuilan!
“I’m not the Leader yet,” Li Jing said softly while peeling a chestnut. The light in his eyes dimmed significantly, and his tone lowered.
“My junior brother and I are always at a draw. Everyone believes my junior brother is younger and has higher talent. From childhood to now, everyone has liked him more. Even when we make mistakes together, the Elders only scold me, never him. No one in the sect has ever spoken up for me.”
He sighed gently. “Everyone believes he is the true Leader. That’s why I have to use this competition as a chance to prove myself against him.”
He sighed again. “Miss Song Miao is a black cat demon; I suppose you don’t understand the Way of the Sword.”
Song Yin wasn’t angry.
She narrowed her eyes and praised him: “Mm! I believe you will definitely be stronger than your junior brother!”
She schemed to make Li Jing put all his effort into fighting his junior brother. Perhaps that would exhaust his stamina so he wouldn’t have enough strength to oppose Jiang Zuilan.
Li Jing smiled, not entirely believing her words.
“I really like that feather mirror,” Song Yin sighed softly again.
Li Jing gripped his sword, struggled internally for a moment, and said: “I’ll go do some small missions to exchange for points and buy it for you.”
Song Yin smiled, showing her tiger fangs.
Great! Drain his stamina and leave him no time to cultivate.
He walked a few steps, then turned back: “For the money for the mirror… can you give me an IOU?”
After spending half a day together, Song Yin hadn’t managed to scout the secret of Li Jing’s “awakening.”
He was utterly ordinary, fitting the sword cultivator stereotype perfectly: no EQ, stingy, and treated his sword like a wife.
When asked who qualified as a formidable rival, he said only his junior brother was worthy of fighting him.
He didn’t even mention Jiang Zuilan. Song Yin felt a bit of anger in her heart, finding him both foolish and arrogant.
What a tasteless fellow.
Song Yin was full of confidence: “Third Sister, this guy is nothing special. He shouldn’t be your opponent.”
Jiang Zuilan sighed. “It’s hard to say. This world is very strange; often, it’s the stupid and wicked things that take the biggest prizes.”
Song Yin thought about it and realized she was right; she still had to keep an eye on this Li Jing.
After all, he had “awakened” in a year, leaping from Foundation Building to Golden Core. Who knew if he would “awaken” again in these few days.
She then asked Jiang Zuilan: “Why are you in such a hurry?”
Jiang Zuilan explained the trouble she’d encountered in detail.
“A very famous sword cultivator had a scandal yesterday. Before going up to the arena, he was exposed for dating six junior sisters at the same time.”
“How filthy!” Song Yin condemned immediately, then asked, “What does that have to do with us?”
Jiang Zuilan sighed again.
Jiang Zuilan was a business “genius” whose ambition outweighed her skill.
It wasn’t that she had never made money—she had her moments—but she was addicted to the industry and didn’t know when to quit. The money she made on one bet would usually be lost on the next.
She had previously heard her Master explain the concept of “merchandise.” She immediately mastered the idea and expanded on it. After arriving in Zhuque Province, she investigated who the most popular sword cultivator was and immediately started a shop to produce a batch of his signature sword tassels and small clay figurines.
Business was booming at first. Jiang Zuilan had even increased her capital investment, taking out a loan to continue production.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the man’s reputation collapsed. Now, she was stuck with all the stock!
“That is a bit of a problem,” Song Yin said, stroking her chin. “Don’t worry, he should still have some die-hard fans who will pay up.”
Song Yin’s eyes darted as she thought of a plan. “I’ll go to the plaza and scold him. I’ll see who argues back the hardest, then I’ll bring them to your shop to buy everything.”
No sooner said than done. Song Yin put on a cloak to hide most of her face, chose a time during the arena matches, and started loudly berating the sword cultivator in the crowd.
She mainly attacked his pain points and compared him unfavorably to others.
“A fickle, loose man! Does he think his swordsmanship is so great? He’s not even… not even as good as Li Jing!”
But Song Yin’s plan hit a snag.
She had only managed to scold for two sentences—before she even had the chance to see what the disgraced sword cultivator looked like or lead the rival fans to Jiang Zuilan’s shop—when someone suddenly grabbed her hand.
She looked up and met Li Jing’s hopeful eyes.
“Don’t go scolding my junior brother for my sake.”
The light in his eyes grew even more intense, his tone moved. “This is the first time someone has stood on my side and criticized my junior brother.”
Song Yin was stunned for a moment. She looked up at the arena and suddenly realized that the disgraced sword cultivator was actually Li Jing’s junior brother.
She looked down at her hand being held tightly by him and blinked. This seemed like it might be a bit of trouble.
“My medicine is nearly finished. I’m only missing the final ingredient.”
At a restaurant, Helan Tan was by the high window, revealing his secret to Shi Qiu.
“I only need one Phoenix Feather Sunflower, and the Heaven-grade Dispel Confusion Pill will be complete.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he went silent again, merely holding a cup of light wine and gazing out the window. Shi Qiu followed his gaze down to the street.
The restaurant window faced the long street, specifically a kite stall. Various paper kites were propped up and displayed, their colorful long streamers swaying in the breeze blowing from south to north.
In front of the stall were the backs of two girls: one tall and slender in a pink dress, and one curvaceous and pretty in a goose-yellow dress.
Helan Tan’s gaze was lingering on the figure in goose-yellow.
Song Yin had her jet-black hair tied in a simple bun with a hairpin. She held a black-and-white-gray swallow kite in one hand and a diamond-shaped four-color kite in the other, comparing them as she looked up and down, occasionally asking Jiang Zuilan for her opinion.
Helan Tan spoke to Shi Qiu, his eyes never leaving Song Yin. “Look. She’s releasing her charm again, making me instinctively want to buy her things—clothes, jewelry, pastries—just to make her happy and spend money on her…”
Shi Qiu looked where he was pointing, then looked back, finding it bizarre. “But… she isn’t even looking at you.”
“That’s just how she is. She is a very powerful Charm Demon.”
Helan Tan was certain. But he couldn’t go down there now. If he went now, it would look like he was completely infatuated with her, which would be undignified.
He would wait a bit longer.
However, he didn’t get that chance, because a person ran up from the side of the street.
Li Jing called out enthusiastically: “Miss Song Miao!”
Song Yin turned around, greeting him with a smile.
“Don’t spend money on a kite.”
Li Jing completely ignored the sour look from the kite shop owner. He stood beside Song Yin and bluntly handed over a simple, handmade kite. “Here, I made this for you.”
Helan Tan suddenly crushed his wine cup.
Word was that Li Jing had advanced another grade in two days.
Now, not only was Jiang Zuilan anxious, but even Song Yin couldn’t sit still.
What on earth! How does he level up so fast!
Back then, she had only advanced a grade by taking Helan Tan’s Primal Yang and dual-cultivating with him for two days and nights!
Song Yin was unconvinced, so she asked Li Jing out again, trying to figure out the secret of his advancement.
She sat in the inn waiting, not forgetting to scout for sect gossip.
From time to time, she saw people passing the inn where the Hehe Sect (Acacia Sect) was staying, shouting loudly:
“I will never be a woman’s dog again! I will never let a woman lie to me again!”
Song Yin mused that they certainly had a lot of spirit.
She also heard news about the exchange competition’s free-for-all.
The free-for-all was an annual tradition. The top eight from the previous year were all very strong.
And the winner of the last competition wasn’t a Saber Cultivator or a Physical Cultivator; it was the Beast Taming Sect.
Others were surprised: “The Beast Taming Sect? Logically, they shouldn’t be able to beat those other sects. What kind of rare, fierce beast was it?”
Someone answered: “Last year, the Beast Taming Sect produced a very beautiful Junior Sister. On her leash, she was leading a Sword Cultivator.”
…What a niche phrase. What a niche play.
Before Song Yin could find out the name of this outstanding predecessor, Li Jing arrived.
Song Yin was happy she had also “abducted” a young and handsome sword cultivator. If time permitted, she wanted to abduct one from every profession: Buddha Cultivator, Physical Cultivator, and the rest.
She led her “puppy” over.
The “puppy” was actually a big yellow dog she had picked up on the side of the road. The dog had been begging for food on the street; there were shards of porcelain under its feet, and its paws were cut and bleeding profusely, stained red. The dog lay on the ground, whimpering softly and piteously.
Song Yin picked up the dog and tied her goose-yellow hair ribbon around its neck. For now, it was her puppy. She wanted to take it to a doctor.
Li Jing took one look at the filthy dog and his footsteps toward her faltered for a moment.
Song Yin was puzzled. “Are you afraid of dogs?”
Li Jing: “I’m afraid of dirt.”
Song Yin almost didn’t want to talk to him anymore.
Li Jing added: “You have a puppy smell on you too.”
Song Yin really didn’t want to talk to him.
Song Yin held the dog and walked forward gloomily. Jiang Zuilan wasn’t with her today as she was participating in another arena match. Song Yin could only try her luck on the street, looking for a doctor willing to treat a puppy.
Song Yin and Li Jing walked side-by-side for a while. The dog huddled quietly on Song Yin’s shoulder.
Li Jing tried to find topics to talk about, but Song Yin barely responded to him.
Li Jing’s germaphobia was too severe. He looked at her and said again, “The puppy’s paws are so dirty.”
Awoo. The yellow dog pulled its head back on Song Yin’s shoulder, drooping its head piteously, its tail hanging down.
Song Yin patted the dog’s back, smoothing its fur, and brushed him off: “Mm-hm.”
Li Jing didn’t know what he had done wrong. He rubbed his head, his face confused.
Halfway through, he received a transmission. He said apologetically: “Miss Song Miao, our sect is holding a ‘Discipline and Integrity’ meeting. I have to head back immediately. I’m sorry.”
Song Yin didn’t try to make him stay. She watched Li Jing leave in a hurry, then continued to pick out fruit while leading her dog.
The owner of the fruit stall was hawking his wares, but the owner of the medicinal herb shop next door, who was cracking melon seeds, spoke up first.
“Little girl, I’m not one to stir up trouble.
“But your partner there… he even dislikes your dog. He clearly doesn’t love you with his whole heart. If his eyes were full of you, he should love what you love. How could he find the puppy dirty?
“Trust me, I’m really not one to stir up trouble.”
Song Yin bought a piece of fruit and paid for it. She gave half to the puppy and ate the other half herself as she walked, crunching away.
Following the directions of a passerby, she found a pharmacy that had some connection to the Beast Taming Sect; this shop would treat small animals.
The pharmacy wasn’t open yet. There was a temporary notice saying the shopkeeper would be back in half an hour.
Song Yin saw it wasn’t a long wait and was too lazy to return to the inn. She squatted in front of the pharmacy, holding the puppy.
There was an empty, overturned water vat in front of the shop. She simply sat on the ceramic vat, counting ants as she waited.
“What’s wrong?” Someone approached from behind.
“I want to treat my puppy.” Song Yin didn’t look up. She remained sitting on the vat, rubbing the yellow dog’s head with her palm.
She didn’t even notice that the person’s voice sounded a bit familiar.
Someone squatted down in front of her, their blue robes swaying in the wind.
He looked down at the dog, his blue crescent-moon earrings swaying.
“Oh.” Song Yin was a bit surprised to run into him. She immediately stared at him intently.
But Helan Tan didn’t acknowledge her. He checked the dog’s paws with a cold, expressionless face.
“The puppy is in a lot of pain,” Song Yin said, leaning close to him. She had already jumped down from the vat and squatted beside him.
Helan Tan still didn’t speak. He simply held the puppy’s paw, swiftly cleaned the wound, and skillfully applied medicinal powder. He pulled out a bandage and wrapped it around and around.
He efficiently and neatly treated the puppy’s injury.
The yellow dog lifted its paw wrapped in white gauze, hopping toward Song Yin with a limp.
Helan Tan stood up, preparing to leave.
Song Yin held the dog and caught its bandaged front leg. Her eyes flickered as she said: “This wrapping isn’t good. I’m not satisfied.”
Helan Tan turned around, his light-blue eyes devoid of emotion. “What’s wrong with it?”
Song Yin looked up. “I want a bow.”
Woof. The puppy gave a low bark, seemingly in agreement.
Helan Tan approached again, still wearing a cold face. He stood beside Song Yin, pulled out another length of bandage, and used his slender hands to quickly tie a nimble butterfly bow over the wound.
A very light, elegant scent of Epiphyllum drifted to Song Yin’s nose. She looked at those well-defined hands; she knew exactly how nimble they were, inside and out.
But it was so strange. Why was his face so gloomy today?
Song Yin looked up at his face earnestly. His beautiful eyes seemed to be covered in a thin layer of blue ice, and his lips were tightly pressed together.
Only his ears gradually began to show a very faint flush of red under her gaze.
The bow was finished, and the puppy crawled back into Song Yin’s arms.
“Alright.” Song Yin had no other topics to discuss. She nodded and said politely, “Goodbye.”
She turned to leave. Her goose-yellow skirt had just stirred a breeze and her embroidered shoe hadn’t even touched the ground when a voice sounded from behind her.
“Miss Song,” he suddenly spoke.
Helan Tan was still standing in the same spot, pursing his lips, as if he had finally found a clumsy excuse.
“You haven’t paid me for the puppy’s medicine yet.”