Chapter 72 – Echoes of Steel
The next dawn came with an edge of unease. The memorial had ended, but tension lingered like the aftertaste of bitter tea. Lin Xuan rose early, the Celestial Unity Crest humming faintly in his chest, and made his way to the training ground.
There he found Liu Yue already practicing, her blade flashing under the morning light. Her form was graceful but raw, more emotion than technique. Sweat clung to her temples, and frustration tightened her jaw.
"You grip too tightly," Lin Xuan said from behind her. "The blade isn't a lifeline—it's an extension."
She startled, then flushed. "I… I wanted to improve quickly."
He stepped beside her, adjusting her hands gently on the hilt. "Then learn patience. Power grows like roots, not storms."
She tried again. This time her swing carried fluidity, though her balance faltered at the end. Lin Xuan caught her wrist, steadying her. "Better," he murmured. "Now again."
From the sidelines, Anika appeared, carrying a tray with tea. "I thought sparring required steel, not sermons." Her tone was teasing, but her eyes softened as she watched the two of them move together, their qi harmonizing with each clash and step.
Lin Xuan exhaled, then stepped back. "Enough solo practice. Face me."
Her eyes widened. "Against you? I'll lose immediately."
"You will," he admitted, "but you'll learn faster than with shadows."
The spar ignited. Lin Xuan moved with measured restraint, each strike pushing Liu Yue to her limit but never breaking her spirit. She staggered, recovered, lunged again, her determination sparking brighter with each failure. The clash of steel and qi filled the training ground until her body trembled with exhaustion.
At last, Lin Xuan knocked her blade aside with a flick of his jade-coated wrist. She fell to one knee, panting heavily. He did not gloat, only nodded. "Good. You lasted longer than yesterday."
She looked up, cheeks flushed with more than fatigue. "Will I ever stand beside you, Brother Xuan?"
He paused, then answered truthfully. "If you continue like this, you may one day surpass me."
Her breath caught, and a faint smile curved her lips. Anika's laughter rang softly from the side. "Careful, husband. Words like that plant seeds."
Later that day, Lin Xuan met with Ji Yunjing near the clan gates. The older cultivator stood guard with quiet vigilance, his posture straight as a spear.
"You held back yesterday," Ji Yunjing said, without preamble.
"I gave her what she needed," Lin Xuan replied.
"And what do you need?" Ji Yunjing's eyes narrowed. "Power? Loyalty? Or perhaps… forgiveness?"
Lin Xuan did not answer immediately. His gaze drifted over the horizon, where the Southern Lands stretched wild and untamed. "I need Dawnriver to endure. Whatever price that demands."
Ji Yunjing studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Then I will stand here until it does."
It was not a pledge of friendship, nor even approval. But it was enough. In this land, loyalty often came not from oaths but from silent action.
Night fell, and the family gathered once more in the courtyard. This time, there was no incense, no mourning. Only quiet companionship beneath the stars. Lin Xuan sat with Anika, Liu Yue, and little Liu Yang as Luo Shuang poured tea.
Anika told a story from her youth—about a night spent lost in a forest, when her elder brother had guided her back by singing through the darkness. Her voice grew softer as she spoke, and though she smiled, her eyes glimmered faintly.
When the tale ended, silence lingered. Then Liu Yang tugged at her sleeve. "Sister Anika, will you sing for us too?"
Anika laughed lightly, brushing his hair back. "Another night, perhaps."
But Lin Xuan watched her closely, the weight of unanswered questions pressing heavier than before. Who was this elder brother she spoke of? What ties bound her so deeply to secrets she refused to share? The more he learned, the less he knew.
Still, when Anika's hand found his beneath the starlight, he did not pull away. For now, trust was enough—even if the truth remained veiled.