Gu Yanqing unwrapped the herb bundles Lin Zhixue had brought back from the Medicine Hall and inspected them one by one.
Bone Tempering Flower, Red Blood Vine, Dark Figwort—they were all of fine quality and sufficiently matured.
Each medicinal herb was tightly wrapped, their cut surfaces still glistening with fresh sap.
Measuring out the herbs in their proper proportions, he tossed them into the small pool in the inner courtyard that was fed by a mountain spring.
Heating formation runes were carved into the pool's floor, and before long, the water began bubbling with rising steam, gradually taking on a dark red hue.
Stripping off his outer robe, he stepped inside. The scorching medicinal potency immediately burrowed into his pores.
It hurt, but far less than the previous few times. Instead of the urge to curse from excruciating agony, it was merely a dull ache—like having hot towels pressed against his bones and sinews, slowly kneading them.
His wounds had likely not fully healed yet, diluting his perception of pain.
The gashes left by the ice fiends on his arms felt itchy and numb in the hot water, counterbalancing the ache of body tempering and making it considerably easier to bear.
Leaning against the edge of the pool, he closed his eyes and circulated the 《Nine Revolutions Body Tempering Technique》. Spiritual energy wrapped around the medicinal strength, seeping into his bones, flesh, and skin. He could feel his muscle fibers tearing apart and repairing strand by strand, growing stronger with every breath.
He cracked his eyes open slightly. Was there some light at the bottom of the water?
The light was faint, wavering through the water as it slowly rose from the dark red medicinal broth at the bottom of the pool.
Then, an upside-down little face emerged from beneath the surface. Long golden hair fanned out in the water like seaweed, its emerald eyes reflecting the dark red of the pool as it blinked at him.
Gu Yanqing's eyelid twitched.
When did it sneak in?
Xiaoyu floated out of the water, hovering right before him.
It drifted upside down, its face pointing straight downward to meet his eye to eye, and blinked again.
Gu Yanqing maintained a blank expression, letting his gaze pass straight through its translucent spirit body to the wall beyond as he continued circulating his technique.
“Act. Keep acting.”
Xiaoyu flipped upright, crossing its legs in midair while resting its chin on its hands to stare at him.
“I saw your eye twitch!”
“Stop putting on a front! Yesterday at the bottom of the valley you were running faster than a rabbit, and today you've turned back into a wooden block?”
Eyes shut, Gu Yanqing kept his breathing steady.
Xiaoyu snorted, drifting right up to his ear to peer inside.
“Whoa, look at that giant ball of earwax! Gu Yanqing, you need to clean your ears! Zhixue was so close to you yesterday—did she not notice, or was she just too embarrassed to say anything?”
“?”
Gu Yanqing kept cycling his technique.
The spiritual energy in the medicinal liquid traveled through his meridians for a full circulation cycle, steadily advancing his body tempering.
He had no idea how this artifact spirit could utter such preposterous nonsense, but his facial muscles remained firmly locked in place without the slightest twitch.
Xiaoyu circled around him twice, then suddenly floated behind his head and gave his hair a gentle tug.
But in that split second, its fingertips made contact with a strand.
The strand shifted, nudged aside ever so slightly.
Its entire spiritual form froze in midair.
Gu Yanqing felt it too.
Xiaoyu stared down at its translucent fingers in bewilderment, then reached out to tug his hair again.
This time, its fingers passed straight through, meeting nothing.
It tried again, only for its fingers to pass right through once more.
Furrowing its brow, it looked at its fingers, then at the back of his head, falling silent as it hovered in midair.
Just now, it had truly touched something physical. Even if it was merely a single hair, even if only for a fleeting instant, it had made physical contact.
Gu Yanqing kept his eyes closed and did not look back. As far as he remembered, this had never happened in the original story.
In the original novel, the artifact spirit had remained in an incorporeal spirit form from beginning to end, incapable of touching anything until the female lead reached Soul Formation, at which point it could briefly solidify.
Yet Lin Zhixue was currently only at Great Perfection of Qi Refining, and it could already touch physical objects?
No matter how one looked at it, the plot had drifted off course once again.
Hovering above his head, Xiaoyu looked down at its fingers, its voice suddenly growing a few notches quieter.
“I really touched it just now... Could it be that because Zhixue got stronger, I'm reaping the benefits too?”
It reached out to swipe at Gu Yanqing's hair again, but its fingers passed through without any resistance.
Tilting its head in thought, it drifted to the other side of the pool, studying its reflection in the water. From time to time, it poked at the surface, watching its fingertip pass right through without stirring a single ripple.
Whether that contact had been genuine progress or just a stroke of dumb luck, even it could not say for sure.
Gu Yanqing opened his eyes, glanced at its back, and closed them again.
...
Lin Zhixue stood in a corner of the sect's training grounds, the Guilan Sword drawn from its scabbard.
The training grounds were built on a terrace halfway up a secondary peak, surrounded by stone pillars carved with protective formation runes, the ground paved with bluestone polished smooth by countless disciples.
A scattering of outer disciples stood across the grounds, practicing their swordsmanship against wooden dummies or stone targets.
Finding an open spot near the edge, she took a deep breath, raised her sword, and struck.
Back in Canglan City, she could only drill the most fundamental movements repeatedly, carving the sword forms into her bones through thousands of daily repetitions.
But this time was different.
With this strike, her spiritual energy no longer dispersed the moment it left the edge. Instead, it extended forward along the blade of the Guilan Sword, a water-blue sword glow coating the edge like a flowing film of water.
As the sword struck, water light followed.
The spiritual energy held together without dissipating, far more supple and controlled in release and retrieval than before.
She glanced down at the blade, where the water-patterned spiritual glow quietly rippled.
With Xiaoyu away, her mind was exceptionally clear.
In the past, sword practice had been about her body memorizing the movements; now, the sword was teaching her.
With every strike, the Guilan Sword gave a subtle tremor, as if correcting her angle and force.
She attempted three consecutive strikes, each faster than the last. The water-blue sword glow traced three seamless arcs through the air, and before the afterimages could fade, she had already sheathed her blade.
Once sword intent entered the body, the sword ceased to be a mere tool—it became an extension of oneself.
Movements she could never perform before were now within her reach.
Sword stances whose essence had once eluded her were now clear to her understanding.
“That sword looks to be of no low grade. Did you just get it yesterday?”
Lin Zhixue turned her head.
Jiang Yinglan had appeared at the edge of the training grounds at some unknown point, carrying a scabbard in hand, seemingly having come to practice her sword as well.
Leaning her scabbard against a stone pillar, she walked over to Lin Zhixue, her gaze settling on the water-patterned blade of the Guilan Sword.
“Mm.”
Jiang Yinglan extended a hand, and Lin Zhixue passed the sword over.
Turning the hilt in her grip, Jiang Yinglan examined it closely in the light before raising her arm and delivering a slash into empty air.
The edge cut through the air with a crisp hum, a layer of water light rippling across the blade as though flowing stream water had solidified into a weapon.
She nodded and handed the sword back to Lin Zhixue.
“The blade's foundation hasn't suffered the slightest damage; it's remarkably well preserved.”
“To pick up a weapon of this grade while out on a mission—your luck is almost too good.”
“Before, I thought your knack for gathering spirit herbs was just a fluke, but now it seems you're naturally prone to stumbling upon treasures.”
She looked at Lin Zhixue, stopping mid-sentence.
“Wait, you only got this sword yesterday, and you've already absorbed the sword intent today? How long have you been practicing the sword?”
“I practiced on my own for a while back in my hometown. No proper master.”
“No sword manuals, no master, just blindly fumbling around in a courtyard on your own?”
“Pretty much.”
Jiang Yinglan fell silent for several breaths.
“Never mind, forget I asked.”
Stepping back a few paces, she crossed her arms, leaned against a stone pillar, and tipped her chin toward Lin Zhixue.
“Run through another routine. Let me see.”
Lin Zhixue unsheathed her sword and began from the very beginning.
She still practiced the same basic movements she had honed day after day back in Canglan City.
Every stance was unadorned and straightforward, yet each strike carried a water-blue sword glow, her spiritual energy condensed and unyielding.
Jiang Yinglan stood quietly to the side watching her practice, calling a halt twice along the way.
Once, she reached out to correct the tilt of Lin Zhixue's wrist as she struck.
The other time, she offered guidance on the rhythm of her breath control the instant she sheathed the blade.
She had always spoken with concise precision; if an issue could be clarified in a single sentence, she would never waste a second breath. Yet every piece of advice struck straight at the very points Lin Zhixue found hardest to smooth out.
Toward the end of her practice, several nearby outer disciples paused their own training, casting covert glances in their direction.
...
Come evening, Lin Zhixue pushed open the gate to Gu Yanqing's courtyard.
Having just emerged from the medicinal pool, he was dressed in fresh, clean clothes, his damp hair resting over his shoulders as he sat by the edge of the bed slowly rotating his wrists.
The thick bandages from yesterday had been unwrapped, replaced by fresh, light gauze.
After enduring eight rounds of body tempering, his natural healing capacity had improved considerably. Coupled with the fact that today's medicinal bath was far more potent than usual, his wounded body had absorbed the medicinal effects even more readily.
This single soak was worth two ordinary sessions, leaving his bones, sinews, and flesh substantially firmer.
Aside from a faint itching at the wounds, his overall vitality looked mostly restored.
Lin Zhixue placed the herbs she had brought back from the Medicine Hall on the table.
Once everything was neatly arranged, she pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning the Guilan Sword against the chair leg before casually pouring herself a cup of plain water.
“Thank you,” Gu Yanqing said first.
“No need.”
Silence fell over the room, yet without the slightest hint of awkwardness.
Both tended to their own tasks—he gently rotated his injured wrists, while she idly sorted the scattered herb bundles.
The evening breeze drifted across the windowsill carrying the cool chill of the ginkgo tree outside. One half of the room caught the gentle evening draft, while the corner retained the faint, warm vapor of medicinal herbs.
“Did you practice your sword today?”
“Mm.”
“How was it?”
Lin Zhixue pondered for a moment. “Faster than yesterday.”
“I see.”
“That's good.”
Lin Zhixue glanced sideways at him.
He sat leisurely at the edge of the bed, leafing through an old cultivation manual.
For reasons she couldn't explain, she found the atmosphere right now exceptionally comforting.
Free of upheaval and drama, the tranquil calm brought an unexpected sense of peace.
Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened. Branches swayed gently in the breeze, brushing against the window frame and softly dropping leaves onto the stone steps outside the door.
Holding her cup, she lowered her head and took a sip of warm water.
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