Chapter 91: Reunion

"Yun Zhang’s" training method leaned toward the barbaric.

She would offer a few pointers, beat Zora until she had no strength to fight back, and then offer a few more pointers while Zora lay there. The injuries were severe, but effective.

"Yun Zhang": "Once you can integrate spiritual energy and sword Qi into one, it will be time to create your own sword style. If that time comes, what will you name it?"

Zora stared at her.

"Yun Zhang" had been smiling mockingly, but under that persistent gaze, the smile gradually faltered.

Zora: "I'll call it the Zora Sword Style."

"Yun Zhang": "...You haven't a shred of literary grace."

Zora pondered for a moment longer, then said: "The Fallen Flower Sword Style."

The "Fallen Flower" from

Fallen flowers, how many are known

—the name her mother had written incorrectly.

"...Though I'd like to say the name of a style should relate to the nature of the sword Qi—a sharp one getting a bloodthirsty name, and so on... but whatever."

"Yun Zhang" wore a smile. Even as a wisp of a soul, her residual sword Qi was carved into her very essence, awe-inspiring and vigorous.

Zora remained lying on the ground, saying honestly: "I can't move."

"Yun Zhang" said nonchalantly: "It doesn't matter. This is a secret realm."

Climbing upward was bound to be bitter; the benefit of the secret realm was that it allowed you to endure infinite bitterness without pause. So-called rapid growth in strength required a double payment of blood and sweat. With the displacement of time and "Yun Zhang's" tutelage providing the right conditions, all that was left was for Zora to fall and rise, again and again.

"Yun Zhang" seemed to reminisce, smiling: "I was like this back then too. There was never a moment when it didn't hurt, but it doesn't matter—"

Her eyes narrowed as she met the girl’s clear amber pupils. Zora seemed to have no perception of suffering; her patience was incredibly high. Like a cloud, no matter how she was suppressed, she remained floating.

She was not like Yun Zhang at all.

Zora’s mindset for revenge remained as clear as a cloudless sky. She would only fixate on her goal, undistracted, driven by her straightforward thoughts and sorrows to commit acts of killing and vengeance.

But Yun Zhang was an exceptionally arrogant person. When she killed, she would laugh heartily. After Luo Jin’s death, she moved on quickly and completely, putting it behind her. Her decision to build the December Sect felt more like a passing convenience to help Floating Cloud Valley rebuild; she never thought of helping long-term. Her eyes held only enemies, blood, and the sword.

But Zora was different. Even after Liyu’s death, Zora would occasionally think of her. There was no excessive grief; rather, it was like the hazy, gentle moonlight enveloping her thoughts, remembering her with the indifference of a flowing stream. Zora was as naive as a young beast, yet she had a heart that beat and longed at a frequency she didn't even recognize.

A faint, gentle heart.

"Is she here again? Let me see, let me see."

"Don't push me!"

Inside Drunken Lu Bay, several idle cultivators crowded together, peering toward the Bright Mirror Sea—an area strictly forbidden to ordinary cultivators. The array masters had mended the seals, and years of improvements were enough to restabilize the area. While most cultivators couldn't recklessly approach the sea, watching from a distance was allowed.

The person who had caused the biggest stir in recent years was naturally the spear-wielder Vane, who had defeated countless demonic cultivators. Over the decades, various events had occurred in the cultivation world. For some reason, the Sword Sovereign had remained in seclusion; the burden was carried instead by Vane, Song Zhihuai, and Turi Qi of the December Sect. They grew rapidly and soon gained well-earned reputations.

Compared to the green disciples they once were, they had now become the powerful cultivators known throughout the cultivation world. Everyone in Drunken Lu Bay knew that Vane, whose age seemed forever frozen between youth and manhood, would come to the Bright Mirror Sea at regular intervals.

Young disciples newly entered the sect would scramble to watch him, yet no one dared to step forward. Like watching a celebrity to break the monotony of their studies, they grew excited as the youth in black arrived as scheduled.

"I heard Vane's spear emits a thin, ominous red mist because he's killed so many demons, to the point it was almost mistaken for a demonic weapon. Is that true?"

"Probably, right?"

The two discussed this, then pivoted to the two Senior Sisters named Yiling in Drunken Lu Bay, chatting about everything under the sun, causing the person beside them who was about to speak to shut their mouth. He had intended to argue that a weapon is most influenced by its master's state of mind, but the topic had moved on, so he had to swallow his words.

Only new disciples were interested in Vane's visits to the Bright Mirror Sea. Other disciples had long since grown accustomed to his behavior. Though they didn't know the specific reason, many speculated it was to commemorate a "companion" who had died.

It wasn't certain, as Senior Sister Yiling Ke of Drunken Lu Bay had once blurted out that it wasn't a "companion" at all, but his "Master," which scared several Immortals into covering her mouth, fearing the word would spread and offend Vane.

"How could it be a 'Master'? Vane is a decent enough person, but his movements when killing demons are anything but gentle. And everyone in their sect knows Vane doesn't even fully listen to his own teacher."

"Vane must be the strongest disciple of the Sword Gate in their sect. No one can match him."

"Naturally."

The December Sect was famous for producing martial cultivators, and Vane, standing at the head of the Sword Gate, naturally had few rivals in the cultivation world. He was a genius, yet no one doubted his hard work. He ascended with a mad upward drive, as if a bird of prey were chasing him. Gritting his teeth and stained with blood, he climbed to his high position step by step. He had encountered countless schemes and crises along the way, with the danger of perishing around every corner, yet he had endured every single time.

By the Bright Mirror Sea, the youth stood still, looking down as he flipped through a book on the craft of building mechanical devices. The sunlight spilled over him. His high ponytail hung quietly. His features were more mature than decades ago, yet they were caught between youth and manhood; to anyone, he appeared as a handsome youth with cold, sharp features.

However, his stature was taller, no less striking than those enticing young men, even carrying the sharpness and hidden ferocity formed by years of cultivation. This left the youth's frame without the raw quality of true adolescence. Combined, he was like an ancient sword in its scabbard; you couldn't see the blade, but you knew the indifference on the surface and the deep, restless ferocity hidden within.

The Snow-Mud Fish in the jade pendant at his waist had become a black fish soaked in ink, motionless.

It had only happened a few years ago. Vane, missing her too much, had lost his composure and logic one night. Forgetting his original reason for keeping the Snow-Mud Fish in his storage bag, he had taken it out. The fish saw the outside world for the first time in ages, but the moment it touched his hand, the fish—which was still mostly transparent—instantly turned into an ink-fish. It flicked its tail, the dense black appearing as if it could squeeze out ink with a single pinch.

Vane watched it quietly for a long while before saying: "It is of no use anymore." He didn't throw away the Snow-Mud Fish that no longer functioned; instead, he wore it often.

The youth quietly turned to the next page amidst the sound of the waves. Suddenly, an array master shouted: "The tide is rising!"

"The seal is fine!"

"That's—"

The seawater split down the center to form a path, with surging walls of water on either side. This path led to an unknown depth, though not to the area within the seal, so there were no array obstacles. Vane snapped his eyes up, staring intently for a moment. While the array masters were still speculating what this was, he shrunk the earth and stepped into the water path in the blink of an eye.

An array master was aghast: "Fellow Daoist Vane! It's dangerous!"

A cultivator who finally recalled the events of years ago froze on the spot, stammering: "I... I remember this. It's the secret realm from decades ago, on the back of the Bright Mirror Sea seal."

"What?! Then this path leads to—"

...

Ignoring the noise outside, Vane did not use the "shrinking the earth" technique once he entered the water path. Instead, he approached step by step. It was hard to say what his thoughts were. His heart was actually very calm. He was used to calm; even knowing he might see her, it beat with a habitual, steady rhythm.

But his body had already walked over.

After a while, amidst a deathly silence, a familiar yet strange boundary appeared before him, then the piles of corpses, and the entrance to the secret realm. The youth's heart beat steadily, yet his dark eyes were fixed on the entrance. His pupils, usually indifferent even toward enemies, were now filled with a single, obsessive emotion, making his already pitch-black eyes appear even darker.

He thought of nothing. His state of mind was a blank space. His fingertips dug into his palm. Dark Dust, having already entered his spiritual platform, was tense.

Zora was startled the moment she emerged, almost thinking an enemy she had made somewhere had come to wait for her. She blinked and realized it was Vane. He was several degrees more mature than before, while the girl from the secret realm had grown more slowly than he had.

Zora stepped over the corpses and out of the boundary. She stood still in front of Vane, looking curiously at his tense, cold face. She didn't know why he was motionless, his expression appearing frozen, with only his eyes staring at her and following her movements.

She looked up at his face. Her long-lost heartbeat accelerated slightly, giving rise to a feeling of joy. In the secret realm, she had occasionally thought of Vane's convenience, but only once had she thought simply of him as a person. Therefore, that brief moment of longing had left a profound impression in her heart.

Should one give a greeting after a reunion? Or a hug?

Zora thought for a moment and, following her heart, reached out and hugged him. she even pinned his hanging arms along with him, clinging to him like a sloth to a tree. She tilted her face up, her chin resting on his chest, her almond eyes staring at him.

"..."

Vane, held by the soft girl, could only look at the top of her head, his entire body stiff. Zora was very polite: "Long time no see—though I don't know how long it’s been, but long time no see."

His chest was broader, and his breathing seemed a bit more pronounced than before, making it even more comfortable. Vane did not speak; there was only a deathly silence.

Zora let go of his arms and checked Vane’s cultivation level.

Mhm, no threat; her progress was correct. Relieved, Zora asked cautiously: "You must have learned to shrink the earth by now, right?"

Regardless of the boy’s abnormal silence since his arrival, Zora walked behind him. Vane turned his head to look at her. She used his back as a rack and slowly climbed up. As she hooked her arms around his neck, the youth instinctively lifted his hands to hold the back of her thighs, assuming the posture of carrying her on his back.

Zora had just been trained once by "Yun Zhang" before coming out, and her mental fatigue had not vanished. She leaned naturally against his shoulder and commanded: "Use 'shrinking the earth.' Hurry back to the sect. I want to rest for a day. You go tell Senior Sister Turi and the others I'm back, then wait for the second day for me to go catch up on reunion greetings."

It was as if the decades of separation had never existed; she commanded him naturally. Seeing that Vane didn't respond, she noticed he hadn't spoken since they met. She frowned and gently tugged his ponytail.

Zora asked seriously: "Have you become a mute?"

It wasn't impossible; what if he had encountered some danger? Luckily he hadn't become blind, Zora thought.

"...No." The youth finally seemed to react, changing from a dead object back into a living person. He spoke, and his voice was a bit more mature than before, yet it still carried a pleasant, clear youthful air. Since he was only now speaking, it was very dry, but it grew smoother as he continued. "I haven't become a mute."

"Then what are you doing?" Zora leaned off his shoulder to look at his profile. Vane pursed his lips, turned his head, and lowered it to avoid her gaze.

Zora unpleasantly grabbed the light hair at his forehead: "What are you doing?"

"...Sorry." Vane finally turned back, but did not lift his eyes. His shell was still extremely beautiful; his lashes obscured his dark eyes, and the corners of his eyes held a trace of light red.

Zora said with wonder: "You're crying again."

"..." Vane was silent for a moment, then lifted his eyes. They were only glazed with a single layer of moisture, which he quickly suppressed. "I am not."

Zora: "How long was I gone?"

Vane said softly: "...Sorry. I don't know. I didn't count."

From the moment she left, he had stopped paying attention to anything related to time. The years, the length of her absence—he would not think of or remember any of it. It had no meaning. One day or one year—what meaning was there? To him, there was no difference.

In a state of muddled existence, no matter how long she was gone, it didn't matter. Since he was waiting without looking back, there was no need to obsess over time. Time had already lost its meaning; it flowed slowly past without staying in his heart. The days apart were all the same, numb and unrecognizable.

He would only remember the day she left, the "one day" without Zora, and this day of their reunion. In his view, only three days had passed.

Vane tilted his head, staring fixedly at Zora. She was leaning on his shoulder, her chin resting against him, her brow lightly furrowed—as adorable as he remembered. He watched her in silence, calmly, yet with extreme focus.

His soul, abandoned for decades, seemed to finally catch up with his body. His heart broke the ice tardily, coming to life and beating heavily, seemingly making his blood turn scalding—so hot his veins ached and his skin trembled minutely. A dead thing that had been stagnant for decades suddenly had life once more.

Vane did not move, maintaining his focus on the surface, unwilling to look away. Zora wouldn't understand the twists and turns in the youth's heart, much less notice his strange silence now, or the odd emotion swirling around him. That emotion was as thick and impenetrable as a cocoon; calm on the surface, but seemingly bubbling and boiling within.

After a moment, the girl instead offered a sincere suggestion: "Then count them now."

Vane was silent for a while, then spoke: "...I can't count them all."

Zora let out a sigh, seemingly thinking his brain had become a bit unintelligent.

"Then let's go back to the sect first. While I'm resting, you go ask."

"Okay."