Chapter 81: The Gate (Part 4)

After a busy day, Xu Qianyu was exhausted and hungry. Once she had eaten her fill, she finally started to accept the fact that she had lost the Soul Lock, leaving an emptiness inside her.
Now, she either had to return to Penglai or go into town to try her luck.

Her journey had always been clear and focused, rarely with any moments of confusion.
But now, as she sat by the window, resting her chin on her hand and gazing absentmindedly at the trees outside, she couldn’t muster the courage to go out. Shen Suwei didn’t press her either.
The young girl sat by the window, the setting sun outlining her in a soft, golden glow. Her skirt draped down, covering her feet. Although she wore a vibrant red, she now appeared small and delicate.

Even her “ears,” which usually perked up, now seemed droopy, as if she had lost her spirit.
Shen Suwei looked at her back, his fingers slowly brushing the red ribbon tied around his wrist. His feelings were hard to describe at that moment.

Suddenly, Xu Qianyu turned to him and said, “Brother, could I borrow some ink and paper?”
Shen Suwei handed her the writing materials, watching as she took out a copy of the Penglai Sect’s rules from her storage pouch and quietly began to copy it down at the table.
Back then, she had scratched Hua Qingyu’s face, showing disrespect to an elder, and according to the sect’s regulations, she was supposed to copy the rules ten times. At that time, Xu Binglai allowed her to turn it in later, and she had put it out of her mind, thinking that once she entered the inner sect, copying it ten times would be nothing—she would even copy it a hundred times if necessary.

She still remembered the excitement she felt when entering the Flower Realm, but now her training had been abruptly cut short.
With nothing else to do, she decided to copy more here so she’d have less to do when she returned.
She had made quite a scene scratching Hua Qingyu’s face just to avoid missing the inner sect selection. She’d perhaps been a little too optimistic, as if she’d be selected simply because she participated.

Xu Binglai must have sent someone to take her Soul Lock because he’d changed his mind, no longer wanting her to enter the inner sect. After all, she had only joined the sect at fourteen, a very late age to start cultivation. If she entered the inner sect after only a year, it would be hard to justify to other disciples who had trained for five, six, or even ten years.
But then, Xu Qianyu remembered the nights she’d spent waking up to fight demons, enduring a bone-chilling cold. She had even come close to being possessed because she didn’t want to waste her points asking for help.
She held back her tears, but a single, round teardrop fell onto the paper, spreading out in a blot.
Xu Qianyu held her breath and rolled up the paper. She tried to convince herself that life in the outer sect wasn’t so bad—she still had over a hundred fellow disciples who would tell her, “The arena without you is like the moon missing a piece.” Yet she couldn’t shake off her disappointment.

If she hadn’t entered the inner sect before, she would have been content in the outer sect.
Xu Qianyu thought of the scene in her past life when she entered the inner sect: back then, she hadn’t set her mind on joining the inner sect—she had no friends or pastimes and spent every day training; because disciples in the Flower Realm rarely formed alliances, her advantage shone through, and she unexpectedly won the top prize in her group.
At that time, she hadn’t realized what this meant and continued her training as usual after returning. But one night, while staying in a shared dormitory, two senior sisters woke her up, telling her someone from the inner sect was coming for her. Their faces were filled with envy and jealousy.

Xu Qianyu had been quite illtempered back then. She had initially wanted to vent her anger at being woken up in the middle of the night but held it back, getting up with a sullen face to give whoever had come for her a piece of her mind. She thought to herself, What’s so special about the inner sect? Not just anyone could summon her at will.
The winter night air was icy, Penglai was damp and cold, needles of cold piercing her skin, with a layer of milky white mist hanging in the night.
Through the mist, she saw someone. He wore white robes, his hair tied with a jade crown, carrying a long sword on his back. From his silhouette, she could tell he was young. His pitch-black hair fell like satin, both soft and graceful, with an aura that was hard to define.
He heard her footsteps and turned around sharply.
That year, Shen Suwei had just reached adulthood and wasn’t as tall as he was now. His face had a beauty caught between youth and maturity, like the moon casting light on snow or the wind stirring jade trees.
On his back was a sharp sword, rusted with green patina, with only a thin red thread tied to the hilt.
That was the only touch of earthly color on him.
Xu Qianyu looked at him, most of her anger dissipating, thinking to herself that there were people like him in the sect.

“Inner sect disciple Shen Suwei. I returned late; I apologize for disturbing your rest.” Shen Suwei glanced at her, seemingly hesitant, as he probably wasn’t used to dealing with someone so young. He paused and said, “Xu Qianyu, gather your things and come with me to the inner sect.”

…
Xu Qianyu had always believed she deserved to enter the inner sect. She had never imagined that something she achieved so effortlessly in her previous life would now be so difficult to attain.
She set aside the page she’d copied, unwilling to believe it was the end. If this time didn’t work out, she would wait for the next inner sect selection. One day, she would make it.
But then, the thought struck her—what if someone else got selected for the inner sect this time? What would she do?
At that thought, her heart felt like a deflated balloon.

In her past life, Lu You alone had been enough to make her feel bitterly stuck. If someone entered the inner sect before her and became her senior brother’s junior sister, what kind of scene would that be?
Shen Suwei stood beside her, watching her quietly sobbing as she copied, frozen in place.
Though he hadn’t taken her Soul Lock, he felt a prickling unease, as though he himself had been the one to remove it.

“Stop writing,” he suddenly said.
Xu Qianyu, still crying and copying, didn’t hear him clearly until he seized her wrist and gently pulled the pen from her hand. Blurrily, he took hold of her wrist and turned her around on the bench to face him.
Shen Suwei knelt down, his robes sweeping around him as he looked up at her.
Xu Qianyu turned her face away, a bit embarrassed. In her past life, whenever she cried, Shen Suwei would quietly watch her until her emotions settled.

Seeing the teardrops clinging to her lashes, Shen Suwei felt a dull ache in his heart, as if some phantom pain had taken hold. He tore a piece of his sleeve to wipe her tears.
“Why are you crying?”He asked gently. “What’s wrong?”
Xu Qianyu sniffled for a while before reluctantly saying, “Because the moon has fallen.”
Shen Suwei thought for a moment, assuming she was talking about the selection rules, and replied, “Do you think it’s unfair?”
Xu Qianyu nodded, her tear-filled eyes staring straight at him. “It is unfair.”
“The moon should hang in the sky; why should it fall?”

Shen Suwei looked up at her, their gazes meeting, as if locked in a standoff. Xu Qianyu stood firm, almost challenging him, as tears continued to fall, and he sensed an undertone in her words.
He watched her, silently listening.
Xu Qianyu said, “If it fell to me, I’d have nothing to say. But if it fell to someone else, then I’d think it unfair.”
Shen Suwei’s lashes trembled slightly, his heart shaken. Although he was always perceptive, he wasn’t sure if he fully understood her meaning—or if he had misunderstood entirely.
But one thing he knew for certain: Xu Qianyu was challenging him. As a Sword Lord, he was acutely sensitive to any provocation or sign of battle intent.

“Have you ever thought?” Shen Suwei looked at her and said softly, “If it can fall, maybe it was never the moon to begin with.”
Xu Qianyu wiped her tears and gradually calmed down.
In both past and present lives, her relationship with her senior brother was like walking a tightrope. She both wanted his affection and didn’t want to try to win it. Shen Suwei was so aloof and ethereal, like a mirror made of ice that, with the slightest misstep, would reflect her own ugliness.

Xu Qianyu wanted to appear graceful, to never lose. So she carried a subtle hostility, like matching the same pole of two magnets against each other, forcing them apart.
After pouring out her grievances, she felt much better. Especially because, despite talking at length, she hadn’t really revealed anything substantial, which made her feel like she still had her dignity intact.

She glanced at her senior brother, only to find Shen Suwei looking as calm as ever, reaching into his “realm” and pulling out a stick of candied hawthorn.
Seeing the glossy red treat, radiating a cool aura and very enticing, she took it and bit into it, only to realize something was wrong.
The candied hawthorn was frosted with ice, clearly taken from the snowy “realm.” Everyone’s “realm” had different attributes, but throughout the entire sect, only Shen Suwei’s was covered in ice and snow. A person’s realm was an extension of themselves. Using one’s realm openly was forbidden during the trials to prevent cheating. So was it a violation for Shen Suwei to use his realm right in front of her?
Holding the candied hawthorn, she thought quickly, scrambling to find a way to cover it up, saying, “Brother, you’re good at magic tricks!”

“No magic tricks.” Shen Suwei looked at her and continued, “This came from my ‘realm.’ My realm is composed of ice and snow, so it can preserve food.”
With that, he pulled out a skewer of candied scorpions, a skewer of candied butterflies, and an “Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea” set—all in one handful, which he handed to her.
Xu Qianyu took hold of the candied peacock among them, her expression changing.

This was something she’d bought in town with her “sister” that day. Because the male peacock could fan its tail, she had taken it and given the other—the female peacock—to Zhao Qinghe.
And here was that female peacock, wafting its sweet scent.
She looked up at Shen Suwei, momentarily speechless.
“Mingtang,” Shen Suwei’s lips parted slightly, his tone resolute, “Zhao Qinghe, Guo Heng—they are all me. I am the observer for this election. My surname is Shen; my name is Shen Su…”
Before he could finish, his identity was revealed, shattering like dust.
Shen Suwei’s true form emerged, appearing in the underwater array.
Nearby, the observers Lingzhu and Lingxiu stared wide-eyed, utterly silent, looking at him with an expression as if they’d seen a ghost. “Senior Brother Shen…”
Shen Suwei had always been meticulous; he had never made an error within his realm.
“I violated the rules.” He stood still for a moment, collecting his emotions. “I’ll go to accept my punishment.”

A moment later, Xu Qianyu also emerged from the “door,” springing out.
Lingzhu and Lingxiu looked over to see Xu Qianyu holding the sect’s rulebook and some sheets of paper in her left hand, while clutching a handful of sugar figures in her right. Her eyelashes quivered.
The two quickly said, “Congratulations, Junior Sister, on completing your trial.”
Xu Qianyu thanked them but didn’t leave. After a long pause, she found a step in a corner of the spell hall, sat down, planted the sugar figures into the white sand, and spread the paper over her lap, resuming her punishment of copying the sect’s rules.

But her hands were trembling, her mind drifting back over all her interactions with Zhao Qinghe. Her “sister” had slept by her side, helped her apply snow cream, held her hand, and exchanged clothes with her. At the time, she’d only thought they shared a similar air but never imagined that all of it was actually her senior brother.

After a while, she noticed that all the characters she was writing had softened into squiggly lines, like silkworms, and she had no idea what she was actually writing.