Chapter 38

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Chapter 38: Title

"Master, my hand hurts."

"Young bones shouldn’t ache. Keep writing."

Xia Shi rapped knuckles on the table.

Suiyin grimaced at the paper stack towering beside her.

Qin An found them thus at the quiet room.

She’d known Suiyin was copying sect rules here – but not that Elder Wuwei supervised.

"Elder Wuwei." She knocked properly, waiting at the door.

"Enter."

Seeing Qin An approaching, Suiyin scrambled to her feet, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

"You’re so kind to visit me," Suiyin thought gratefully, having mentally thanked Qin An a thousand times for this lazy break opportunity.

Such a good soul.

"Um… Suiyin, I need to talk to you." Qin An glanced warily at Elder Wuwei nearby.

With the elder present, her prepared words stuck in her throat.

Suiyin understood the unspoken plea but shook her head. "I can’t leave this quiet room."

"Your State of Mind is troubled, Qin An." Xia Shi propped her head on her hand, her gaze seemingly fixed on desk scrolls yet missing nothing.

Qin An’s lips quivered. "A nightmare frightened me last night."

Xia Shi finally looked up, studying Qin An with new intensity.

After a long pause, she commanded: "Come here."

Qin An obediently approached and knelt by the desk.

Cool fingertips touched her forehead. A chilling breath flowed into Qin An, unexpectedly soothing her chaotic thoughts into calmness.

Xia Shi now held a wisp of sentient blue smoke that disintegrated upon capture. Curious Suiyin peered closer. "Master, what’s that?"

The fleeting phenomenon left even Xia Shi puzzled. "Qin An, meditate here until my return." She turned sharply to Suiyin. "Get back to copying sect rules. No slacking."

Suiyin: "…"

The jade bell at Xia Shi’s waist chimed softly as she moved through Sanqing Realm. Her past insistence on having Xuanhua install multiple formations now paid off – traversing the realm required minimal spiritual power.

She materialized at Yuxing Hall, silencing bowing disciples with a wave.

"Sect Leader!" Her shout echoed through the hall before she fully entered.

Ye Xiao blinked wearily, then scowled at the intruder. "Shouldn’t you be in Scripture Hall?"

"Temporary leave." Xia Shi’s grave tone cut through formality. "Critical news."

Reading her urgency, Ye Xiao assumed his full authority. "Report."

"Sanqing Realm has been breached."

"Impossible!" His denial came instantly. "My consciousness embedded in the barrier during repairs a century ago would detect any intruder!"

Xia Shi’s eyes glinted coldly. "Unless they bypassed formations entirely."

"Only Xuanchen of Qingyun City possesses such skill among Nine Realms cultivators." Ye Xiao leaned forward. "What evidence?"

"Qin An’s spirit." Xia Shi explained the sinister energy she’d purged. "Not spiritual power – something darker. Had her spirit not destabilized, it might’ve remained hidden."

Even as she spoke, Ye Xiao’s spiritual sense swept the realm.

Nothing.

All appeared perfectly normal.

But since her junior sister insisted, it couldn’t be wrong – that ghostly thing must truly exist.

"I’ll keep alert."

Xia Shi nodded, reassured. "I’ll return now."

She turned to leave, but as her foot crossed the threshold, a voice behind her declared, "Unauthorized departure from the quiet room extends your punishment period by seven days."

Xia Shi spun around, shock written across her face.

Ye Xiao smiled. "Rules are rules."

——

In the quiet room,

Qin An extended her sword with trembling hands, jaw clenched tight around unspoken protests.

Suiyin blinked. "What’s this?"

"It belongs with…"

"Enough." Suiyin pushed the weapon back with jade-smooth fingers, her usual carefree manner replaced by seriousness. "Sword cultivators don’t gift their blades."

Qin An stared at the sword body. "I’m unworthy of such a magic sword."

A warm hand settled on her shoulder. Suiyin’s smile held summer warmth. "Nonsense. You earned Sanqing Realm’s inner sect position through talent and comprehension. This magic sword suits you perfectly – you’d do justice to divine weapons." Her nail pinged against the blade, sending vibrations through cold steel.

Suiyin lowered her gaze, veiling sudden intensity. Aunt Yan’s words echoed – how she’d handled master-bound swords since childhood, spinning destined blades into new patterns.

Born to wield swords.

But such truths could shatter a cultivator’s state of mind, spur reckless gifts. No true sword cultivator abandons their blade.

Unless…

The unspoken exception hung between them: unless the sword breaks.

During Suiyin’s momentary pause, Qin An lifted her head with renewed fire in her gaze.

The younger cultivator trembled with awakening resolve, fingers whitening around the hilt. "Thank you." Remembering Elder Wuwei’s instructions, she dropped into immediate meditation.

Suiyin blinked at the suddenly seated disciple. Who actually meditates when told?

Seizing this chance during Master’s absence, the prodigy folded into mirroring posture – knees touching, palms resting upward.

Eyes shut…

She had fallen asleep.

When Xia Shi returned, she found two figures on the floor. One moved with disciplined precision, spiritual energy swirling around them even as they breathed—every motion part of cultivation. The other kept nodding off, a foolish grin plastered across their face.

Xia Shi strode to the desk, snatched a bamboo scroll, and rapped Suiyin’s head without mercy. A stray thought flickered: disciplining disciples was oddly satisfying. No wonder Master had so often smacked her own head in the past.

Suiyin jerked upright, hands clapped over her skull. “Slacking off?” came Master’s voice from above.

Knowing she’d been caught, Suiyin shuffled to the desk on legs gone numb. Across the room, Qin An opened eyes that gleamed like sunlit streams—vibrant, focused, radiating a newfound determination.

Xia Shi’s brows lifted. Such a shift in state of mind during her brief absence? Her gaze slid between the two. Altering someone’s mindset required both a speaker’s insight and a listener’s latent resolve. That Qin An had responded so profoundly spoke volumes.

“Elder Wuwei.” The girl’s voice rang clear now.

“Which peak claims you, Qin An?”

“Jingyang Peak.”

Ah. Master Fan’s domain. Xia Shi recalled how peak elders oversaw conduct but rarely guided cultivation—except for personal disciples. Most inner disciples received the same generic training, breadth over depth. She’d once argued for specialized instruction, but Master had dismissed the notion. Years later, Senior Sister Ye Xiao clearly upheld the same flawed tradition.

“Visit Scripture Hall every third dawn.” Xia Shi produced a crumbling tome from her storage ring, its pages whispering like autumn leaves. Qin An accepted it reverently, fingers barely grazing the brittle edges.

“Practice this heart method with the Three Thousand Weak Water Sword Style.” Xia Shi’s lips curved. “Three moves may seem meager, but a sword cultivator needs only one perfected strike to carve their legend.”

Qin An’s eyes widened. Actual guidance from Elder Wuwei? The girl bowed deep, gratitude shining brighter than her newfound resolve.

As footsteps faded, a wry murmur drifted from the desk: “How noble our Master is.” Suiyin’s dry tone held both tease and truth.

The words sounded sour and oddly sarcastic.

Xia Shi: “…”

Putting down her pen, Suiyin grew angrier as she stewed, protesting, “I want to learn too!”

“Learn what? Where?” Xia Shi answered flatly, eyeing her. “Tear down the Scripture Hall? Or have the sect leader dismantle us both?”

The barrage of questions silenced Suiyin.

She slumped over the desk, muttering, “Teaching others but not me.”

In the cramped quiet room, both knew exactly whom those words targeted.

Xia Shi suddenly snorted. “Haven’t you mastered Everything Awaits Spring? What’s left to teach?”

Suiyin jolted upright. “Everything Awaits Spring?”

“That final move against Senior Sister Zuo Ji was supposed to be Everything Awaits Spring. But without sword intent in your sword energy, you twisted it into Everything Awaits ‘Winter’.” Xia Shi’s irritation resurfaced. Her elegant sword move had been warped beyond recognition—transformed from intricate artistry into a grim reaper’s killing stroke.

Suiyin hung her head. “Senior Sister Zuo Ji also said I lack sword intent.”

“You’ve never had any?” Xia Shi blinked. She’d assumed Suiyin hid her sword intent out of embarrassment, having never sensed it in the girl’s sword energy.

Sword intent revealed a cultivator’s truest nature—often peculiar. Some concealed theirs deliberately.

But lacking it entirely? Unheard of.

Xia Shi had met those without sword hearts or sword energy, but never a sword cultivator devoid of sword intent. It was as inherent as breathing to those who wielded blades.

“Master,” Suiyin asked, “what is sword intent? Does everyone possess it?”

_Yes. Everyone except you._

Xia Shi stayed silent. Truth would wound, and she’d never encountered this anomaly.

“This master will… investigate.”

_Search for precedents._