Since the shocking incident at the Sword Tomb that night, where the Zhao brothers were subdued with a single sword strike, the back mountain of the Qingyun Sect had become much quieter. However, this tranquility was tinged with an indelible fragrance of medicinal herbs.
Su Manman, using the excuse of "repaying a life-saving debt," half-forced Lin Bugui, a socially awkward swordsman, to help her at her herb hut.
The herb hut was nestled halfway up the mountain, shrouded in mist and filled with various spiritual plants. Lin Bugui stood in the courtyard, looking out of place. His heavy, black armor, amidst the tender green and white flowers and grasses, was as heavy as a rock that shouldn't exist.
"Senior Brother Lin, don't just stand there, help me crush that basket of 'Cloud Mist Grass'." Su Manman rolled up her sleeves, revealing a section of her forearm as white as a lotus root, busy turning the herbs to dry.
Lin Bugui silently took the bamboo basket. His large hands, calloused from sword use, were unusually careful as he rubbed the delicate grass leaves. "You're always so cautious." Su Manman had somehow moved closer to him, her bright almond-shaped eyes fixed on him. "Are you cautious with the sword, or with the world?" Lin Bugui lowered his eyes, avoiding her gaze. "If the sword isn't slender, life won't be long."
"But plants don't need your sword energy." Su Manman suddenly reached out and gently covered the back of his hands, which were kneading medicine.
The boy's hands stiffened abruptly, his heart skipping a beat beneath his heavy armor.
Su Manman's palm carried the fragrance and warmth of plants, a temperature completely different from the coldness of the Sword Tomb. She guided his hand, pressing gently. "You need to feel their breath. Plants may be weak, but they possess an inexhaustible life force. Your armor lacks this vitality."
As she guided him, Lin Bugui was startled to realize that when his fingertips were no longer filled with killing intent, his black armor emitted a slight tremor, like a baby suckling. The sap of the herbs stained his fingernails green, seemingly seeping into his long-parched soul along the texture of his nails.
At that moment, for the first time, Lin Bugui felt that this armor, burdened with a thousand pounds, seemed a tiny bit lighter.