When he awoke from the illusion that day, he was already lying in the disciples’ quarters.
Only the sword hanging on the wall testified that what he had experienced was no mere dream.
As Xiao Shuying stepped down from the couch, his stride lacked any stiffness or stagnation; it seemed that whether the fire or the wounds within the illusion were concerned, they had all been entirely illusory.
Yet what he hadn’t expected was that, given such a golden opportunity, Su Yunyu still hadn’t made a move against him.
Pulling his thoughts together, he simply walked over to the spiritual sword. The moment his fingers brushed against it, a name naturally surfaced within his mind:
“Wuling.”
A sword spirit is not independent of the sword; it relies on telepathic communication to convey a hazy intent to its master. At this moment, that name was the manifestation of the sword spirit.
Just as Xiao Shuying reached out to take it down, a voice rang out not too far away, and someone pushed open the door and stepped inside.
It was the Sect Master, Wenren Li, dressed in green robes, smiling faintly at the person beside him: “Your disciples’ quarters can finally be considered lively nowadays.”
His words trailed off when his gaze fell upon Xiao Shuying, and his smile subsided slightly.
Walking beside him was Su Yunyu, clad in frost-white immortal robes. As Xiao Shuying began to bow in greeting, Su Yunyu stepped up to him, furrowed his brows slightly, and supported him as he asked:
“Are you completely unharmed?”
“Thank you for your concern, Master. This disciple is already well,” Xiao Shuying smoothly withdrew the arm Su Yunyu had just supported, lowering his gaze while inwardly pondering the intentions of these two visitors.
Before he could puzzle out a conclusion, Wenren Li walked over to an armchair and sat down, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table as he said with composed ease:
“Your meridians are shattered, and repairing them requires finding three things: first, a cauldron capable of refining ninth-grade pills; second, the Nine-Heads Spiritual Rhinoceros Grass; and third, a location abundant with spiritual veins. Only when all these are combined with someone protecting you can the procedure succeed.”
With these words spoken, the purpose of their visit became abundantly clear.
Xiao Shuying raised an eyebrow slightly, feeling a surge of inward astonishment.
What on earth had gotten into Su Yunyu in this lifetime? He had actually taken it upon himself to repair his meridians.
Once his meridians were fully repaired, and coupled with his physique as a spirit of the three realms, his cultivation would advance by leaps and bounds, a thousand miles a day.
Give it time.
Killing Su Yunyu would be nothing more than turning his hand over.
At this thought, Xiao Shuying’s mind raced. Before Su Yunyu could speak, he feigned consideration, adopting a stance of advancing by retreating:
“Repairing this disciple’s meridians is far too troublesome. This disciple truly dares not burden Master and Uncle with such exhausting and laborious tasks.”
“No,” Su Yunyu interrupted him decisively. Though his demeanor remained cold and aloof, masking any trace of emotion, his words admitted no argument:
“To a cultivator, one’s meridians are the foundation of existence. If I were not around and you possessed no cultivation, how would you manage to look after yourself?”
For someone possessing an introverted and aloof persona, Su Yunyu had pushed himself to the absolute limit to appear warm-hearted.
He refused to believe that after saying something so touching, he still couldn’t move the Dragon-Heaven protagonist.
Yet Xiao Shuying concealed the suspicion lurking at the bottom of his eyes, putting on a hesitant and bashful facade as though he found it difficult to bear such immense grace, temporarily at a loss for how to respond.
He genuinely didn’t believe Su Yunyu would repair his meridians for him; he suspected there must be some ulterior motive, waiting only for him to be fattened up before being slaughtered.
It was Wenren Li who, unable to bear watching his timid demeanor any longer, spoke up to offer words of comfort:
“If you don’t exert yourself in this matter, relying solely on the sect will truly be difficult. Since you have already acquired your spiritual sword this time around, you ought to go to the Sword Hall to practice swordsmanship. Three days from now is the martial arts grand selection; only the top three hundred may enter the mystic realm. The mystic realm houses a ninth-grade pill cauldron, and whether you can get inside depends entirely on your own capability.”
With those words, Wenren Li poured himself a cup of tea and drained it in a single gulp. Only then did he stand up and walk over to Xiao Shuying.
Taking a good look at his frail constitution and recalling that he was his sole, precious junior brother’s only disciple, Wenren Li couldn’t help letting out a sigh:
“More words are useless; your destiny in the martial arts grand selection depends entirely on your own fortune.”
As the sigh faded, the scenery before them rippled like water in a pond. When the ripples subsided, Xiao Shuying raised his eyes to see a plaque hanging above, clearly inscribed with the prominent characters: “Sword Hall.”
To think the Sect Master’s cultivation was so unassuming, yet he could execute the technique of spatial teleportation to its absolute peak in a single breath.
He must have been thoroughly unnerved by his timid and weak appearance, which was why he had been in such a rush to send him here, sword and all.
At this thought, Xiao Shuying let out a sneer. Disregarding everything else, he gripped Wuling tightly and walked inside.
Meanwhile, back in the disciples’ quarters, Su Yunyu looked at the now completely empty space. Amidst his surprise, he felt a slight trace of embarrassment, casting a restrained glance at Wenren Li.
He said nothing, but his gaze was unmistakably laced with inquiry.
This prompted Wenren Li to burst into hearty laughter, clapping him on the shoulder as he said:
“The two of you, one is cold in speech and the other taciturn, neither of you can squeeze out a word after half a day. It was better for me to give a little push.”
He laughed again, amused by the startled yet refreshed look in Su Yunyu’s eyes.
In the past, he had never realized that this junior brother of his possessed such a lifelike, animated side.
Fascinating, truly fascinating.
Inside the Sword Hall, the white-bearded elder was speaking passionately and eloquently about the Dao of the sword. Catching sight of someone entering and looking up to see it was Xiao Shuying, his white eyebrows instantly bristled, and he barked out a halt:
“Stop right there!”
The elder knew who his master was, but he was afraid of no one, so he directly scolded him:
“We are finally teaching you all swordsmanship, yet you still manage to arrive this late. Today, stand by the side and listen to the lecture.”
Xiao Shuying froze in place, remained silent for a single second, and then looked at the elder with wide, “innocent” eyes to excuse himself:
“I was injured in the illusion and only just woke up. I didn’t mean to be late.”
Hearing this and looking at his paper-white complexion, the elder lost any remaining shred of doubt.
First feeling a pang of heartache over why Su Yunyu had taken him as a disciple, the elder coughed lightly and let the matter drop:
“Go back to your seat and listen to the lecture.”
Granted this compromise, Xiao Shuying curled his lips into a smile and returned to his seat.
He was hardly someone who took things lying down; the elder had misjudged him.
Although he was spared the punishment of standing during the lecture, the consequence of his late arrival was that after speaking briefly on the Dao of the sword, the elder announced that practical exercises would now begin.
The disciples were divided into pairs to spar with one another to reinforce what they had learned. As the command was given, the disciples inside the hall rapidly paired up. When Xiao Shuying looked around for someone to form a pair, he found that the only remaining person available was Xiao Qingran.
“Well, what a coincidence,” Xiao Qingran walked straight up to him, holding his sword as he looked down at him with a condescending gaze:
“Little brother, let’s you and I exchange a few pointers.”
Without waiting for Xiao Shuying’s reply, he drew his sword, flicked his wrist, and thrust the sharp blade directly toward Xiao Shuying’s face.
Xiao Shuying’s gaze darkened. He immediately drew Wuling, meeting blade with blade.
Though he possessed no cultivation, in his previous life he had commanded the three realms, granting him a wealth of experience that Xiao Qingran could never hope to match.
His swift movements caught Xiao Qingran off guard.
While he hadn’t intended to deal a fatal blow, that didn’t mean he would let Xiao Shuying emerge unscathed. Narrowing his eyes, Xiao Qingran slashed his sword forward once more—
As he hacked, Xiao Shuying sidestepped to evade, dodging several sword qi attacks by relying on the experience of his past life.
Even so, lacking cultivation caused his movements to be sluggish, lagging half a beat behind his thoughts.
Rip. The sword blade cleanly sliced the skin on his arm, and a long, thin cut welled up with startling, vivid blood.
Nursing a deep grudge, Xiao Qingran became all the more invigorated the longer they fought. Within a few exchanges, he had added numerous other cuts to Xiao Shuying’s body.
Only when the elder called out “Stop!” did Xiao Qingran pull back, highly satisfied. He sneered at him with unmitigated malice:
“That’s all the skill you have? You truly are a disgrace to the Immortal Venerable.”
With those words, he sheathed his sword and walked away.
Xiao Shuying pressed his lips together in silence, watching the arrogant back of his adversary. He picked up a small stone, used his fingers as a bowstring, and snapped it forward with a swish.
Straight and true, it struck squarely behind Xiao Qingran’s knee pit.
He lacked cultivation, but the internal energy gained from physical conditioning still remained to a small degree.
Thus, as Xiao Qingran walked, a sudden sharp pain behind his knee caused one leg to go limp, instantly throwing off his balance and sending him stumbling forward as if he were about to take a tumble.
Fortunately, his cultivation saved him from a complete loss of dignity.
Flames of anger condensed in his gaze as he spun around to glare, wanting to see who dared to be so insolent.
Instead, he saw Xiao Shuying standing there with his arms crossed, hissing in pain. That sight instantly dissipated his anger; feeling immensely gratified, he decided not to bicker over the mysterious pebble incident.
After Xiao Qingran turned and left, Xiao Shuying lowered his arms, his eyes pitch-black and gloomy.
Bullying the weak with strength, a fine skill indeed. But who is strong and who is weak is never eternal.
Returning to the Misty Peak covered in injuries, Xiao Shuying was about to search for some medicinal pills to patch himself up when he pushed open the door to the disciples’ quarters and found Su Yunyu still sitting inside.
He was resting with one hand supporting his chin and his eyes closed. The strands of hair falling across his face partially concealed his exquisite features, and his thin lips were pressed tightly together into a faint, pale line, strangely recalling the day he had lifted the red silk veil.
A subtle, damp mist seemed to drift into the air, making Xiao Shuying feel thoroughly unstrung. He slammed the door shut with a heavy crash.
The violent creak of the door naturally startled Su Yunyu awake. He quickly opened his eyes, the pair of orbs that had just been closed now filled with a wisp of lingering mist and a hint of bewilderment.
Xiao Shuying stood there without a shred of guilt, deliberately displaying the wound on his arm before resorting to his old trick with a timid, pitiful gaze:
“Master, I, did I disturb you?”
“It’s nothing,” Su Yunyu hadn’t been sleeping at all; he had simply been watching Tom and Jerry played by the system, and being interrupted didn’t bother him in the least.
Standing up, he was about to speak when he caught sight of the wound on Xiao Shuying’s arm. His expression immediately darkened as he strode over, asking in a deep voice:
“What happened here?”
“It’s nothing…” Xiao Shuying tried to cover up the wound, but naturally, the more he tried to hide it, the more exposed it became. Consequently, he watched as Su Yunyu’s expression grew steadily gloomier.
Acting the part quite convincingly, he thought. It seems the two of them truly deserve each other as master and disciple.
Su Yunyu immediately grasped his wrist, first murmuring inwardly about how terribly thin he was and how he needed to feed him more in the future, before expertly channeling spiritual energy into him.
His cultivation was the highest in the world, and his spiritual energy was naturally unimaginably pure.
Using such spiritual energy elsewhere was one thing, but squandering it to heal Xiao Shuying’s trivial wounds amounted to extravagant waste.
The first time he had used jade marrow to heal him was to build favor.
Right now, however, Su Yunyu simply wanted to take the path of least resistance, and channeling spiritual energy happened to be the easiest way.
If Wenren Li were present right now, his heart would undoubtedly ache beyond endurance.
In truth, it wasn’t just Wenren Li; every single time Su Yunyu channeled spiritual energy, Xiao Shuying’s heart ached just as much.
He had lost count of how many times he had thought: If only my meridians were intact right now, Su Yunyu’s spiritual energy would serve as the ultimate nourishment.
What a pity, what a colossal pity.
Before long, the wounds on Xiao Shuying’s body had completely healed.
Su Yunyu lowered his gaze in thought, released his wrist, and said:
“Today I shall teach you swordsmanship. Study it well so you won’t need to end up covered in injuries like this again.”
With a wave of his hand, light and shadow rippled, and spiritual energy surged violently. Then, a sword as pure and white as snow and jade, radiating a chilling, icy glare, materialized out of thin air.
This was the Xuehua Sword, a supreme heavenly-grade spiritual artifact, peerless in the world.
Anyone else laying eyes upon it would undoubtedly feel a deep sense of yearning.
Yet when Xiao Shuying saw it, he was reminded of his previous life, when this very person had slipped and accidentally stabbed himself to death with his own sword…
It was entirely too absurd, too utterly comical.
As though the Will of Heaven didn’t exist at all, a person could actually manage to get skewered to death by a sword that had already recognized them as master.
He could hardly be blamed for suspecting that the Will of Heaven simply disliked Su Yunyu.
Had it been literally anyone else, they wouldn’t have died in such a bizarre manner.
Therefore, Xiao Shuying deliberately looked away, terrified that if he kept staring, he wouldn’t be able to suppress his laughter.
While his unnatural expression was evident, Su Yunyu felt even more unnatural.
Heaven knew how great a psychological hurdle he had overcome just to face this sword again.
While the sword was undeniably beautiful and powerful, it was the exact instrument that had impaled him to death in his past life.
Seemingly sensing its master’s awe and trepidation, the sword spirit of the Xuehua Sword conveyed a cautious, apologetic sentiment toward Su Yunyu.
Feeling this, Su Yunyu pressed his lips together and thought: Never mind; when all is said and done, it was the Dragon-Heaven protagonist’s fault anyway.
Having talked himself through it, he stepped outside, turned around, and called out to Xiao Shuying:
“Come here and watch my sword.”
Willows framed the pavilions, and smoke drifted over the misty tiers.
Su Yunyu merely stood there for a single breath, his immortal robes fluttering abruptly.
He drew his sword from its scabbard, the cold glare biting and sharp. The next moment, with a flick of his sleeve and a lift of the blade, his white robes danced in the wind. Everywhere the eye could see was a flurry of sword-flower phantoms, their shadows breathtaking as a startled swan.
The moon cast its cold reflection on the river; the dragon swam through winding pools.
His sword qi was overwhelming, and its ringing was as sonorous as the primordial birth of the Great Dao, stirring up a gale that swept violently across the misty fog.
Right up to the final movement of the sword qi—unlike other sword techniques that converged back to simplicity upon completion—Su Yunyu’s sword stroke remained razor-sharp and transcendent even at the end.
Yet it was as effortless as an immortal stepping across water without leaving a trace, leaving behind no lingering scent. Amidst the blurring phantoms, Xiao Shuying only felt the fierce rush of sword wind until a blade struck straight toward his face—
His pupils contracted sharply, yet for some reason, he did not dodge.
Perhaps his mind and spirit had already completely merged into the sword qi.
And after pointing his sword directly between Xiao Shuying’s brows, Su Yunyu withdrew the blade.
Looking at the somewhat stunned Xiao Shuying, and feeling satisfied that his sword intent had played out with absolute perfection, he couldn’t entirely conceal his emotions, curving his lips into a smile. Though the smile remained cool and detached, it looked like melting snow at the onset of winter:
“Frost and moon shining together, how is it?”
Facing the majestic azure empyrean and distant, icy light of the Misty Peak, the smile he displayed was fleeting as an epiphyllum, yet shockingly beautiful.
Especially the way he rapidly re-imposed his cold indifference after the smile, carrying a distinctive, captivating flavor.
Xiao Shuying pressed his lips together in silence, lowering his eyes to ponder for a moment.
Outwardly, he wore an expression of yearning, while inwardly, he harbored mockery.
Not how it is at all, barely better than the previous life.
Its only merits were that he hadn’t slipped, and that he hadn’t been stabbed to death by his own sword.
Rather than asking him how it was, one should ask the Will of Heaven.
Just how thwarted must one be by the heavens to fail at killing him ninety-nine times over?