In the clearing of the rear courtyard, Gu Yanqing was practicing sword forms from the 《Roaming Cloud Technique》, strike by strike.
Having gained real combat experience from that single strike in the mountains, he had developed a fresh appreciation for the fluidity of the sword forms. Practicing with even greater focus than before, each twist of his wrist sent the blade cutting through the air with a low, resonant hum.
Today, however, was somewhat different from usual.
In his peripheral vision, there was now an extra little thing flitting back and forth.
Palm-sized, pale cyan, and translucent, its golden hair shimmered with fine specks of light under the sun.
Hovering less than three chi to his left, it was pulling all sorts of ridiculous faces at him.
Xiaoyu twisted its features into an exaggerated grimace, stretching its mouth to its ears, eyes bulging wide as copper bells, and using both hands to yank down the corners of its mouth into an atrociously ugly expression.
Having finished, it couldn't hold in its own giggles, tumbling in midair before drifting back to wave its hands in front of his eyes.
“You can't see me, you can't see me~
“Hmph, Zhixue told me not to bother you, but since you can't even see me, how could this count as bothering you?”
It mumbled to itself, its tone full of self-righteous mischief.
With that, it floated up above Gu Yanqing's head, placed its hands on its hips, and declared condescendingly, “Hey, you're the villain who bullied Zhixue, right? Even though Zhixue says you've changed for the better, this artifact spirit isn't so easily fooled.
“If you dare bully her again, I'll—well, whatever, you can't hear me anyway.”
It huffed and floated right in front of Gu Yanqing, crossing its legs as it hung in midair, and began chanting rhythmically, “Idiot, idiot, idiot—”
Gu Yanqing thrust his sword forward, the blade's tip coming to a steady halt half a cun in front of Xiaoyu's face.
His expression remained impassive, as though he had merely happened to thrust in that direction, completely unrelated to this noisy little pest.
He felt he was on the verge of cracking.
Practicing the sword for so many years... no, wait.
In all the days since transmigrating, this was the very first time he had encountered such a situation.
He knew this pest was testing him; back by the moon gate, it had already grown suspicious.
If he showed the slightest sign that he could see it, all his prior pretense before Lin Zhixue would go down the drain.
So he had no choice but to endure it.
Yet having a palm-sized creature making faces and calling you an idiot right in front of you, while you couldn't look at it, couldn't acknowledge it, and couldn't slash it with your sword—this felt far more exhausting than practicing swordplay.
Taking a deep breath, he resumed swinging his blade.
Seeing that he gave no reaction, Xiaoyu grew even bolder.
It floated directly before the tip of the sword, maintaining a palm's distance from the blade.
When Gu Yanqing thrust to the left, it drifted left; when he slashed right, it drifted right.
Dancing right before the edge of the blade, it hummed an unrecognizable tune in sheer amusement.
As the sword's edge drew closer and closer to its body, Gu Yanqing flicked his wrist, the blade's momentum just barely skimming past it.
Startled by the sudden sword qi, Xiaoyu darted backward, but promptly drifted back, hands on its hips as it yelled self-righteously, “Hey! You idiot, can't you watch where you're swinging? What if you hit me?!”
It huffed again after shouting, clearly emboldened by its status as a spiritual entity without a care in the world.
After all, he couldn't hear it, and the sword couldn't touch it anyway—so what was wrong with hurling a few insults?
Gu Yanqing's grip on the hilt tightened slightly.
Sheathing his sword, he turned, walked over to the stone table, poured himself a cup of cold tea, and downed it in one gulp.
This could not continue.
His current progress with Lin Zhixue lagged far behind his rapport with this flitting pest... no, artifact spirit.
He and this artifact spirit were already “acquainted” and had “interacted”—even if that interaction consisted of the little creature unilaterally insulting him while he was forced to play deaf.
But what about Lin Zhixue? Up until today, it was questionable whether their conversations had even totaled twenty sentences.
Every time they met, he assigned chores, she acknowledged them, he handed over spirit stones once she finished, she thanked him, and that was the end of it.
How was this building favorability? This was clearly just an employment contract.
Leaning back against the chair, he closed his eyes in contemplation.
In the original book, Lin Zhixue was the foremost sword cultivator who stood at the summit atop countless corpses, slaying gods and buddhas alike, with no one under heaven capable of making her bow her head.
Yet the current Lin Zhixue stammered even when facing a “villainous lackey” like him.
Her gaze darted away whenever she spoke, and she asked if she could leave after finishing her chores with utmost timidity.
Where did the difference between these two versions lie?
Cultivation was certainly one aspect, but it was not the most critical.
The original Lin Zhixue never doubted that she was worthy of standing at the very pinnacle, whereas the current Lin Zhixue had not even affirmed whether she was worthy of living a decent life.
She had strength, resilience, and the courage to fight desperately at the brink of life and death, but she lacked one thing.
Recognition.
In her seventeen years of life, no one had ever truly recognized her worth.
Her mother had died young, her father neglected her, her stepmother was harsh, her clansmen looked down on her, and her peers treated her as a joke. She had no one to share with even when she found Cold Marrow Grass on the mountain.
The only person who genuinely treated her well, Xiaohe, could offer concern, but not recognition.
She did not know how strong she was, because she had never been given any opportunity to prove it to others.
Opening his eyes, he had a general direction in mind.
However, how to execute it specifically would still require careful planning.
Xiaoyu drifted opposite him, sitting cross-legged in the air above the stone table with one hand propping up its chin. Watching him with an amused look, it teased, “Slacking off already? And here I thought you were so tough~ Do you dare spar a couple rounds with me?”
It struck an opening stance against the empty air across the stone table, throwing a pair of tiny punches with theatrical flair.
Gu Yanqing stood up and walked straight through its body.
Xiaoyu blinked in surprise, shook its fist at his receding figure, and followed after him anyway.
Beside the medicinal field, Lin Zhixue was squatting on the ground pulling weeds.
Hearing footsteps, she looked up, her movements pausing instinctively when she saw Gu Yanqing walking over.
Setting down the half-pulled weed, she stood up and brushed the dirt from her hands, her voice a bit hesitant. “Y-You... why are you here?”
Usually, he only appeared after she finished her work to hand over the spirit stones, after which she could leave.
Today, he had suddenly approached of his own accord, leaving her somewhat bewildered.
“There's a spirit herb dying over in that medicinal field.” Gu Yanqing pointed toward the other end of the courtyard. “Go take a look at it.”
Lin Zhixue looked in the direction he indicated and hesitated. “What... kind of spirit herb is it?”
“Scarlet Leaf Grass.”
Lin Zhixue's expression shifted slightly.
She had heard of that name before. It was a delicate spirit herb with high demands for spiritual energy concentration; planted anywhere the spiritual energy was even slightly sparse, its leaves would begin to wither.
She had read about how to care for it in books, but reading about it was one thing; handling it with her own hands was entirely different.
Wiping her mud-stained hands on her coarse apron, she said with uncertainty, “I've read a bit of the herb classics... but I've never actually handled one before.”
“Give it a try.” His tone was no different from when he usually assigned her chores, holding neither encouragement nor urgency. “It's on the verge of dying anyway. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't matter.”
Lin Zhixue glanced at that patch of the medicinal field again, nodded, and walked in the direction he pointed.
Floating beside Lin Zhixue's shoulder, Xiaoyu wrinkled its nose back at Gu Yanqing, then leaned close to her ear to whisper softly, “Who does he think he is, bossing you around? Don't be afraid of him, Zhixue. If you don't want to do it, just don't! Don't think you have to obey his every whim just because he has a bit of stinking money.
“If something goes wrong, the worst that happens is quitting! It's not like you have to earn his spirit stones anyway.”
Lin Zhixue didn't answer. Walking over to the Scarlet Leaf Grass, she squatted down and gently parted its leaves.
The edges of the leaves had turned scorched-yellow in a ring, and the stems were somewhat limp, but the soil around the roots was still moist, indicating that watering was not the problem.
She lowered her head to sniff the scent near the roots, then touched a bit of soil and rubbed it between her fingertips, frowning slightly.
“It's not an issue with watering,” she murmured softly, as if to herself. “The spiritual energy is too thin. The Spirit Gathering Formation for this medicinal field doesn't reach this corner.”
She inspected the underside of the leaves and checked the color of the stem, confirming there were no traces of pests or blight.
Standing up, she walked over to the other side of the medicinal field, carried over several Spirit Gathering Formation stones, and arranged a smaller array position around the roots of the Scarlet Leaf Grass.
Once the formation stones were in place, she channeled her spiritual energy to activate the array, then gathered a wisp of spiritual energy at her fingertips and gently infused it into the roots of the Scarlet Leaf Grass.
The outermost leaves of the Scarlet Leaf Grass quivered.
In that instant, all the fresh tender leaves unfurled slightly, the scorched-yellow along the edges gradually losing its withered tint and shifting into a pale green.
“It lived,” Lin Zhixue murmured, squatting on the ground as she watched the Scarlet Leaf Grass perk back up.
Floating in midair, Xiaoyu's emerald-green eyes widened into perfect circles.
“Zhixue, you're amazing!”
Completely forgetting what it had said moments before, it circled around Lin Zhixue and the Scarlet Leaf Grass several times before finally coming to rest on her shoulder, lifting its chin with smug pride.
“I knew it! It's just a plant—our Zhixue can handle it with ease!”
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