I lay on the ground, gazing at the stars, and saw your face.
—Afterwards
What exactly was *mind*? Riven hadn't given a rigid definition or some vague half-answer. Instead, she had explained it through her own journey of shifting states of mind. Simple, clear, easy to grasp. She truly was a good teacher, holding nothing back from Rosha.
Rosha lay on a lounge chair, eyes fixed on the sky, Riven's words echoing over and over in his head like a great bell tolling through his ears.
When Father Asa and Mother Shava returned, they found him still dazed, Lulu curled up asleep beside him. They called out several times, but he didn't respond.
It was Lulu who woke, waving his little arms in agitation, trying to convey something—but the three couldn't understand. Asa grew worried and was about to shake Rosha awake when Riven stopped him. "He's breaking through himself. We mustn't disturb him."
"Breaking through himself?" Shava gripped Riven's hand, nervous. "Will he be all right? Nothing dangerous, will it?"
"He'll be fine," Riven reassured, patting Shava's hand. "When his understanding comes, he'll step into the realm of the Swordmaster."
The old couple looked at Rosha with deep concern, then reluctantly followed Riven inside, still turning back again and again. Lulu scampered after them, entirely at home now, acting every bit like the true master of the house.
That night at dinner, the two elders ate little, though they made sure to leave plenty aside for Rosha.
As darkness deepened, Riven stood by the window and saw the old couple rise time and again, peeking out to check on the young man still sitting unmoving in the courtyard, worry etched in their faces.
Shava held a blanket in her hands, stepping forward several times, ready to cover Rosha with it, but each time Asa stopped her.
Riven's eyes grew damp. She knew—when she spent sleepless nights staring blankly at the door, the two elders were also awake, equally restless.
Rosha was unaware of anyone's concern. In his head, countless voices swirled and rang, drawn-out, muddled noise that gradually thinned into simplicity.
At last, no outside sound reached his ears. Only a few words remained: *"Do not rejoice over things, do not grieve over yourself. Forget both self and object."*
"Ancestors, your wisdom is something else," Rosha muttered in Chinese, stepping out of that strange state.
He rose, stretched, picked up a branch, gave it a light swing, then tossed it aside. Turning to the two elders who were watching him, he grinned. "I'm fine. Just hungry."
"I'll heat some food for you," Shava said quickly, throwing the blanket down and rushing to the kitchen.
Rosha went inside and sat with Asa, smiling playfully. "Father, do you see any changes in me?"
The old man studied him for a while. "Well, your hair's grown a little."
"…Really—" Rosha rubbed his face and rolled his eyes at him.
"Our Iza is, of course, more handsome," Shava chimed in cheerfully, carrying over the hot food.
"Lu-lu… lu-lu…" Lulu smelled the meal and zipped in from Rosha's room, plopping down beside him with bright eyes.
"Wash your hands," Riven ordered, pointing to the water jar outside.
Drooping his head, Lulu reluctantly trudged over, splashed his paws around half-heartedly in the jar, then scurried back inside.
"Daeda, you should eat too. You barely touched dinner earlier," Shava urged, pulling Riven to sit opposite Rosha.
"Captain, do you see any change in me?" Rosha asked again, fixing his gaze on her.
Riven stared for a long time before saying, "After the meal… we'll spar."
"Deal!" Rosha laughed, baffling the two elders with his enthusiasm.
He devoured the food quickly, wiped his mouth, and stepped outside into the courtyard to wait.
The old couple stood at the doorway, curious. Lulu darted about their feet, excited as if sensing what was coming.
"As before… fine, just a test of swordsmanship. I won't use battle qi," Riven said, grabbing two wooden sticks and handing one to Rosha.
"Understood." Rosha saluted, took his stance, and charged forward. From his memories, he knew Riven's sword skills were formidable—she could beat four or five Swordmasters at once. His only chance was to strike first.
His stick stabbed toward her face with lightning speed. Riven tilted her head slightly to avoid it, her own stick sweeping across to knock his weapon aside.
Then she raised a foot and slammed it into his stomach with startling swiftness, sending him flying back.
"Your strength is fine. Your reaction isn't," Riven said coldly, her demeanor transformed.
"Is that so?" Rosha flipped up, hurled his stick at her, and vanished from where he stood.
Riven parried the flying stick and, with uncanny precision, stabbed backward at her rear—but there was no one there.
Instead, Rosha reappeared with the very stick she had knocked away, its tip aimed at her throat.
Riven smirked and brought her own stick down in a powerful strike. A blast of wind, sharp and chilling, slashed toward his waist.
Rosha didn't retreat. He swung his stick across, releasing his own fierce gust. The two currents met with a booming crack, the sound of air being torn apart by sheer force.
Now Riven's eyes gleamed with excitement. She launched into a storm of attacks, every strike slicing the air, her relentless barrage forcing cold sweat down Rosha's back.
To Asa and Shava, their daughter was little more than a phantom shadow weaving across the courtyard, the clashing no longer wood on wood but sharp, crackling bursts like thunder. Rosha was like a young tree battered in a gale, barely holding on.
Blows landed on him again and again, until suddenly his movements slowed. His eyes grew calm, his motions deliberate—but each one deflected her strikes precisely. He even turned her power back against her, and at last his stick thrust into her shoulder.
"Hmm…" Riven's soft exclamation carried surprise. She flipped back out of the circle, and green light flared around her stick.
With a single stride, the ground quaked as though struck by a hammer, launching Rosha into the air. She leapt high, slashing across his waist with a green arc that sent him crashing to the ground, leaving a crater.
"Captain—didn't you say no battle qi?" Rosha groaned from the pit, his clothes in tatters.
"Hmph." Riven snorted, tossing her stick onto his face before walking off to bed.
"Daeda!" Shava called after her, giving her a playful smack on the back before rushing to help Rosha up, fussing over him. "Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Rosha reassured, brushing dirt off himself and coaxing her back to rest. Looking at the hole in the yard, he sighed and said to Asa, "I'll fix it tomorrow."
"You provoke her?" the old man chuckled, clearly amused to see Rosha beaten.
"No—she's just stingy," Rosha laughed, pinching Lulu's cheek as the little creature stuck its tongue out at him.
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