Chapter 2: The Girl Who Drew Her Sword for a Stranger
The mountain path down from Azure Cloud Sect was cruel: jagged stones, cold wind, and the laughter of disciples still echoing from the gates above.
Ling Xiao walked until her feet bled, then kept walking.
The Eternal Harmony Scripture circulated on its own, turning pain into wisps of pure spiritual energy that stitched her wounds closed. The system's voice was silent now; it only spoke when it had something useful to say.
By nightfall she reached Azure Mist Town at the foot of the mountain. Lanterns glowed red along the main street. Cultivators drank and boasted in the inns. Mortals hurried past with lowered eyes.
She had exactly seven low-grade spirit stones in the torn pouch at her waist: everything the sect had allowed her to keep.
Enough for one bowl of noodles and a hard bench in the common room.
She chose the cheapest inn, lowered her head so the hood hid her silver hair, and sat in the darkest corner.
The noodles tasted like ash.
Across the room, a group of outer disciples from Azure Cloud—still wearing their pale-blue robes—were laughing loudly.
"Look, that freak really left. I thought the elders would just kill her and be done with it."
"Shh, don't say that too loud. Bad luck to speak of dual-spawn after dark."
"Pfeh. If I ever see her again, I'll cut that thing off myself. Teach her what 'real' women are supposed to be."
Ling Xiao's fingers tightened around the chopsticks until they cracked.
A clear, cold voice suddenly cut through the noise like a sword leaving its sheath.
"Apologise."
Every head turned.
Standing in the doorway was a girl in pure-white robes, a longsword across her back. Her ink-black hair was tied high, her face so beautiful it seemed carved from ice. Early Foundation Establishment aura, maybe nineteen years old.
Mu Xue—Ling Xiao recognised her instantly. The famous sword genius of the inner sect, the one disciple who had looked… complicated when the elders dragged Ling Xiao away.
The loudest of the outer disciples forced a laugh. "Senior Sister Mu, this is outer disciple business. No need to—"
"I said apologise."
Mu Xue's hand rested on her sword hilt. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
The disciples went pale. They scrambled up, bowed stiffly toward Ling Xiao's corner, muttered "sorry," and fled into the night.
Silence fell.
Mu Xue paid for her room, then—to everyone's shock—walked straight to Ling Xiao's table and sat down opposite her without asking.
Up close, she was even more breathtaking. Frosty blue eyes, long lashes, lips pressed into a thin line.
"You're hurt," she said quietly, glancing at Ling Xiao's torn robes and bloody feet.
"I'm used to it." Ling Xiao's voice came out rougher than she intended.
Mu Xue pushed a small jade bottle across the table. "Golden Wound Salve. Best the sect pharmacy sells."
Ling Xiao stared at the bottle, then at her. "Why?"
Mu Xue looked away, ears faintly pink. "Because what they did was wrong. The Dao is about harmony, not… not cruelty to those born different."
Ling Xiao laughed once—soft, tired, real. "You're the first person in sixteen years to say that to my face."
She uncorked the bottle and began applying the cool salve to her feet. The pain vanished instantly.
Mu Xue watched her for a long moment, then spoke again, almost too quiet to hear.
"I… saw the mirror. I saw everything. And I thought: if the heavens made you that way, who are we to call it a mistake?"
Ling Xiao's heart did something complicated.
She capped the bottle and slid it back. "Keep it. Pretty girls shouldn't waste medicine on trash like me."
"You're not trash." The answer came immediate and fierce.
Their eyes met.
For the first time since waking up in this world, Ling Xiao felt something warm that had nothing to do with cultivation.
The system finally spoke.
[Emotional fluctuation detected. Minor Yin-Yang harmony achieved. Reward: Accelerated meridian cleansing for the next six hours.]
Ling Xiao ignored it.
She reached across the table and gently touched the back of Mu Xue's hand. "Thank you. Truly."
Mu Xue didn't pull away.
They sat like that—two girls in a crowded inn, one exiled, one untouchable—until the candles burned low.
Later, when the innkeeper said there was only one room left with a single bed (a lie born of greed—Mu Xue's aura scared him), neither of them argued.
The room was small, the bed narrow.
Mu Xue turned her back with military precision. "I'll sleep on the floor."
Ling Xiao caught her wrist. "It's cold. And I'm not fragile." A pause. "I'd… like it if you stayed."
Mu Xue's ears were scarlet now.
They lay down fully clothed, a careful handspan of space between them.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then Mu Xue whispered into the dark, "May I… ask what it feels like? Having both."
Ling Xiao turned onto her side, facing her. Moonlight through the window painted silver across Mu Xue's cheek.
"It feels like being torn in half and whole at the same time," she said softly. "Like I was born to bridge something the world insists must stay separate."
Mu Xue shifted closer, hesitant. "And… does it hurt? When people hate you for it?"
"Every day."
A cool fingertip brushed Ling Xiao's cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn't realised had fallen.
"I don't hate you," Mu Xue breathed.
Their faces were inches apart now.
Ling Xiao's heart thundered so loudly she was sure Mu Xue could hear it.
"Xue'er," she murmured—startled by her own boldness with the intimate name.
Mu Xue's eyes fluttered shut.
The kiss was soft, trembling, tasting of wound salve and unshed tears. Mu Xue's lips were cool at first, then warm, then urgent. Ling Xiao cupped the sword girl's face like she was something sacred.
When they parted, both were breathing hard.
"I've never kissed anyone before," Mu Xue confessed, voice shaking.
"Me neither. Not in this life."
Another kiss—this one slower, deeper. Mu Xue's hand slid tentatively to Ling Xiao's waist, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together.
Ling Xiao felt the exact moment Mu Xue discovered the truth of her body—felt her stiffen, then relax completely, a soft sound escaping her throat that was half wonder, half surrender.
"Is this… okay?" Mu Xue whispered against her lips.
"More than okay."
Clothes loosened. Moonlight painted soft curves and silver scars. Hands explored with reverent awe rather than lust—learning, mapping, promising.
When Ling Xiao's fingers finally slipped beneath white silk and drew a broken moan from Mu Xue's throat, the system pinged once, almost respectfully.
[Perfect Yin-Yang circulation achieved. Both parties advancing to Qi Gathering 9th layer… complete.
Foundation Establishment insight unlocked early.]
Neither of them noticed.
Much later, wrapped in each other's arms, sweat cooling on skin, Mu Xue pressed her face into Ling Xiao's neck.
"I'll protect you," she said fiercely. "No matter what."
Ling Xiao smiled into her hair. "And I'll become strong enough that one day, the entire world will have to protect you from disappointing me."
Outside, the first snow of winter began to fall.
Inside, two hearts beat in perfect, impossible harmony.
To be continued.