Shī Tóngbǎi
had been training in Sword Hall's outer court
For over half a month.
Morning and dusk—
All blades and shadows.
It was hard.
But his heart burned—
For the first time,
He felt like a real person.
—
By day, he sparred with Xiǎo Chén.
By night, Xuānyuán Dié drilled him in Flying Butterfly Sword.
Daytime beatings.
Nighttime refinement.
Behind it all—
Xiǎo Chén and Xuán Chén fed him spirit stones and medicine.
—
A man once blocked in his meridians,
Now broken through.
Born with seven marks.
Given resources, techniques, and a master's hand—
His progress was no surprise.
—
Inside the hall,
Xiǎo Chén sparred with Xuānyuán Dié.
Silver light danced.
Spear intent flew.
She watched coldly—
Noted the shadow of Xīnghén Sect in his moves.
She asked—
"Where'd you learn that spearwork?"
—
Xiǎo Chén smirked—
"Suàn Wúyí, that old freak,
Tossed me some broken pages."
"I flipped through them—
And here we are."
—
She didn't press.
Just snorted.
—
Her sword spun.
She pressed the attack.
Then glanced at Shī Tóngbǎi—
"Breaking through is just the start."
"Without support—
Even seven marks rot in form trace forever."
—
Xiǎo Chén twirled his spear—
"Good thing we've got resources."
"Got teachers."
"And I'm his punching bag."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi wiped his sweat.
Muttered—
Following these two…
I got my life back.
But lost half of it in the process.
—
Xuānyuán Dié scanned him again.
His breath was messy—
But his foundation was solid.
She said nothing more.
Her gaze turned to Xiǎo Chén.
—
"He held up."
"What about you?"
—
Xiǎo Chén shrugged,
Grinned—
"Teacher, I survived the arena."
"This is—"
—
Clang.
Her sword tip pinned his spear tail.
—
"No lip."
"This month—
Train until your spear has true intent."
"Fail—
You stay in Sword Hall."
"Spar against me—at half strength."
—
Xiǎo Chén's smile twitched.
He glanced at Shī Tóngbǎi,
Collapsed and panting.
He sighed.
Raised his spear.
Thought—
Half strength from Symbol Realm…
I'm gonna lose half my life.
—
Shī Tóngbǎi
remained in Sword Hall's outer court,
Training in seclusion.
Half a month passed.
Blades at dawn.
Sweat at dusk.
It was harsh—
But his heart burned.
For the first time,
He felt alive.
—
By day, he sparred with Xiǎo Chén.
By night, Xuānyuán Dié drilled him in Flying Butterfly Sword.
Beaten by day.
Refined by night.
Behind it all—
Spirit stones and medicine from Xiǎo Chén and Xuán Chén.
—
A man once blocked in his meridians,
Now broken through.
Born with seven marks.
Fed with resources, techniques, and a master's hand.
His progress—
No surprise.
—
Back at the dorm,
Xiǎo Chén returned alone.
He opened the door—
Xuán Chén sat cross-legged by the wall,
Hourglass talisman spinning silently.
—
Xiǎo Chén placed a few torn pages before him—
"Brother, take a look."
"Keep what's useful.
Trade the rest."
—
Xuán Chén flicked a finger.
Talisman breath locked the pages.
"Useful."
"You rest first."
—
Xiǎo Chén said no more.
Sat down.
Entered meditation.
But behind closed eyes—
A familiar shadow rose like moon tide.
The hand that pulled him from illusions in the Fate Trace Tower.
The obsession he never dared ask about.
—
Xuán Chén stilled the hourglass.
His gaze returned to the pages.
His thoughts stirred—
Then fell silent.
—
He'd never spoken of his past.
No need.
The severed fragments,
Unsolved deadlocks—
Still lurking in the dark,
Waiting for the day they'd confront him.
—
He looked toward the outer court's gray walls.
Talisman breath rippled faintly—
Probing the dorm's perimeter.
No one dared approach.
But he saw the flicker of figures vanish.
Silver Mirror again.
—
Xiǎo Chén noticed—
"What is it?"
—
Xuán Chén's voice was calm—
"They're still circling."
"Silver Mirror won't let go."
—
Xiǎo Chén's lips curled coldly.
Spear intent shimmered—
"Good."
"After the inner court trials—
We'll see who really deserves to stay."
—
He rested briefly.
But couldn't let go of the conversation.
Eventually,
He rose—
And quietly returned to Sword Hall.
—
The courtyard was dark.
Only moonlight remained.
Shī Tóngbǎi was still training alone.
One sword.
One form.
Repeating Xuānyuán Dié's teachings.
Stumbling.
Sweating.
His shadow trembled.
—
Xiǎo Chén watched from the dark.
Said nothing.
Just shook his head.
He placed a hidden pouch of spirit stones
On the rack where Shī Tóngbǎi hung his sword.
—
If you've got life—
You fight to keep it.
—
Shī Tóngbǎi gritted his teeth.
Shoulders aching.
Still repeating every move.
Just a bit more…
Hold on a bit longer…
—
Until he collapsed.
Sword lowered.
He fell asleep on the ground.
Sweat untouched.
—
Moonlight fell on his back.
Cold.
But peaceful.
—
Inside the hall,
The lamps still burned.
Xuānyuán Dié stood behind the sliding door,
Watching through the crack.
—
Her gaze was cold.
But she said nothing.
Just a quiet thought—
At least he's got some spine.
—
She turned.
Her robe brushed the floor.
A whisper—
"If he doesn't rot—
I can shape him."
—
At dawn,
Shī Tóngbǎi stirred awake.
He blinked—
Saw the pouch of spirit stones beside him.
Paused.
Then smiled quietly.
He hugged it to his chest.
Whispered—
"Senior brother…"
"I remember."
—
He stepped out of Sword Hall's outer court,
Sword in hand, ready for morning drills.
But then—
A surge in his dantian.
Qi bubbled like a hidden spring.
The bottleneck of Form Trace loosened—
As if something had nudged it open.
He hesitated.
Should he break through now?
—
Just then,
Xuānyuán Dié stepped out from the main hall.
She glanced at him.
Her voice was cold—
But unmistakably permissive—
"Skip class today."
"I'll inform Elder Gǔ."
"Stay in Sword Hall."
"Break through."
—
She walked away.
Her back sharp and clean.
—
Shī Tóngbǎi bowed deeply.
Lowered his voice—
"Thank you, Teacher Xuānyuán."
—
He pulled out the half-full pouch.
Fingers trembling.
Turned back into the hall.
Sat cross-legged.
His breath flowed in and out—
A whirlpool driving spirit into the bottleneck.
—
Soon—
A muffled roar echoed from within Sword Hall.
Like thunder beneath a tree.
Outside,
Old trees shed a few fresh leaves.
—
At that same moment—
Deep within the academy.
Gǔ Líng sat in the Headmaster's chamber.
Incense smoke curled gently.
—
Midway through—
The smoke swelled.
As if an unseen pulse had scattered its lines.
—
Gǔ Líng opened his eyes slightly.
Watched the drifting incense.
A faint smile touched his lips.
His voice was calm—
"…Worth the wait."
—
He closed his eyes again.
The room returned to stillness.
Only the incense remained.
As if nothing had happened.
—
Elsewhere, in a distant classroom—
Xuán Chén sat with eyes closed, sensing.
Talisman breath flickered at his fingertips.
A faint smile crossed his brow—
"He broke through."
—
Xiǎo Chén looked up from copying ancient pages—
"Who broke?"
—
Xuán Chén's voice was like night wind—
"Shī Tóngbǎi."
"Form broken.
Guard established."
—
Xiǎo Chén jolted—
"What?"
—
From the front row,
Gǔ Gēngmò turned—
"Xiǎo Chén, something unclear?"
—
Xiǎo Chén scratched his head,
Grinned sheepishly—
"No, Elder Gǔ.
I figured it out."
—
Gǔ Gēngmò snorted,
Returned to drawing talisman diagrams on the board.
—
Xiǎo Chén leaned toward Xuán Chén, whispering—
"Brother…
That stash wasn't wasted."
"At this pace—
He'll make it before the inner court trials, right?"
—
Xuán Chén tapped the desk lightly—
"Depends if he dares to fight."
"Besides me—
Others may sense this opening."
"Whether Silver Mirror and White Profound Society bite—
Depends on their nerve."
—
Xiǎo Chén narrowed his eyes.
A cold grin tugged his lips—
"After class, I'll sweep the outer court."
"If anyone's tailing us—
Let them chase the wrong trail."
—
Xuán Chén chuckled.
His hourglass spun silently.
Voice calm—
"Chaos is welcome."
"Only in chaos—
Do true faces show."
—
After class,
Xiǎo Chén headed toward Sword Hall.
Xuán Chén reached the courtyard wall—
Saw Dù Jīn skulking, glancing around nervously.
—
When Xuán Chén turned,
Dù Jīn flinched.
Muttered—
"Why me…"
—
Xuán Chén raised a brow.
Said nothing.
Dù Jīn approached reluctantly.
Voice low, words rushed—
"Inner court trials—
Start in one month."
"Top twenty freshmen—
Must be notified by Enforcement Hall."
"Can't have anyone claim they weren't told…"
"This is yours."
—
He handed over a red-sealed envelope.
Like it might explode.
—
Xuán Chén spun his hourglass.
Spoke calmly—
"I know."
—
Dù Jīn backed away.
Forced a smile—
"Just don't cause trouble…"
"If someone dies—
I'm not cleaning it up."
—
—
At Sword Hall,
Xiǎo Chén arrived.
Xuānyuán Dié stood with hands behind her back.
She looked at Shī Tóngbǎi, just finishing his sword form,
Then at Xiǎo Chén.
Her voice was cold,
But final—
"One month from now."
"Inner court selection."
"Go or don't—your choice."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi clutched his pouch.
Still dazed.
Murmured—
"Really going to the inner court…"
"Can I really make it…"
—
Xuānyuán Dié snorted.
Sword intent trembled beneath her sleeve.
She turned toward the inner court.
Left behind a whisper—
"Only the true are chosen."
"No room for waste."
"If you fail—
Don't come back to Sword Hall."
"I don't train trash."
"I don't keep trash."
"I'll clean it myself—
To avoid disgrace."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi inhaled sharply.
About to speak—
But Xiǎo Chén clapped his shoulder first.
Grinned—
"You heard her."
"If we don't make it—
She'll clean us up herself."
"Don't worry."
"We're all getting in."
"No one's losing face."
—
Shī Tóngbǎi flushed red.
Lowered his head.
But inside, he muttered—
If I mess up—
I'm dead.
Doesn't matter if I flinch or charge—
It's a blade either way.
Damn it—
I'm all in.