Xuānyuán Dié
led Xiǎo Chén to Headmaster Gǔ Líng's residence.
Morning light was clear.
Green stone path lined with bamboo.
Wind whispered through the leaves.
The residence reflected its master—
Unadorned, natural, calm.
—
At the wooden door,
Two familiar figures already waited.
Xuán Chén and Shī Tóngbǎi.
—
"Senior brother, are your wounds alright?"
Shī Tóngbǎi rushed forward, concern plain.
Xiǎo Chén nodded slightly.
He met Xuán Chén's gaze.
Silent understanding passed between them.
—
"You two were summoned as well?"
Xuānyuán Dié asked casually,
While checking Xiǎo Chén's state.
—
Xuán Chén answered softly—
"The Headmaster wishes to question us.
About last night."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi nodded—
"Likely to prevent misunderstanding.
To hear our account first."
—
After announcement,
The four entered the Headmaster's chamber.
—
The room was as its master—
Simple, quiet.
Bookshelves, desk, bamboo chairs.
No ornament.
Wood warm to the touch.
At the front,
An ancient desk.
Upon it, a bronze sword.
Its edge old, yet still sharp within.
—
Several elders already seated.
Faces grave, or cold.
As Xiǎo Chén stepped in,
He felt their gazes.
Especially one man in silver-trimmed robes.
Eyes holding faint hostility.
—
Xuānyuán Dié spoke not.
She stood behind Gǔ Líng, solemn.
—
"Last night's matter is no small thing."
An elder began.
"If any of you know, speak plainly."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi bowed respectfully—
"Elders, Xiǎo Chén shows no abnormality in daily life.
That night, he was wounded and unconscious.
His aura's fluctuation was accidental…"
—
Xuán Chén spoke calmly—
"If not for his instinctive resistance,
More would have been harmed last night.
The question is not—
'Was he abnormal?'
But—
Without him,
Who would have stopped that strike?"
—
Several elders murmured.
"Hmph, mere sophistry!"
—
The silver-robed elder, eyes hostile, rose sharply.
His voice cold—
"This boy's aura is abnormal.
A hidden danger.
I propose he be expelled from the academy—"
—
Xiǎo Chén did not lift his head.
He spoke lightly—
"May I ask, Elder… what rank are you?"
—
The elder blinked.
Brows arched—
"I am sixth in the council.
You may call me Sixth Elder."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi couldn't hold back.
He burst into laughter.
Turned aside, pretending to cough.
—
Xiǎo Chén added softly—
"Oh. So you're Old Six."
(In modern parlance, "Old Six" is a mocking nickname—someone sly, petty, or laughably underhanded. His words carried not only a jab at the elder's rank, but also the sting of ridicule.)
—
Beside him, Xuānyuán Dié hid a smile behind her hand.
—
The Sixth Elder's face darkened.
He was about to lash out.
But Xiǎo Chén turned slowly,
Met his gaze.
His voice calm as water—
"I entered this academy not to bow to your face.
If you want me gone—
Don't speak.
Act."
—
Xuán Chén's eyes flickered.
Thoughtful.
—
The chamber froze.
Air heavy.
—
Gǔ Líng saw all eyes fixed on the boy.
Brows lifted.
He thought—
Since waking…
It is as if his soul has been tempered in fire.
Remade.
—
He spoke at last.
Voice steady, undeniable—
"Enough.
This is not a place for words.
Nor for petty quarrels."
—
The Sixth Elder snorted.
But said no more.
—
Gǔ Líng's gaze swept the room.
Finally settled on Xiǎo Chén.
His tone deep—
"Do you remember what you saw in dream?
If there are signs, report them truthfully."
—
Xiǎo Chén paused.
Then answered—
"…Fragments.
Whispers.
Not all clear."
—
Gǔ Líng
did not press further.
He only said—
"One week remains before the Inner Court trial at Xuǎn Xuān.
If your qi remains chaotic,
The Inner Court will not accept you."
—
He paused.
His tone softened—
"But I will give you one more chance."
—
Faces shifted.
Xuānyuán Dié reminded calmly—
"Then use this time well.
Prepare."
—
Xiǎo Chén thought of Shī Tóngbǎi and Xuán Chén.
A faint warmth stirred in his heart.
He whispered—
"I will."
—
Gǔ Líng's gaze narrowed—
"Everyone else leave.
Only Xiǎo Chén stays.
This child is not bad.
He has simply—grown."
—
He raised his hand.
The courtyard fell silent once more.
—
He looked at Xiǎo Chén.
His voice even—
"This state…
How long can you endure it?"
—
Xiǎo Chén stood firm.
Eyes calm—
"No matter.
At worst… I faint again."
—
Gǔ Líng said nothing.
He lifted his teacup.
Sipped once—
"You speak lightly.
But remember—
The academy is not yours alone.
Had you lost your heart yesterday,
We would be burying you now."
—
Xiǎo Chén's brow moved.
At last he spoke—
"I understand."
—
"Understanding and doing—
Are never the same."
Gǔ Líng's eyes lowered.
His voice slow—
"If that heart demon rises again…
Can you suppress it?"
—
As he spoke,
A quiet wind stirred the chamber.
Loose pages lifted from the desk.
—
Xiǎo Chén answered low—
"If I cannot suppress it…
Then I'll fight again."
—
Gǔ Líng smiled faintly—
"You are more like a disciple of Xīnghén Sect than before."
—
Xiǎo Chén froze.
Then, wary, he asked—
"Headmaster… what do you mean by that?"
Gǔ Líng
looked at Xiǎo Chén,
As if seeing an old friend—
"Your father… was Línhǎi, wasn't he?"
—
Surprise flickered across Xiǎo Chén's face.
He asked gravely—
"What connection does the Headmaster have with Xīnghén Sect?"
—
Gǔ Líng rose slowly.
Walked to the weapon rack.
Drew a sword.
His expression shifted.
He began to demonstrate—
The Sky Mark Sword Art of Xīnghén Sect.
—
Though he used no force,
The art's dominance,
Its aura of supremacy,
Pressed upon Xiǎo Chén.
Each stroke, though unfinished,
Fell upon his brow like a blade.
As if one move would cleave him in two.
The sheer presence alone proved—
Only one versed in Xīnghén Sect could wield it.
Even disciples of the sect
Might not reach such precision.
—
When finished,
His steps glided like an eagle across stone.
Silent.
He raised his hand.
The sword returned to the rack,
As if to its place.
—
Xiǎo Chén could no longer hide his shock.
From this single display,
He understood the true power of the art.
And knew—
He had only grasped its surface.
This was the genuine Sky Mark Sword Art.
—
Gǔ Líng saw his expression.
No need for words.
He said lightly—
"I and your grandfather,
Sect Master Nì Xíngsì of Xīnghén Sect,
Once debated side by side.
We were rare friends in this world."
—
Then he spoke slowly.
Of the past.
How he sought traces of the sect.
How he learned—
The Palace of Plucking Stars and four great sects
Stormed Xīnghén Sect to demand judgment.
How they divided spoils.
How Liǔ Xīnhuì fled.
How Nì Línhǎi self-detonated.
How Nì Xíngsì fell.
—
Xiǎo Chén listened.
Tears fell silently.
This was the second time he heard the truth—
Beyond the remnant soul of Nì Línhǎi.
—
At last he understood
Why the Palace of Plucking Stars hunted him.
Anger burned.
His gaze changed.
—
A tremor stirred within.
He immediately ran the Wú Zhí Art.
Tried to master the fire.
He thought—
Anger cannot forge the sword.
If I lose myself, who will avenge them?
If I cannot master even this hatred…
How can I bear the name of Xīnghén?
—
Gǔ Líng watched Xiǎo Chén's breath shift—
From fury,
To calm.
He stroked his beard, smiling inwardly.
At last, he passed.
He is still worth teaching.
—
Once steady, Xiǎo Chén asked—
"May I ask, Elder Gǔ…
What is the essence of the Sky Mark Sword Art?
How can one wield such presence as you?"
—
Gǔ Líng lifted his teacup.
Sipped.
Set it down.
His voice deep—
"Each person's comprehension differs.
But you are of Xīnghén Sect's bloodline.
You will grasp more—
Because it is your root.
I will not teach you further.
Only remind you—
Begin with the heart method.
That is the key.
Remember—
The next trial is not only for yourself.
Go. Prepare well."
—
Xiǎo Chén nodded.
Turned.
Silent steps carried him toward true trial.
—
Outside the chamber,
Xuán Chén waited beneath bamboo.
Expression calm.
Eyes deep.
—
Warmth stirred in Xiǎo Chén's heart.
He spoke, apologetic—
"Brother… I made you worry."
—
Xuán Chén replied lightly—
"As long as you're safe.
Headmaster Gǔ…
He knows of your past?"
—
Xiǎo Chén did not answer aloud.
Through divine sense,
He conveyed what had been said—
The tie to Xīnghén Sect,
The Sky Mark Sword Art.
—
Xuán Chén nodded faintly.
His thought returned—
I guessed as much.
But you were not ready.
So I kept silent.
Now you have heard it yourself—
Perhaps this is the time.
—
The two walked side by side.
Through bamboo shadows.
Wind stirred leaves.
Light fell dappled.
Silent.
Yet trust bound them.
—
Passing the Inner Court's training ground,
Students glanced, whispered—
"That's him… the one who lost control last night?"
"They say he shattered Sword Hall's wall.
That strike—
Even Teacher Xuānyuán called it astonishing…"
—
Xiǎo Chén's expression did not change.
He acted as though he had heard nothing.
But Xuán Chén suddenly halted.
His gaze cold, like falling starlight.
It fixed upon one student.
His voice calm—
"If you have words, speak them clearly."
—
The student froze.
Before he could answer,
A mocking voice came from behind—
"What's done in secret will always be known."
—
They turned.
A steward of the Silver Mirror Society approached,
Three or four students in tow.
His manner arrogant.
Steps haughty.
The speaker—
A man in his thirties, expression frivolous.
—
"Your disgrace is seen,
And you forbid others to speak?"
He laughed.
"Then don't disgrace yourself."
—
The students behind him echoed with laughter.
—
Xiǎo Chén stepped forward.
His tone calm—
"And you are?"
—
The man lifted his chin proudly—
"Silver Mirror's records steward.
Surname Wú."
—
Xiǎo Chén's lips curved in a faint smile—
"Heh… not for long."
—
Steward Wú snorted—
"You think you're someone?
You say I'm not, and I'm not?"
—
Xiǎo Chén remained languid.
His smile faint, voice edged—
"Headmaster Gǔ has issued strict order.
Last night's events are forbidden for students to discuss.
Violators will be expelled.
As Silver Mirror's steward…
Surely you knew this?"
—
Wú's face stiffened.
He faltered.
In truth, he did not know.
He had only heard rumors from other stewards.
Seeing Xiǎo Chén, he mocked on impulse—
Never expecting to step upon a blade.
—
"You… who are you trying to scare?"
His voice rose, brittle.
"Just because you say it's an order—
It is?"
—
Xiǎo Chén watched his flustered rage.
He stepped back two paces.
His tone cooled—
"Calm yourself.
Other stewards are refined.
Why do you sound like a street thug?
Fine.
I'll go to Teacher Xuānyuán now.
Let her decide."
—
He turned to leave.
—
Wú saw danger.
He quickly signaled his companions.
They moved in unison.
Stepped forward.
Blocking the path of the two.
—
Xuán Chén chuckled—
"So Silver Mirror has learned White Xuān's tricks?
Blocking the way… you're quite coordinated."
—
Steward Wú sneered—
"Two mere mid-stage meridian marks?
You think you can walk proud?
We'll strike together, grind you into the dirt,
Cleanse this whole path!"
—
Xiǎo Chén laughed aloud—
"With that level of skill, you want to grind us?
Come then—open your dog eyes and see clearly."
—
As his words fell,
His aura shifted.
Like mountains collapsing, seas surging.
It swept across the training ground.
Silence fell.
Meridian marks—perfected.
And faint signs of breakthrough.
—
Steward Wú's legs gave way.
He dropped to the ground.
His voice stammered—
"Per… perfected?!
How… how is this…
The reports were wrong!"
—
The other Silver Mirror members paled.
They fled like scattered birds.
None remained.
—
Only Steward Wú sat collapsed.
Sweat pouring.
Face ashen.
—
Xiǎo Chén walked back, smiling—
"See?
Speaking properly would have sufficed.
You insisted on force…
Can you still move now?"
—
At the word "force,"
Steward Wú turned pale.
He fell to his knees, kowtowing—
"Senior brother, spare me!
Forgive me!
I spoke out of turn!
I'm worthless!
Treat me as nothing—just let me go!"
—
Xiǎo Chén waved his hand.
His smile easy—
"Fine.
Go then.
I'm in good mood today.
I'll spare you once."
—
Steward Wú blinked.
Raised his head, whispering—
"You… truly let me go?"
—
Xiǎo Chén's tone grew impatient—
"Hurry.
I said I'd spare you."
—
Like a man pardoned,
Steward Wú scrambled away.
Rolling, crawling.
Not daring a farewell.
—
Xuán Chén watched his retreat.
His smile faint—
"You truly let him go?
That's unlike you."
—
Xiǎo Chén grinned—
"I did let him go.
As for whether the academy spares him…
That's not my concern."
—
Xuán Chén shook his head, smiling wryly—
"You're still the same—kind words on the lips,
But keeping score inside.
So why reveal your strength now?"
—
Xiǎo Chén's eyes chilled.
His tone calm—
"To spread the word.
The faster, the better.
Otherwise, whether White Xuān Society or Silver Mirror—
Sooner or later, someone will stir trouble.
Our time is short.
Training must be done.
Exams must be faced.
Let them weigh carefully before seeking death."
—
Xuán Chén looked at him.
Suddenly, his lips curved.
His voice light—
"Mm. You've changed.
Not only stronger—
You've begun to learn…
How to survive."