After that, Gu Chengming's daily routine underwent some subtle changes.
Every morning, the moment the sky began to pale with dawn, a lone figure practicing the sword would appear beneath that plum tree in the side courtyard of the Northern Garrison Manor.
There were no earth-shattering bursts of sword energy, nor any flashy, elaborate displays of technique. Gu Chengming simply repeated, over and over again, the most basic few movements of the "Huiyuan Sword Formula".
Thrust, flick, sweep, shave.
Gu Chengming sheathed his sword and stood, brow faintly furrowed, realizing that the angle of the thrust he had just executed was off by three parts—which had increased the strain on his wrist during the follow-up transition by two-tenths.
And within his sea of consciousness, the "Huiyuan Sword Formula"—who normally would still occasionally sulk with jealousy and vie for his affection—was now displaying an unprecedented diligence.
One person, one technique, as though locked in a contest of wills, took tireless delight in this dull, foundational practice.
—It was just like being back in the days when they had practiced the sword every single day at the Wenjian Sect.
At the other end of the courtyard, Nuo Tao, bundled up like a little dumpling, crouched on the stone steps. She cradled a bowl of piping-hot tofu pudding in her hands, slurping at it as she watched Gu Chengming practice.
Though she couldn't grasp the finer points of the sword's Dao, by the keen intuition that came from being a theft-cultivator, she could feel that the Gu Chengming of now seemed to have become somehow cleaner.
Nuo Tao marveled that Brother Gu really was a monster. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she pulled a still-not-quite-warmed ranking scroll from her robes and came dashing over in high spirits.
Nuo Tao waved the scroll in her hand, telling Brother Gu to stop practicing for a moment—she had big news—and pressed him to guess what it was.
Gu Chengming sheathed his sword, calming the true essence surging within him, and took the scroll with a smile. "Looks like Miss Nuo's Myriad-Theft Gate intelligence network has spread all the way to Snowfall Pass now?"
Nuo Tao smugly tilted her chin, then urged Gu Chengming to stop stalling and hurry up and look at the ranking.
Gu Chengming did as she said and unfurled the scroll.
[Hidden Dragon Ranking, Third Place: Gu Chengming]
[Record Updated: Outside Snowfall Pass, with a body at the Second Realm, he met head-on and slew the Fourth-Realm demon king, the Green-Scaled Hawk King (though external aid was involved, the fatal blow was indeed his own doing).]
[Appraisal: His momentum is fully formed, his edge laid utterly bare.]
Gu Chengming looked at that third-place ranking, yet felt little in his heart.
Compared to such empty fame, what he cared about more was the current state of the Huiyuan Sword Formula.
Because of so many failures, Little Huiyuan had begun to grow somewhat anxious.
Though Gu Chengming was still comforting and encouraging her, Little Huiyuan always retained a faint undertone of self-doubt.
If before it had been about getting her to value herself, this time, Gu Chengming hoped he could make her realize she should value herself—even the flawed self.
He casually handed the ranking back to Nuo Tao, said a word of thanks, and once more took his sword in hand.
Seeing him like this, Nuo Tao muttered inwardly, what's gotten into Brother Gu lately? She'd never seen him this sword-obsessed before.
Still, she knew Gu Chengming's temperament, so she said nothing more, and, hugging that now-cold bowl of tofu pudding, ambled back to the stone steps to keep crouching there.
The ringing of the sword rose once more in the courtyard.
Gu Chengming closed his eyes, immersing his spirit entirely in the Dao of the sword.
The morning light gradually brightened, and the snow piled in the courtyard reflected a faint golden glow.
Amid the flickering of sword-light, a figure in plain white robes quietly appeared at the courtyard gate.
Luo Jinyao stood there in silence, a food box in hand, not making a sound to disturb him—simply watching quietly as Gu Chengming practiced.
Her gaze was gentle and intent, like a mother watching her own child grow, her eyes brimming with gratification.
Whenever a tiny deviation crept into Gu Chengming's movements, her brow would knit ever so slightly, as if she were noting in her heart the places that needed correcting.
When he had finished running through the sword form, Gu Chengming sheathed his blade and stood—and only then did he notice that Luo Jinyao had already been standing there for quite some time.
It was only as Gu Chengming sheathed his sword and steadied his breath that he was startled to find someone there.
Gu Chengming was slightly taken aback, and hastily clasped his hands in salute. "This junior was too absorbed in his practice and failed to notice Senior's arrival. Truly, it was a discourtesy."
"It's fine."
Luo Jinyao shook her head, a very faint smile playing at the corner of her lips. Lifting the hem of her skirt, she walked straight to the stone table in the courtyard, her steps crunching softly against the piled snow.
"I was only just passing by, and when I heard some commotion in this courtyard, I thought I'd come take a look." As she spoke, she gently set the food box down on the stone table, her tone as natural as if she were a regular guest of this courtyard.
"Up so early, working yourself hard—you surely haven't eaten breakfast yet, have you? As it happens, I brought a little something along."
Gu Chengming was about to say he actually wasn't hungry, or that he could make do with a fasting pill, but the instant Luo Jinyao lifted the lid of that food box, the words caught in his throat.
The box was divided into three tiers. The top held several steamers of crystal-clear soup dumplings, their skins thin and fillings generous, still sizzling with heat. The middle held a pot of spirit-rice porridge, simmered thick and soft, in which one could faintly make out finely shredded meat and century egg. And the bottom held several small dishes of perfectly pickled, refreshing side vegetables—jade-green and tender-yellow—the very sight of which set one's fingers itching to dig in.
Luo Jinyao took out bowl and chopsticks and, with practiced ease, ladled Gu Chengming a bowl of porridge, pushing it across to the seat opposite the stone bench.
"Eat while it's hot."
She sat down across from Gu Chengming, hands tucked into her sleeves. "They say cultivators are untroubled by cold or heat, free from the pull of hunger and fullness—but you, after all, are still laying your foundations. The body is the root of cultivation. If you squander it recklessly, trusting in your youth, it's your future depth you'll be draining."
Her tone was unhurried, exactly like those elders who stuff a traveler's pack to bursting before departure, and still can't stop themselves from murmuring on and on with reminders.
"Thank you, Senior."
"Hurry and eat—it won't taste good once it goes cold. I'll just sit here a while, and take the chance to point out a few problems in that sword form you were just running through."
Once Gu Chengming set down his bowl and chopsticks, Luo Jinyao immediately switched roles.
She put on no airs of a lofty master; she simply took the long sword from Gu Chengming's hand and broke each move and stance down, kneading them apart, demonstrating for him in person.
Wherever Gu Chengming had some confusion, she would repeat it again and again, ever so patient.
Each time Gu Chengming grasped it at a single hint, the corners of her eyes and brows filled with smiles, and she was never sparing with her praise.
By the time the sun stood high overhead, Gu Chengming saw her to the courtyard gate and bowed solemnly. "Many thanks for today, Senior. I've caused you trouble."
"What trouble is there to speak of?"
She raised a hand and lightly patted Gu Chengming's shoulder, her tone taking on a note of feeling. "I've guarded the Northern Territory for ten years now. My sword grows sharper the more I practice, yet the days grow ever lonelier and colder. Now that all of you have come, this Northern Garrison Manor finally has a bit of warmth to it."
"In my eyes, you're all like family. I only hope you can walk farther than I ever did."
In the morning light, the woman's plain robes were white as snow, her smile warm and gentle.
"Cultivate well, but don't push yourself too hard, either. If you're short of anything, or if there's something you'd like to eat, come find me anytime—don't stand on ceremony."
Gu Chengming was moved in his heart, and thanked her aloud.
The days at Snowfall Pass passed by one after another, and the number of failed challenges grew greater and greater.
The third day. The seventh failed challenge.
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula gripped the great sword in its hands. Though somewhat discouraged, it told itself this was perfectly normal.]
[That pale figure represented perfection, while it and Chengming were both still on the road of growth—failure was only temporary!]
[It believed that so long as they kept trying, one day they would surely surpass that so-called theoretical limit!]
Gu Chengming felt the Huiyuan Sword Formula's emotions and smiled with gratification, saying softly within his sea of consciousness, "That's right. We'll take it slow."
The seventh.
The twenty-third failed challenge.
In the courtyard at dawn, Gu Chengming practiced his sword as always.
His movements were smoother than they had been a few days ago; the transitions that once required deliberate thought now flowed like drifting clouds and running water.
The angle of the wrist, the rhythm of the footwork, the coordination of breath with the sword's momentum—every detail was drawing closer to something better.
But within his sea of consciousness, the Huiyuan Sword Formula felt, for the first time, a trace of anxiety it couldn't quite put into words.
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula watched Chengming's increasingly practiced movements. Its heart should have been glad.]
[But why—why could they still only whittle down one-third of the opponent's health?]
[It began to wonder whether it was somehow not doing well enough.]
The tenth day. The fortieth failed challenge.
That day, Gu Chengming rarely persisted for nearly two full hours.
His swordsmanship grew ever more refined, and that health bar at last advanced from one-third down to only one-fifth remaining.
But as Gu Chengming withdrew from the stone platform, preparing to encourage the Huiyuan Sword Formula as he always did, he sensed that something was off.
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula lifted its head, straining to make its voice sound cheerful.]
[We're almost there!]
Gu Chengming frowned, about to ask something more, only to be cut off by Nuo Tao's voice.
"Brother Gu! Senior Luo brought food again!"
The girl's voice came from beyond the courtyard, and Gu Chengming had no choice but to push down the doubts in his heart for the moment.
The thirteenth day. The sixty-third failed challenge.
For some reason, Gu Chengming kept feeling that the sword in his hand was somehow disobedient.
Moves he had drilled countless times would develop the tiniest deviation at the critical instant.
That deviation was minuscule—so small that no outsider could possibly detect it—but in this duel, even a hair's difference would be magnified without limit.
The result was that this time he was sealed at the throat by a single sword-stroke before he'd even shaved off half the opponent's health.
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula said in a small voice, I'm sorry... it didn't know why either. It really wanted to cooperate properly, but it just couldn't manage to be that perfect...]
[Its voice grew smaller and smaller, until at the end it was almost inaudible.]
[I'm sorry, it's all because it's too stupid...]
Gu Chengming pursed his lips, realizing that the sense of inferiority the Huiyuan Sword Formula had kept buried in its heart for so long had finally surfaced once more.
It was heart-wrenching, and yet there was no doubt about it... the opportunity now at hand was the very best chance to make the Huiyuan Sword Formula fall in love with its own imperfect self.
At the Sword-Questioning Stone in the Wenjian Sect, Gu Chengming had merely gotten the Huiyuan Sword Formula to accept itself, to realize that there was someone in this world who valued it.
But if the knot in its heart was to be untied completely, the only way was to make the Huiyuan Sword Formula value itself.
As Gu Chengming pondered thus, an entire course of strategy had already taken shape in his mind.
—From the very beginning, his purpose had been the Huiyuan Sword Formula alone.
The fourteenth day.
Beyond the courtyard, the setting sun sank in the west.
The evening glow of Snowfall Pass dyed half the sky red, a beauty so intoxicating it stole the soul.
Gu Chengming did not go to the Love Laboratory. He simply stood in the courtyard, gripping the [Evil-Repeller], repeating over and over the most basic hacking and cleaving.
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula was still curled up in the corner.]
[It wanted to say something, but couldn't get anything out...]
[It thought to itself: if only I could do better, wouldn't Chengming not have to work so hard?]
[If only that more perfect Huiyuan Sword Formula were it...]
He said softly within his sea of consciousness, "Little Huiyuan, do you still remember the first time we practiced the sword together?"
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula was startled, then gingerly nodded.]
"Back then I was all clumsy hands and feet, and you weren't nearly as impressive as you are now. In those days, the two of us had to practice even the most basic opening stance a hundred times before we could get it right."
Gu Chengming smiled. "But back then—were you happy?"
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula froze.]
[Happy?]
[It thought of those days—thought of the satisfaction of the first time it completed an entire sequence of sword moves, thought of the joy when Chengming praised it for being so impressive.]
[It had never once thought of becoming anything perfect. It had only, simply, wanted to grow stronger together with Chengming, to walk forward together.]
"We may never be perfect. We may always have openings. We may always make mistakes."
"But so what? We'll hurt, we'll tire, we'll doubt ourselves—but we'll also laugh, we'll cry, we'll cheer and leap for joy over one tiny bit of progress."
"These things—perfection will never have them."
"It's precisely these flaws that make up who we are, isn't it?"
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula suddenly understood.]
[The reason it had always wanted to become Flowing Light, Sword Shadows, wanted to become that perfect shadow, was that it feared it wasn't good enough—feared it wasn't worthy of Chengming.]
[But it had forgotten... what Chengming chose had never been the "best sword formula"—it was it.]
[It was that clumsy, mistake-making, fearful, yet also all-out-fighting, protect-him-with-everything Huiyuan Sword Formula.]
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula choked up a little: I'm sorry... Chengming, I shouldn't have doubted us.]
"No need to apologize." Gu Chengming smiled. "Doubt is perfectly normal. Fear is perfectly normal, too."
"But right now—are you still willing to go try one more time, together with me?"
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula nodded hard, and the light in its eyes brightened once more.]
[This time, it was not to chase after any perfection.]
[It was to prove—]
[that their own path, too, could be walked all the way to the end.]
The fifteenth day.
At dawn, Gu Chengming once again stood before the entrance of the mist gate.
"Come."
He raised his sword and assumed that most basic, most clumsy, but also most truly his own opening stance.
This was a tug-of-war so long it was nearly enough to drive one to despair.
This space held no concept of time, but Gu Chengming knew that he had already fallen on this stone platform no fewer than a hundred times.
Each time he rose, it was harder than the last. Though his consciousness-body could not truly die, the agony of being pierced by a keen blade, of being torn apart by sword energy, was utterly real.
"Clang——!"
Another collision, entirely without flourish.
The [Evil-Repeller] in Gu Chengming's hand was struck aside by an immense force, missing by a hair from tumbling into that endless abyss.
He gasped for breath in great heaves, sweat dripping from his lashes, gazing through blurred vision at that pale figure ahead—still spotless, its very breathing never once disordered for even an instant.
That was the perfect "Huiyuan Sword Formula".
It had stripped away every superfluous movement, wielding every last measure of spiritual power to its utmost. Ceaselessly it showed Gu Chengming: look, this is the form you ought to have—this is the true "Dao" of this swordsmanship.
And set against it, the sword moves Gu Chengming had honed through countless drops of sweat seemed so crude, so rough, so full of openings.
Gu Chengming closed his eyes. What surfaced in his mind was not the moves from the sword manual, but that afternoon he first entered the sect, that morning in the courtyard swinging his sword through the forms, that stroke that nearly slipped from his grip out of nervousness, those imperfect arcs, those sword-tips trembling from sheer exhaustion.
"It has never, in the dead of night, pounded a wall in frustration over ruining a single move, nor waved its sword about wildly out of joy at a breakthrough."
"It has only 'correctness.'"
"And what we have is 'experience.'"
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula stared at him blankly.]
[It suddenly recalled those training posts Chengming had cut through one after another, recalled that wooden sword soaked through countless times with sweat, recalled that fool before the Sword-Questioning Stone—drenched in blood, yet smiling so brilliantly.]
[Those were the unique marks that belonged only to it and Gu Chengming.]
"Hmmmm——"
In that moment, the sword in Gu Chengming's hand changed.
It was no longer that imitation that tried to chase after "perfection," but a complete and utter release.
The sword intent, which had grown somewhat stagnant out of inferiority, came alive in this single instant.
It became coarse, became wild, even carried a faint scent of earth and blood—yet it was also so real, so scorching-hot.
[The Huiyuan Sword Formula trembled no more.]
[The timidity in its eyes was swept clean away.]
[It was the Huiyuan Sword Formula that belonged to Gu Chengming alone, the Huiyuan Sword Formula that had accompanied him from a mere mortal to this very day!]
[It was precisely those imperfect flaws that allowed it to become the one and only Huiyuan Sword Formula—the one belonging to Gu Chengming.]
"Come!"
Gu Chengming roared, and instead of retreating, his figure surged forward, charging of his own accord straight at that pale figure!
The pale figure moved.
It was still that textbook-perfect "opening stance into Clinging Formula," its sword-point aimed precisely at the largest opening Gu Chengming had exposed in his charge—his heart.
By theory, Gu Chengming now had to withdraw his sword to parry, then fall into the opponent's tide-like, unbroken onslaught, and in the end be defeated.
That was a certain-death situation derived from countless calculations.
But Gu Chengming did not parry.
It was as though he hadn't even seen that stroke; his steps held not the slightest hesitation, and even his stance grew somewhat odd—
—just like the somewhat awkward stance from the very first time he had practiced the Huiyuan Sword Formula.
"Squelch!"
The pale figure's long sword pierced into Gu Chengming's left shoulder—it missed the heart, but ran clean through flesh and bone.
Gu Chengming used his own flesh-and-blood body to lock down the opponent's sword-point, and in the instant that searing pain shot through him, a look of fierce delight broke across his face.
"Got you."
The [Evil-Repeller] in Gu Chengming's hand did not thrust out any exquisite flower of the blade—it simply came straight down, carrying all of his spirit and vitality, carrying every experience he and the "Huiyuan Sword Formula" had walked through all this way.
Smashing down, ferociously!
Who the hell gave you the right to define a so-called upper limit?!
BOOM——!!!
It was not the sharp cut of coursing sword energy, but a blunt strike like mountains collapsing and the earth splitting apart.
In that instant, the CG image in Gu Chengming's mind seemed to overlap.
That stubborn back before the Sword-Questioning Stone merged as one with this blood-drenched figure at this very moment.
"Crack."
A tiny splintering sound rang out.
That sword, congealed from rules and representing the theoretical limit, was, under this utterly formless blow of Gu Chengming's, snapped clean apart by brute force.
Then the cracks spread to the pale figure's arm, torso, and on across its whole body.
That perfect, lofty, condescending shadow shattered with a roar before Gu Chengming's stroke so full of "humanity"—like an exquisite porcelain piece.
It dissolved into points of light filling the sky, like a grand and magnificent snowfall.
Gu Chengming held the pose of his downward slash, gasping in great gulps of air. The wound on his shoulder still bled, yet he felt an ease he had never known before.
The points of light filling the sky did not scatter away; instead, like moths hurling themselves at a flame, they slowly gathered onto the long sword in Gu Chengming's hand, merging into the "Huiyuan Sword Formula" within him that was even now cheering and leaping for joy.
It was not a correction of techniques, but a sublimation of essence.
It was still that basic sword formula, still bearing all manner of flaws—but those flaws had, in this moment, all turned into an edge that belonged to Gu Chengming alone.
He dropped to one knee, propping himself on the [Evil-Repeller], gasping hard. The wound on his shoulder still bled, but that pain, at this moment, made him feel a realness he had never known before.
[Detected: Host has shattered the "Illusion of Perfection" and held fast to the "Bond of the True Self."]
[Obtained: CG / Love Huiyuan Sword Formula (Incomplete).]
Before Gu Chengming could examine the system panel closely, the scene before him began to change.
The points of light that had scattered did not vanish entirely; rather, they slowly gathered a short distance before him, like a starfall flowing in reverse.
The specks of starlight intertwined, coiled, and reshaped.
First a hazy outline, then slender shoulders and neck, then cascading long hair—it was a girl.
She wore a plain set of sword robes, a trace of not-yet-faded childishness still lingering in her features, her black hair like ink, draped loose over her shoulders.
That was the aura he had felt every time within his sea of consciousness, the soul that resonated in the same frequency with him every time he swung his sword, the one who would fret over making mistakes, leap for joy over progress, and burst into tears out of heartache whenever he was hurt...
"Little Huiyuan...?"
"Mm!"
No familiar blue dialogue box popped up.
This time, that voice no longer sounded directly through his mind, but passed truly and tangibly through the medium of the air, carrying a girl's peculiar softness and tremble, falling into Gu Chengming's ears.
Gu Chengming instinctively wanted to speak, but he couldn't get a sound out.
For that black-haired girl in the gray robe suddenly took a step forward. She rose onto her toes, and those not-especially-delicate little hands gently cupped Gu Chengming's cheeks.
Her fingertips were a little cold, and in the instant they touched Gu Chengming's scorching skin they flinched slightly—yet firmly, they did not let go.
Those eyes, black and white so clearly defined, drew very close—close enough that Gu Chengming could count her fluttering lashes, close enough to feel her somewhat quickened, warm breath spilling against the tip of his nose.
"I like you."
She murmured softly, a trace of longing in her voice.
Then she closed her eyes and, clumsily but ardently, kissed him.
There was no technique to speak of.
Then, the girl's hands began to reach clumsily toward Gu Chengming's body.
—What exactly is the meaning of this, Little Huiyuan?
Well—the attitude was, in truth, already quite obvious.
Gu Chengming did not shrink back; instead, he took the initiative.
It was long since time to unlock the Special CG!
Gu Chengming reached out and wrapped an arm around the girl's waist. She let out a somewhat flustered little "Mn," and then began to take the initiative as well.
The CG image freezes.
In the dim space, points of light filled the sky, drifting down like snow.
In the lower-right corner of the image, gilded small characters slowly surfaced:
"The world demands that we be perfect, but I only want to love you completely—regrets and flaws and all."
—CG "Love Huiyuan Sword Formula" · Unlocked
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