Lin Qingyun kept his hand in that posture, holding out the bamboo hat, but He Zhuoming didn’t notice, having already crossed past him to walk ahead—she was hacking and slashing at the plants along the mountain path with her wooden sword, or occasionally tossing the sword back and forth like a sandbag.
She wasn’t practicing swordsmanship at all; she was purely playing with an interesting new toy.
Having walked a long stretch, He Zhuoming hadn’t heard the sound of horse hooves catching up. At this point, she finally looked back in hindsight, only to see Lin Qingyun still standing in place, holding the bamboo hat.
He Zhuoming waved at him: “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and come over—we still have three days to walk! Don’t waste time!”
Lin Qingyun clicked his tongue, expressionlessly slammed the bamboo hat onto the white-spotted horse’s head, and caught up to her in two or three strides.
He didn’t lead the horse by the reins; the white-spotted horse, topped with a bamboo hat that wasn’t exactly a perfect fit for its size, followed silently behind Lin Qingyun.
He Zhuoming walked with a skip in her step, her words brimming with excitement: “Let me tell you, let me tell you! My body feels so light now! If I went to run 800 meters now, I’d definitely break a record!”
Lin Qingyun twitched the corner of his mouth, his smile not reaching his eyes: “Is that so? Then you’re really great.”
He Zhuoming: “I feel like my swordsmanship is better than it was yesterday, too!”
Lin Qingyun: “Really?”
He Zhuoming: “Yes, yes, look, look!”
Right in front of Lin Qingyun, she tossed the sword high—she threw the sword seven or eight meters into the air with ease, and caught it just as easily.
He Zhuoming gripped the wooden sword with both hands, jumped in front of Lin Qingyun, and said happily: “Even like this, I can catch it! Pretty impressive, right?”
Lin Qingyun: “Truly impressive. A puppy catching a frisbee is barely as good.”
He Zhuoming rubbed the back of her head and giggled: “That’s because you’re a good teacher.”
Lin Qingyun: “…”
Given that He Zhuoming was not particularly smart in her speech most of the time, Lin Qingyun needed a few seconds to distinguish whether she was genuinely taking this as a compliment, or returning the favor of his “you are a dog” jab.
During the few seconds he spent in brief reflection, He Zhuoming had already trotted ahead of him again, rushing forward to poke and stab everywhere with her wooden sword.
The wooden sword was bladeless, yet very hard. Wherever her sweep reached, all the flowers and grass bowed low—He Zhuoming had rediscovered a bit of the fun of spring hiking. After wreaking havoc on a few bushes, beating them until they were “scattered flowers and flowing water,” a sense of pride in being a “sword master” spontaneously arose within her.
Suddenly, Lin Qingyun’s voice calling her name came from behind: “Xiao He.”
He Zhuoming stopped in her tracks, turned her head, and looked at him in confusion.
Lin Qingyun stood a few paces behind her and beckoned to her, seeming to have something to say to her—He Zhuoming sheathed her sword and trotted back to him: “What is it?”
Lin Qingyun: “I saw you using the sword just now; you looked quite like a professional. How about I teach you another sword formula?”
He Zhuoming’s eyes lit up at the news, and she nodded like a chicken pecking at rice: “Okay, okay!”
Lin Qingyun didn’t use his own sword; instead, he borrowed He Zhuoming’s wooden sword, reciting the formula for her while demonstrating the sword technique.
This sword technique was for a one-handed sword; there was no need to switch hands during the maneuvers, and it was rough and simple—therefore, Lin Qingyun could walk and play with the sword at the same time without any conflict.
He Zhuoming watched unblinkingly; she only saw the sword in her eyes and only heard the sword formula in her ears. Surprisingly, just like listening to that Qi-guiding formula in the morning, she remembered everything firmly in her mind after listening just once.
By the time Lin Qingyun retracted the sword, before he could open his mouth to ask, He Zhuoming already said with great confidence: “I’ve remembered it all! I’ve remembered both the formula and the sword moves! I’ll perform it for you to see.”
As she spoke, she took the wooden sword and began to move with a swish-swish sound—both Lin Qingyun and the white-spotted horse looked at her.
Whether it was the horse or Lin Qingyun, both felt a hint of surprise because He Zhuoming had actually managed to remember it all; although most of her sword moves were only empty forms and had glaring flaws, as a mortal, being able to replicate six or seven-tenths of it on the first try was truly very smart.
So smart that it didn’t even seem like Xiao He.
Finishing the last move, He Zhuoming proudly spun around, jumped in front of Lin Qingyun, and asked eagerly: “Did I practice it correctly? I remembered that formula in a flash. Did I get even a single word wrong?”
She leaned in very close, so close that Lin Qingyun could feel the scorching, vigorous life force from her body brushing against his face—she had both hands behind her back, her expression was smiling as she asked, and she shook her wooden sword lightly, tapping her own back with the blade.
Lin Qingyun saw his own reflection in her eyes, and suddenly, his back felt a bit numb—he couldn’t help but shove He Zhuoming away.
Completely unprepared, He Zhuoming was pushed seven or eight meters away by him, tumbling into a bush and letting out a miserable cry of “Ouch!”
She scrambled out of the bush in a disheveled state. Her already messy hair had been caught and tugged by the branches, making it poke up in tufts and curl at the ends; her two braids were ruined, and a few leaves were hanging from her hair ribbon.
He Zhuoming complained: “Why did you push me?!”
Lin Qingyun looked down at his own hands, feeling a sense of disbelief and confusion—in that split second just now, the reaction to push He Zhuoming away had been entirely instinctive. By the time he had reacted, He Zhuoming had already been thrown away.
A very strange instinct.
It was just like when a person encounters a block of ice in winter or clutches a bunch of fire in summer; the instinct of self-protection in the body suddenly erupted, making the decision to discard the other person and escape them before he could even think.
He Zhuoming patted her hair, shaking off many leaves. She straightened her clothes and, seeing that they hadn’t been torn by the branches, she breathed a sigh of relief. Looking up, however, she saw that Lin Qingyun was still standing there.
He looked a bit strange; he neither answered her nor smiled as he usually did. The shadows of the trees covered his hair and figure, and his expressionless demeanor made him appear very cold.
He Zhuoming couldn’t help but worry about him, walking over and waving her hand in front of his eyes: “Hey—Qingyun? Qingyun? Are you…”
Lin Qingyun grabbed her waving hand, and when he raised his eyelashes, it was a smiling face once again: “I’m fine. Let’s get going.”
He Zhuoming was stunned, replying a beat slow: “Oh… okay. Are you really okay? You just now…”
Lin Qingyun stubbornly emphasized: “I’m fine.”
After saying that, he released He Zhuoming’s wrist and hurried ahead of her.
He had just checked He Zhuoming’s pulse and confirmed her strength—Xiao He was indeed very weak. Although her body had become slightly stronger after drawing Qi into her body, she was still just a slightly stronger ordinary person.
The difference in strength between them was worlds apart. Lin Qingyun couldn’t understand why, just a moment ago, he had developed such a strong sense of self-protection because of Xiao He.
Since he was born until now, this was the first time he had encountered something he could not understand.
He Zhuoming watched his back as he suddenly walked faster and quickly opened up a distance between them, feeling puzzled.
Lin Qingyun kept walking forward without even caring about the white-spotted horse—although the horse could follow them on its own, He Zhuoming thought for a moment and reached out to grab the reins on the horse’s bridle.
The white-spotted horse was so tall and so big; standing in front of it, He Zhuoming felt her own size was a bit too small. She suddenly felt very insecure, grabbing the reins with one hand and cautiously stroking the horse’s neck with the other.
He Zhuoming: “I’ll pull the reins gently; don’t jump suddenly, okay?”
The white-spotted horse thought to itself, Where would I even have the mood to kick? Didn’t you see that little emperor walking ahead stopped smiling? If he lets his mood ferment any further, he might just grant us both death… Xiao He, oh Xiao He, you really ought to be more careful.
He Zhuoming was hungry.
The sun was scorching, they had walked so many mountain roads, and she still hadn’t eaten breakfast. Now that the excitement of drawing Qi and practicing sword moves had passed, He Zhuoming felt hungrier and hungrier in her stomach.
She quickened her pace, wanting to trot to catch up with Lin Qingyun—she was fast, but Lin Qingyun was also fast. He Zhuoming ran until she was panting, yet she couldn’t catch up with him; the two of them remained separated by an distance of ten or so meters.
He Zhuoming soon became too tired to walk and looked up to see that the distance between her and Lin Qingyun hadn’t narrowed at all; getting angry, she sat straight down on the ground.
She wouldn’t walk, so Lin Qingyun also stopped and looked back at her. The two looked at each other from a distance, and He Zhuoming beckoned to Lin Qingyun, looking at him pitifully.
Lin Qingyun was silent for a moment before finally walking back to He Zhuoming and squatting down: “Why are you lying down? Didn’t you say not to waste time on the road?”
Seeing that he was willing to return, He Zhuoming climbed the pole, leaned back, and fell to the ground. With a sorrowful face and a weak voice, she said: “But I’m so hungry… I didn’t eat breakfast this morning! I’m at the age where I’m growing, how can I not eat breakfast!”
Lin Qingyun reached out and poked He Zhuoming’s head, saying expressionlessly: “Anyway, it’s almost noon. Why not just endure it and eat it with lunch?”
He Zhuoming moved her head to the side and replied weakly: “No, no, no—I have no strength left. I need to eat, or I’m going to faint.”
Lin Qingyun smiled—that smile also looked cold—”Is that so? Then why don’t you faint and show me?”
His tone was somewhat sinister, but He Zhuoming actually closed her eyes, crossed her hands over her chest, and lay there with such serenity that all that was missing was a white sheet covering her body.
He Zhuoming said weakly: “I’ve already fainted.”
Lin Qingyun lowered his eyes, staring at her motionlessly. He Zhuoming simply wouldn’t move; her breathing, which had been somewhat clear, gradually became steady, and it looked as if she were truly about to fall asleep.
He reached out and pinched He Zhuoming’s cheek, giving it a twist—He Zhuoming jumped up yelling “Ow, ow,” and smacked Lin Qingyun’s hand a few times.
Lin Qingyun let go and smiled: “Didn’t you faint?”
He Zhuoming covered her cheek and rubbed it, saying sullenly: “It hurts!”
Lin Qingyun held out his hand to show her, “I didn’t even use force. You’re the one whose slap hurt me more, right?”
There were several overlapping palm prints on the back of his hand from He Zhuoming’s slap.
He Zhuoming stared blankly and muttered to herself: “I was wondering why my hand hurt so much; so it was your hand that was hitting me…”
Lin Qingyun: “…”
Lin Qingyun laughed, rendered speechless.
Even that bit of awkwardness from before dissipated, and looking back on it, it was almost funny. He must have been driven insane recently, or something was wrong with his body; otherwise, how could he have felt that Xiao He was dangerous?
He couldn’t be bothered to deal with Xiao He’s moronic remarks—although those words were offensive, and if it had been someone else speaking to him like this, they would have been killed by him—but Xiao He’s brain was like this anyway, so there was no need to hold it against her.
Thinking this way, Lin Qingyun was about to retract his hand when He Zhuoming suddenly leaned in, lowered her head, and blew a few puffs of air onto the back of his hand.
A moist, light, warm current of air brushed across the back of Lin Qingyun’s hand with a force lighter than any cotton or silk.
For a moment, the skin on the back of his hand felt the heat, while the flesh and bone beneath the skin felt a tingle, as if millions of ants were crawling from the back of his hand to his fingertips.
Lin Qingyun froze until He Zhuoming raised her head and smiled at him: “I’ll blow on it for you. Will it hurt less now?”
Lin Qingyun answered a beat slow: “I—I think it… it hurts less. Your hand…”
He Zhuoming pulled a bitter face and held out her palm to show him: the force was indeed mutual. She had slapped Lin Qingyun’s hand until it was covered in red marks, so her own palm naturally fared no better—it was bright red and slightly swollen.
Lin Qingyun stared at her palm for a moment, then raised his eyes, his gaze flickering up toward He Zhuoming’s face.
He Zhuoming’s face contorted into a very bitter expression: “It hurts super much. My face hurts too. Why did you pinch me so hard?”
Lin Qingyun: “…”
He didn’t quite know how to answer. After a moment of silence, he lowered his head and, mimicking the way He Zhuoming had done just before, blew on her palm.
Lin Qingyun asked in a low voice: “Does this feel better?”
He Zhuoming pinched her own palm and looked at him expectantly: “I think I’ll only feel better after I eat breakfast.”
This time, Lin Qingyun didn’t say anything else, but retrieved clean snacks and steamed buns from his mustard-seed space and handed them to He Zhuoming.
The two sat facing each other, but He Zhuoming was the only one eating the snacks; she swallowed a few pieces and asked Lin Qingyun with her eyes.
Lin Qingyun shook his head lightly: “I’m not hungry. I won’t eat.”
He hadn’t put food in his mustard-seed space for himself to eat anyway. He didn’t get hungry, nor could he taste the flavor of food, so these foods were fundamentally meaningless to him.
Estimating that He Zhuoming would be thirsty after finishing the snacks, Lin Qingyun casually unbuckled his own water skin and placed it by He Zhuoming’s side.
The white-spotted horse suddenly became restless on the spot, its front hooves stepping heavily on the stones and making a sound. He Zhuoming turned her face to see, but her head was pressed down by Lin Qingyun, who turned her head back.
He Zhuoming: “?”
Lin Qingyun: “You eat your food. I’ll go take a look.”
He took advantage of the leverage by pressing on He Zhuoming’s head to stand up. He Zhuoming was pressed so low she couldn’t help but let out an “Urgh.” When Lin Qingyun’s hand moved away, she touched the back of her neck and stared at Lin Qingyun’s back with great resentment.
Why did this person press her head again? It was like he couldn’t understand human speech!
The sound of tree leaves colliding came from above. As Lin Qingyun walked toward the white-spotted horse, he looked up. Just as he tilted his face, a swift and unparalleled black shadow descended from the sky, with extreme precision plunging the blade into his neck!
The strike was unnaturally fast, so fast that it didn’t give anyone a chance to react; it was so fast that before blood sprayed from Lin Qingyun’s neck, it had already swiftly plunged a second blade into his heart.
He Zhuoming was stunned by this sudden change, forgetting even to chew the snack in her mouth—until the black-clad youth holding the blade pushed Lin Qingyun aside, and she watched Lin Qingyun’s body fall limply to the ground.
The white-spotted horse raised its hooves and ran away rapidly. Amidst the sound of hoofbeats, He Zhuoming coughed incessantly; she had been choked by the snack in her mouth.
By the time He Zhuoming finally thumped her chest and managed to swallow the piece of snack in her throat, the black-clad youth’s black long boots had already stopped in front of her, only a few inches from the hand she was using to prop herself up on the ground.
He Zhuoming was afraid he would step on her hand, so she shrank her arm back in fright.
A sluggish, fishy sweetness began to permeate the air. He Zhuoming’s ears were filled with the sound of buzzing of unclear meaning, and she felt a sense of spinning heavens and revolving earth; her stomach spasmed and contracted, making her want to vomit.
A cold blade lightly propped up He Zhuoming’s chin. She was forced to raise her face to look at the unwelcome guest—yet she couldn’t see what the other party looked like at all, only feeling that the blade against her chin was very cold, very slippery, and seemed to be coated with a layer of wet blood, and now that blood was rubbing onto He Zhuoming’s chin.
The black-clad youth leaned over to examine the girl who was crying until she was nearly breathless. The blade moved slightly forward with his movement, pressing into the skin of He Zhuoming’s neck.
He Zhuoming’s blood and the blood of Lin Qingyun on the blade flowed together.
The black-clad youth tilted his head, and a glimmer of emotion finally appeared on his dead-still face.
He asked in a puzzled, self-talking tone: “A mortal?”