Chapter 49: The Refining Furnace (4)

Xu Qianyu lowered her head and untied the cherished pouch she wore: “Look, I still have many more here for you.”
She opened his hand and poured everything she had obtained in the past few days into Shen Suwei’s hand without holding anything back.
Shen Suwei was startled. Seeing that the spiritual stones were about to overflow and unable to stop her, he extended his left hand. A message butterfly fluttered out of his palm, flapping its wings as it flew to Xu Qianyu’s face. Xu Qianyu’s eyes widened, captivated by the butterfly, following it as it landed on her right shoulder.
Taking advantage of the moment, Shen Suwei took the pouch from her hand, poured all the spiritual stones back into it, sealed the bag, and quietly hung it back on her waist.
Xu Qianyu looked down and realized her hands were empty. She paused, “Where did the spiritual stones go?”
Shen Suwei closed his eyes and said, “I’ve taken them.”
Relieved, Xu Qianyu felt immense satisfaction and gave him a radiant smile, as bright as the shining moon.
Shen Suwei was momentarily speechless. Xu Qianyu’s personality wasn’t hard to grasp; it was simply intense, governed by four words: “clear love and hate.”
He paused and then said, “If you’re ever short on money, remember to talk to your senior brothers, sisters, or teachers. Spiritual stones have legitimate ways to be earned. Unless you’re at your wits’ end, don’t turn to underhanded methods. If you want something from others, it must be given willingly, not taken by scheming.”
Whether Xu Qianyu understood him or not, she nodded.
The white-clad beauty sighed, “I must go.”
Since he failed to reshape the spirit pool today, he could only wait until next time. The soonest would be tomorrow.

Xu Qianyu was reluctant to see him go, but she understood that she couldn’t keep him here. She looked a bit forlorn as she left, glancing back every few steps.
Shen Suwei sat under the bamboo grove, watching her leave without moving.
Only after she closed the door did he rise, dispelling the illusion, and depart.
But behind him, he heard a hesitant, “Miss…”
Shen Suwei stiffened and turned to see Xu Qianyu standing a few steps away. She had come out of the building without him noticing. Seeing him turn around, she walked toward him, separated by a misty white fog. He immediately lifted his dark eyes and gently said, “Stop.”
Xu Qianyu stopped. She hadn’t noticed anything unusual because she hadn’t looked up; instead, she bashfully stared at the hem of his robe and said, a bit shyly, “The clothes you gave me, I forgot to take them.”
Shen Suwei felt uneasy.
The clothes were just two leaves he had transformed to coax her into shaping the spirit pool; they weren’t real garments. In his haste, he hadn’t actually known Xu Qianyu’s size.
The transformation spell would only last for a while; by morning, wouldn’t she be disappointed? But since she had taken it seriously and come specifically for them, Shen Suwei couldn’t explain and silently used his sword energy to shape two more leaves behind him.
Xu Qianyu held the clothes to her chest, satisfied, and left. Shen Suwei stood in the forest for a long time, only leaving after confirming she hadn’t come back outside.
After returning, Shen Suwei sat at his desk, thinking of the girl’s expression.
Even knowing Xu Qianyu’s size, it wouldn’t be appropriate to give her clothing as a personal gift. After some thought, he sifted through the stacks of documents on his desk and pulled out a scroll.
The scroll proposed issuing new uniforms for the outer sect and general laborers, with illustrations attached. Since it wasn’t urgent, it had been left unattended.
Shen Suwei quietly flipped through a few pages of the illustrations, then closed the scroll. He drew a mark with his pen, stamped it with a lotus seal, and approved it.
The next day, Xu Qianyu woke up with a start.
Thinking it was morning, she found that it was already afternoon, and her body felt even heavier and more tired than before.
She didn’t know what had happened, feeling as if she’d been beaten; even her meridians were blocked. Seeing the “clothes” in her hands were actually two dry leaves, she realized she had wandered at night again.
What she had seen in the night had been merely an illusion.
But she didn’t throw the leaves away, tucking them instead between the pages of a book.
Outside, there was a commotion as disciples gathered in the courtyard, chatting. After a while, Yu Chu entered quietly, closing the door gently: “Miss, we’ve received new uniforms. Two sets each. Since you hadn’t woken up, I got yours for you.”
She had already changed into hers, and as she walked up, Xu Qianyu got a clear look. The new uniforms were still made of plain white silk, but jade beads and feathered adornments decorated the shoulders, adding a lively, youthful touch to her fresh face.
It was said that there had been a debate over the new disciple uniforms. A few elders felt they were too flashy and would interfere with training. But the disciples liked them very much, as most young people enjoyed stylish clothes. Xu Qianyu unfolded the soft robe, examined it critically for a while, then nodded, feeling it looked better than the old one. Yu Chu spun around, making the feathers sway, and smiled, “So pretty. Just like a crane’s feathered robe.”

Once Yu Chu left, Xu Qianyu also changed into the uniform, checked herself in the mirror, and was very pleased. With a slight smirk, she said, “Mother really does care about me.”
The system replied, “Be reasonable. It’s just the uniform issued by the school…”
Xu Qianyu ignored this, still adjusting her belt, bracelets, and earrings over and over. “Why wasn’t it issued sooner or later, but right now? I don’t care; this is a gift from my mother.”
The system cautiously asked, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Xu Qianyu’s expression frozen.
Oh no, a birthday—
Xie Yuzhen closed his eyes, continuously falling into darkness.
He had waited from dawn till dusk, enduring an agonizing pain that tore through his entire body. As the jasmine fragrance lingering on his face faded almost to nothing, he grew restless and suddenly realized that he had never felt a single day pass so slowly—because he was waiting.
She had probably forgotten. What was there to expect?
She was the kind of person who agreed casually but didn’t truly care. Because she was spoiled, no one could really blame her, even if she made a mistake. He should never have held any expectations.
Inside his sleeve, Xie Yuzhen clenched his fingers until they turned pale. Cold sweat wet his eyelashes, and he felt a certain indifferent resentment.

But then the door suddenly opened, and a figure rushed in. “Shishu (Uncle Master).”
With the door open, the heat and noise poured in, like a sliver of life washing him back to shore from the brink of death.
“I’m late.” Xu Qianyu put down her umbrella and walked in.
Outside, a summer storm raged. Xu Qianyu’s clothes carried with them the warmth and dampness of the rain.
She lit a candle and, while talking, mentioned receiving her new disciple’s uniform.
The room brightened. She was indeed dressed differently than before, with feather embroidery on her shoulders and fine, white fluff that swayed with her movements.
In the light, she seemed more vibrant than usual.
Xie Yuzhen noticed that she had grown a bit. She was focused as she trimmed the wick, her expression free of worry. The faint hostility usually in her eyes had faded, giving her a kind of pure, youthful innocence, like a celestial maiden from the moon palace—untainted.
Yet such purity only made her more tempting to a demon.
Xu Qianyu pulled a chair over and, as she turned her head, locked eyes with Xie Yuzhen’s dark, unfathomable gaze.
She fed him floral dew, though he was having difficulty swallowing it today, his cold sweat thick, his face pale. “Shishu, are you feeling any better?”
The young man lowered his lashes. “Better.”
After a pause, seeing her still sitting there, he felt an odd sensation and asked, “You’re not leaving?”
Xu Qianyu replied curiously, “Isn’t it your birthday today?”
She took out several gold ingots, arranging them on the table. “There’s nothing here, so don’t think it’s too simple. In our Southern Region, we start by building a ‘Longevity Bridge.'”
Xie Yuzhen suddenly recalled their first meeting when she had thrown a gold ingot at him. The scene now was vastly different, like a dream.
Xu Qianyu then lit a sparkler—a silent firework. The Immortal Sect preferred quiet, so they didn’t use noisy fireworks, only this kind. She had picked it out carefully, finding it just suitable; the dazzling light was eye-catching.
As Xie Yuzhen noticed the firelight, he stilled, glancing sideways. “Aren’t you afraid it’ll burn my bed?”
Suddenly, a hum started in his mind.
Don’t let that fire get close.
Be careful of your bed; you can’t get up if it burns.
The girl’s voice was bratty yet oddly familiar. Xie Yuzhen felt disoriented. Had Xu Qianyu said this to him in some other year, or was the pain making him hallucinate?
“It won’t.” Xu Qianyu shielded the flying sparks carefully as she turned around.
First, Xie Yuzhen saw her pale hand, then the sparks falling from that hand.
Xu Qianyu herself loved fireworks. Since joining the Immortal Sect, she hadn’t played with them in a long time. Seizing the chance, she indulged herself, entirely focused on the sparkler and not noticing her uncle’s reaction, her lips curving upward.
Amid the scattering sparks, Xie Yuzhen looked into her focused eyes. Her eyes were already bright, but under this dazzling firelight, they gleamed with breathtaking beauty, like splashes of gold and jade.

The sparkler quickly burned out, and Xu Qianyu found herself looking into Xie Yuzhen’s gaze.
The sparks reflected in his pupils, giving them a subtle golden glow, dark and soulful. The young man’s lips curled, his skin as white as jade. Through the brilliant sparks, it was clear he was smiling at her—a lazy smile that held a hint of warmth.
Xu Qianyu’s smile suddenly faded slightly.
As the sparkler extinguished, darkness enveloped them, hiding their expressions from each other. Xie Yuzhen closed his eyes, his heart still racing, and, as if compelled, said, “Tomorrow…”
Xu Qianyu replied, “I’ll come back. Wait for me.”
As she said this, she pressed her hand on the “Longevity Bridge” made of gold ingots and pushed it down.
Xie Yuzhen closed his eyes, barely feeling the pain that plagued him, and even managed another smile.
The next day, Xu Qianyu stayed curled up on her couch reading all day with no intention of going out. As night fell, the system couldn’t help but ask, “Xiao Qian, aren’t you…”
Xu Qianyu suddenly said, “He is Xie Yuzhen.”

If the system had a body, it would’ve been chilled to the bone, like an ice sculpture. After a long pause, it cautiously perched on the book Xu Qianyu was holding, observing her expression from below.
But in Xu Qianyu’s eyes, there was neither love nor hatred, only a calm indifference. She quickly finished one page and turned to the next.
She had not only recognized Xie Yuzhen, connecting him with Xiao Yi but also, at that moment, saw countless memories. There, in that small room, on many days and nights, Xie Yuzhen would sit on the couch reading, while she liked to squat at the edge, resting her hands on his legs, looking up to talk.
He never read seriously, often casting her that same lazy, smiling look, feeding her fruit petal by petal, as if that was more interesting.
She recalled these scenes but felt no emotions, as if watching another’s painting. Only an old ache throbbed faintly in her chest, like an illness awakening. 
She did not inherit the emotions from her past life, but she did inherit the sword wound, which occasionally throbbed with pain, and that was quite annoying.
“I’m not going back,” Xu Qianyu said irritably as her old illness flared up. “If you deceive me again, I will never trust you.”
The system saw her gaze, which was identical to the day she cut off the fox’s tail, and immediately began to tremble, apologizing repeatedly. It confessed everything about Wuzhen slipping into the Dream Shadow Tube in great detail. By the end, it was gasping, sobbing, “Please, please don’t be angry with me. I promise I’ll tell you everything from now on!”
The once spirited and charming host had suddenly become as cold and distant as an enemy, making it feel frightened and lonely in this world.
Why did it feel like a breakup? Boo-hoo.

Xu Qianyu said nothing after listening. She picked up her wooden sword, wiped it down, then leaped through the window and stepped onto the arena.
After her match with Chen Duo caused a commotion among the disciples, she hadn’t returned to the arena. She didn’t want to face others’ cold remarks, nor did she know where her once top-ranking name on the diligence leaderboard now stood. It felt meaningless, so she didn’t bother going.
But now she wanted to practice her sword skills.
Only the thrill of swift swordplay could make her forget the lingering pain from her previous life.
Inside the message pillar in the arena’s cocoon, Xu Qianyu saw mountains of “letters.” Since they had piled up without being collected, she had to clear them before she could challenge anyone.
On the arena, disciples could send each other messages, both public and private. Public messages were generally used to issue challenges, and anyone coming to the arena could open them and see who was challenging whom. Private messages were for friendly exchanges or skill discussions.
But as time went on, the messages became less formal, with all sorts of trivial talk filling them, and the letters fluttered around like snow.
Xu Qianyu hesitated and picked out a gray, private letter. As expected, it was scolding her for fighting in the arena without respect for martial etiquette. Without a change in expression, she discarded it, then opened another one, where someone asked, “Is the top rank on the diligence board always won through such ruthless means? Better hope I never run into you.”
She really shouldn’t be reading these; she should just burn all this trash paper that was affecting her mood.

Xu Qianyu stood for a moment, deciding to open just one more. Instead of picking from the middle, she grabbed the one on top. The edges of this letter glowed faintly with gold, different from the private messages—it was a public one, accessible to anyone.
The message was short, containing only one line:
“To the junior sister wielding the wooden sword: are you well? It’s been a long time, and I miss you dearly. The arena without you is like a moon missing a piece.”
Anonymous.
The arena without you is like a moon missing a piece.
Xu Qianyu was stunned.
Suddenly, she noticed that at the bottom of the letter, there were numerous irregular vertical lines—sword marks. On closer inspection, it seemed that various cultivators had read the message, felt something, and, without knowing what to say, left a sword mark as their way of leaving a part of themselves. Each subsequent person did the same.
Some marks were deep, some shallow; some wide, some narrow. She counted them—there were 127 unique sword marks.
More than a hundred fellow disciples had read her letter, opened this public message, and left a sword mark. This letter had been taken out and returned so many times that it had stayed at the top.
Xu Qianyu gazed at the letter in silence.
Suddenly, she believed that this was the Penglai Sect she had trusted wholeheartedly before Lu You’s arrival. Some might dislike her, but she had worked hard every day, and there were still people who noticed and cared. Many fellow disciples—names unknown—had already shown their mutual respect, a bond forged from afar.
She burned all the other letters but returned this one to the message slot, deciding to come to the arena tomorrow and every day to practice her sword skills.
With this thought, she started lining up for duels. But it was late at night, and most disciples were asleep; few were around to practice swordsmanship.
After a while, she matched with someone. Xu Qianyu turned and saw a tall man wrapping his wristband. Seeing her, he remarked, “Xu Qianyu, practicing swordsmanship in the middle of the night again?”
“Master… senior brother.” Xu Qianyu was delighted to see a familiar face. “What are you doing here?”
Gao Fengxing chuckled, his green eyes alive, like a spring pool. “I’m here every day. If disciples can’t find anyone to spar with, I’ll take the challenge and accompany them.”
That was a tough job as an instructor.
“It’s not hard. Shen Suwei used to do the same,” Gao Fengxing said, seemingly aware of her thoughts. Pinching her swordtip between two fingers, he flicked it with a “clang,” casting her a bright-eyed, spirited look. “I love the sword.”
The two started sparring. Xu Qianyu moved swiftly, her sword fierce, and within moments, she had pushed Gao Fengxing back after a hundred moves.
Gao Fengxing commented, “You’ve made great progress; you can even perform sword flowers now.”
Hearing this, Xu Qianyu quickly performed another flourish in front of him—the previous one had been a bit rushed and imperfect.
“Can’t take a compliment, can you? Your tail’s already sticking up to the sky,” Gao Fengxing teased, folding his arms as he looked at her. “This spiritual pool of yours…”
Her swordsmanship had improved her style was fierce. She had advanced a level in her cultivation even though they hadn’t met for long; it wasn’t that she was unwilling but rather beyond her control. Xu Qianyu had the potential to enter the inner sect. If Heaven decreed her cultivation should halt here, it would truly be a pity.
Feeling the sting of his words, Xu Qianyu frowned. “I’ve had some issues with my internal skills. I don’t know why, but it’ll be resolved soon.”
She truly believed that.
As soon as her senior brother finished his work and answered her questions from those books, she would definitely advance.
But then again, was he really that busy? It had been days without him returning those books. Could he have forgotten?

Seeing her doubtful expression, Gao Fengxing did something rare—he refrained from mocking her further and offered comfort, “Did you know? When I was thirteen, I reached the eighth level of foundation building. To this day, I haven’t advanced—it’s been thirteen years.”
Hearing someone reveal such a shortcoming, Xu Qianyu was greatly surprised, and her attention was drawn away.
“Cultivation is like this; there will always be someone with better talent than you, and there will always be times of misfortune.” Gao Fengxing smiled, “When I was thirteen and studying swordsmanship, my master, Shen Suwei, was only a year younger than me and had lower cultivation. Just look at the difference between us today.”

Xu Qianyu couldn’t help but ask, “Master, don’t you envy him?”

Her senior brother had outstanding talent and advanced too quickly; even she sometimes couldn’t help but feel jealous.

“When I was a child, I felt a bit humiliated and often made him uncomfortable. However… he never looked down on me or showed any fear. No matter what I said, he only talked about the sword. He shared everything he had without reservation, and I felt ashamed. If everyone on the path to greatness had such character, I could truly be convinced.”

“When I finish learning swordsmanship, I want to be such a person. No matter how others are, I will seek my own path and not be disturbed by external matters.”

Over the years, he had welcomed and bid farewell to many talented disciples. Some of his “students” had entered the inner sect, and some had already surpassed him in cultivation. He had long since let go and found his own rhythm.

Gao Fengxing said, “Come on, enough chit-chat. Let’s have another match!”

Xu Qianyu felt a bit strained; her spiritual pool seemed tangled, her meridians were blocked, and her spiritual energy was exhausted. However, she was in high spirits and refused to back down, forcing energy into her body to expand her meridians, thinking that maybe this way she could reopen her spiritual pool.

Xu Qianyu leaped up and struck down, but her sword grazed past Gao Fengxing’s sword, creating a shower of sparks. Gao Fengxing was startled by her errant trajectory and grabbed her collar to catch her, asking, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

Xu Qianyu had clearly lost consciousness. Gao Fengxing shook her gently, “Don’t scare me like this.”

A faint scent of cedar wafted behind her, and her vision went dark.

When Gao Fengxing turned around, he saw Shen Suwei, clad in white with a jade crown holding back his hair, who had picked up Xu Qianyu without him noticing and was gazing down at her face. Xu Qianyu was nestled in the crook of his right arm, her head gradually sliding down to rest in his neck, while Shen Suwei didn’t adjust her position; he simply tilted his head and bore it.

“Master…”

He was quite surprised, doubting whether he was dreaming, and rubbed his eyes. “You, she…”

Shen Suwei always maintained a certain distance from others. Not to mention girls, even when a close male disciple would put an arm around his shoulder, he would become stiff.

If someone unexpectedly tried to joke with him from behind, he would react instantly, flipping them to the ground or sending them flying with a burst of sword energy. Once he calmed down, he would apologize. Over time, the disciples understood his temperament and knew to maintain their distance in front of him.

He had never seen Shen Suwei hold anyone in such a way, let alone do so with such familiarity.

Shen Suwei glanced at him, hesitated, then left with a single sentence: “I’ll explain later.”