'If the spring breeze pitied the flowers, might it grant me one more season of youth?'
Well — strictly speaking, standing before Gu Chengming, Jiang Lu was the younger one.
But that was precisely the point. Jiang Lu had been operating under a fundamental misunderstanding of his senior brother for so long that the sentiment felt entirely earned.
If he was being honest with himself: after absorbing the full, blazing momentum of that final sword strike from Gu Chengming, Jiang Lu had experienced something alarmingly close to his life flashing before his eyes.
He sat slumped on the ground for a long while, his mind replaying the harrowing sequence of exchanges over and over again.
At that moment, Jiang Lu found himself at a genuine loss for how to express the tangle of emotions inside him.
If he had simply been worn down by that endless clinging style and lost passively through exhaustion, the blow to his pride would have been survivable. But that final strike — he had poured everything into it. Every technique he had ever learned, every insight he had ever accumulated, all of it funneled into that one desperate, all-or-nothing thrust.
And he had still lost.
Lost so completely. So... inevitably.
The defeat left him adrift — hollow with disappointment, directionless, and for the first time in his life, genuinely uncertain about the Huiyuan Sword Art he had devoted himself to.
Had he been wrong from the very beginning? Had his understanding of this sword art been misguided since the start?
He sat with it, slowly digesting the impact of that last strike, turning over the deep, surging momentum he had felt woven through Gu Chengming's clinging sword style.
After a long silence, he slowly rose to his feet and clasped his hands toward Gu Chengming in a proper salute, his voice carrying a faint rasp: "Thank you... Senior Brother. For the lesson."
There was no question about it — that final sword strike had thrown open a door he had never even known existed.
It had shattered, thoroughly and completely, the comfortable self-satisfaction and shallow understanding he had been quietly marinating in all these years.
Saying 'thank you for the lesson' was, for once, not a pleasantry. Jiang Lu meant every word.
Gu Chengming stepped forward, steadying him with one hand, and offered the customary modest deflection: "Junior Brother Jiang flatters me. I learned a great deal from our exchange as well. Your sword style is remarkably varied — there were moments of real brilliance in it that gave me much to think about."
Jiang Lu had no response to that. He had come here with the intention of correcting his senior brother — to point out the 'errors' in his supposedly deviant sword style.
Instead, he had been the one corrected. Corrected completely, in every conceivable dimension.
The sheer scale of that reversal made him want to find a hole and climb into it.
At the same time, a new understanding was beginning to crystallize: this Senior Brother Gu was, apparently, nowhere near as simple as he had assumed.
His thoughts began drifting in an involuntary direction.
The sword intent and mastery that Gu Chengming had displayed with that final strike were clearly beyond anything a disciple at the first realm, third layer should have been capable of. Especially here at the Wenjian Sect, where cultivation realm and sword mastery were so tightly intertwined — the gap between realms was normally an uncrossable chasm.
Unless... had Senior Brother been holding back this whole time?
Phrases like 'a dragon lying low in the deep' and 'the wisest fool in the room' began floating through his mind — the kind of lines you'd hear from a traveling storyteller spinning tales of hidden masters.
In an instant, the figure of Senior Brother Gu standing before him took on an entirely new quality — something unfathomable and deeply inscrutable.
He caught himself before the thought spiral went any further. Jiang Lu offered one last sincere bow of thanks, then clasped his hands in farewell and took his leave.
That final strike had given him a great deal to work through. He needed somewhere quiet to sit down and properly digest everything.
On the other side of the courtyard, Gu Chengming watched Jiang Lu's pensive silhouette disappear through the gate, and privately felt that he, too, had gotten quite a lot out of this.
Not, of course, because Jiang Lu's sword style had offered him any particular inspiration.
It was because of this:
The panel had updated.
[The Huiyuan Sword Art watched you use your own sword's true intent to defeat Jiang Lu in a way it had never anticipated. It finds itself... feeling things. Mixed things.]
[So many disciples in the Huiyuan Gate over the years — either so gifted they couldn't be bothered to spare it a second glance, or so clumsy they just flailed through it without any rhyme or reason.]
[The Huiyuan Sword Art experiences an inexplicable sense of being consoled. And yet, alongside that, a faint, quiet twinge of inadequacy.]
[It can't help feeling that, at the end of the day, it is only a foundational art — unable to bestow upon its user the kind of overwhelming power that higher-grade sword arts can.]
[Huiyuan Sword Art Favorability +15]
[Current Favorability: Friendly (45/100)]
Watching that favorability number tick upward, Gu Chengming felt a weight lift from his chest.
As expected. Nothing worked on a sulky, resentful type quite like being seen and needed.
He rubbed his chin, quietly satisfied with his own insight.
.........................
At the same time, elsewhere — the Daoning Gate.
Atop a mountain wreathed in drifting cloud and mist, a delicate cave dwelling stood in quiet solitude.
Before its entrance, a few stalks of lush spirit bamboo swayed in the breeze, whispering softly, the air faintly suffused with the clean scent of green growing things.
Inside, a young woman sat cross-legged with her eyes lightly closed. She was dressed in a plain white robe whose hem pooled around her like spilled cloud across the polished stone floor.
Her brows arched like distant mountains faintly touched with ink; her eyes, when open, would carry the rippling clarity of autumn water. Her nose was elegant, her lips softly colored, and her skin so pale it seemed nearly translucent — like light seen through fine jade.
A cascade of jet-black hair fell unbound and unadorned down her back, lending her entire presence a quality of cool, otherworldly remove — like a immortal of the Moon Palace who had never known the warmth of the mortal world.
This was Su Qingmeng — the Dao Seed of the Daoning Gate.
A faint sound of footsteps approached from outside. A young woman in Daoning Gate disciple's robes stopped at the entrance and gave a respectful bow.
"Jingshui Pavilion disciple You Yuyao, here on assigned patrol. My apologies for disturbing Junior Sister Su's cultivation."
The Jingshui Pavilion was the Wenjian Sect's internal organization responsible for upholding sect rules and inspecting the cave dwellings of its disciples for security. Its members were generally selected from among the more attentive disciples with a reasonable level of cultivation.
Su Qingmeng slowly opened her eyes. Those clear, still irises held not a single ripple of emotion.
She regarded You Yuyao at the entrance, her voice cool and precise as the chime of jade: "Senior Sister You. Please come in."
Given permission, You Yuyao stepped carefully inside.
Looking at the legendary 'Dao Seed' junior sister before her, she found her speech becoming involuntarily stiff and halting.
"Su... Junior Sister Su, I... I'm only here for the routine check — making sure the cave's wards are all intact. I won't take up much of your time."
You Yuyao's voice had gone a little tight, her expression caught somewhere between reverence and awkward self-consciousness.
Su Qingmeng gave a slight nod and said nothing further, simply watching her in silence.
You Yuyao steadied herself as best she could, produced a small compass-like instrument, and made a circuit of the cave dwelling, carefully checking the flow of spiritual energy through each ward. Her movements were light and deliberate — she was terrified of making any unnecessary noise that might disturb this junior sister's practice.
Once the inspection was complete, You Yuyao tucked the instrument away and bowed again. "Junior Sister Su, all wards are functioning normally. I... I'll take my leave now."
"Senior Sister You," Su Qingmeng said suddenly.
"Ah — yes! Here!" You Yuyao went rigid, answering immediately.
"Your Condensing Water Formula seems to have hit a bottleneck." Su Qingmeng's gaze settled on You Yuyao's wrist, where a faint pulse of spiritual energy moved sluggishly, catching as though on something. "A restless mind is the greatest enemy of cultivation. Settle yourself, and even water, given enough time, will wear through stone."
You Yuyao's face flooded with sudden, uncontainable joy. She hadn't imagined that her minor cultivation struggle — something so small and unremarkable — could be seen through at a glance by Junior Sister Su, let alone that she would receive such precious guidance. Overwhelmed, her words came out in a tumbling rush: "Th-thank you so much, Junior Sister Su! I... I understand! I'll settle my mind, I will, and I'll train properly!"
Su Qingmeng gave only a mild nod and closed her eyes once more, as if nothing had passed between them at all.
Not daring to linger a moment longer, You Yuyao carefully retreated from the cave dwelling.
After leaving Su Qingmeng's cave, You Yuyao's emotions refused to settle for a long time.
As she walked back toward her own dwelling, she turned those words over and over in her mind, and felt something unlock — the bottleneck that had been plaguing her for weeks seemed, for the first time, to show the faintest signs of giving way.
She was still basking in that warmth when voices drifted toward her from not far ahead — hushed, conspiratorial, the unmistakable texture of gossip.
She followed the sound and spotted a cluster of female Daoning Gate disciples gathered beneath an old pine, heads bent together, their expressions carrying the telltale gleam of people enjoying someone else's misfortune.
"Have you heard? About that Gu Chengming from the Huiyuan Gate—"
"The one who went and asked Junior Sister Su to be his cultivation partner a while back?"
"Wait, that actually happened?!"
"It really did... honestly, it's a little hard to believe."
Every word reached You Yuyao's ears without loss, and the bright warmth in her expression drained away in an instant, replaced by something distinctly unpleasant.
In her view, Junior Sister Su Qingmeng was a person of rare, flawless character and extraordinary genius — the pride of the Daoning Gate, and of the entire Wenjian Sect.
And she had made a point of finding out about this Gu Chengming.
Years in the sect. Cultivation still stuck at the first realm, third layer.
In You Yuyao's estimation, having a person like that connected to Junior Sister Su's name in any capacity was, in itself, a profound insult.
She couldn't stand to hear another word. She strode forward and cut through their chatter with a cool, flat voice: "Do you all have nothing better to do? No cultivation to attend to?"
The disciples turned. When they saw it was You Yuyao of the Jingshui Pavilion, their expressions shifted to sheepish unease.
They had been caught gossiping, yes — but they had no desire to get on the wrong side of anyone from the Jingshui Pavilion.
"Senior Sister You..."
The group mumbled their greetings and, reading the room, dispersed without further prompting.
You Yuyao let out a cold huff and watched them go, but the anger in her chest did not abate in the slightest.
She returned to her own cave, shut the stone door behind her, and still the words she had overheard continued to echo.
The more she thought about it, the more it stung.
The Wenjian Sect was far too lenient with its disciples. To think that a bad apple like that had been allowed to coast along, eating the sect's food and doing nothing of value, for this long — it was simply unacceptable.
.........................
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