"Show me what you've learned so far."
Qin Shaoqing stepped to the opposite side of the courtyard, positioning himself squarely in front of Sushang.
"W-Wait—! I'm fighting Teacher?" Sushang blurted out, momentarily panicking.
"Haha, don't worry," Qin Shaoqing said calmly. "I won't attack you, nor will I use any fancy footwork."
He placed both hands behind his back and waited, utterly relaxed.
Hearing that, Sushang finally calmed down. If she had to deal with illusionary figures and misleading sounds again, she didn't even want to imagine the outcome.
She took a deep breath.
Her eyes sharpened.
Without hesitation, she closed the distance.
Upward cut—followed by an overhead slash.
Qin Shaoqing's newly acquired Absolute Sword Sense activated instantly. The sword's trajectory unfolded before his eyes as clear lines in space, precise and unavoidable—if he were slower.
He shifted slightly to the side.
Both strikes passed harmlessly through empty air.
Without pause, Sushang pressed on.
Vertical slash into a horizontal sweep.
Again, Qin Shaoqing stepped just outside the sword's path, the blade missing him by a hair's breadth.
The exchange continued.
One minute passed.
Then another.
Finally, Qin Shaoqing raised a hand.
"Stop."
Sushang halted immediately, standing at attention.
"…Sigh." Qin Shaoqing rubbed his temple. "Where do I even start?"
He could see everything that was wrong—every imbalance, every inefficiency—but there were simply too many flaws to address at once.
Sushang faintly heard his mutter, and her heart sank.
She had trained for years. Yet in front of her Teacher, every move felt transparent, predictable… trivial.
Her pride stung.
Then she caught herself.
Pride?
If she clung to something so useless, she'd never grow.
She lowered her head slightly, steadying her breathing.
Qin Shaoqing finally spoke.
"I'll give you two options."
His tone was calm, serious.
"You can either discard your foundation entirely—or fix it."
Sushang stiffened.
"U-Um… Teacher," she asked hesitantly, "could you explain what both mean?"
Embarrassment crept into her voice. She felt she should have understood already.
Qin Shaoqing smiled.
'If I'm teaching her… I might as well do it properly.'
"Never be afraid to ask, Sushang," he said gently. "I'm your Teacher. It's my responsibility to explain what you don't understand."
The tension in her shoulders eased immediately.
"If you discard your foundation," he continued, "you forget everything you've learned so far. Cloud Knight swordsmanship is solid—but it doesn't suit your body."
"And if I fix it?"
"I'll correct every flaw," Qin Shaoqing said. "Every slash, every stance, every instinct."
Sushang swallowed. "What do you recommend, Teacher?"
He considered briefly.
"Discard it."
She blinked.
"The Cloud Knight style is too standardized," he explained. "Against a knowledgeable opponent, it's easy to read—and easy to counter."
Sushang stepped forward.
"I understand." Her voice was firm. "Then I'll discard it."
There was no hesitation.
No journey is without hardship.
The words from Legend of the Silver Wind echoed in her heart.
Qin Shaoqing nodded approvingly and fell into deep thought.
He replayed every movement she had made during the exchange.
Her physique was light. Her reactions were fast. Yet she wielded a sword meant for someone heavier, stronger—someone built to endure prolonged clashes.
For her, that weapon was a burden.
Light. Fast. Precise.
A longsword would suit her far better.
Absolute Sword Sense supplied the data. His memory filled in the rest.
"Sushang," he asked, "do you own a longsword?"
"No, Teacher," she replied. "This sword was passed down through my family."
She presented the heavy blade she had been using.
"…I see."
Qin Shaoqing turned and pointed toward a bamboo stalk growing in the courtyard.
"Cut that."
"Ah—yes!"
She raised her sword and brought it down cleanly. The bamboo fell with a crisp snap.
"Now cut it here."
She followed his direction, trimming it to a manageable length.
Qin Shaoqing picked it up, retrieved a small knife, and began working.
He carved the handle slimmer, reinforced the hollow interior with sand, and carefully balanced the weight along the length—packing it tightly to mimic the feel of a real longsword.
It wasn't perfect.
But it would do.
Buying a proper weapon was ideal—but his finances said otherwise.
"Teacher… what are you doing?" Sushang asked, curiosity written all over her face.
"Making you a sword," Qin Shaoqing replied. "That heavy blade doesn't suit you."
He handed her the bamboo longsword.
"Try it."
She set her family sword aside and took the bamboo weapon.
At first, the grip felt strange. But after a few swings, her movements began to smooth out.
Whoosh.
The air howled with every swing, thick bamboo cutting resistance loudly.
"How does it feel?" Qin Shaoqing asked.
"It's lighter," she said honestly. "But… awkward."
"The wind resistance," he nodded. "Ignore it. How does your arm feel after a swing?"
"…Fine," she said, surprised.
"That's the point."
With a lighter weapon, she could strike faster, recover quicker, and maintain her stance instead of dragging her blade low after every exchange.
"Now," Qin Shaoqing said, "swing again."
The day passed quietly.
Instruction turned into practice. Practice turned into instinct.
By the time they noticed, the sky had begun to darken.
Seeing the hour, Qin Shaoqing offered to cook her a meal—but she politely declined, saying she'd eat on her own.
He didn't insist.
As she prepared to leave, he added one last reminder.
"Request a longsword from the Cloud Knight Commission."
Sushang paused, then nodded.
She hadn't received her official weapon yet.
Which meant she could still request one—free of charge.
With renewed determination, she bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Teacher."
Qin Shaoqing watched her leave, exhaling softly.
"…I really hope this doesn't spiral out of control."
Somewhere in the galaxy, an Aeon laughed.