Mirror Reversal

The guardian beast advanced with each step, causing the ground to tremble subtly beneath its feet. Its scarlet eyes shone like lanterns bathed in blood, fixed on me. A low, menacing roar emanated from deep within its throat as its razor-sharp claws carved deep furrows into the earth. I leaned against a shattered bookshelf, my chest was wracked with pain as my broken ribs stabbed at my organs, each breath slicing through me like a knife. 

My sword had already slipped from my grasp and landed several yards away. The blood seeping from the corner of my mouth mingled with dust, leaving a bitter, rusty tang on my tongue. I scanned the area desperately for an escape route, but the confines of the Mirror Sutra Repository were narrow and sealed—there was nowhere to hide.

"Is this the end after all?" I managed to steady my breathing, warring with excruciating pain as I refused to surrender. The man in the black robe, the mystery of my father's death, Tianyan Sect—none of these had yet been resolved. How could I simply fall here?

Just as the guardian beast was about to pounce, Xuanling's words suddenly echoed in my mind: "Though the mirror world resembles reality, it is utterly different. In this realm, everything is reversed—left mirrors right, and front transforms into back."

A thought flashed through my mind like lightning—if directions are inverted, could it be that all other rules are reversed as well? If, in reality, inner energy is expelled outward, then in the mirror world, might it instead be drawn inward?

This idea was like a key, instantly unlocking new possibilities. In the way of cultivation, projecting energy is used for offense while restraining it fortifies defense. But in this mirror world, could it be precisely the opposite?

There was no time for further thought. The guardian beast lunged suddenly, its massive claws slicing through the air with a whistling whoosh as they aimed straight for my throat. In that desperate moment, I closed my eyes and, instead of unleashing inner energy outward to counter the attack, I reversed its flow, channeling every last bit of inner energy into my wounded body.

A shocking occurrence unfolded—as I infused inner energy into my shattered ribs, an invisible surge erupted from my body, coalescing into a cyan blade that struck the guardian beast's front claw dead-on. It emitted a pained hiss and staggered backward several steps, its blood-red eyes flickering with bewilderment, as if it had never before encountered such an attack.

"Just as I suspected!" I rejoiced inwardly, persisting with this counterintuitive method of energy manipulation by gradually infusing inner energy into every wound. As the energy was drawn inward, the pain within me did not worsen—instead, it gradually subsided; simultaneously, spiraling streams of inner energy burst from my body like countless invisible swords, thrusting toward the beast's vital points from all sides.

Stunned by this sudden change, the guardian beast instinctively recoiled a few steps, its blood-red eyes revealing a confusion it had never known before. It swayed its massive form, attempting to dodge the bizarre inner energy assaults, only to find that these attacks clung to it relentlessly, impossible to evade.

Seizing the opportunity, I forced myself to stand, my mind raced frantically as I sought to unravel the paradox of this mirror realm.

"If everything is reversed…" I murmured softly, a glimmer of insight lighting my eyes, "then retreat is advance, and weakness is strength!"

I began to back away slowly, deliberately making each step appear more feeble—stumbling, swaying, even pretending to collapse from exhaustion. Observing this, the guardian beast's vigilance waned, and it drew near once again, seemingly ready to deliver a final, crushing blow.

Just as it bent down, I secretly manipulated my inner energy—but this time, rather than fortifying myself, I deliberately stifled its flow within me, nearly halting it. Under the mirror world's peculiar rules, this act of feigned weakness abruptly transformed into a potent offensive; an invisible inner energy storm erupted around me, hurling the guardian beast away and slamming it forcefully against the opposite wall.

The wall trembled violently as clouds of dust and shards of stone cascaded down. Amid the rubble, the guardian beast struggled to rise, its red eyes flickering erratically in evident disarray. It could not fathom how a prey already grievously injured could suddenly become so formidable—a complete contradiction of the combat rules it once knew.

I slowly straightened my posture; though the pain persisted, it no longer threatened my life. I regulated my breathing, a new understanding taking root deep within me.

"In this mirror world, displaying strength actually reveals a weakness, while feigning vulnerability becomes the most potent weapon," I whispered, each word infused with newfound clarity. "The essence of swordsmanship does not lie in the moves, but in the intent—the sword follows the heart." It seemed I was beginning to grasp the words my father had once spoken.

The guardian beast started to circle me warily, no longer launching a reckless assault. Its blood-red eyes shimmered with both caution and confusion, as though it were assessing the true strength of this peculiar adversary. I stood my ground, deliberately displaying an air of frailty while internally calculating my next move.

"I must quickly locate the Jietian Sword Diagram instead of getting entangled with this guardian beast," I thought, my eyes darting toward the staircase leading upward. According to Xuanling, the book I sought was on the seventh floor.

The guardian beast appeared to sense my intent; with a roar, it positioned itself before the staircase, brandishing its sharp claws in a threatening display. I feigned fear, retreating a few steps slowly as terror flickered in my eyes. In response, the beast surged forward with even greater force.

And that was precisely to my advantage.

In this mirror world, my act of feigned fear and retreat transformed—by the inverted rules—into an unseen offensive. With each step the guardian beast took, it encountered an invisible pressure, as if colliding with an unseen wall. Its advance grew increasingly hesitant until it finally halted just a few paces from me, its fierce glare gradually replaced by bewilderment.

I maintained my expression of feigned fear, stepping back deliberately to widen the gap between us. Under the mirror world's rules, this retreat was, in fact, a powerful offensive posture that kept the guardian beast at bay. I moved slowly along the wall, steadily approaching the staircase leading to the seventh floor.

The guardian beast roared in agitation, attempting to break through the invisible barrier, yet every effort was rebuffed. It appeared utterly confounded, unable to grasp this defiance of conventional combat. Seizing the moment as I neared the stairs, I abruptly shifted tactics—deliberately exuding confidence and strength, straightening my back, and fixing my gaze resolutely on the beast.

Under the mirror world's laws, this display of strength instantly reverted to an appearance of vulnerability. Caught unawares, the guardian beast lunged instinctively but missed me entirely. I swiftly sidestepped, using its momentum to hurl it against a nearby bookshelf. With a tremendous crash, the entire shelf collapsed, scattering countless ancient books to form a natural barrier.

Without hesitation, I seized the opportunity, turning quickly and dashing up the stairs toward the seventh floor. Behind me, the guardian beast struggled amid the fallen debris of the bookshelf, its enraged roars echoing throughout the entire Mirror Sutra Repository.

The staircase wound upward, and with each step the air grew thinner, imbued with an ancient aura. Though my injuries had somewhat subsided due to my earlier maneuvers, my chest still throbbed subtly—especially as my broken ribs had not yet fully healed, causing each breath to sting with a faint, persistent pain.

After ascending several levels of ancient stairs, I finally reached the seventh floor. Contrary to the imagined grandeur, the space was modest yet evoked an impression of boundlessness—the ceiling soared impossibly high, as if touching the heavens; the walls, though close, seemed distant as if at the edge of the world. The entire chamber felt as though perception had been warped by some ineffable force. Ancient, mysterious runes adorned the walls, shimmering faintly in the dim light like countless slumbering eyes silently watching every intruder.

At the very center stood a simple, ancient jade box—precisely where Xuanling had indicated. The box, a pale blue-white in hue, was intricately carved with swirling cloud patterns and sword motifs, emanating a subtle, ethereal glow. As I drew near, my heart began to race—could this be the Jietian Sword Diagram?

Just as I was about to open the jade box, a loud clamor erupted behind me. The guardian beast—whose pursuit I had lost track of—now stood at the base of the stairs, its blood-red eyes fixed intently on both me and the jade box, emitting a deep, throaty roar as if warning me to stay away.

I drew a deep breath to steady my mind and contemplated my next move. Opening the jade box outright would undoubtedly provoke the beast's attack, and in such a confined space, it would be nearly impossible to employ my previous escape strategy again.

Suddenly, I noticed that the guardian beast's eyes kept glancing at the jade box; beyond the fierce glare, there appeared to be a trace of… fear?

"Is it afraid of what lies within the jade box?" A spark of realization ignited within me as I recalled the mirror world's rules: "If everything is inverted, then its fear might signify..."

I deliberately reached toward the jade box, mimicking the gesture of opening it. Immediately, the guardian beast erupted in fury and lunged to block me. I quickly altered my approach, refraining from touching the box and instead retreating a few steps while feigning terror.

The guardian beast halted, watching me with a perplexed gaze, seemingly unable to fathom my actions. I continued to back away, my display of fear growing more pronounced, even trembling as I pointed toward the box and whispered, "So terrifying… too dangerous…"

Under the influence of the mirror world's laws, my feigned fear transformed into an unseen force that gently compelled the jade box to open. The guardian beast seemed to sense this change, spinning in place in frantic confusion, desperate to intervene yet uncertain of how.

As the jade box slowly opened, a surge of cyan light burst forth like a gushing spring, instantly filling the entire space. This was no ordinary radiance—within the light, countless overlapping sword silhouettes danced like a flowing starry river, each emitting a crisp, melodious chime that together formed a transcendent symphony. Confronted with this brilliance, the guardian beast recoiled in terror as if facing a mortal enemy, hissing in agony while its massive claws shielded its eyes, and its scales trembled incessantly—some even dislodging and disintegrating into ash in the air.

I seized the opportunity and approached the jade box. Inside lay an ancient, unadorned book; its cover was embroidered with the four imposing characters "Jietian Sword Diagram" in golden thread, the strokes as sharp as a blade. The moment my hands made contact with the book, a powerful dizziness overwhelmed me, and the entire world began to twist and warp.

"Time is up, little one," Xuanling's voice resonated in my ear, "Return now."

After a disorienting spin, I found myself once again standing in the real world's Sutra Repository, the pain in my chest mysteriously vanished as I stood upon a cyan stone. Xuanling still reclined atop a massive stone in the corner, its eyes glimmering with an uncanny light. Nearby, Moqing—whose serene eyes hinted at hidden depths—quickly approached me.

"Have you succeeded?" Moqing's voice remained cool and detached. "What method did you use?"

I offered a slight smile and retrieved the Jietian Sword Diagram from my bosom. "There was an element of luck involved," I replied succinctly, choosing not to elaborate on the mirror world's rules, "The guardian beast is indeed fierce, but not invincible."

Xuanling descended from the massive stone, its tortoise-like eyes glinting with a peculiar light. "You, little one, are far more intriguing than I expected. This guardian beast, known as the Chaos Beast, is impervious to blades and immune to fire and water—it is one of the guardians of the Sutra Repository." Its tone carried a note of admiration, "It seems this book is truly fated to you."

"In three thousand years, you are only the second person to bring back an actual item from the Mirror Sutra Repository."

Moqing regarded me deeply, those eyes as profound as ancient wells seemingly able to peer into my very thoughts. "I have already retrieved the other two cultivation manuals for you. It is time for us to return." She handed me two jade slips; though her tone remained as cold as ice, to my ears it carried a subtle, complex emotion I couldn't quite decipher.

"May I ask, senior—who was the first person to bring back an actual item?" I couldn't help but ask as I took the jade slip, my suspicions already stirring within.

Xuanling fell silent for a moment, its tortoise-like eyes reflecting a fleeting trace of reminiscence, before it finally sighed, "An old friend." It said no more, slowly climbing back onto the massive stone and closing its eyes as if succumbing to slumber.

I carefully tucked the Jietian Sword Diagram and the two jade slips into my bosom, bowed respectfully to Xuanling, and then followed Moqing out of the Sutra Repository.

Leaving the Sutra Repository, the sunlight remained bright and the sky as blue as if freshly washed—as though nothing had happened—except that a surreal, lingering pain still throbbed in my chest alongside the cool, clammy touch of the jade slips.

Moqing continued ahead, her white attire outshining the purity of snow, her silhouette exuding an air of cool detachment.