After three consecutive days of rain, the sky finally cleared up.
The morning mist dispersed, and sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the old plum tree, shattering into golden fragments across the stone table.
Bai Qingxue sat by the stone table, a pot of tea placed before her.
The door to the side room was half-open, and Ning Qinghan was not in the courtyard.
Her silhouette was cast upon the window paper, perfectly still, leaving it unclear whether she was meditating or lost in thought.
A knock sounded at the courtyard gate.
Bai Qingxue set down her teacup, stood up, and opened the gate.
Ye Qingyao stood outside, dressed in a pale green martial attire. Her hair was neatly tied back, and the short sword with its dark green scabbard hung at her waist.
The morning light fell upon her face, illuminating her features brightly.
“Sister Bai,” Ye Qingyao called out, a subtle, uncontrollable trace of excitement in her voice. “I've reached the ninth level of Qi Refining.”
“Congratulations,” Bai Qingxue replied.
The corner of Ye Qingyao's mouth curved upward slightly.
“Sister Bai, I want to spar with you,” Ye Qingyao said. After a brief pause, she added, “Formally.”
Bai Qingxue looked at her for a moment and nodded.
She walked back into the courtyard, picked up the Shuanghua sword from the stone table, and turned to face Ye Qingyao.
“I will suppress my cultivation to the ninth level of Qi Refining.”
Ye Qingyao nodded, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
Her fingers lingered on the hilt for a split second as if confirming something, and then she drew her sword.
The moment the short sword left its scabbard, a bright sword light sliced through the morning mist. The tip of the blade trembled slightly, pointing toward Bai Qingxue's left shoulder.
Behind the window of the side room, Ning Qinghan sat by the edge of her bed. She was not asleep, but merely lying there, listening to the activity in the courtyard.
The knock on the gate, the sound of it opening, and then that clear voice calling, “Sister Bai.”
She rolled over to face the window, but did not get up.
After a short while, the sound of a sword cutting through the air echoed from the courtyard—one strike after another, rapid and light.
Ning Qinghan listened for a moment before finally sitting up. She walked over to the window and pushed it open just a crack.
In the courtyard, Ye Qingyao's sword was incredibly fast.
It was not a brutish speed, but rather one that carried an airy agility.
The blade sliced through the air with almost no sound, like a sudden gust of wind sweeping through a bamboo forest, lunging from Bai Qingxue's left side.
Bai Qingxue stepped aside to dodge, her Shuanghua sword rising in a gentle parry.
The two swords clashed, producing a crisp, metallic ring.
Ning Qinghan leaned against the window frame, her arms resting on the sill and her chin propped on them.
She watched the pale green figure.
Thrusting, parrying, and striking again—each strike faster than the last. The sword light wove a green web around her, closing in on Bai Qingxue.
She must have practiced for a very long time.
Ning Qinghan thought to herself. After all, to possess such swordsmanship at only the ninth level of Qi Refining required an immense amount of effort.
Is she doing this for Bai Qingxue as well?
The moment this thought arose, Ning Qinghan startled herself.
She did not know why she would think such a thing, yet she felt her intuition was likely correct.
Ning Qinghan shifted her gaze from Ye Qingyao to Bai Qingxue.
Right now, Bai Qingxue was weaving through the web of sword light.
Bai Qingxue's sword was not fast, but every strike perfectly blocked Ye Qingyao's offensive—no more, no less.
Several times, the tip of Ye Qingyao's sword grazed Bai Qingxue's robe, leaving faint marks on the frost-white fabric.
With every near miss, her sword grew a fraction faster, as though she were chasing a distance that was always just slightly out of reach.
Bai Qingxue looked at Ye Qingyao.
Within those pale eyes, something stirred slightly.
Then, her sword momentum shifted.
The Shuanghua sword traced an arc through the air, suddenly pressing down and slicing right through the center of Ye Qingyao's web of sword light.
Ye Qingyao's sword momentum stalled, as if held up by an unseen force, unable to accelerate any further.
The tip of Bai Qingxue's blade stopped three inches from Ye Qingyao's throat.
Ye Qingyao's sword remained raised in midair, but she could no longer thrust it forward.
Bai Qingxue sheathed her sword.
“You've improved.”
Ye Qingyao stood in place, her chest heaving heavily.
She slowly withdrew her sword and tried to return it to its scabbard, succeeding only on her second attempt.
“I still couldn't defeat you, Sister Bai,” Ye Qingyao said.
At this moment, Ye Qingyao could hardly be said to be complaining. After all, she knew she had a very low probability of defeating Bai Qingxue, yet she had still wanted to try.
Bai Qingxue glanced at her but did not reply.
She turned and walked back to the stone table, set down the Shuanghua sword, picked up a cup of tea that had already gone cold, and took a sip.
Ye Qingyao stood in the courtyard, not following immediately.
She stared at Bai Qingxue's profile, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword before letting go.
Still just a bit short.
Then, Ye Qingyao walked over and sat down opposite Bai Qingxue.
Bai Qingxue poured her a cup of tea, but though Ye Qingyao picked it up, she did not drink. Instead, she asked:
“Sister Bai, just now... were you holding back?”
Bai Qingxue held her teacup, not answering immediately. Only after a moment of silence did she speak:
“No.”
Ye Qingyao looked at Bai Qingxue.
Those pale eyes were as calm as a pool of still water, offering no hint of whether she was telling the truth.
She did not know if Bai Qingxue was speaking the truth or simply trying to spare her feelings.
But the result was the same.
Whether she had held back or not, she had lost. A loss was a loss.
Ye Qingyao lowered her head, looking at the tea in her cup.
The liquid reflected her own face, showing her brow slightly furrowed.
Frowning again.
Ye Qingyao said to herself.
Whenever she faced Sister Bai, she always seemed to be like this.
There was too much she wanted to say, but too little she actually spoke.
There was too much she wanted to do, but too little she actually did.
All that remained was piled between her brows, carving themselves into a frown.
She reached up to touch the space between her brows, then lowered her hand, raised the teacup, and took a sip.
The tea was cold and highly astringent. Her throat moved slightly as she swallowed.
“Sister Bai, I will come again,” she said. After a brief pause, she added, “Next time, I will be stronger.”
Hearing this, Bai Qingxue looked at Ye Qingyao for a moment. Something stirred slightly within those pale eyes, and then she lowered her gaze again, taking another sip of tea.
She replied softly, “Mm.”
Ye Qingyao set down her teacup and stood up. Yet, she did not leave immediately, standing there instead to watch Bai Qingxue drink her tea with lowered eyes.
Just stay a little longer. Ye Qingyao thought silently as she looked at Bai Qingxue.
But now that the spar was over and the tea was finished, there seemed to be no excuse to linger.
But Ye Qingyao did not want to leave. It had been so difficult to come here, so difficult to see Sister Bai, and so difficult to sit together.
Even if they just drank tea in silence, she felt it was far better than before.
Ye Qingyao parted her lips, only to realize she could not find a single excuse to stay.
Why was that?
Why was she always unable to speak her mind?
Clearly, she desired to understand Sister Bai more than anyone else. Clearly, Sister Bai had been away from her for so long, and clearly, she had so much to say.
Yet, when the words reached her lips, those thousands of thoughts shrank into the safest possible phrase.
“Sister Bai, I'll be leaving now...”
Hearing this, Bai Qingxue nodded.
Ye Qingyao turned and walked toward the courtyard gate.
As she reached the gate, she paused, turning her head to glance at the window of the side room.
The window was closed, but there seemed to be a faint, blurry shadow on the paper, resembling the silhouette of a person.
But she was probably just overthinking it.
The courtyard gate closed.
Inside the side room, Ning Qinghan stood behind the window.
She did not push open the window, merely watching the pale green figure disappear beyond the courtyard gate through the thin window paper.
When Ye Qingyao had looked over, Ning Qinghan had instinctively stepped back.
It was not out of fear, but rather because Ning Qinghan sensed that the girl's feelings for Bai Qingxue might be somewhat unusual.
If she were discovered living here, who knew what that girl would think?
Just imagining it made Ning Qinghan feel that it would cause trouble.
And Ning Qinghan did not want to cause trouble for Bai Qingxue.
After all, she had already caused enough trouble, hadn't she?
Rate on N.U.
