Chapter 22:The meaning of Qin

The atmosphere in Jinghong Hall plummeted to a freezing point with Qing Wan’s silent tears and Shu Yue’s abrupt departure.

Fleeing to the peak’s summit, Shu Yue stood against the cold wind, trying to unravel the tangled mess in her heart, but to little avail.

Forcing herself to calm down, she began reassessing the situation.

Qing Wan’s emotions, far from being suppressed, had grown more complex due to the Blackwind Ravine rescue and the medicine-feeding incident. Further provocation would be unwise; a cooling-off period was needed to let her process things herself.

As for Wan Qing, the “comfort zone” recently established needed reinforcement—perhaps even escalation.

‘Right, that’s it. Focus on drawing closer to Wan Qing, making it clear to everyone—especially Qing Wan—what type of person I, Luyue Fairy, admire!’

‘It’s Wan Qing, the gentle and refined fairy, not some reckless, boundary-crossing girl!’

With her mind made up, Shu Yue decided to take the initiative.

The next day, under the pretext of “thanking Wan Qing for yesterday’s healing aid,” she sent a formal invitation to Miaoyin Pavilion’s residence, inviting Wan Qing to Jinghong Peak for tea and discussion on the Dao.

Wan Qing accepted gladly.

Today, she wore a flowing, cloud-like dress that complemented Jinghong Peak’s austere beauty.

She brought not ordinary tea but rare “Mist-Hidden Spirit Tea Leaves,” imbued with pure spiritual energy and calming properties. As soon as she presented them, a refreshing fragrance filled the air, uplifting the spirit.

Though Shu Yue cared little for indulgences, she recognized their value and softened her tone. “Nephew, you’ve gone to great lengths.”

They sat in the Bamboo-Listening Pavilion beside Jinghong Hall.

Shu Yue personally brewed the tea. Her movements, marked by a sword cultivator’s precision, lacked Wan Qing’s elegance but held a unique charm.

Amid the curling tea fragrance, their conversation naturally shifted from tea to the interplay of music and swordsmanship.

Wan Qing’s voice was soft yet insightful. “I’ve heard Elder’s sword intent is cold and desolate. I venture to guess its core is not destruction but an ultimate ‘stillness’ and ‘purity.’”

“It’s akin to the ‘silent sound’ in music—where silence reveals the greatest melody. Miaoyin Pavilion has a secret technique, Empty Mountain Cloud-Converging Melody, not a stirring tune but one of profound stillness, cleansing the soul and refining spiritual sense. It may share a kindred spirit with Elder’s sword intent…”

Her words were eloquent, citing classics with depth, not mere flattery but a genuine exchange.

She offered inspired ideas, attempting to align music’s “stillness” with the “desolation” of sword intent.

Shu Yue, initially driven by her goal to “boost favorability,” found herself drawn in, occasionally responding—not just with her usual “mm” or “oh,” but with pointed remarks or questions that hit the mark.

‘I didn’t expect her to have such insight into swordsmanship… I underestimated her.’

Unconsciously, Shu Yue condensed a faint wisp of sword intent at her fingertip, tracing a subtle arc on the stone table in response to Wan Qing’s description of a musical node.

Wan Qing’s eyes lit up with delight. “Exactly! Elder grasps it instantly! By mimicking sword intent’s flow with musical vibrations, one might more intuitively perceive its mysteries…”

As she spoke, she extended her finger, a delicate ripple of spiritual energy flowing from it, gently touching Shu Yue’s faint sword intent.

Hum…

A soft resonance, piercing to the soul, echoed.

Both paused, startled.

Shu Yue felt the tranquil purity in Wan Qing’s spiritual ripple, distinct from her own sword intent’s cold desolation, yet oddly unresistant, even complementary.

Wan Qing sensed the sharp purity in Shu Yue’s sword intent, her heart trembling, her gaze on Shu Yue now tinged with genuine admiration and… a trace of unspoken yearning.

This Elder Luyue was indeed as powerful and pure as the rumors.

Their eyes met, a subtle understanding flowing in the air.

Wan Qing lowered her gaze, a faint blush on her cheeks, her voice softer. “Discussing the Dao with Elder has been immensely rewarding for Wan Qing.”

Shu Yue, seeing her flushed cheeks and admiring eyes, felt a satisfaction from her plan’s success.

‘She’s… more interesting than I thought.’

“You’re too modest, Nephew. Your insights have also enlightened me.”

Shu Yue’s rare praise carried weight.

This harmonious scene of “tea and discourse, shared resonance” wasn’t concealed, naturally catching the eyes of certain observers.

Chu Yi, sent to deliver common healing salve, saw the pavilion’s scene from afar—his Master and Fairy Wan Qing sitting together, their atmosphere congenial, even with signs of spiritual interplay. He couldn’t help but marvel.

‘Master and Fairy Wan Qing are truly kindred spirits, both peerless talents, able to connect so deeply.’

Qing Wan, struggling from her bed to get some air, witnessed the moment their fingertips met. Her face paled, her nails digging into her palms, yet she felt no pain—only a suffocating ache in her chest.

‘As expected… they belong to the same world…’

She retreated silently to the shadowed corner of the hall, as if she’d never appeared.

Through a water-mirror technique, Liu Qingxu saw this and smashed a cherished tea set in rage!

Shu Yue wasn’t oblivious to Qing Wan’s reaction but deliberately ignored it, doubling down on her “kindness” toward Wan Qing.

In the days that followed, she even invited Wan Qing to observe her sword practice.

Of course, from a designated safe distance.

When Shu Yue practiced, her focus was absolute, her sword intent piercing, her form like a fleeting swan, each strike carrying a cold beauty.

Wan Qing watched quietly, her gaze focused, filled with pure appreciation and insight.

Afterward, she offered unique perspectives from a musical angle, sometimes prompting Shu Yue to pause in thought.

In return, Wan Qing would play a zither piece for Shu Yue post-practice.

The lingering notes soothed the mind, easing the tension of cultivation.

Shu Yue grew accustomed to Wan Qing’s presence.

Her gentle, considerate nature, her intelligence, and her unobtrusive companionship seeped in like warm water, slowly enveloping her.

‘Being with Wan Qing is… effortless and pleasant. If the favorability target were her, maybe… it wouldn’t be unacceptable?’

‘At least it’s much safer!’

She even began to think that leaning into the sect’s expectation of “Luyue Fairy befriending Miaoyin Pavilion’s genius” might be a viable survival strategy.

It would placate the sect, make Qing Wan give up, and let her enjoy a comfortable relationship.

One day, after finishing a piece, Wan Qing looked at Shu Yue, whose icy aura had softened slightly as she meditated. “Elder seems weary lately. Is there a bottleneck in your cultivation?”

Shu Yue opened her eyes, surprised by her perceptiveness. After a moment, she didn’t conceal it. “Mm. The barrier to late Golden Core is loosening, but my restless mind hinders a focused breakthrough.”

Wan Qing replied softly, “If Elder permits, Wan Qing could try the full Empty Mountain Cloud-Converging Melody. It demands much mental energy but may stabilize the soul and aid a breakthrough. However… it requires an absolutely quiet, undisturbed setting.”

Her words carried a clear hint.

Shu Yue’s heart stirred.

‘Aiding a breakthrough? An unexpected boon.’

Glancing at Wan Qing’s clear, gentle eyes brimming with sincerity, she weighed the option and nodded. “Very well. Let’s go to my meditation chamber.”

She rose, leading Wan Qing to a heavily guarded secret chamber behind Jinghong Hall.

This was her private retreat, never opened to others—except Qing Wan.

Following Shu Yue’s aloof figure, Wan Qing felt the weight of this rare trust, her lips curving into a faint, genuine smile.

The stone door closed, sealing out all noise.

Ethereal zither notes, like tangible ripples, flowed through the chamber, filling it with a serene resonance.

The melody carried a strange power, calming restless spiritual energy and soothing tangled thoughts.

Seated on a cushion, Shu Yue felt her days of agitation gradually subside, her mind settling toward the elusive breakthrough.

Glancing at Wan Qing, fully immersed in playing, sweat beading on her brow, Shu Yue felt a faint gratitude—or perhaps acknowledgment.

‘Maybe… this really isn’t bad.’

Outside the chamber, Jinghong Peak stirred.

Chu Yi, hearing his Master was in seclusion for a breakthrough with Wan Qing as her protector, was thrilled and expectant.

Liu Qingxu, consumed by envy, could only curse silently.

Qing Wan, hearing the faint, soul-soothing yet piercing zither notes from the chamber, felt her last flicker of hope extinguish.

The Elder’s world no longer needed her, this redundant speck of dust.

She returned to her small room, gripping her ordinary iron sword, diving into frenzied, self-destructive cultivation.

Only the body’s extreme pain could mask the heart-wrenching despair.

Within the chamber, the zither notes soared, the atmosphere serene.

Outside, dark currents surged, and hearts crumbled to ash.