Chapter 25

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Chapter 25: Title

After being caught multiple times by the sect leader, Xia Shi began avoiding frequent contact with Suiyin. Following the sect leader’s advice, she’d appear briefly before Suiyin only to vanish like smoke when pursued.

Xia Shi noticed Suiyin seemed determined to corner her. Thankfully, Senior Sister Huaiwen had convinced the sect leader to restrict Suiyin’s teaching to the inner sect.

During another inner sect lecture, three new faces appeared.

Two intense stares immediately caught her attention upon entering. In the corner sat Suiyin, Lu Ciyou, and Yan Li in a row. Suiyin’s face lit up with excitement, while Lu Ciyou beside her glared with undisguised hatred.

Xia Shi pressed her lips together. Lu Ciyou must have recognized her from their bamboo forest encounter.

With a light sigh, she placed her sword on the lectern. The class consisted of new inner disciples training as sword cultivators. Xia Shi decided to lecture about the origins of Nine Realms swordsmanship and major reforms in Sanqing Realm’s sword arts over millennia.

These were stories she’d loved as youth, now retold with natural fluency.

The attractive Elder held her audience rapt, though few absorbed the content. Suiyin stared vacantly, the words entering one ear and fleeing through the other.

"Hmph."

A scornful snort pierced the air.

"Elder," a voice suddenly called, "why not speak of Half-step Sword Immortal Xia Wuwei from Four Hundred Years Ago?"

Front-row disciples turned with disapproving looks. Though the sect leader hadn’t elaborated on Elder Wuwei’s past when announcing her appointment, every inner disciple knew she was the legendary Xia Wuwei – hence their automatic respect.

The "Half-step" prefix carried mocking connotations. Using this title within Sanqing Realm’s halls constituted outright provocation.

A junior disciple stood abruptly. "What’s your meaning, Young Master?"

The Liujin Pavilion’s young master stood out among disciple robes like a blood-red crane. Lu Ciyou disliked looking up at others. Rising to her full height, she retorted, "Did I misspeak? Isn’t Xia Wuwei part of Sanqing Realm?"

Yan Li tugged her sleeve urgently. "We’re still in Sanqing Realm."

Torn between sect loyalty and debt to her savior, Yan Li desperately tried curbing the brewing conflict.

The furious young lady shot her a silencing glare before challenging the figure onstage. "Can’t the Elder answer? Do you lack knowledge or courage?"

"Class dismissed." Xia Shi grabbed her sword and fled.

She raced toward Wentiang Peak, abandoning all thought of remaining lectures. Memories she’d buried came roaring back – heavenly fires licking the sky, thunder tribulations crashing down. Her dying friend’s face, cultivators beating uselessly against the Heavenly Dao’s ascension barrier…

Disciples bowed as she passed, but she didn’t slow to acknowledge them.

The peak loomed close.

A silver gun pierced through the air, sweeping toward her chest.

Xia Shi jerked back, bending at the waist to twist away.

"Xia Wuwei," Lu Ciyou leveled her spear, contempt burning in her gaze. "They claim you’re a once-in-centuries prodigy. Yet a mere Golden Core cultivator caught up to you. Pathetic."

"What do you want?" Xia Shi’s fingers whitened around her sword’s hilt.

She had no desire to clash with Lu Ciyou.

The young lady showed no such restraint. Her eyebrows arched as a taunting smile twisted her lips. "Die by my hand, or kneel and end yourself."

"Thousands of Nine Realms cultivators died during your tribulation! Why do you still breathe?"

Lu Ciyou’s eyes gleamed wetly. The Soaring Dragon Spear quivered in her grip, echoing its master’s fury with a keening whine.

"I—" Xia Shi couldn’t bear those eyes – mirrors of Lu Qingyu’s, who’d burned in the thunder tribulation’s flames.

"No self-execution? Then I’ll claim your wretched life!"

The spear’s dragon-head tip howled. Blistering heat rolled outward like molten tides.

No testing strikes. Only killing intent.

Xia Shi’s form dissolved into mist, reforming paces away.

This evasion enraged Lu Ciyou. Mockery! A sword cultivator refusing to draw steel!

"Draw your blade!"

Jabbing thrusts targeted Xia Shi’s joints – elbows, wrists – forcing defensive moves.

The newly mended Heartless Sword stayed sheathed. Xia Shi blocked spear shafts with her forearm, wincing as divine weapon met flesh.

Her numbed arm hung useless. Coppery blood coated her tongue. The spear’s glinting point kissed her throat.

CLANG!

The collision of steel shrieked like grinding bones.

Lu Ciyou’s grip faltered. Xia Shi blurred backward, untouched.

"Blind fools!" The spear mistress whirled toward the interveners.

Suiyin and A Li stood breathless, Broken Stream hovering between them – no ordinary magic sword, but the divine blade itself.

"Ciyou!" Suiyin pleaded. "This is Sanqing Realm! Harming an elder here brings consequences!"

Yan Li also tried to persuade her, "Miss Suiyin makes sense. Those disciples already went to inform the sect leader and elders. Young Master shouldn’t act again."

Lu Ciyou clenched her teeth, shouting furiously, "You didn’t come! She nearly died moments ago!"

Yan Li’s frown deepened as her voice sharpened. "Had she died, what about you? Do you think Sanqing Realm would spare you?"

Lu Ciyou sneered, dismissing her words. "I’m the young master of Liujin Pavilion. Would Sanqing Realm truly clash with Liujin Pavilion over someone who deserved death?"

"They would!"

A thunderous voice pierced the air, its spiritual force making everyone shudder. The overwhelming pressure from a transformation stage cultivator at the main peak crashed onto Lu Ciyou alone.

The force lessened slightly before impact but still left her lips bleeding. Yan Li also staggered under the pressure. She glanced sideways at Suiyin, only to find the girl completely unaffected, her eyes steadily fixed on Elder Wuwei.

How could anyone remain calm under a transformation stage expert’s pressure? Who exactly was she?

Ye Xiao and Shen Huaiwen arrived instantly. Ye Xiao positioned himself between Xia Shi and Lu Ciyou while Shen Huaiwen checked Xia Shi’s injuries, frowning at her chaotic energy and limp arm.

"Did you forget how to defend yourself?"

Hearing this, Ye Xiao’s gaze turned icy. "Have you forgotten this is Sanqing Realm territory? If my junior sister suffers lasting harm today, you won’t leave here unscathed."

Lu Ciyou coughed blood but stood straight, glaring hatefully at the protected Xia Wuwei. "I only regret not being quicker."

A moment faster, and she’d be dead.

Ye Xiao’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then you’d be dead too!"

"You’re the sect leader representing all of Sanqing Realm. For such a person—"

The unfinished words met abrupt interruption. Though raised with impeccable Sanqing etiquette, Ye Xiao now broke protocol, his composure shattered.

"I know her true nature best! Four Hundred Years Ago, three thousand Sanqing disciples stood ready to defend her against all sects. They still would!" Ye Xiao’s controlled rage vibrated through his words. "You came as a student, yet now attempt murder?"

"Is this proper behavior for a young master?"

"Who wants your hospitality?!" Lu Ciyou signaled A Li with a look. Yan Li hesitated, glancing at her Master’s impassive face before approaching.

"Let’s go!" Lu Ciyou grabbed A Li’s arm, leaning heavily on her. Passing Suiyin, she demanded, "Coming?"

Suiyin stayed silent, brows knitted. When no answer came, Lu Ciyou patted A Li’s hand. "Move."

Ye Xiao didn’t stop them, exhaling roughly before turning to Xia Shi. "Condition?"

"Broken forearm bone," Shen Huaiwen murmured. "Needs recovery time."

Nodding, Ye Xiao issued brief instructions before departing swiftly.

Shen Huaiwen explained on her behalf, "She was presiding over a meeting in the main hall when she heard about your accident and rushed over in a frantic hurry."

Xia Shi clenched through the pain, her lips pale. Each word came with a sharp inhale, "Causing you trouble again."

Shen Huaiwen promptly fed her a pain-relief elixir and prepared to escort her to Autumn Forest Peak.

"Wait."

Xia Shi halted her, turning toward Suiyin who stood frozen nearby.

"Thank you."

She had clearly seen Broken Stream intercept the spear’s tip, but it was Suiyin who had thrown the sword.

Her savior.

Suiyin jolted awake, flustered as she bowed. "Rest well, Elder! Farewell!"

She fled on her wooden sword, the scrap of timber still carrying her airborne.

"What’s with her? Like she lost her soul," Shen Huaiwen wondered aloud.

Xia Shi gave a feeble headshake.

Suiyin had worn that vacant look since arriving.

"Let’s return."

"Mm."

————

Suiyin soared toward her sparring grounds with Qin An, unable to shake a figure from her mind.

A swordsman drilling forms in snowfall, each motion churning flurries. White robes merged with wintry expanse, sword energy swirling relentlessly.

She discarded her wooden blade. Spiritual power coalesced in her palm, materializing a Long Sword.

As the memory’s phantom moved, unfamiliar sword techniques flowed through her limbs with decades-old familiarity. Her body mirrored their motions perfectly, anticipating each transition before it manifested.

Her blade accelerated until steel became a hummingbird’s wingbeat, now a blur to the naked eye.

Eyes shut, she danced with instinct.

"You! How can you—?"

A shocked voice rang out. Suiyin halted mid-form to find Qin An gaping.

"What?"

"That sword technique—how?" Qin An’s mind was in turmoil.

Daily sparring sessions had never yielded her victory. Having just grasped a crucial insight, she’d come to test it—only to witness this revelation.

Late Winter Snow: nine forms crafted by Elder Wuwei in her youth, notoriously intricate.

Suiyin fumbled for words. "Saw someone practice it. Tried copying."

Someone—meaning Elder Wuwei.

So the elder had privately instructed Suiyin in Late Winter Snow after all.

Qin An gripped the wooden sword, all her enthusiasm drained away.

She suddenly remembered that day when Elder Wuwei told her to spar with Suiyin – clearly not meant to instruct her after all.

"Qin An, came to duel?" Suiyin approached to retrieve the fallen wooden sword.

Qin An stared at the weapon in Suiyin’s hand, lowered her eyes, and walked away.

"What’s going on?" Suiyin asked, puzzled.

Shrugging it off, she resumed sword practice as if alone in the courtyard.

Nearby, Qin An watched the movements intently, the Shadow Stone in her palm flickering.