7

Naturally, the two of them didn't end up fighting that day. Drawing swords against fellow disciples was an unspoken taboo within the sect. But if not for that rule, Lin Ximo was certain—either he or Chong Yue wouldn't have walked away alive.

"Cut it out," Xi Lan had no choice but to step in. "Elder Duan Yu is on his way."

Their instructor, Elder Duan Yu, was a tall, burly man with a thick beard and an even thicker presence.

"So you're the new personal disciple?" he said, slapping Wang Xiaoxiao on the shoulder.

With just one slap, she was sent sprawling to the ground.

"…"

Duan Yu blinked in mild surprise. "You're that fragile?"

Xiaoxiao eyed his bulging muscles, then looked down at her own skinny arms and legs. She wisely kept quiet.

"She's not like me, Elder," Lin Ximo piped up. "You've been beating me up for years."

"She's only been here one day. Try not to break her yet."

Xiaoxiao shot him a grateful look.

Bless your heart, Lin Ximo.

Duan Yu laughed. "Of course, of course. I know what I'm doing."

He gave Xiaoxiao a once-over. Perhaps realizing she wouldn't survive a typical training session, he sighed. "Let's start you off with Treading the Clear Wind."

He tossed a manual into her arms, which she reflexively caught.

"It's a movement technique to improve speed. Every personal disciple gets a copy. Your senior brothers have all mastered it—practice hard. I'll be checking in three days. If you're still slow then... get ready for a kicking."

"A kicking?" Xiaoxiao echoed weakly.

What kind of kicking?

She found out soon enough.

Since she was still new, she spent her first lesson observing Lin Ximo's sword training. Elder Duan Yu spent the entire class chasing after him like a cat tormenting a mouse.

Every time Lin Ximo slowed down even slightly—bam. A kick landed squarely on his backside.

Xiaoxiao watched in horror.

Her face turned green.

She liked slacking off, sure. But getting kicked in the butt? Not her style.

Over the next three days, Wang Xiaoxiao carefully studied Duan Yu's movements, dodging early and often to spare herself from that same fate.

That was the real value of Treading the Clear Wind—it let you dodge faster when you were about to get kicked.

Lin Ximo, already used to the abuse, even had the grace to yank Xiaoxiao out of harm's way mid-run.

The two of them ran one after the other, knowing that whoever lagged even a little would get kicked. No one wanted to suffer that humiliation. So they ran like their lives depended on it.

And just like that, the two pitiful disciples began their brutal training journey under Duan Yu's merciless hand.

Chong Yue, being a talisman cultivator, had no need to participate. He sat nearby drawing talismans with a smirk, occasionally tossing out a snide comment or two.

Even Xiaoxiao wasn't spared his sharp tongue.

"Little potato landmine," he said one day, pressing a hand to her head with an exaggerated look of disgust. "What happened to your face? Did your family starve you as a child?"

"…" Xiaoxiao took a deep breath.

In her mind, she repeated her mantra like a prayer: I'm not angry. Other people can get angry. I will not. Anger leads to illness, and no one will pay my medical bills. He's a personal disciple. He's allowed to be annoying.

Today was a cultivation theory class, and to her dismay, the instructor was none other than Elder Zhao—the same man who had watched her and Lin Ximo create a massive crater behind the mountain a few months ago.

Maybe it was because she'd offended him back then, but every lesson, he made a point of calling on her. Whenever she failed to answer, her punishment was always the same: cleaning duty at the Scripture Pavilion.

Today was no different.

Halfway through the lecture, Xiaoxiao had already tuned out. She saw Zhao Elder's eyes sweep toward her and, desperate to save herself, raised her hand and shouted:

"Elder! Senior Brother Chong Yue said he knows the answer!"

Zhao Elder paused and turned. "Chong Yue? You do? Come, then. Show your junior disciples how it's done."

"Wait, what?" Chong Yue stared in disbelief, his eyes snapping toward Xiaoxiao, utterly stunned.

Xiaoxiao gave him a sweet, innocent smile. "If not you, then who? You're the pride of the Talisman Division, Second Brother. With great power comes great responsibility, right?"

After all, what were senior brothers for if not to take the fall?

And definitely not because you keep calling me a potato landmine.

To be fair, theory class was incredibly dull. Chong Yue hadn't been paying attention either. Ever since Xiaoxiao arrived, Zhao Elder had focused all his questions on her. So when it suddenly turned to him, he stood up confused, then sat back down even more confused.

Unsurprisingly, he got scolded too.

Halfway through the class, Xiaoxiao was dozing off, chin in hand. Her eyes started to close when a quiet voice whispered near her ear.

"Little junior sister, class is over."

Those three words—class is over—were burned into her very soul. On reflex, she shot to her feet. The desk scraped loudly as it slid forward.

She turned on her heel, ready to bolt toward the cafeteria.

Only to be grabbed by Chong Yue.

A bad feeling crept over her.

Sure enough, she turned around to find Xi Lan and the others still seated, perfectly obedient.

Class was very much not over.

Zhao Elder frowned. "Why are you standing?"

"Oh?" He gave a cold laugh. "So you're unhappy with my teaching? Tossing the desk was supposed to make a point?"

Disturbing the class could be a serious offense.

Xiaoxiao was lectured again. Then, once more, sent to clean the Scripture Pavilion.

It was the tenth time that month.

She was completely numb to it now.

Chong Yue, however, looked delighted. He watched her return to her seat, smiling smugly. "Karma is real, little junior sister."

Just as the words left his mouth—

"And you!"

Zhao Elder's furious voice rang out again. "Chong Yue! You didn't know the answer either. You two can clean the pavilion together."

The smile vanished from Chong Yue's face. "…Huh?"

Xiaoxiao, who had been sulking, suddenly perked up. "Oh, how the tables turn, Second Brother."

Come, let's suffer together.

Chong Yue: "…"

The Scripture Pavilion was vast, with books neatly arranged across four levels: cultivation methods, alchemy, talismans, and sword techniques. The shelves spiraled upward around a hollow center where a blue glowing formation floated midair, giving the place a quiet, majestic aura.

The custodian glanced up from his desk. "Back again?"

The word again cut deep.

Ever since Zhao Elder's theory class began, Xiaoxiao had been a frequent guest. She had sweeping experience now—expert level.

Chong Yue, on the other hand, had never done anything so menial in his life. He refused to move. Xiaoxiao half-heartedly swept around him.

"Move," she grumbled, jabbing at his feet with the broom.

"…," Chong Yue silently shifted aside.

"I'm the only talisman cultivator among the personal disciples," he reminded her. "And I'm your senior brother."

She leaned on her broom and clapped slowly. "Wow. So impressive."

"So, so impressive." Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

Chong Yue was sure she was mocking him.

Neither of them wanted to sweep. Both were stuck in a standoff, each thinking: Why should I do it when they're just standing there?

The custodian snorted. "No food until it's clean."

Xiaoxiao's dead-fish eyes widened.

Time ticked by. Eventually, Chong Yue cracked.

"I'm hungry."

Xiaoxiao paused, then nodded. "Me too."

Chong Yue cleared his throat. "Why don't we… sweep faster?"

"Agreed."

The two who had been bickering just minutes ago were suddenly in perfect sync. Armed with brooms in both hands, they sprinted across the pavilion at top speed, dust flying behind them.

The custodian coughed, choking on the cloud of dust. He looked up to see two lunatics hopping around with brooms like over-caffeinated praying mantises.

He rubbed his temples.

These two idiots…

After their chaotic sweep, the pair dashed straight to the cafeteria.

The custodian sat there in silence, abandoned in the whirlwind of their passing.

"…This is the 'talent' you told me about?" he muttered toward the empty room.

Talent? More like reincarnated starving ghosts.

From the shadows, Elder Duan Yu stepped out, clearly having watched everything unfold. He rubbed his chin and said sheepishly, "She's got a good memory."

No—a phenomenal one.

Even Lin Ximo, born with a sword-cultivator's physique, had taken ten days to grasp Treading the Clear Wind.

Xiaoxiao had mastered it in just three.

So Duan Yu had suggested to Elder Zhao that she be assigned Scripture Pavilion duties more often. Let her read more, he'd said. It'd be a shame to waste talent like hers.

But the girl never even looked at the books. She just swept and ran.

The custodian snorted. "If her memory's that good, how come she flunked every outer sect test?"

Sword cultivator exams were straightforward—just required familiarity with sword forms.

"If she could really memorize everything on sight, she should've aced the exams in two months. Instead, her results were trash."

It was a puzzling contradiction.

Duan Yu didn't reply. Doubt began to creep into his mind.

Had he misjudged her?

Maybe mastering Treading the Clear Wind in three days… had just been dumb luck.