Chapter 72

During this period, Qing Zhouxue rarely went to the Main Peak to practice swordsmanship. Instead, she spent her days and nights with Yun Shuchen, practicing sword forms or occasionally sparring a few moves.

Every day, she was bound by vines and broke free through formations. Repeating this process made her increasingly skilled, and now she had gained new insights.

Qing Zhouxue devised a sword technique of her own. Condensing a blade from empty air, she swept it out, and wherever it pointed, solid frost covered the ground, depriving all plants of their ability to regrow and freezing all life.

Yun Shuchen pondered for a moment and felt this move was best suited as an opening strike. An Ice Spiritual Root was more agile in snowy, frosty terrain, and this sword strike would give her complete control over the "terrain advantage."

"A thousand mountains, birds vanished in flight; ten thousand paths, human traces erased."

Qing Zhouxue had yet to reach such a realm, but when she thrust out her frosty sword, mist often rolled like clouds around her, making her seem like an immortal descending to the mortal world.

Flowing Clouds, Drifting Snow.

For ease of reference, and because her master had asked her to write a new sword manual, Qing Zhouxue chose these four characters and noted them on paper.

After six or seven days of effort, she had only grasped this single opening move.

With no one to blaze the path, she had to carve her own way forward, and every step was not easy.

Occasionally, she would notice other moves, but no matter how she arranged them, they wouldn't flow together, or they would easily fall into the patterns of the "Taichu Seven Swords" she had learned, not yet forming a new school of her own.

Yun Shuchen watched her disciple ponder for a long time, until the sword tip drooped and she stared blankly at the old locust tree in the courtyard, not moving for the longest while.

It was like she was facing the tree in self-reflection.

Yun Shuchen lightly tapped her fingertip. A small mountain sparrow made of water flapped its transparent wings and flew over—without any ceremony, it landed on top of her disciple's head and gave a light peck, neither too hard nor too soft.

Only then did Qing Zhouxue snap back to attention. She reached up to brush the bird away, but the little sparrow hopped onto her shoulder, then flew up and kissed her cheek with its damp beak.

Quite mischievous.

"What are you thinking about?" Yun Shuchen raised her hand in a closing gesture, and the water-formed bird instantly dissolved, dripping into the cracks of the ground.

In her other hand, she held a wooden sword. She didn't seem to be practicing anything in particular, but when she saw Yun Shuchen approach, she turned around.

For some reason, her disciple looked at her thoughtfully.

Yun Shuchen felt she was hesitating to speak, so she considerately said, "If you have something to say, just say it."

"Master, do you know swordsmanship?"

"This I cannot help you with," she said with a smile. "Not a bit."

"That's good, then." Qing Zhouxue sighed in relief, which surprised Yun Shuchen. She had thought Qing Zhouxue wanted to ask her for advice in this area, but it wasn't so?

"I've heard that one learns by teaching," Qing Zhouxue said as she walked behind her master. "Would Master be willing to help me with something?"

"What?"

Her disciple had her hold the sword, then steadily supported her wrist. "I don't know how I'm doing myself. Perhaps if I teach someone else once, I might spot what's wrong?"

Now she was turning the tables. Yun Shuchen didn't argue with her on this point; in fact, she found it rather novel. She hummed in acknowledgment. "Alright."

Only when her master took her first step did Qing Zhouxue truly realize she didn't know anything at all—she wasn't hiding any skill. That step shifted gently with no strength at all, and her hand only moved when Qing Zhouxue guided it.

At that moment, the tree shadows danced, and patches of light flickered across the ground like shifting gold dust. Yun Shuchen followed her through several steps, her arm held up the whole time. Qing Zhouxue occasionally let go to observe her.

"Master, your hand..." Qing Zhouxue eyed the gradually trembling sword tip. "Can it stop shaking?"

"My arm is sore."

She frowned and shot her a sideways glare. "Are we done yet?"

Qing Zhouxue had no choice but to continue supporting her wrist while steadying her waist with her other hand, narrating each step's requirements and why they were done that way.

Yun Shuchen didn't think too deeply. She knew her disciple was muttering to herself, not truly trying to teach her.

So she was utterly relaxed, closing her eyes to savor her disciple's voice, which ran like a clear spring over smooth stones, crisp and pleasing to the ear. She didn't need to exert any force at all; Qing'er led her through the motions.

Still, thinking it over, it was rather laughable. Several hundred years ago, she had been forced to learn swordsmanship by her own master and failed; several hundred years later, she was being taught again by her own disciple.

The two were of similar build, and this posture made it look like Qing Zhouxue had her wrapped in an embrace.

One step, one movement.

Yun Shuchen stepped on the shifting gold dust on the ground as a gentle breeze wove their long hair together, only for it to separate again with a spin of the sword form.

"Your waist... needs to be straight," her disciple reminded her quietly.

After a few steps, Yun Shuchen lost all her bones, leaning comfortably against her disciple. Hearing this, she replied lazily, "Straightening up is tiring."

Qing Zhouxue let out a soft sigh. "In front of the Grandmaster back in the day, Master would surely have been punished for this—"

"Mm?"

"...Nothing."

Yun Shuchen tilted her head slightly and gave a subtle smile. "You're overthinking. Though Taichu Sect is a place of immortal cultivation, it still values human connections and courtesy."

Qing Zhouxue was dazed. "What human connections?"

She chuckled lightly. "I'm on very good terms with the woman who holds the power of life and death over the Grandmaster."

"Who is that?"

"My master's wife."

"..."

Yun Shuchen leaned against her for a few more steps, waving the sword, and broke out in a light sweat. It was indeed somewhat tiring, so she complained mildly, "Why is this form so long?"

"Mm?" Her disciple was surprised for a moment. "But we're not even halfway through."

"Still, Master should move around more in daily life; it's good for your health."

She steadied her waist and clasped her forearm. Even through several layers of fabric, she could still feel how soft she was, as if a slightly heavier force could break her.

"I already move quite a lot. I go from Heyi Peak to the Main Peak and back almost every day." Yun Shuchen felt an inexplicable resistance to the idea of physical activity.

"Riding the wind and clouds without your feet touching the ground—how does that count?"

"Casting spells requires raising your hand too."

"That doesn't count either."

"Then what should I do?" Yun Shuchen curved her lips and turned her head to look at her disciple's serious expression. A sly idea formed. "How about you bring your master to practice swordsmanship every day from now on? Treat it as exercise."

"Alright."

She thought about it and answered in earnest.

Unconsciously, the form ended with their final spin and a backward thrust. When they stopped, Qing Zhouxue released her. The faint scent of her master dissipated from her arms, yet she felt a strange emptiness in her heart.

"Have you sorted out your sword technique?" Yun Shuchen asked with a smile.

"Much clearer now." Qing Zhouxue stared down at the sword tip. The awkward places in the swordsmanship were exactly where she couldn't explain herself when teaching, and those still needed improvement—that was clear.

But some other place in her heart was muddled, turned to paste. It was only practicing swordsmanship while holding her master's hand; such behavior also happened occasionally when she directed some of her senior or junior sisters. There was nothing special about it.

When Yun Shuchen asked why that move was so long, Qing Zhouxue suddenly realized how slowly she had been leading her master through the movements.

She seemed reluctant to let her go right away.

*

On the training ground.

Qing Zhouxue held the Qingshuang Sword in her right hand and thrust it out. The other three saw cold energy radiating from her, a blur of an afterimage appearing, and in an instant, the blue-gray bricks were covered in frost. The entire field turned white with snow and ice, and light snow even began to fall.

"Impressive." Ruan Mingzhu stamped on the ground and found the frost dense and solid; she couldn't even break it with the hilt of her saber.

Lin Xunzhen asked curiously, "What move is that?"

"Something I came up with in my spare time." Qing Zhouxue dispersed the afterimage with a wave. "It's just somewhat slow; it takes a long time to gather power before I can cover this small patch of ground."

Ruan Mingzhu said, "True. One slash at a time does land solidly. But I'm not used to relying heavily on techniques... I always feel they're slow and awkward."

The other two girls, who didn't wield weapons, didn't share the sentiment. They exchanged a glance. Bai Su said softly, "Don't you all feel that since the second selection, we've been training on and off without much improvement?"

True.

It seemed that once they'd coordinated to the point of not getting in each other's way, no one spoke up or strove for further excellence.

Lin Xunzhen suggested, "Being inside the mountain, we can't see its true face. Why not seek advice from an elder? Any suggestions would be welcome."

They all remembered that Yun Shichen had come with Qing Zhouxue last time, and all eyes turned to her.

Qing Zhouxue frowned slightly, glanced at the sky, and said, "I'll ask her."

She took a sound transmission jade token from her storage ring, stepped aside, spoke a few words, and quickly put it away.

"Well?" Lin Xunzhen still hoped that Yun Shichen would come.

Qing Zhouxue shook her head. "She's a bit busy right now. She said she'd call Senior Uncle Yue for us. We just wait here."

During that transmission, her master's voice sounded lazy and weary, as if she had been interrupted from an afternoon nap, her tone full of dissatisfaction at being roused from sweet dreams. When it rang in Qing Zhouxue's ear, she felt something tickle the spot near her ear, stroked by that low, gentle voice.

It itched.

"She? She's quite fun!" Ruan Mingzhu's eyes lit up instantly.

Not long after, a graceful figure appeared at the horizon. A stunningly beautiful woman stepped onto the ground and strolled toward them, yawning and complaining, "Heh, that dead woman only cares about her beauty sleep. Doesn't she know others need sleep too?"

Since she was an elder, Qing Zhouxue, Lin Xunzhen, and Bai Su all remained quiet, but Ruan Mingzhu stepped forward, blinked, and smiled, "Senior Uncle Yue, you look so beautiful today."

"Little Ruan has always had good taste."

This pleased her greatly. Her lips curled up, and she swept her gaze over the four girls. "Training hard in such hot weather. Your Senior Uncle Yun insisted on summoning me. If not for a bag of gold—"

"Pah." She frowned slightly. "If not for her sincere pleading, I wouldn't bother with you little rascals. As if I don't have enough disciples on my peak—one more or less makes no difference. But think it over: I still have several volumes of storybooks to write. If I can't write, I can't deliver, and cutting off one's livelihood is like killing one's parents. This truly is—"

The little rascals fell silent.

Among them, the steadier, older little rascal opened her mouth and finally interrupted her. "Senior Uncle Yue, we seem to have hit a bottleneck recently. Could you please advise us?"

"Oh."

She then moved a few steps back. "Fine. Show me how you fight."