The match was about to begin.
Sheets of water screens floated in the air—layered, encircling the arena. If spectators wanted a specific view, they had to move themselves into position.
Sword cultivator matches were a spectacle no matter who watched them. To outsiders, they were dazzling; to insiders, they were still dazzling. The reason was simple—when sword cultivators fought, it was undeniably beautiful.
There was a reason sword cultivation was the most common path. Nearly eighty percent of ordinary people, before ever stepping onto the path of cultivation, had imagined themselves riding the wind on a flying sword, crossing the lands in a single strike. And since the sword path placed no restrictions on spiritual roots, anyone could learn it.
So countless youths, hearts full of stories and dreams, picked up swords and leapt into the great river of sword cultivation—becoming just another small fish among the vast shoals.
The Sword Sect disciple who had just told Lin Zhengdu this match would be boring was now completely engrossed, watching eagerly and occasionally commenting with companions.
Qinglan glanced at Lin Zhengdu, leaned closer, and whispered, “Senior Sister… do you have business with Senior Brother Xie?”
Lin Zhengdu gently pushed her back and answered in a normal tone, “Just remembered something, so I asked. After all, he was once my patient.”
Qinglan studied her face for a moment, hesitant—but Lin Zhengdu looked perfectly calm, focused on the match. A sudden cheer erupted from the arena, drawing Qinglan’s attention away, her eyes lighting up as she returned to watching the fight.
Only then did Lin Zhengdu quietly sigh in relief.
As for the dazzling swordplay on the water screens—she understood sword cultivators only as people skilled with swords, and had little interest beyond that. No matter how long she watched, she couldn’t see anything particularly meaningful in it.
After enduring half a day, she finally excused herself, claiming her knees were sore, and left the arena alone.
Inside was a roaring crowd; outside, a striking quiet.
Unlike the winding, tranquil beauty of the Medicine Sect—full of rare herbs and nestled among mountains and streams—the Sword Sect was straightforward and austere.
A wide, straight road cut through the spiritual mountain, leading to a grand but simple hall. Tall evergreen pines lined both sides, and beyond them lay smaller sect divisions managed by different elders.
Territories were marked by boundary stones—clear and efficient. There were no teleportation arrays; the only formation was the outer protective barrier, borrowed from the Medicine Sect.
Standing by the roadside, Lin Zhengdu watched a group of young sword cultivators pass by—men and women alike, swords on their backs, sleeves bound tight, trousers tucked into boots. They walked with confidence, eyes bright, moving in formation like disciples of the same master.
She watched their retreating figures for a moment, then began walking slowly along the road.
She carried a faint, unspoken thought—if she could meet sword cultivators here, perhaps she might also run into Xie Guanqi.
But she didn’t expect it.
So when she didn’t see him, she wasn’t disappointed—only a quiet, unsurprised as expected.
The return trip was by flying cloud ferry again.
Lin Zhengdu was, once more, miserably seasick.
Afterward, a strange melancholy crept in—food tasted so good going down, so why did it become something so sour and repulsive when it came back up?
The Spring Equinox Tournament lasted five days.
Lin Zhengdu attended only the first.
After it ended, Qinglan ran over excitedly. “Senior Sister! First place went to a disciple from the Purple Bamboo Grove of the Sword Sect!”
She paced around the worktable, practically glowing. “You really missed out! The champion was so handsome!”
Lin Zhengdu calmly chopped herbs with a cleaver, her voice gentle. “Is that so? What a pity. My seasickness was unbearable—even medicine didn’t help.”
Qinglan sighed dramatically. “It really is! And next year it’ll be a new group competing.”
“They’re so close to us,” Lin Zhengdu said mildly. “You’ll have chances to see them again.”
Qinglan tilted her head, puzzled.
Wasn’t she the one feeling regret? Why was her senior sister comforting her?
Lin Zhengdu, utterly uninterested in the champion, finished her work and rinsed her hands. For a brief moment, she considered casually asking whether Xie Guanqi had returned…
…but she didn’t.
He had said he would bring her another nightmare corpse.
And she believed him.
There would be time.
As March passed, the weather warmed rapidly.
A creeping vine climbed from a skeletal frame of beast bones up along a pale spine, blooming delicate white flowers in the shade. Lin Zhengdu tried feeding it rotten meat—it barely ate any.
Summer came with heat and sudden thunderstorms.
One night, thunder woke her.
Remembering the fragile plants in the courtyard, she quickly put on a water-repelling robe and went to move them.
Just as she finished, a thunderous crash sounded outside—something heavy had fallen.
Heart pounding, she cracked open the door—
—and saw a dragon, coiled in her courtyard.
Her hand slipped. The door flew open.
Rain lashed in as she squinted through the storm—and saw someone standing beside the dragon’s head.
Xie Guanqi.
Dressed as before—plain black clothes, long hair loosely tied, his expression cold and sharp despite his striking features.
She rubbed her eyes.
He was still there.
So was the dragon.
It had even been carefully arranged to avoid crushing her plants.
Grabbing an umbrella, she rushed out and held it over him, voice rising in shock:
“You—what is this? That dragon—wait, it’s dead? Did you find it?!”
“I killed it,” he replied simply.
“…Why would you kill a dragon?!”
He took the umbrella from her, his fingers brushing her hand—warm against her unexpectedly cold skin.
“Let’s go inside first,” he said. “The rain’s heavy… my spiritual energy is running low.”
Inside, water dripped from his clothes onto the floor.
Lin Zhengdu hesitated. “You didn’t… die and turn into a water ghost, right?”
“No.”
She reached up and touched his forehead, then smiled faintly. “Still warm. Good.”
He blinked, caught off guard.
She didn’t seem afraid of him anymore.
Why?
Soon, he produced a radiant white pearl.
It lit the entire room.
Lin Zhengdu squinted. “…Is that a dragon pearl?”
“I checked. It came from the dragon’s throat.”
“…You took my bounty request, didn’t you?”
He nodded.
She stared at the glowing pearl, then said slowly:
“…Have you ever considered that the ‘White Dragon Pearl’… might actually be a plant?”