The night was as dense as ink.
Jiang Tong sat solemnly before the Spring and Autumn Bell. Inside the bell, a young girl was drenched in sweat, tirelessly practicing her swordplay.
Though only two hours had passed in the real world, time within the Spring and Autumn Bell had raced ahead—more than a week had gone by.
Jiang Tong even sensed that, if he wished, he could make time flow even faster.
After some thought, he decided not to do so. If time passed too quickly and the girl’s strength surpassed his own, his help would become far less effective.
And if danger arose, it would be much harder for him to resolve it.
During this week, Gu Xianyu had made remarkable progress.
Her cultivation had risen from the second to the third level of Qi Refinement. With the aid of her Sword Embryo, she had fully mastered the first form of the that Jiang Tong had given her.
The price was two superior-grade spirit stones.
No one disturbed them during this time; it seemed that after that day, everything had settled into a strange calm.
But Gu Xianyu knew that Drunken Immortal Pavilion would not let her off so easily.
All she could do was keep practicing, so as not to let down her elder’s assistance and to survive with her own strength.
Whenever night grew quiet and deep, Gu Xianyu would also talk to the bell, confiding her loneliness.
“Senior, when those people saw me doing fine, they were all so shocked. Especially those three who slandered me—you have no idea how funny their faces looked, hmph.”
“Senior, I can swing my sword much more easily today. Does that mean I’ve become a sword cultivator?”
“If I become strong enough, I’ll make sure to pay back everyone who bullied me!”
“But I’m still so weak…”
“Senior, can someone like me, with mixed spiritual roots, really cultivate?”
“Senior, are you there?”
The bell never responded, yet Gu Xianyu kept talking to it. As she spoke, a smile would sometimes break through.
She was simply too lonely.
Even though the senior was sleeping, she believed he could hear her.
Doing chores, cultivating, practicing swordplay…
Day by day passed, until one day, the rotten wooden door rattled with a loud “bang, bang, bang.”
Gu Xianyu became instantly alert, gripping her sword before she carefully opened the door.
The moment she saw who it was, her slender fingers tightened around the hilt.
“Dong Fan, what are you doing here again?”
The black-robed man’s eyes were shadowed as he glanced coldly around the room, then sneered, “Looks like not only have you recovered, but you’re living quite comfortably.”
Gu Xianyu had bought some simple furniture with the spirit stones Jiang Tong gave her—she’d spent very little, but the room already looked completely renewed.
Even the windy corners of the walls had been patched up.
“So it was you!” The girl couldn’t help but grip her spirit sword tighter, her beautiful eyes glaring angrily. “Unable to act in the open, now you turn to these dirty tricks?”
“Dirty tricks?” The black-robed man laughed. “You must not know the ways of Drunken Immortal Pavilion. Besides, since when is demanding you pay your debts considered dirty?”
“Despicable! Shameless!”
With a crisp sound, her spirit sword left its sheath. Gu Xianyu’s hand trembled slightly as she held it.
Yet Dong Fan showed no sign of panic. The moment he saw the sword, a glint of greed flashed in his eyes.
“A top-grade spirit sword… No wonder you healed so quickly—so you did have a stroke of fortune!”
“Hand over your lucky find, and your debts will be wiped clean!”
He had come to make Gu Xianyu be the lead courtesan again; when persuasion failed, he was ready to use force. But now, he had changed his mind.
This strange reaction only confirmed his suspicion: this useless girl must have gotten her hands on something extraordinary.
The so-called debt of thirty superior-grade spirit stones was an exaggeration. The entirety of Drunken Immortal Pavilion’s assets weren’t worth that much.
Swapping such a worthless debt for a stroke of fortune… Tsk, that would be a huge gain.
“I have no such fortune,” Gu Xianyu flatly denied. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll take action!”
“Take action? Go ahead and try.” Dong Fan didn’t care, smiling coldly. “If you draw your sword in Shangyuan Sect, who knows who will be punished?”
At these words, the girl’s face paled. She gritted her teeth and spat, “So you really are in cahoots with the Hall of Enforcement!”
“And what if I am?” The man’s patience was at its end. “Hand over your lucky find, don’t make me use force.”
In his eyes, what could a second-level Qi Refinement weakling do? He was at the fifth level.
With a connection to an Elder in the Hall of Enforcement, he doubted she’d really dare to fight. He could claim the fortune for himself and leap from vice steward straight to the top of Drunken Immortal Pavilion.
Facing Dong Fan’s predatory gaze, Gu Xianyu bit her lip and didn’t retreat a single step.
She would never hand over her senior!
Her benefactor had shown her great kindness; now he was only a wisp of remnant soul. If he fell into the hands of Drunken Immortal Pavilion, who knew what fate awaited him?
Even if it cost her life today, she would never reveal the bell’s existence.
But… what should she do now?
Cold sweat soaked her back, the places where she had once been whipped seemed to ache again. Imagining the consequences of fighting, a terrible fear swallowed her whole.
Senior, what should I do?
“While he’s still arrogant, cut off one of his arms.”
Jiang Tong’s voice sounded in her mind.
“Remember, strike fast and hard—don’t overthink it.”
“A sword cultivator must charge forward without hesitation!”
S-senior?
The girl’s eyes gradually focused again, as if regaining her backbone.
Her senior’s words were like a heavy hammer, jolting her awake.
A sword cultivator must charge forward without hesitation…
She looked up again—her eyes held no trace of hesitation.
—
“Clang!”
The first form!
“Clang!”
In the courtyard, Jiang Yueliu swept her sword through the air. The sword light was as slender and supple as a willow branch, yet it cleanly sliced through the sturdy wooden stakes.
The white-robed immortal maiden quietly sheathed her sword, a faint melancholy between her willow-shaped brows.
She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Jiang Tong’s words pierced her heart like an arrow, so she could only come to the courtyard to practice swordplay to ease her mind.
There was sword and sword technique beneath the moon, but no longer the remnant soul who once taught her the way.
“A sword cultivator must charge forward without hesitation…?”
Jiang Yueliu murmured as she looked up at Jiang Tong’s room.
Though her master had never shown himself from beginning to end, she often glimpsed a shadow of that remnant soul in Jiang Tong.
The things he said, the tone he used, always carried a faint sense of familiarity.
Especially today’s words—they were exactly the same as those she heard two hundred years ago.
It is said that if a person is reincarnated, they inevitably carry traces of their former life.
She had wondered countless times if Jiang Tong could be her master, simply reborn into this life and returned to her side in a different way.
But she had no proof.
Back inside, Jiang Yueliu looked at the half-finished medicinal decoction on the table, a resolute gleam in her eyes.
She had never told Jiang Tong that she possessed the legendary Frost Soul Jade Body.
The world knew the Frost Soul Jade Body was unmatched in ice and spirit, but few knew of its unique trait.
The final ingredient in the ancient recipe to restore the qi sea and clear the meridians came from the Frost Soul Jade Body itself.
Jiang Yueliu’s slender hands trembled slightly as she loosened her white robe, revealing her fair, delicate back.
The bandages across her chest unwound and fell to the floor, one layer after another. She bit her lip and leaned over the decoction, eyes closing.
A Qi Refinement cultivator’s lifespan was only a hundred years. Jiang Tong was eighteen; eighty years would pass in a blink for her.
No matter the reason,
She would make sure Jiang Tong lived—a long, long life.