“You have no idea, Seventh Senior Sister is different from everyone else, even when she's just practicing basic sword moves.”
“Huh? She was just here a moment ago.”
The instructing disciple scanned the area but saw no sign of her. He scratched his head in confusion. “That's weird. Where did she go?”
Hearing this, Twelfth Elder looked up with a knowing gaze. She glanced at the ancient, sturdy tree at the edge of the field, her eyebrows arching slightly as she pointed with her chin. “No need to look. She's right here.”
Everyone followed her gaze and looked up, only to see Song Yao lying haphazardly on a thick horizontal branch several dozen feet off the ground.
Half of her body leaned against the main trunk, with one leg dangling casually over the edge of the branch. Her head rested on her arm, her eyelashes drooping quietly as she breathed softly and evenly, fast asleep.
The wind rustled the leaves, casting dancing shadows over her robes, and a few stray hairs brushed gently against her cheek.
For some reason, it was a picture of perfect tranquility.
“Why is Seventh Senior Sister sleeping in a tree? Isn't her health already poor? What if she falls...”
The instructing disciple gasped and instinctively called out to her, “Seventh Senior Sister!”
He called out a few more times, but she didn't respond.
Twelfth Elder raised her hand to stop him. “Forget it, don't wake her. It's rare to see anyone actually able to sleep around here. You all keep practicing. I'll keep an eye on her.”
That was true.
Though everything seemed peaceful on the surface, everyone had a heavy weight on their hearts, deeply worried about the chaos outside.
They didn't know how things were going out there.
Nor did they know when the enemies would find this place.
Much less when all of this would finally end.
The disciples murmured in agreement and gripped their swords once more.
As sword light flashed across the training grounds, Twelfth Elder leaped onto a higher branch. She watched the disciples practice for a while, then turned her gaze back to Song Yao, who was sleeping like a baby.
This young girl was truly a wonder.
She looked as ethereal and aloof as an immortal, giving off the impression of a very polite and gentle child. Yet, her actions were always completely unpredictable, and she was incredibly thick-skinned.
She gave off the strange vibe that she was perfectly fine with living, but wouldn't mind dying either.
I should really ask her for some tips on her mindset one of these days.
...
After an unknown amount of time, the sun began to sink in the west, casting a warm, golden-red glow through the leaves and onto her face.
Song Yao's eyelashes fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes. Before she was even fully awake, she heard the sharp sound of rushing air right by her ear.
She instinctively reached out and caught the hilt of a sword, gripping it firmly in her hand.
In the next instant, a bright red silk ribbon shot toward her like a serpent, aiming straight for her ankle.
Song Yao tapped her toes against the branch and flipped backward into the air, narrowly dodging the attack.
The red silk swept across the branch she had just been resting on, leaving a shallow groove in the wood.
On a branch opposite her, Twelfth Elder wound the end of the red silk around her fingers, her narrow eyes filled with amusement. “Awake, Little Wood? I heard you've been teaching these disciples swordplay. Come on, spar a few rounds with me. If you win, my reward to you will be letting you become my disciple. How about it?”
Song Yao: “...”
Is that supposed to be a reward?
She rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her messy hair. “No thanks. I don't want to be a spiritual cultivator.”
Twelfth Elder wasn't annoyed. Instead, she feigned disappointment. “And here I thought I could coax you while you were still half-asleep. Kids these days are really hard to trick.”
Song Yao yawned, slipping back into her usual lazy demeanor as she retorted, “I'm not a kid.”
“Fine, you're not a kid... If you don't want to be a spiritual cultivator, so be it. But surely you can spar a few rounds with me? Let me see what level your sword cultivation has reached.”
As Twelfth Elder spoke, the red silk shot out from her hand once more, striking fiercely toward Song Yao.
To her surprise, Song Yao didn't move an inch. Instead, she tilted her head back slightly, exposing her fair, slender neck. With her eyes half-closed, she said in a slightly raspy voice, “I'm not fighting. Twelfth Elder might as well just strangle me to death.”
She was the very picture of a dead pig that didn't fear boiling water.
The red silk stopped barely half an inch from her neck, the gust of wind whipping her stray hairs wildly.
Left with no choice, Twelfth Elder withdrew her spiritual energy, and the red silk snapped back into her sleeve with a rustle.
She landed right beside Song Yao and reached out to pinch her cheek in exasperation. “Fine, fine, fine. No fighting it is. Little Wood, you're certainly much bolder now than when you first joined the sect.”
Back then, when she was tricked into owing the sect money, she had looked as if the sky was falling. She hadn't even argued, just wearing a pitiful, miserable expression on her little face.
Now, though, she had loosened up quite a bit.
It was nice to see.
After pinching Song Yao's face to her heart's content, she finally said, “Go get some food. Seventh Elder came looking for you earlier. He didn't want to wake you since you were asleep, so he told me to have you head over once you woke up.”
“Okay.”
Song Yao turned to leave, but didn't forget to add before she walked away, “It's really not that I didn't want to fight. Aren't you injured, Twelfth Elder? You need to rest well when you're hurt, otherwise everyone will worry, right?”
Twelfth Elder hadn't expected her to offer an explanation. Seeing her earnest face, she was suddenly struck by how adorable she was.
Wait, no.
Why on earth can't this child be my disciple?!
If I go murder the Hall Master right now, would it be possible to take her as my personal disciple?!
Song Yao didn't understand why Twelfth Elder had suddenly developed such a complex, inexplicable expression. She blinked and made her way toward the small courtyard near the living quarters.
However, the moment she stepped inside, she paused.
Sitting quietly around three stone tables was a large crowd of children, numbering at least several dozen.
The oldest looked no more than thirteen or fourteen, while the youngest was still being cradled in someone's arms. Most of them seemed to be around six, seven, or eight years old.
Only a few of them looked slightly familiar; the vast majority were complete strangers.
The delicious aroma of food drifted from the kitchen. Seventh Elder happened to be walking out carrying a large basin of soup, followed by a lean youth who was nimbly helping to set the dishes on the tables.
When the youth looked up and spotted her, his eyes lit up instantly. He quickly set the plate in his hand onto the table and cried out in delight, “Master Lin!”
Song Yao blinked in surprise. The youth had already walked over quickly, his face slightly flushed with shyness as he scratched his head to introduce himself. “Do you not remember? I'm Ming Ji, from the Ming family. Ming Ran is my cousin. Back at Black Cloud Mountain, you saved us and told us to go to Nine Saints Hall for help. Have you forgotten?”
Song Yao finally remembered. She looked behind him and realized, “So all these children are from your Ming family?”
There were so many of them that she really couldn't keep them straight.
Ming Ji shook his head. “Only the children at this table are.”
Song Yao asked, “Then what about the children at that table?”
Ming Ji hadn't even spoken when Seventh Elder slammed the soup basin onto the table with a heavy thud. He huffed, “You still have the nerve to ask? Didn't you say nothing happened to you out there? Going off to play the big hero and getting surrounded by so many evil cultivators—why didn't you say a word about that?”
Seventh Master's temper has gotten a lot worse lately.
Song Yao grinned and argued, “But didn't I come back completely in one piece? Besides, I had to play the hero. They were going to tear out everyone's tongues. If you had been there, Master, you would've done the same.”
Seventh Elder glared at her, but ultimately stopped lecturing her. He muttered grumpily, “You always have an excuse. Hurry up and sit down to eat.”
Song Yao didn't push him further. Just as she found a spot and sat down, the children around her began to call out timidly one after another, “Hello, Seventh Senior Sister.”
“Hello, everyone.”
Song Yao took the bowl of soup handed to her by He Yu and asked curiously, “So where did these children come from? Are they from our sect?”
Rate on N.U.
