He sat there in silence for a while, fingers tapping against his knee. "Tch, what a pain in the back."
His eyes narrowed as the thought circled again."I did hint that I'd find a way to heal her…"
"How do I solve this now?" His voice came low, almost to himself, before trailing into silence.
Truthfully, it wasn't necessary for him to lift a finger. If Elder Yao's cultivation crumbled, it changed nothing for him. And yet, something in him kept tugging—pulling him toward her in a way he couldn't dismiss.
Was it gratitude, buried deep, for how she had once looked after him? Or something else entirely—something that couldn't be put into simple words?
At length, he exhaled lightly, lips curving in that faint. "Looks like you'll just have to stay in that condition for now, old hag."
He had thought of pills, but quickly dismissed the idea. She had said it herself—ordinary means wouldn't undo what plagued her. And he was still too new to this world of cultivation, still ignorant of many things.
Even so, he couldn't fully shake the thought away. His hand slipped into his sleeve, pulling free a wooden token given to him weeks ago. The faint carving of a name caught the lamplight.
"Wu Ruya of the Alchemy Hall…" he murmured. His eyes lingered on it before tucking it away again. "Maybe I'll pay him a visit—after the tournament ends."
The room fell quiet once more. Lao Xie closed his eyes, sinking back into meditation, though his thoughts lingered longer than usual. Outside, the night stretched on, and before long, the first light of dawn crept across the peaks of Silver Crescent Sect.
Morning, Azure Sky Waterfall Garden.
Ling Ruxin arrived early, her steps light but her chest faintly restless. The sound of falling water greeted her as always, yet today it seemed louder, as if echoing her own pulse. She sat beneath the willow, guqin across her lap, fingers brushing its strings. But no melody came. Every time she tried, her mind drifted back to the night before.
"I really said that, didn't I…?" Her cheeks warmed at the thought. She shook her head quickly, but it lingered anyway.
The crunch of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up, startled, only to see him approach, calm as ever. Lao Xie's white robes stirred faintly with the breeze, his expression unreadable save for the faint curve at his lips.
"Were you waiting long?" His voice carried a lazy amusement, as though he already knew the answer.
"I—no, not at all," she said quickly, lowering her gaze to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.
"Good. Then let's begin." He stepped closer, drawing the wooden sword from his side.
Their training resumed, but today felt different. Lao Xie's corrections came often, deliberate—his hand guiding her wrist a moment too long, his presence brushing close as he adjusted her stance, his breath near her ear when he spoke. Each time, Ling Ruxin's composure cracked, no matter how she tried to hold firm.
Her swings grew cleaner, smoother, yet her heartbeat refused to settle. At one point, his hand steadied her at the shoulder, his voice low. "Better. But don't freeze up just because someone's close."
Her face burned. "I-I'm not freezing up."
"Mm. If you say so." His chuckle was soft, fleeting.
By the time she lowered her blade again, her chest rose with both exertion and nerves. She couldn't tell which weighed heavier.
Lao Xie, however, only watched quietly, his eyes sharp behind that faint smile. Inwardly, his thoughts moved elsewhere. She's not bad with the sword. More than that—she reacts far too easily. A few more days like this, and the mission will be complete.
After correcting her stance, Lao Xie didn't step back. Instead, his tone was casual, almost careless.
"Not bad. But if you only stick to one form, you'll never last beyond the first few rounds."
Before she could relax, he shifted suddenly. "Try this instead."
He moved behind her again, guiding her through a different sword form. His hand brushed her shoulder lightly, then slid lower to straighten her elbow. Each correction was small, but his presence loomed close, his breath faint against her ear.
Ling Ruxin's thoughts scattered. She tried to focus on the flow of her sword, but her heart pounded louder than the waterfall. Even so—she didn't refuse him.
Ling Ruxin froze, her cheeks burning hotter than the morning sun.
"I–I didn't—!" The words tumbled out before she could think, her hands tightening against the wooden sword as if it were her only anchor.
He didn't move away right away. His arm remained steady at her waist, the faint curve at his lips never fading.
"No?" His tone carried a lazy amusement. "Then perhaps I misunderstood."
Her heartbeat stuttered at the closeness, and only then did he release her, stepping back as though nothing had happened.
"Focus. Again," he said simply, as if the moment were nothing more than another correction.
But Ling Ruxin couldn't focus. Her grip trembled slightly, her thoughts tangled between shame, nerves, and something else she couldn't name.
Three days slipped by in the blink of an eye.
The waterfall garden had become their quiet routine—morning after morning, blades in hand, her focus tested, his presence pressing closer with every correction. At first, Ling Ruxin had faltered with each touch, every teasing word sending ripples through her composure. But repetition dulled the edge of surprise, if not the heat behind her cheeks.
To anyone else, it looked like ordinary training. Yet between the adjustments of her wrist, the steadying of her stance, and the near-whisper of his voice at her shoulder, an unspoken tension grew sharper by the day.
By the third morning, her movements had grown cleaner, steadier. Her sword no longer shook in her grip, though her heartbeat still betrayed her at times.
Now, the two of them sat beneath the willow, the sound of water filling the silence. Ling Ruxin set her wooden sword aside, breathing evenly after the session. Lao Xie leaned back against the trunk with casual ease, as though he had merely been humoring her for the past three days.
"Not bad," he said at last, his tone indifferent, though his eyes lingered on her longer than the words suggested. "You actually did great for a newbie."
Her lips curved faintly, equal parts relief and pride at the rare praise.
Then, without warning, a faint shimmer flickered before Lao Xie's eyes.
[Main Task – Ling Ruxin]
Progress: 100%
Status: Completed
[Rewards are being issued…]
A second panel unfolded.
[Affinity Unlocked – Ling Ruxin]
Current Interest: 3 Stars (+1 Star)
The glow lingered, and at that moment, a voice resounded in his mind—smooth, steady, carrying that ever-detached tone.
"Congratulations, host. You have successfully completed the main task ahead of time. Your progress is remarkable."
Lao Xie's gaze sharpened for a fleeting instant. He closed his eyes lightly, as if simply resting, though the faint curve at his lips betrayed his thoughts. So it's finally done.
The system's voice lingered, calm and unwavering.
"Would you like to view your rewards now?"
Lao Xie's lips curved faintly, though he gave no outward response. In his mind, his answer was curt. Not now. Later.
"…Acknowledged." The panels dissolved into nothing, leaving only the quiet sound of the waterfall once more.
For a brief moment, his gaze had shifted—too sharp, too focused. Ling Ruxin noticed. Her brows furrowed slightly as she tilted her head toward him.
"Are you… alright?" she asked, hesitant.
His eyes opened, calm as ever. "Hm? I'm fine." The words came with practiced ease, a light smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Just thinking."
She relaxed a little, though her curiosity lingered. "About what?"