The next day, after the snow, the sun shone golden on the white marble plaza of the Qingyun Sect.
Lin Bugui, still carrying his heavy black armor, walked silently along the edge of the crowd. He was going to collect his monthly fasting pills. Along the way, mocking voices followed him like shadows.
"Yo, isn't this our 'Ironclad War God'? What, is that shell even heavier today?" Outer sect disciple Zhao Heng, leading several people, blocked his path, laughing arrogantly.
Lin Bugui lowered his head, his gaze falling on a clump of remaining snow on the ground. He was thinking about the girl from last night.
Her fingers seemed warm.
"I'm talking to you! Are you deaf?" Seeing that he ignored him, Zhao Heng felt humiliated and unleashed a powerful "Stone-Splitting Palm" strike, slamming it heavily onto Lin Bugui's back.
"Clang—!" A crisp metallic clang echoed throughout the area.
Zhao Heng felt an overwhelming force surge from the black armor, splitting his hand and sending him flying backward, crashing awkwardly into the snow.
A deathly silence enveloped him.
Lin Bugui remained motionless, not even bending his back. He slowly turned his head, his voice calm and devoid of any warmth: "Heavy armor, prone to rebounding, sorry."
This scene was witnessed by Su Manman, who had just returned from collecting medicinal herbs.
Hidden behind the corridor, she watched the boy ostracized by everyone, a strange pang of sorrow rising in her heart. The world only saw his thick "shell," but no one asked how much pain it must hurt to walk with such a shell on his back.
"Hey, Senior Brother Lin!"
As night fell, Su Manman slipped into the Sword Tomb again. This time, she brought a bottle of homemade "pine needle dew" and a jar of "lapis lazuli oil," a special lubricant for metal.
Lin Bugui was staring blankly at a broken sword when she approached again, his brow furrowing slightly. "What brings you here again?"
"To return the favor," Su Manman said with a smile, sitting down beside him, unperturbed by the ill-fated appearance of the broken sword. "Thank you for not cutting me down last night. Also, I noticed your armor is rusty. This is my specially made medicinal oil; it can remove rust and promote tissue regeneration… oh no, I mean remove rust and brighten it."
Without further ado, she pulled Lin Bugui's arm.
The boy's arm was strong and muscular, but covered in tiny scratches. Su Manman poured out a drop of emerald-green medicinal oil, gently swirling it around in her fingertips before applying it to the black nail plate.
At that moment, a miracle occurred.
The instant the oil touched the black armor, it transformed into wisps of emerald-green smoke, seeping into the texture of the nail plate. Lin Bugui's tense body trembled violently. He felt a coolness he had never experienced before, like a pair of gentle hands soothing the restless dragon spirit deep within the black armor.
"What did you do?" Lin Bugui's voice trembled slightly.
"I...I just felt it was thirsty." Su Manman tilted her head back, moonlight falling on her crystal-clear eyes. "Senior Brother Lin, your armor seems to really like my spiritual power." The moonlight cast slanting shadows, the sword shadows flickering.
In this desolate sword tomb, a ruthless swordsman and a gentle pharmacist, in the barren winter night, felt a stirring of emotion called "a flutter of the heart" because of a piece of cold iron armor.