Under the shining sun, with droplets of rain still clinging to the leaves and a soft western breeze swaying the branches, a young girl moved.
She looked to be around sixteen, her long, slender legs splashing gently on the wet grass as she twirled with quiet grace. Her white eyes shimmered beneath pale lashes, and her smile brightened the misty grove around her.
Long white hair, fading into a soft pink near the ends, danced as she spun.
She wore a sleeveless black outer robe—short, like a battle skirt—over a fitted white inner dress that clung to her curves. Simple, yet elegant.
WHOOSH. WHOOSH. WHOOSH.
The shimmering sword in her hands sang through the air, every movement sharp and deliberate—yet fluid, like water.
As her blade traced a slow arc through the wind, her eyes softened.
This technique... it began that morning, years ago.
Back then, the courtyard had been quiet. She stood barefoot on the cold stone, her hair tied into a clumsy bun, a wooden sword in her hands. Her knees trembled, her breaths were shallow—every strike barely left a mark on the worn practice post in front of her.
The breeze passed by, light but biting.
"Again," she whispered to herself, raising the wooden blade. The strikes were weak, uneven. But she didn't stop.
One step, one breath, one swing.
Now, in the present, the sword in her hands danced like a part of her body.
She exhaled deeply—the air no longer cold, but crisp with memory. With one step in, she leapt into the air, swinging her sword in an X-Slash—a specific form of Cross Slash, done rapidly in succession.
The vivid memory of her wooden blade swinging through the rain under cloudy skies flashed before her eyes.
"Your form is not perfect. Take a step forward, raise your shoulders back, and look to where the sword is going," Li Hao said as he stood with an umbrella.
Raindrops dripped from the edge of his umbrella as he stood upright.
Now, her present movements were fluent, filled with delicate strikes that carved cuts into the base of trees.
She landed with elegance, shifting her weight slightly as she stood tall.
The blade's edge shone as she thrust forward with precision, the reflection of her past swordplay flickering in her mind.
"Pick it up," Li Hao said in a stern tone.
"And do it again," his voice chimed under the moonlight.
She picked up her blade, her hands covered in blisters from countless repetitions, and took a step through the pain—thrusting the sword forward again.
The sword light pierced into the tree bark as her present self stared at the circular hole left in the trunk.
She looked up to the heavens with confidence as memories of the courtyard echoed in her mind.
"This is a testing stone. It's used to test talent," Li Hao had said, gazing at her.
"Just grab it, and it will tell me your level of talent."
His words echoed in her ears as she reached out to the stone. Her delicate hands touched its surface, and she felt soft spiritual Qi pass through her body and meridians.
A soft yellow glow shone brilliantly, lighting up the room. She stared at Li Hao in anticipation.
Li Hao looked at the stone, a faint smile creeping onto his face.
"It seems you are quite talented... with high Heavenly Spirit Roots."
"Mhm. And what about yours, Brother Hao?" she asked, curious and full of expectation.
"Mine?" Li Hao paused, turning away. "I have mixed Heaven Roots. And don't call me 'Master.' Call me 'Brother.'"
She stood beneath the canopy of trees as a soft whisper passed through the air.
"Brother Hao," she said, the blade's edge catching the sunlight.
She took a step back, turned around, and thrust her sword in a Snapping Thrust—a fast, whip-like jab with minimal wind-up.
The sword light snapped out like a serpent, swift and piercing.
"The sword is an extension of my arm... my body... and will," she thought through each delicate slash. "When the sword moves, I move. When the sword falls, I fall. When the sword rises, I rise."
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The sound of hands clapping caught her attention. She looked to the side and saw a sixteen-year-old boy standing upright.
His presence resembled that of a master—lean, with a static build and flowing white hair in Immortal Style, cascading down his back. His white-blue-purple eyes sparkled beneath the sun's radiant light. He wore a black Outer Robe with dragon patterns and an asymmetrical overlay, along with an Inner Tunic—a straight-collared, buttoned tunic beneath.
He carried an aura that commanded reverence.
"Brother Hao," she said with a smile, running over. Reaching him, she asked excitedly, "Brother Hao, how did I do?"
Li Hao, calm as always, stared at the cut trees and falling leaves before responding.
"It seems that you've improved... but you're still far from truly strong."
He patted her head gently. She smiled in comfort.
Their relationship was a brotherly bond.
Over the past eleven years together, she had grown accustomed to Li Hao's style and ways.
"Brother Hao, so what do I do now?" she asked enthusiastically.
"You can rest for now," he said simply.
Li Hao turned and walked back toward his courtyard. As he disappeared beneath the trees, his presence vanished completely.
"He's gone," she mused to herself. "He's still like he was back then—cold, yet caring. Sometimes... I feel like I can sense his thoughts."