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Though he couldn't be sure what scheme this boy was cooking up, how could Jing Yuan possibly be so oblivious? How could he fail to understand the look in a boy barely past ten years of age?
If that were truly the case, then the title of Arbiter-General of Divine Foresight could be handed to Fu Xuan, and he himself could simply retire at home.
Thus, he no longer looked at his disciple's antics as mere childish sulking, but prepared instead to correct his worldview.
In Yanqing's eyes, his master suddenly set his face stern, his gaze sharp and unwavering.
What's wrong with Master?
The two had been together for years, and even when instructing martial skills, Jing Yuan rarely wore such a serious expression. Not even during the chaos of the Ambrosial Arbor did he fail to remain calm at the command center, handling everything with ease.
But now… why?
Yanqing unconsciously stood straighter, his movements constrained by an invisible weight pressing upon him.
Jing Yuan spoke gravely: "Yanqing, do you still remember the duty of the Cloud Knights?"
"Of course!" Yanqing replied without hesitation. "For the sake of Luofu, for the people of the Xianzhou Alliance—even if it means death on the battlefield and the end of my lifespan—it is a price I will gladly pay!"
"Exactly so." Jing Yuan nodded, affirming his answer. He walked slowly forward, his eyes sweeping across the layered rooftops of the Exalting Sanctum. His voice carried with a steady cadence: "Since the day we resolved to march against the plague of Mara-struck progenitors, the Xianzhou tore the feathers from the Wingweavers, crippled the swift hooves of the Houyhnhnm, even severed the crowned Warhead of the Borisin, shattering them once more into countless tribes, unable ever again to unite as an empire."
After briefly recounting the Xianzhou's victories over the Denizens of Abundance, Jing Yuan's gaze dimmed, his tone tinged with remembrance. "But none of these triumphs came without cost. Of the Hexafleet, three have already fallen. Fanghu and Luofu both faced annihilation, saved only by the forebears who gave their lives so the great ships could still roam the sea of stars."
"Yanqing, do you understand what I mean? If any of our predecessors had laid hands on the greatsword you now hold, would they have quibbled? Never! They would only have seized it without hesitation and charged into the next battle!"
At these words, Jing Yuan's eyes sharpened with the true authority of the Arbiter-General who held Luofu's reins.
"Yanqing, for the future of Luofu, no one dares to indulge in personal hesitation!"
Such a simple sentence struck straight into the boy's heart. At once, he recalled the fiery passion he once held when first grasping a blade.
Then he thought back to his recent lapses. He felt nothing but shame.
When he sought a sword from Yunli, though unwilling, he had to admit Yunli was right on one point: after his clash with Jingliu and being possessed by a Heliobus, his sword-heart had grown unsteady. That was why he faltered before even the smallest of setbacks.
And today as well—was he dissatisfied with the Massacre Ruler's strength? Not at all! In the past, such power would have left him elated for a full month. Yet now, because of a petty conflict, he dared to nitpick, even dreaming of troubling not one but two generals, just to erase his own tiny grievance.
Such weakness of heart—it was truly disgraceful. At this rate, in the upcoming Martial Exhibition, defeat would be certain!
At that thought, Yanqing's fists clenched so tightly the knuckles whitened, veins taut across the backs of his hands.
After a long silence, he raised his head, his gaze burning as he met Jing Yuan's eyes. He declared, "Master, I understand. A swordsman without a heart as steadfast as his blade, relying only on strength, cannot be called a swordsman at all. Today I have realized this truth—tomorrow, I will not fail your teachings!"
"Good! With such resolve, I need no longer worry for your future."
Seeing his disciple's knot untied, Jing Yuan's face returned to its usual smiling ease.
Phew~
Whatever tricks the boy had been plotting, now they were dispersed like smoke.
Heh. The Dozing General is not a blind general, Yanqing. As your master, this is for your own good. Ideally, such a breakthrough of the heart should have been reached by your own realization.
But you nearly strayed off course, nearly sought to push me into superficial displays.
I cannot afford that disgrace. Thus, I had no choice but to forcefully enlighten you, to awaken your heart.
At that thought, his eyes drifted back to the heavy sword in Yanqing's hand. He couldn't help but sigh. Humans, at times, are far more stubborn than dead objects.
Yanqing, unaware of his master's ulterior motives, was simply overjoyed at his perceived growth of spirit.
My affairs are my own to handle. Today, I'll personally visit Elder Huaiyan!
With sincerity, he was certain he could persuade the old general.
Master and disciple now both wore smiles; each satisfied with the outcome of their exchange.
The Massacre Ruler, seeing this harmonious scene, also felt glad for them—completely unaware of the fate that soon awaited it.
Had Sylvester seen this, he surely would have sighed in lament.
At first, Yanqing had gained the sword with joy, only to fall into worry, then rise in elation again before collapsing in despair. Now, just when Jing Yuan coaxed him back to smiles, the cloud of misfortune had not dispersed—it had simply shifted from the boy onto the blade itself.
And so, just as Yanqing remained oblivious to the sword's former mistress, the Massacre Ruler watched its master's blissful grin with naive contentment.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such is the way of the world—ever uncertain.
"What a warm sight of strict master and earnest disciple. It makes me feel I should find a promising seedling to inherit my own legacy."
Feixiao had been watching for some time. Smiling, she gazed upon the pair. She didn't know the true reason behind Jing Yuan's words, but what he had said was not wrong. And more importantly, it worked—Yanqing had turned back from his misguided thoughts.
Then, reflecting on her own years, she realized that though younger than Jing Yuan by centuries, with a foxian's lifespan, the years left to them both were not so different.
Would her skills truly vanish with her, lost on the battlefield one day?
The thought stirred her emotions, making her wonder, perhaps, about taking a disciple.
But alas, no suitable candidate came to mind.
"Feixiao, no need for modesty. If word spread that you were seeking a disciple, not just the Xianzhou—the entire cosmos' finest youths would come knocking at your door," Jing Yuan said lightly, hearing both her worries and her yearning.
"Indeed, General Feixiao," Yanqing quickly chimed in.
"It was but a passing thought. Those who come with ulterior motives—I'd have no interest in teaching them."
Feixiao gave a faint smile, knowing full well that such matters could not be rushed.
"Yanqing has already drawn from the trash can today. But my quota for the week is still untouched. Let me finish mine first, then we'll speak of other things." She stepped toward the trash can shop, then looked back at Jing Yuan. "Well? Care to join the fun?"
Jing Yuan returned her smile. "Since we're already here, why not? These past days, I've yet to properly meet Shopkeeper Sylvester. Today will do nicely for a visit."
The three strode together into the trash can shop.
Sylvester looked at the returning trio and thought to himself: These people really can drag things out. Just testing a sword—did it really need to take this long?