In the early morning light, Ye Mingzhi left the campsite, heading towards the river to catch some fish for lunch. The forest was quiet, but his senses twitched—something was wrong.
A moment later, shadows burst from the trees.
A group of assassins charged at him, blades gleaming and killing intent surging. Calmly drawing his sword, Ye Mingzhi met them head-on. Blades clashed, sparks flew, and one by one, the assassins fell—until only their leader remained, breathing heavily, eyes locked on Ye Mingzhi.
They exchanged a few more fierce blows, neither able to gain the upper hand.
"This should be enough," Ye Mingzhi muttered under his breath. He steadied his stance, then whispered:
"Moon-Wind Style."
His blade moved with impossible speed—sharp, elegant, unpredictable—like a breeze slicing through moonlight. It was the technique he had forged through days of reflection and training.
But the leader parried it, barely, and neither had strength left to strike again.
"Tch... next time, you won't be so lucky," the man sneered, before vanishing into the trees.
Ye Mingzhi stood still, catching his breath. His hands trembled slightly.
That should've ended it... but it didn't.
The Moon-Wind Style was incomplete—still too raw. Its offense lacked weight, its defense had holes. He sighed, wiping sweat from his brow.
"So frustrating... too much still needs fixing."
Suddenly, a teasing voice came from his sword.
"You call that a sword skill? I feel like I should knock some sense into your head."
Ye Mingzhi froze. He looked down at his blade.
"…Did you just talk?"
The voice huffed, then giggled.
"You idiot! You seriously don't remember me? Fine. Let me reintroduce myself—I'm Qi Jue, spirit of this sword. Back when you were powerful, I didn't need to say anything. I just followed along as you rose to the top of the Nine Heavens. And now? You've turned into a clueless amateur who can barely swing a sword straight."
A small figure materialized beside him—a teenage girl dressed in yellow, her hair tied into a high ponytail. Her arms were crossed, lips curled into a pout.
"Qi Jue…" Ye Mingzhi murmured. Despite her sharp tongue, her presence felt… familiar. Warm.
She pointed at him dramatically.
"You want to get stronger? Fine! But you seriously need proper training. You're out of stamina already—and don't even get me started on that sloppy form."
She spun in the air, grinning.
"Starting tomorrow, I'm taking over. No more lazy shortcuts. We're fixing that sorry excuse of a sword skill, and you're going to learn it properly."
Then she sniffed.
"But first—I'm hungry. Go make lunch, you stupid master. Chop chop~"
She hummed a strange tune as she floated ahead, urging him to hurry up. Ye Mingzhi could only sigh and smile helplessly.
He had survived another battle… and now gained a tiny, bossy teacher.
As he walked back through the sunlit forest, the scent of blood faded on the wind.
And perhaps, just perhaps, a new chapter had begun.
Back at the camp, Ye Mingzhi cooked a simple lunch by the fire. Qi Jue sat cross-legged on a rock, happily munching on grilled fish. Suddenly, her ears twitched.
"Wait a second... That aura..." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me—that noisy girl is here too?!"
Without hesitation, she floated into the air and shouted toward Chu Xiyue's sword, glowing faintly beside her.
"Yue Yue! Get out here! You dare hide from me?!"
A shimmer of light surged from the blade, and a graceful figure emerged. Silver-haired, calm-eyed, her presence was soft but unshakable.
"Qi Jue," she said coolly. "Still as loud as ever, I see."
"You're asking for a fight!"
Before anyone could react, the two sword spirits leapt at each other in midair. Qi Jue moved with fierce agility, while Yue countered her with elegant precision. They clashed in a dazzling storm of light and force, exchanging blows as if caught between a duel and a reunion.
Ye Mingzhi and Chu Xiyue stood at the side, completely stunned.
"Uh… are they fighting or catching up?" Ye Mingzhi asked quietly.
Chu Xiyue blinked. "I… think it's both."
After a dozen brilliant exchanges, the two sword spirits collapsed onto the grass, panting slightly—Qi Jue's ponytail a mess, and Yue's elegant sleeves frayed at the edges. Instead of continuing the fight, they looked at each other—and suddenly hugged.
"I thought you were gone, you idiot," Qi Jue muttered.
"You too... Always pretending to be strong but crying when no one's looking," Yue replied, her voice softer than ever.
Ye Mingzhi cleared his throat awkwardly. Chu Xiyue gently tugged his sleeve.
"Let's give them some space," she whispered with a smile.