Chapter Text
As Luo Binghe soaked a green robe in the river water, he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the massive pile of dirty laundry awaiting him.
At the sight of it, a single thought echoed in his mind: “It’s enough”
Luo Binghe, that poor little boy had used up a lifetime's worth of luck to enter the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect's Qing Jing Peak six months ago under the teachings of Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu. Or in simpler terms, he had been constantly mistreated for half a year.
His master had despised him from the very first moment they met. The hot cup of tea poured over his head had been proof enough for Luo Binghe to understand that Shen Qingqiu hated him.
How had he earned his Shizun’s hatred since day one? He didn't know. But that hatred had trickled down, causing the other disciples to feel exactly the same way.
Like father, like goddamn ugly sons!
Luo Binghe was hated, abused, and taken advantage of. His Shixiongs gave him tasks far too heavy for a boy who had just turned thirteen. His master handed down punishments too harsh to ever be considered fair equivalents for the "offenses" he supposedly committed.
Generally speaking, although he maintained a submissive and accepting posture in front of the only person who treated him with decency, Ning Yingying, Luo Binghe knew that what he was living through wasn't right. And he was tired of faking it! The rage accumulated from those years of abuse on the streets hadn't diminished since he entered the sect; on the contrary, it had festered. What was happening to him wasn't fair, it made no sense, and he needed to do something to stop it.
Right then, with his fingers wrinkled and his hands trembling from being submerged in the water for so long as winter approached, determination flooded his body.
Luo Binghe threw the green robes onto one of the rocks and let out a fierce shout of courage: “If I let them trample over me, this won't be any different from my life on the streets!”
In his entire life, he had lived under someone’s boot. When his elderly mother took care of him, they lived through the abuse of wealthy lords and often depended on their charity.
He had been trampled before. And he was being trampled now, even if this time it happened while wearing expensive clothes and living in a place unreachable to most. The beatings were now merely excused under the words of 'teachings' and 'discipline' from his seniors.
Luo Binghe dropped to the ground and sat down. He furrowed his brow, deeply lost in thought: how could I fix his situation?
Rather than doing something about his master, Shen Qingqiu, he would have to deal with the head disciple: Ming Fan. Ning Yingying had tried everything to get her Shizun to stop the mistreatment, but he never listened. Therefore, he needed to solve his problem through an easier route.
Ming Fan was his daily nightmare. His Shixiong was the one who ordered the other disciples to teach him "lessons" or pile on more work. Whether it was under Shizun’s orders or not (he really wasn't sure if Ming Fan was telling the truth, considering his Shizun usually just ignored him or only punished him after false accusations), Luo Binghe suffered at his hand. So, if he wanted to change anything, he had to settle things with Ming Fan.
But how? Luo Binghe’s scowl deepened as he continued to brainstorm.
The reason for Ming Fan's animosity wasn't just Shizun’s influence, but also Luo Binghe's closeness to Ning Yingying. Ning Yingying, being the only female disciple on Qing Jing Peak, was constantly pampered and adored by the other disciples, and even by their master himself. Luo Binghe knew that many of them harbored intentions of courting their only Shijie. Among them, Ming Fan was the ringleader.
Perhaps if he spoke to his Shixiong and made it clear that he had no romantic interest in Yingying, the older boy would stop hating him. In reality, Luo Binghe did feel a certain attraction toward Ning Yingying. But it was a simple crush that he felt could easily remain a friendship. If it was for his overall well-being in the sect, giving up a potential relationship with the girl was a small price to pay.
It was getting dark. He still had a lot of laundry left to wash, but he had already made significant progress on a large basket of the senior disciples' robes. Thus, he had the perfect excuse to approach the head disciple's quarters and talk before night fell and he was forced to return to the freezing woodshed, as he was barred from the disciples' dorms.
With that plan in mind, Luo Binghe folded and neatly packed the dirty robes into the hollow of a nearby tree trunk where he usually kept his cleaning supplies. He placed the clean clothes into another basket and quickly stood up to head back up the peak.
When he arrived, he was lucky enough not to cross paths with Ning Yingying anywhere. He had a feeling that if Ming Fan knew he had been with her before their chat, things wouldn't go his way. Instead, he was greeted by some of the usual bullies and lackeys of the head disciple, who immediately mocked him upon his return.
“Has Luo Shidi finished his chores? It looks like the robes returned are fewer than what was given!”
“Did Shidi lose the robes down the river? We should tell Da Shixiong, then! He’ll teach you a lesson before taking you to Shizun for punishment! Losing such fine clothing... to a street rat, what a waste!”
“This Shidi apologizes to his Shixiongs,” was all Luo Binghe replied to the accusations. There was truly no point in explaining himself to these people, as Ming Fan held the final verdict. And if he wanted to speak with him, they would take him there much faster this way.
The basket of clean laundry was roughly dropped onto a bamboo table before the senior disciples grabbed their Shidi, practically dragging him along. The walk was silent and swift.
When they arrived, Ming Fan was just stepping out of his quarters. While all the disciples shared rooms, there was a smaller, separate room for four people where the senior disciples slept.
The disciples shoved Luo Binghe forward with force, causing him to almost stumble over the beds of the junior disciples. He heard mocking laughter behind him, and when he looked up, Ming Fan appeared with a sneer.
“Why is the little beast here? What have you done now?” the head disciple barked, practically spitting at Luo Binghe.
“Ming Shixiong!” one of the disciples chimed in. “Luo Shidi lost the clothes given to him for washing. Ming Shixiong’s robes and Shizun’s robes were in there!”
At the mention of his own name and their mentor's, Ming Fan’s face flushed red with rage. “Losing clothes in the river? Shizun’s clothes? How stupid can you be?! You have the nerve to show your face after losing such invaluable items, you mongrel!”
“Ming Shixiong. This Binghe actually didn't-”
“You dare talk back?! Shizun should cut out your tongue! While the Shidis go call Shizun, this Da Shixiong will handle teaching you a lesson. Luo Binghe, you are always making a mess of things!”
The two disciples nodded at their head disciple's command and left, though not before casting contemptuous glares at the younger Shidi. Luo Binghe, contrary to what anyone would expect, felt a wave of relief. He was finally alone with Ming Fan.
Once they were alone, Ming Fan grabbed Luo Binghe by the collar of his robe, forcing him onto his tiptoes. Although they weren't too far apart in age, the difference in height was undeniable.
Ming Fan was a fifteen-year-old teenager who had been well-fed and trained his entire life, making him large and sturdy. Meanwhile, Luo Binghe, barely thirteen, was a small, malnourished boy. The physical disparity between them was striking, especially now with Ming Fan lifting Luo Binghe's entire weight with just one hand.
A strange little flutter stirred in Luo Binghe's stomach upon realizing this, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared when Ming Fan struck him across the face, making him stagger. “The beast is so foolish he loses clothes in the river. You don't know how to wash, you struggle to fetch firewood and water. How do you plan to become a proper Shidi of mine under Shizun's guidance if you can't even handle basic chores? And you still have the audacity to sneak around our only Shimei! Little beast, stay away from Ning Shimei. Who knows if you'll lead her astray? Go be a useless mongrel by yourself!”
“Ming Shixiong!” Luo Binghe managed to gasp out, only to receive another strike. “Shixio-” Another blow cut off his words, followed by one more alongside a harsh yank of his hair.
Ming Fan wouldn't let him speak, delivering blow after blow.
Luo Binghe tried for a few more minutes, but Ming Fan seemed entirely deaf to his words. Rage, sharp and hot, flooded his veins. Once again, Ming Fan wouldn't let him defend himself. Once again, he was just doling out "lessons" that were nothing more than beatings he was expected to accept in silence. Once again, he was trapped beneath horrible people.
But was he really going to accept these senseless punishments in silence?
Luo Binghe's blood burned with fury. Planting his feet firmly on the ground, he violently yanked the older boy downward. Ming Fan definitely hadn't expected a physical retaliation from the usually submissive Luo Binghe, completely losing his balance.
In a flash, Luo Binghe pinned Ming Fan to the ground. The head disciple snarled, deeply offended by the action. “You dare push your Da Shixiong, you beast?!”
“Ming Shixiong!” Luo Binghe’s hands tightened around Ming Fan’s wrists. The older boy grew increasingly alarmed as he realized he couldn't push him off. Luo Binghe’s strength, fueled by pure adrenaline, completely overpowered Ming Fan's. The realization sent a chill down the head disciple's spine.
Ming Fan struggled a bit more before resorting to insults. “Beast! Mongrel! Shizun has been called, and he will kill you when he gets here, you shameless, unfilial wretch!”
“Ming Shixiong surprises this Shidi with his sharp tongue, considering he can't even escape this Shidi’s 'filthy' hands.” The struggling underneath him grew wilder at the comment. “Ming Shixiong should know that this Shidi’s actions are merely a consequence of his own. Perhaps if you listened, you wouldn't be pinned to the floor right now!”
As the words poured out of Luo Binghe's mouth as if destined to be spoken, a sudden blankness washed over his mind, followed by a wave of embarrassment. What am I doing? Where did I find the courage and audacity to say all this?!
Ming Fan didn't notice his internal hesitation, far too paralyzed by shock and indignation.
“Listen to you? Senseless words for things as clear as water! You are nothing but a useless failure who brings shame to this peak and to Shizun! How could this head disciple's actions ever lead him to be bested by a street rat?!”
Luo Binghe’s blood boiled again, instantly melting away his embarrassment. “Ming Shixiong claims this disciple is useless, but he never bothers to explain things to help this disciple avoid mistakes! All this Shidi wants to know is what he must do to please his Da Shixiong! Is it my lack of endurance for hard work? I will grow and I will endure! Is it my ignorance regarding the sect's activities? If I am given the time to learn, I will learn and be useful! So, what is it that Ming Shixiong wants from me? Why do you hate me?”
“Let me go, Luo Binghe!”
“No! Because Ming Shixiong has confused this Shidi with all this senseless hatred, and I just want to understand!”
Ming Fan managed to free his leg enough to shift and began kicking Luo Binghe's side. The younger boy let out a sharp whine from the blows. The thrashing, painful at first, suddenly turned awkward as Ming Fan's leg shifted down from his waist to his hips.
“Ming Shixiong should stop rubbing against this disciple,” Luo Binghe tried to warn.
“The little beast on top of me should use his last remaining brain cell to unhand this disciple!”
“I won't. Not until Ming Shixiong answers.” The kicking stopped, and Ming Fan's sharp eyes flashed with an even deeper layer of anger. Luo Binghe finally remembered what he actually came to say and spoke up. “If this is about the established competition for affection on Qing Jing, Ming Shixiong should know that this Luo Binghe has no intentions of courting our only Shijie, and therefore should not be viewed as a threat.”
“What are you talking about, you mongrel?!” Ming Fan’s cheeks flared a bright crimson. Wow, Luo Binghe thought. So Ming Fan is actually quite easy to fluster with the right words. “Ning Shimei...? Competition for affection...? What kind of delusion are you cooking up?!”
“This Luo Binghe is no fool and understands that, as the only female disciple, Ning Shijie is the center of attention for many here. If Ming Shixiong were to approach her to talk about plotless romance novels instead of venting his jealousy on this disciple, I am certain he would win his beloved’s heart in a matter of months.”
Ning Yingying was a hopeless romantic. In the few months Luo Binghe had known her, he had quickly realized she was incredibly prone to falling in love, an idealist who dreamed of a youthful love born from friendship that would last a lifetime.
Ming Fan remained surprisingly quiet after Luo Binghe's foolish tangent. Now that the older boy wasn't screaming curses, Luo Binghe began to process the reality of their position, which hadn't changed. Ming Fan was still pinned beneath his Shidi in a thoroughly compromising posture.
Before he could spiral into embarrassment again, Ming Fan spoke up. “Luo Binghe, get off me.” The younger boy opened his mouth to protest, but his senior cut him off. “I'll answer your questions. Just... get off me already, you shameless brat.”
“Yes, Shixiong...”
Luo Binghe obediently climbed off Ming Fan's lap and released his wrists. He sat down beside him, watching as the head disciple sat up straight and directed a sharp glare toward him.
Smack! A sharp blow to his head dazed him.
“What was that for...?!” Luo Binghe rubbed the sore spot in pain. Ming Fan stared back at him with an expressionless face.
“You're an idiot.”
Luo Binghe scowled. “That is not a valid answer!”
“No, it absolutely is. You're stupid and naive. I have never seen a kid so dense. Even now, what made you so sure that after you let me go, I wouldn't just beat you up and run away? Are you dumb? I can't find any explanation for you beyond natural-born stupidity.”
Frankly, Luo Binghe was offended. How was that a reason? He hated him for not being cynical? How stupid! That was what was truly ridiculous, not him! “How Ming Shixiong views me is subjective, and it's hardly a fair reason to justify all the hatred I've endured.”
“It’s not just my opinion. It's Shizun's too. The whole peak's.” Ah, yes, because everyone is against me, Luo Binghe thought bitterly. “Don't feel special, brat. There were others like you before. They got the exact same treatment.”
That actually caught Luo Binghe off guard. “So it's... is it this kind of attitude that is being punished?”
“It seems your brain finally understands. Shizun doesn't like naive people, nor those who believe in others without thinking twice. Lesson number one, which you clearly failed to grasp throughout your time here: expect nothing from anyone except the worst. I'm being far too indulgent by talking to you, but it seems if I didn't, you'd just invent wild stories in your head again.”
Though Ming Fan's words provided clarity and Luo Binghe understood them, he didn't feel satisfied. “That is a stupid reason,” he blurted out loud. His eyes widened in sudden fear, darting to the head disciple's face, but Ming Fan merely let a lopsided smirk slip onto his features.
“You can only afford to be insolent when you have the strength to back it up. Right now, you don't,” Ming Fan explained. But just as quickly as Luo Binghe saw his temper settle, it shifted abruptly again.
Ming Fan forcefully shoved Luo Binghe toward one of the beds, and the boy crashed painfully against the wooden legs. He let out a sharp groan of pain, which visibly delighted the older boy.
“And you certainly don't have it now,” Ming Fan sneered.
Ming Fan stood up, and as Luo Binghe attempted to do the same, familiar green robes swept into the disciples' hall. Shizun had arrived.
The next morning, Luo Binghe woke up with his hands tied and hanging from the ceiling, and with a fierce new conviction.
If what he needed was strength to afford insolence, then he would get it.
In the days that followed, every disciple noticed the change in the peak's youngest member.
Ning Yingying was the only person you could ask who would reply that her Luo Shidi was exactly the same as always, though perhaps a bit more smiley than usual and less nervous. But the rest of the disciples were living a completely different reality.
Luo Binghe still completed his chores and punishments, but he had drawn a line; he began refusing commands from his superiors and openly defying them. He got into multiple fights because of it, but he successfully discouraged several disciples from ordering him around. Others grew to respect him, treating their scuffles as extra training outside of lessons.
Only two weeks had passed, but Luo Binghe had stopped feeling so victimized. He no longer waited for someone to fix his situation; instead, he took it upon himself to handle it. Insulting, complaining, and fighting released a portion of the bitter resentment he hadn't realized he'd been hoarding for so long. However, it also resulted in him getting constantly thrashed, far worse than the simple punishments he now retroactively considered mild.
Visiting Qian Cao Peak became a daily routine.
The head disciple of Qian Cao Peak received him almost every single day. She seemed entirely used to, and genuinely concerned by, Luo Binghe's increasingly frequent appearances at her peak.
She was a very pretty and kind young lady, a future cultivator of great power and beauty. Luo Binghe could easily tell that she found him attractive as well. However, far too occupied with his plan of resistance and vengeance, he chose to pay little mind to the female beauty quietly tending to his wounds.
Regardless, his visits to Qian Cao were so numerous that on one of those days, when he went looking for pain relief ointments, he didn't find her. Instead, he ran into her master.
“Mu Shishu,” Luo Binghe squeaked when he saw the man enter the small room he had frequented over the past few weeks. The man, possessing attractive, analytical, and cold amber eyes, observed him for a long moment before approaching with various medical supplies in his hands.
“Luo Shizi. My disciple has mentioned your name far too often these days. A peculiar situation, given that you belong to different peaks. This Shibo had no choice but to look into the strange ailment that my best disciple hasn't been able to cure after two weeks.”
Luo Binghe lowered his head, not daring to look the Peak Lord in the eye.
Mu Qingfang wasted no time and stepped closer, carefully examining Luo Binghe. His eyes swept over the young disciple’s body, pressing gently on different areas. “Tell me if anything hurts,” he said softly.
“Yes, Shishu,” Luo Binghe replied timidly.
Luo Binghe’s answers varied, sometimes admitting to the pain and other times denying it. If he was being completely honest, he was amazed. The checkup was fundamentally the same one his disciple friend performed; however, the touch was definitively gentler and far less abrasive. Mu Qingfang’s examination bore no resemblance to the quick, rough touch of his own disciple, who clearly lacked experience.
As Mu Qingfang continued his inspection, Luo Binghe suddenly felt a warm sensation spread throughout his entire body, instantly soothing and healing all of his wounds.
The disciple couldn't help but look up in awe, his eyes meeting the Peak Lord's gaze. In that moment, he realized he had been healed directly through a transfer of spiritual energy, just like in the books Ning Yingying sometimes shared with him while he performed grueling tasks.
A profound sense of gratitude washed over Luo Binghe. He opened his mouth to express his thanks, but Mu Qingfang spoke before he could: “Will disciple Luo Binghe explain how he came by these injuries?”
Luo Binghe's voice caught, and he immediately went silent. He hoped he wasn't projecting too much discomfort, though he would truly never know what crossed the Peak Lord's mind upon seeing him look so fearful and embarrassed.
“This... this one is clumsy, Mu Shishu. It was just training, that is all.”
At the response, Mu Qingfang paused. Luo Binghe watched as, for a fleeting second, the master seemed to drift away into his own thoughts. But his unfocused eyes snapped back to attention as if nothing had happened and it had all been a figment of the boy's imagination. The abrupt shift in expression and the words that followed made Luo Binghe's entire world tremble:
“If anything troubles disciple Luo Binghe, keep in mind that this master is willing to listen. Be honest with me about whatever has caused you any type of harm, no matter how embarrassing or insignificant you might consider it to be.”
An explosion of emotion erupted in Luo Binghe's chest, unlike anything he had ever felt before. Everything hit him at once: the appreciation, the concern, the warmth, and the care from a person to whom he owed nothing and who barely knew him, yet chose to offer such comforting words.
His eyes shimmered, threatening to spill heavy tears. But Luo Binghe had conditioned himself over those weeks not to cry, so he forced them back.
Instead, he offered the most genuine, trembling smile he had managed in months.
“This disciple thanks Mu Shishu. It truly was only training, but if Shishu does not mind, this disciple hopes Shishu can heal him when it happens again.”
For a brief moment, Mu Qingfang observed him with a lingering doubt in his eyes, but it vanished instantly.
“Very well,” he replied.
Luo Binghe bowed deeply before taking his leave. Before he knew it, he was no longer on Qian Cao Peak, but well on his way back to Qing Jing Peak.
Yet, as he walked away, Luo Binghe could only think about how badly he wanted to return.
Driven by that desire, he actually decided to try and pick more fights back at Qing Jing.
The vast majority of his Shixiongs no longer bothered him. The only ones who still did were Ming Fan's small inner circle, who were responsible for the recent injuries that had landed him in Qian Cao in the first place. But even they were starting to hold back.
When Luo Binghe tried to approach Wu Ming-another disciple who had been making his life a living hell for months-the boy actually treated him with kindness! Luo Binghe tried everything to provoke a negative reaction from the Shixiong, but the older boy simply wouldn't snap.
He dropped heavy logs onto Wu Ming's shoes and spilled water all over his uniform, but it was Wu Ming who ended up apologizing, looking visibly intimidated. Luo Binghe scowled as his Shixiong finally scurried off, leaving him alone with his chores.
Why was everything feeling so bizarre? Wu Ming, who is the victim here, you or me?!
Luo Binghe tried his luck with another disciple, desperate for someone to fight so he would have an excuse to return to Qian Cao. But fate seemed to utterly despise him, because ever since his visit to the handsome and benevolent Peak Lord Mu Qingfang, not a single disciple seemed to want to lay a finger on him!
To make matters worse, they all seemed to ignore him and shrink away in fear, as if he were a feral dog ready to bite the first person who crossed his path!
How was Luo Binghe supposed to experience his Shishu's kindness again if nobody was interested in beating him up anymore? What an unjust world! When he didn't want to be hated, they loathed him. When he actively wanted to be hit, everyone refused.
Luo Binghe clutched his hair tightly in sheer frustration. Beside him, Ning Yingying stared at him as if he had grown a second head.
“Ah Luo... are you really upset that the others have stopped picking on you? But... this Yingying thought you would be so happy!” Completely missing her friend’s hidden agenda, Ning Yingying tried her best to comfort him.
“I am not upset about that, Ning Shijie,” he repeated yet again. Throughout their entire conversation, it seemed his Shijie just couldn't wrap her head around it, no matter how many times he explained. “I'm not looking for them to treat me poorly again, I just want to see Mu Shishu again...”
Ning Yingying raised an eyebrow. “Then just go see him!”
Luo Binghe felt a sudden warmth rush to his cheeks. He shook his head rapidly at her. Go just because? Absolutely not!
“This Shidi has no reason to visit Qian Cao Peak on his own.”
Ning Yingying tilted her head, thoroughly bewildered by his logic. Luo Binghe merely offered her a half-hearted smile. But Ning Yingying wanted his attention and searched for something to say. “Tell me, Ah Luo, if you want to see Mu Shishu so badly, why don't you just go and visit him? I am certain he would be happy to see you.”
“Mu Shishu is a very busy master... and I am merely a disciple. If I have no important reason to see him, I would just be an intruder. That is why, only if I am truly injured, can I justify going to see him!”
Baffled, Ning Yingying gasped, “But... is Ah Luo really going to hurt himself just to get what he wants?” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “No! Ah Luo, you don't have to hurt yourself!”
“I am not going to hurt myself, Ning Shijie! At least, not that much...” He muttered the last part under his breath so his friend wouldn't catch it, but he wasn't entirely successful.
“Ah Luo!”
“Ning Shijie... this Shidi is merely seeking rigorous training. One is bound to get hurt during training, but it will be nothing severe, it's entirely normal! That way, I will grow stronger and I will get to see Mu Shishu without being a nuisance! It is a perfect plan.”
Luo Binghe watched the sun begin to dip below the mountains and turned back to Ning Yingying. She looked ready to protest again, but he cut her off gently. “Ning Shijie should head back up the peak. This Shidi has not finished chopping firewood yet. I will return as soon as I am done.”
His Shijie pouted and lowered her head, but she ultimately nodded. “Alright. But Ah Luo must promise not to keep thinking about getting hurt, okay?”
“I promise, Ning Shijie.”
The very first thing Luo Binghe did the moment she walked away was try to recall what kinds of dangerous creatures lurked around the base of Cang Qiong Mountain. However, he couldn't think of many; Luo Binghe was still a slightly slow child who couldn't remember much from his academic lessons.
And how could he? He missed half of them because of the heavy chores his Shixiongs constantly dumped on him!
It wasn't even dark yet by the time Luo Binghe managed to gather enough firewood. He sighed as he calculated the sheer number of trips he would have to make to carry it all back to the woodshe… Not to mention how cramped his "bedroom" would be once he piled all those branches inside.
With the firewood neatly bound to his back, he prepared to head back up to Qing Jing Peak. The surrounding area was filled only with the soft sounds of nature, like the rushing currents of the nearby river and the chirping of birds. However, the moment he stood up, something else shattered the silence.
Luo Binghe caught sounds echoing from a distance: the faint, sharp clashing of weapons and rapid movements. Curiosity instantly got the better of him, and without a second thought, he decided to follow the noise to see what was happening.
With stealthy steps, he crept closer to the source of the commotion. And there, he witnessed a scene that completely stole the breath from his lungs. A man, the most beautiful man Luo Binghe had ever seen in his entire life, was fighting like a fairy dancing upon the water.
The man possessed a majestic and elegant bearing, with exquisite, sharp features that looked as though they had been sculpted by the heavens themselves. His dark hair whipped through the air with every motion, as if dancing to the rhythm of the battle. But what captivated Luo Binghe the most were his eyes… deep, intense, and flashing like two brilliant jewels that completely hypnotized him. Furthermore, the beauty mark resting just beneath his left cheekbone only served to emphasize his striking looks.
Every single one of the man's movements was a display of sheer brutality and martial prowess, yet it never lost an ounce of grace. His strikes were precise and lethal, but at the same time, they possessed a fluidity and harmony that left Luo Binghe utterly spellbound. It was like witnessing a celestial dance, a sublime exhibition of the martial arts.
Luo Binghe's heart exploded with pure admiration. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the man, whose mere presence seemed to command the entire space around him. It was as if he were looking at a true martial master, someone who had achieved a level of perfection unattainable to most. Someone far more powerful than his own Shizun, whom he had actually never seen fight and had only heard stories about.
Without even realizing it, Luo Binghe found himself creeping closer and closer to the clearing. His cautious footsteps did not escape the beautiful man's notice. In the middle of a strike, the man abruptly halted his training and snapped his gaze directly toward Luo Binghe.
Their eyes locked in a profound, heavy silence. In that exact instant, Luo Binghe felt as though time itself had ground to a halt. In that brief locking of gazes, the entire world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, as if they were the only living beings in the vast universe. At least, that was how Luo Binghe felt.
Meanwhile, the cultivator stared back in sheer bewilderment at the tiny disciple who was gaping at him as though he had just seen a god descend from the heavens.
“A disciple of Qing Jing?” the man questioned. Realizing he had been spoken to, the disciple snapped out of it and immediately bowed in respect.
“Greeting Shishu! This one is Luo Binghe of Qing Jing Peak!”
Luo Binghe nearly choked as his brain finally put the pieces together.
He was standing right in front of the incredibly powerful War God of Bai Zhan Peak!
Liu Qingge!
The thought made him swallow hard. He had heard of this man's countless legendary exploits, but he had never imagined his appearance would be so... breathtakingly beautiful!
A spark of recognition flared in the master's eyes. “It's you.”
Luo Binghe's breath hitched. “It’s me...?”
Liu Qingge observed him for a moment longer in silence before stepping forward. Luo Binghe’s cheeks burned an even deeper shade of red at the sudden proximity. But the moment they were only a few feet apart, the master spoke again: “Fight me.”
All the color instantly drained from the disciple's face. “This... this disciple... fight Shishu?!”
“Entrance Exam. This master saw potential. Shen Qingqiu chose to teach you before I could.” Liu Qingge shifted into a flawless combat stance, leveling the great and powerful Cheng Luan sword directly at Luo Binghe's chest. “I will test your progress. Stand up and fight.”
Liu Qingge was interested... in my potential? How did Shizun end up taking me as a disciple before the War God of Bai Zhan Peak could? He didn't have the time to process the weight of those words or fully unpack Liu Qingge's confession.
“Shishu!” Luo Binghe cried out, a note of desperation bleeding into his voice. “Liu Shishu honors this disciple... but... this one does not possess a sword yet. I cannot fight and-”
The sharp ring of metal clattering against the ground cut the disciple off entirely.
“No sword, then. Fight.”
Liu Qingge showed absolutely no mercy.
Luo Binghe took a deep breath and adopted a combat stance as best as he could, considering he had only managed to acquire a decent cultivation manual to guide himself a few weeks ago.
His Shishu didn't seem to notice (or simply didn't care about) his hesitant movements. The master lunged forward with blinding speed and pinpoint precision, his motions fluid and devastatingly powerful. Luo Binghe could barely keep up with the sheer velocity of Liu Qingge's strikes.
In truth, he thoroughly regretted asking for a stronger opponent. This one was far too much!
Dead. He was so dead!
The disciple was quickly overwhelmed by the skill and strength of the Bai Zhan Peak Master. Every movement of Liu Qingge was like a deadly dance, while Luo Binghe struggled to keep up, completely desperate with the little knowledge he had. In reality, he guided himself more by instincts that, surprisingly, made him dodge very powerful attacks with grace.
Luo Binghe had no idea what he was doing, but he was doing well to avoid being hit by the fists of the Bai Zhan War God. At least, he was not being pierced by the powerful Cheng Luan sword, so he did not complain or ask himself too many questions!
At one point, Liu Qingge seemed to furrow his brow more, angry. The disciple trembled, thinking he was boring his martial uncle from so much dodging, so he proposed to block an attack. But, the moment he tried to do it, the master's strength carried him straight into the air!
To make matters worse, Liu Qingge, when he threw him through the skies, then went after him again to keep hitting him!
He tried a second and a third block without success. However, on the fourth time, his feet buried into the earth. His body buckled, but he managed to stay on his feet. With that movement, Liu Qingge's eyes shined and his blows were even stronger.
Luo Binghe was going to cry.
Every time he blocked an attack, his body trembled from the force of the impact. He forced himself to stay on his feet… but that only made Liu Qingge charge with more strength! Liu Qingge, Liu Qingge…! Is this a test of improvement or an attempt at cruel murder!?
While Luo Binghe questioned himself, Liu Qingge observed him without blinking. Although the disciple was at a clear disadvantage, he did not retreat or show signs of giving up. It was evident that he had a fighting spirit, or a pride too strong, either of the two was fine, Liu Qingge thought.
After several minutes of intense fighting, Liu Qingge finally had mercy and stopped the combat. The master moved away from a particularly strong blow and landed gracefully on his two feet in a forest clearing. Luo Binghe, on the other hand, still had the strength of the blow he was blocking, so he fell on his back. His fall was stopped by a tree, which twisted under his weight.
Luo Binghe was exhausted, with ragged breathing and his body covered in sweat, but he still kept his gaze fixed on the master. Liu Qingge looked at him, blinked, and then emitted a grimace that looked like a small smile of approval.
“Not bad”
The disciple choked.
He really was… really…!
So beautiful…!
“You lack practice”
Although his words….
“This disciple thanks Shishu for the teachings!!” Luo Binghe, still with his body burning in pain, knelt until his head hit the hard earth.
Liu Qingge adjusted an outer robe that was a bit moved. He grabbed his Cheng Luan sword and sheathed it again at his waist. Then, without looking at Luo Binghe, he said: “In two days. Same time”
Luo Binghe looked at him with bug-eyes, without understanding. Liu Qingge seemed to let out a mocking huff at his expression.
“I will return”
And the man left.
Luo Binghe remained stunned while he observed Liu Qingge walk away. Did he….?
The disciple's face turned an unbearable and painful red. From his mouth came an excited and undignified squeal. His legs kicked in a small movement of happiness.
He had achieved it! What he needed! A challenge! Someone who would break his bones consecutively!
And boy, Liu Qingge was the perfect person for Luo Binghe's plan. His thorax hurt like hell and he was very sure that he probably had some concussion from how blurry the trees of the forest were starting to look. He would have to go to Qian Cao soon.
Luo Binghe should not have arrived with 7 broken ribs, two fractures of limbs, a concussion, and a big smile on his face to the arms of Mu Qingfang, but who could blame him?
Mu Qingfang could not!
“Training in Qing Jing would not leave marks like these. Disciple Luo should stop lying. How did you get these injuries? “
The angry voice of the doctor of Qian Cao peak was heard like honey to the ears of Luo Binghe, who could not help but smile conceitedly.
“Answering Mu Shishu, this disciple has not lied. I was training, but not in Qing Jing. This disciple had the honor of receiving observations from Liu Shishu”
The master's touches stopped with surprise. His expression also showed doubts. “Liu Qingge? Has he returned from…?” he seemed to murmur, but then shook his head. “No matter. Shizi should have mentioned it before, then.”
The doctor moved away to approach the door. With his voice a bit higher, he called one of his assistant disciples. He said: “Bring the usual pills for Bai Zhan, it seems we will have their disciples wandering around here again in these months.”