Chapter 76

When the Sect Leader occasionally came to the Sword Pavilion to watch the juniors practice, his gaze immediately fell upon Qing Zhouxue.

She was indeed dancing with a sword, but in her every move and stance, one could vaguely discern a distracted air, tinged with a hint of worry.

The Sect Leader watched for a long while, then shook his head and halted her. "If every strike fails to reach its mark, it will become a bad habit. Better not to practice at all. Go rest."

Qing Zhouxue snapped back to reality—she had been lost in thought and hadn't even noticed the Sect Leader's arrival.

"...Yes."

With that, she sheathed her sword and found a quiet spot to sit, still wearing a pensive expression.

Usually, her face betrayed little emotion, so it couldn't hide anything. When something weighed on her mind, it was plain to see.

"Is something troubling you lately?" The Sect Leader felt the girl seemed off—like yellowed grass after autumn, utterly listless.

Qing Zhouxue shook her head, simply saying, "This disciple didn't sleep well last night."

A nearby junior disciple muttered under his breath, "She hasn't slept well for a whole week now."

Hearing this, the Sect Leader frowned and sighed. "Come with me."

She followed him into the main hall. The Sect Leader, without any air of seniority, handed her a cup of tea. Qing Zhouxue took it, thanked him, and fell silent again.

"Is there some discord between you and your master lately?"

At the mention of Yun Shuchen, a subtle flicker passed through Qing Zhouxue's eyes—so faint it was almost imperceptible. The Sect Leader noticed and inwardly sighed. "If you won't speak, I can't see what's wrong. Perhaps—"

"What could a lonely old sword cultivator and another lonely young sword cultivator possibly gain from heart-to-heart talk?" A laugh came from outside the door. Qing Zhouxue turned to see Elder Yue entering with curved brows, stepping inside and lowering the hand that covered her mouth.

The Sect Leader stepped back, his expression turning sour. "Why are you here? If you're here to draw next month's salary, I advise you not to bother."

"Brother, your heart is still too narrow—not at all like someone who's weathered storms."

Elder Yue shot him a sideways glance. "Do you think I'd only take a month?"

"I want the entire next year's worth~"

She spread her palm before the Sect Leader and wagged it.

"A whole year?" The Sect Leader's face was expressionless. "Why not just go down the mountain and rob someone?"

As soon as those words left his mouth, he regretted them. Yue Changge clapped her hands together, whipped out a handkerchief from somewhere, dabbed at tears that weren't there, and wailed sorrowfully, "This junior sister is kind-hearted and can't bear to harm the common folk, so I can't rob anyone else. I'll have to drug the Sect Leader in the middle of the night, tie you up, and sell you as a male courtesan, smashing Taichu Sect's number-one golden signboard!"

"..." The Sect Leader looked at her as if she were the filthiest thing under heaven.

Seeing him unmoved, she tossed the handkerchief aside and closed in a step. "Old Sect Leader, as they say, barefoot folks don't fear the shoe-wearing—your sister here is at the end of her rope. I'd burn, kill, rob, and do anything to get by!"

Qing Zhouxue's shoulder twitched as the cornered Yue Shishu grabbed her and with a swift hand-chop, placed it horizontally against her neck.

Yue Changge clicked her tongue, patted Qing Zhouxue's cheek, and feigned pity. "Brother Sect Leader, if you keep dawdling, your promising junior niece, the future hope of the Sword Sect, will soon meet an untimely end. Truly, heaven has no eyes!"

Qing Zhouxue heard another voice transmission in her mind—Yue Shishu's voice. "Hmm? Can't you at least squeak?"

So Qing Zhouxue said calmly, "Help!"

The ever-refined Sect Leader felt a mouthful of old blood surge in his chest, but he fished out a heavy pouch and hurled it toward Yue Changge. "Take this and get as far away as you can!"

Outside the hall, a few little girls peeked in, saw their master let go, then turned and gracefully caught the pouch, her slender fingers hooking the cord and swinging it a few times, her entire being suddenly radiant.

They burst into cheers, high-fived each other, scurried over to Yue Changge, and whispered, "Master, we want treats."

The Sect Leader's face darkened as he inwardly lamented the misfortune of his sect, pretending not to hear. Yue Changge tucked away the money pouch, beaming like spring breeze, ruffled the little buns' heads, and was about to leave in style.

But she heard her senior brother call from behind, "Hold on."

"This child has been troubled these days. Since you're so fond of amusement, take her out for a spin."

"Oh?" Yue Changge halted, and since she had just swindled the Sect Leader, it was hard to refuse now.

So she glanced at the utterly unruffled Qing Shizhi and smiled. "Is it some maidenly concern?"

Maidenly concerns, perhaps, needed a woman to resolve.

But loneliness was even harder to resolve.

These past few days, Yun Shuchen felt the peak was quiet—wind through the treetops, birds chirping—and apart from that, no human voice.

Perhaps it was because her disciple hadn't come to speak a single word to her these days, like a stone sunk into water, falling silently.

Back when they didn't share a room, their interactions had been just as sparse—perhaps they wouldn't see each other for months.

Because their paths in life were simply different. It made Yun Shuchen feel as though she had returned to the time when Qing'er was small, before they had grown so close.

She sat alone in the pavilion, idle today, unable to sleep. So she found a spot, spread out rice paper, and took up a brush to paint.

A few layers of ink, and the distant mountains were already clear. With a bit of negative space, the surrounding clouds and mist seemed real.

Now that it was early summer, wildflowers bloomed everywhere. With so many colors, a painting could easily become brilliant.

But Yun Shuchen didn't like such a riot of colors. She preferred the pure, unadorned white of deep winter.

It was precisely for that reason that, despite her frail constitution that couldn't withstand cold, she had made her home on Heyi Peak, where rain and snow were plentiful.

She was merely passing the time, not caring what she painted, letting her heart guide the brush. After painting the heavens, earth, and mountains, she found the scene a bit lonely and added a woman.

She hadn't intended to paint Qing Zhouxue, but the more she painted, the more it resembled her—as if once the brush moved, memories came rushing out unbidden.

In the end, she had no choice but to carefully recall her disciple's brows, eyes, and figure, sketching the rough outline of a sword dance.

Falling snow swirled around the tip of the sword. Following the blade, the figure was elegant, otherworldly, standing alone between heaven and earth—like a crane that had become a spirit, taking flight.

In a few more years, once truly matured...

Yun Shuchen's brush tip unknowingly dripped ink.

What grace would she possess then?

Yet as she thought this, she felt not elation, nor exactly sorrow—like a pot of condiments overturned, boiling into a thick, sticky porridge that left a complex aftertaste.

Suddenly, the heavy scent of alcohol wafted from behind. Yun Shuchen set down her brush and turned, only to freeze.

Yue Changge approached from not far away, a figure in white draped over her shoulder. She was struggling to prop up the drunken person, pushing her toward Yun Shuchen. "Come quick, take this girl."

Yun Shuchen's expression turned cold. She raised a hand and formed a seal; water coalesced into threads, weaving into a dense net that completely enveloped Qing Zhouxue and drew her back to Yun Shuchen's side.

She reached out and touched her disciple's face, finding it scorching hot, already unconscious from drink.

"Yue Changge."

She said coolly, "What do you mean by getting my disciple this drunk?"

"I intended to use this wine to loosen her tongue, but who knew she'd collapse after a sip—truly no fun."

"Did you not know your little disciple has been absent-minded for days?" Yue Changge stared into Yun Shuchen's eyes. Yun Shuchen glanced at her, then lowered her gaze to the slumbering Qing Zhouxue.

"Even that old fossil of a Sect Leader saw something was wrong."

With a sly smile, she turned and walked away with hands behind her back, letting out a long sigh. "No matter how good Yue Shishu or the Sect Leader are to her, it can't compare to a few kind words from her own master—she's all yours now."

Yun Shuchen shot her a glance but said nothing. Her spiritual power retracted unnoticed, and the water droplets seeped into the cracks of the ground. Qing Zhouxue's body then slumped softly against her.

After Yue Changge left,

Yun Shuchen looked at Qing Zhouxue's peaceful sleeping face, stood still for a long moment, then suddenly smiled faintly.

"Qing'er always... manages to upset me without meaning to." She brushed the hair by her temple and sighed softly, more to herself. "But when I think it over, it really isn't your fault."

Her hand slid down and pinched her cheek—the texture was quite pleasant. After kneading it for a while, she lifted her up a bit and slowly wrapped her arms tightly around her waist.

It had been a long time since she'd embraced her like this.

Once she had Qing'er fully in her arms, some ineffable emptiness inside her was suddenly filled.

"Master... what are you saying?"

A murmur came from her ear. Yun Shuchen snapped back, loosened her grip, and looked down. "When did you wake?"

Qing Zhouxue stirred, turned her head away, and squinted, trying to stand. Yue Changge's aged brew was indeed potent—after a few cups, she felt the ground was in the sky and the sky underground, her legs nowhere to be found, as light and unmoored as a ghost.

Yun Shuchen also stood, steadying the stumbling figure, and said helplessly, "Drunk like this, where do you think you're going alone?"

The girl's ice-like face was flushed crimson. She rubbed her temples, clearly with a splitting headache, gave Yun Shuchen a fleeting glance, then pointed behind her. "Bath... bath."

"It's not advisable to bathe after drinking."

Yun Shuchen pressed her thumb to her index finger, turned her wrist slightly, and attempted to dispel the reek of alcohol with a spell, but Qing Zhouxue refused to yield, stumbling on soft steps toward the bathhouse.

She was quite exasperated. "Are you really going?"

In response, her disciple took a few drunken but remarkably determined steps onward.

Yun Shuchen felt this was different from that other time—she had been drunk then too, but quiet and obedient, going wherever she was guided, doing whatever her master said, nothing like this unruly display now.

Supported by Yun Shuchen, Qing Zhouxue walked with half-closed eyes and soon sensed the moist, warm steam.

Only then did she relax. She fumbled at her waist for a long while, finally finding the sash, and with a hint of drunken boldness, yanked it completely open.

I declare: this time, it's effective drunkenness.