Chapter 88: Inner Disciple (Part 6)

“Have you been busy lately? Is there no time to memorize the mind techniques and sword techniques?” Shen Suwei asked directly as she sat at the table.
Xu Qianyu thought of Wuzhen’s coursework and recalled that comprehensive book on talismans. For a moment, she didn’t know where to begin, so she vaguely replied, “I have some other matters to attend to.”
Shen Suwei’s gaze left the book. Seeing her reluctance to respond directly, she no longer pressed the issue. “If you don’t have time, I can compress everything down to half. But you must memorize those mind techniques and sword techniques. Starting tomorrow, I will come every day to test you.”
This was typical of Shen Suwei’s style.
She was both gentle and firm, applying pressure while also thinking of solutions for her.
Xu Qianyu thought that she was facing three times the coursework on her own, making it difficult for her to manage. If she didn’t do Wuzhen’s assignments, he would surely scold her; neglecting the tasks from Hua Qingsan would be even worse, forcing her to cram.

In comparison, her senior brother seemed the most gentle and reasonable. Whether she could negotiate some rest time depended on the moment, so she said, “Half is still too much; I can’t finish it all.”
Shen Suwei replied, “You can read for one more hour at night.”
“I need to rest at night,” Xu Qianyu firmly refused to give in. “Not even an hour less. I’ve been sleeping this much since I was little; if I don’t get enough sleep, I’ll become stupid.”

She had been in the inner sect for less than a year, and not placing in the flower competition was nothing to be ashamed of. Compared to striving for a ranking, she was more intrigued by learning to draw talismans. In contrast, her senior brother took on the tasks from their master, which only transferred the pressure back to Shen Suwei.
Shen Suwei fell silent, and after a while, she asked, “How much can you read?”
Xu Qianyu replied, “Half a page of each book.”
Shen Suwei went silent again.

Such a request was too outrageous. A whole book is filled with key points; how could it possibly be condensed to half a page?
Even the system couldn’t help but say, “Don’t push him too hard.”
Xu Qianyu replied, “It’s fine; I think my senior brother can still squeeze a bit more out of it.”

Over the years, he had solved countless difficult matters for Xu Binglai, all with finesse. Since he did not refuse, there must still be some leeway.
“I can give it a try,” Shen Suwei replied lightly, his expression unchanged. “But if you can’t recite it, I will punish you.”
Xu Qianyu looked into his dark eyes and knew he was serious. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she nodded.
As Shen Suwei passed by a ceramic pot by the window, he asked, “What are you going to plant?”
“A type of spiritual herb,” Xu Qianyu replied, “called Floating Grass Shenchong.”
Shen Suwei pondered for a moment. “Are you sure it’s Shenchong?”
“Yes, Shenchong.” Xu Qianyu had seen it written down by Wuzhen, so she wouldn’t mistake it.
“What do you need it for?”
Xu Qianyu said, “A friend asked me to plant it. I promised him that I would definitely grow it.”
Shen Suwei said, “No matter what kind of spiritual herb, they all grow in the wild; you can’t grow them in a flower pot.”

His words struck a nerve with Xu Qianyu, and she immediately jumped up to water the ceramic pot carefully. “You don’t control me; I’m determined to grow it in a flower pot.”
If Lu You could grow it in a flower pot, why couldn’t she?
Shen Suwei looked at her and asked, “How much time do you usually spend watering and taking care of it?”
Xu Qianyu replied, “About an hour.”
“Give it to me.” As he spoke, he collected all the ceramic pots into the mustard seed golden pearl. “Use that hour to memorize your lines.”
“No need…” Xu Qianyu tried to stop her senior brother, but he had already disappeared with the pots. She stomped her foot, her ears gradually heating up.

But she was also half-convinced by Yun’s words; trying it herself was fine. If her senior brother found out there were daylily seeds inside, he wouldn’t think she was foolish, right?
As night fell, Xu Qianyu took out a book that Xu Binglai had given her from the bookshelf, flipped through it, and put it back; then she took out another, flipped through it again, and put it back. The system was dizzy from her anxious emotions: “Xiao Qian, don’t be too eager to succeed in your studies. What kind of quantum reading method is this? Can you even absorb anything like this?”

Xu Qianyu scoffed, “What do you know?”
Finally, she flipped to the sixteenth volume, where the words began to make an impression. Xu Qianyu sighed in relief and carried volumes sixteen to twenty out.
These books were all ones she had memorized in her past life. However, after more than a decade, she had forgotten everything before that; she still remembered a lot of the knowledge points from the later sections.
Xu Qianyu began to memorize the parts she remembered, making her efforts twice as effective.

System: ?
System: “Aren’t you supposed to be resting? Aren’t you supposed to have no less than an hour?”
“Isn’t that just to push my senior brother a bit?” Xu Qianyu said, forming a hand seal to conjure fire, lighting the candles, and opening the books to start memorizing. “It feels better to have some assurance.”

*
Shen Suwei went straight to the Bamboo Language Pavilion.
This place was close to the dense forest on the back Pengli Houshan (mountain of Penglai), a gathering place for Dan Xiu (alchemy) and Yao Xiu (herbalism) disciples. To prepare for the sect’s disciples’ conference, many outer disciples were busy weaving between glass vials, collecting, washing, and grinding spiritual herbs to prepare materials. The bamboo house was filled with the fresh scent of plants.

The young man busy at the table was Song Zhilan, an inner sect senior brother of the Dan Xiu (alchemy) division. He had a knife pen shaped like a green snake stuck in his hair, and he picked up a spiritual herb to sniff it before quickly jotting down its form on paper.
Song Zhilan was a peer of Shen Suwei, having entered the sect around the same time. He was elegant and humble, so they had a somewhat gentlemanly friendship. When he looked up and saw Shen Suwei, he greeted him with surprise and a smile.

Shen Suwei placed the ceramic pot on the table.
Song Zhilan probed the soil with a spiritual needle for a while, then smiled awkwardly. “You want to plant a spiritual herb, but what’s inside is daylily seeds and some other miscellaneous items.”
Shen Suwei remained silent. Xu Qianyu had been spoiled since childhood and couldn’t tell the difference between plant seeds, which was understandable.

Song Zhilan kindly said, “The soil isn’t very pure; it’s mixed with pearl powder, and, um, there’s also a bit of rouge… and you’ve watered it too much, which might spoil the daylily seeds. Do you want me to help extract and purify them?”
“No need,” Shen Suwei replied. “Just tell me if there’s a way to plant Shenchong here.”
“Are you sure you want Floating Grass Shenchong?” Song Zhilan asked cautiously. “It’s not Shentu, right? One character makes a huge difference. Shentu is a spiritual herb that helps solidify the soul; Shenchong is a poisonous herb that can disperse the soul…”
Shen Suwei didn’t know what Xu Qianyu wanted the poisonous herb for, but he still said, “It’s Shenchong.”

“Floating Grass Shenchong,” Song Zhilan pondered. “To be precise, it’s a variant of Floating Grass Shentu. Ancient texts record that the remains of Floating Grass Shentu, occupied by demonic energy, can regrow into half-demon ghostly leaves, which is called Shenchong.”
“Following this reasoning, if you want to plant Shenchong in a flower pot, you must create those conditions artificially.”
With a change of tone, Song Zhilan smiled apologetic. “However, Floating Grass Shentu is exceptionally delicate; it dies if it comes into contact with blood energy. Floating Grass Shentu is already on the verge of extinction in the Kyushu, and it’s even rarer for one to transform into Shenchong under such conditions. I’ve never seen a living one, so I can’t guarantee the authenticity of the ancient records. Moreover, there’s certainly not a single Shentu to be found in the sect now.”

Implied in his words was that it was impossible to fulfill such a request.
After listening, Shen Suwei thanked Song Zhilan and left.
That night, Shen Suwei stared at the ceramic pot on the table, thinking, Who said that the sect couldn’t find a Floating Grass Shentu?
He took out a small pouch he kept close to him.
The pouch was embroidered with golden thread, adorned with jade and pearls, with a black base color faintly embroidered with golden scales of dragons and phoenixes. However, it had lost its luster, like ancient bronze rusting, indicating its age.

He poured a handful of soil into his palm from the pouch, along with a thin red string that fell out. He put the red string back in, lowering his eyelashes to look at the scorched earth in his hand.
This was one of the nightmares that haunted him:
He had hidden in the caves of the Beishang Palace during his entire childhood, never seeing the light of day.

He didn’t know when it was, but the wooden boards nailed above him loosened, creating a gap that let a sliver of light shine down onto the sandy ground. Through the gap, he could hear the fragmented sounds of the outside world and see many legs and the corners of garments flash by.

Perhaps a seed of the Floating Grass Shentu fell from a hurried monk above, landing in the sandy soil.
In any case, a few days later, he noticed a solitary green sprout growing in the sliver of daylight on the ground, its stem and leaves leaning towards the only place where sunlight shone.
When his mother discovered he often visited that plant, she took the hard-earned elixir and crushed it to bury in the soil, even secretly transferring all her meager spiritual energy to it, all to protect a child’s heart, without revealing her intentions.

Instead, she gently told him, “This is a Floating Grass Shentu.”
As a princess of the heavenly family, his mother always understood many things.
He asked, “What is a Floating Grass Shentu?”
His mother replied that it was a spirit herb that could be used in medicine. Being a spirit herb, if it were plucked and eaten, it would naturally be beneficial.
Yet his round pupils held no desire; he listened with great focus.
Its leaves were serrated, and it would eventually bloom with white flowers. His mother also said it was extremely fragile and would die at the sight of blood—this frightened him, and he immediately stepped back a few paces, maintaining that distance from it in the future, watching from afar.

Until one day, rain leaked from the gaps above, dripping down incessantly, beating down on the Shentu’s leaves. He dared not cover it with his hand; instead, he watched it while biting down on his wrist strap, quickly wrapping the wound on his hand, and cautiously using his spiritual power to create an ice shell to shield it.
The next day, the sprout of the Shentu revived within the ice shell and even added another leaf.
Though he couldn’t smile, a sense of relief surged within him.
It endured a ten-day-long scorching heat that year and added two more leaves.
Ignoring his own injuries, he transferred all his spiritual energy to it, and his mother still pretended not to know.
When he was awake, he would watch it swaying in the sliver of light, blown by the wind.
At those moments, his eyes would return to normal, bright, and devoid of killing intent. The swaying green shadow reflected in his eyes, resembling a child of his age, filled with innocent curiosity about the world.

The Shentu grew branches and leaves every day, and at night, it developed flower buds the size of grains of corn, blue supporting white petals.
His mother said it was going to bloom.
That night, he heard the chaotic footsteps and voices above, announcing their doom.
At dawn, a fierce battle was inevitable.
The color drained from his face, and he trembled as he gripped the broken tiles in his hand.
That night, he suddenly developed a high fever.
In his daze, he heard his mother sobbing, and with great effort, he opened his eyes to quietly ask, “Why are you crying?”

His mother placed her cool hand on his brow, as if to say, “Don’t get up; just lie down obediently; I’ll take care of it.”

He realized she was referring to that Floating Grass Shentu.
Just as she understood why he had suddenly fallen ill.
She knew it was something he had tenderly cared for, something he had invested emotions in. It was not just a plant but the only source of solace in this dark, sunless time. This grass could not withstand bloodshed; it was destined to die a tragic death tomorrow. Even if it were fortunate enough not to die, the monks would pluck it away.
Let alone a mere plant; they themselves struggled on the brink of life and death. Such people should not have too heavy a burden, or it would become a liability.

His usually gentle mother even contemplated removing it, just to prevent him from witnessing its death. She deceived him, saying it was fine to pull it out whole and bury it; it might have a chance to revive later.
“Don’t,” he said, gripping her tightly and forcing himself up as his eyes suddenly transformed into cat-like slits.
Ignoring his mother’s attempts to stop him, he crawled and rolled to kneel in front of the Floating Grass Shentu.
What he had nurtured with his own hands must die at his hands; he would never allow it to be someone else’s doing.

Today, the Shentu’s flower bud had just begun to bloom, bathed in a beam of moonlight, pure and untainted, as beautiful as a fairy. Yet it sensed the killing intent, and its serrated leaves trembled slightly.
His cheeks flushed with fever, and he stared at it expressionlessly.
Suddenly, he made a move, and his mother screamed “No” from behind him, but the green flame in his palm had already engulfed the newly blooming Floating Grass Shentu.
In an instant, both flowers and leaves turned to ashes.
Only a small patch of charred earth remained.
To destroy it with his own hands—how could it not hurt?
Shen Suwei lowered his eyelashes slightly, quietly staring at the scorched earth. After a moment, he suddenly scooped up some dirt from the ground and ate it. His mother screamed, embracing him and calling his name, her tears soaking his back.

He stopped.
He swallowed some of the dirt, while the rest slipped through his fingers onto the ground.
His emotions still surged within him like a frenzied demon; he stopped only because he didn’t want to scare the one behind him who was weaker than he was.
When he left, he simply grabbed a handful of charred earth and packed it into a pouch, taking it into the sect as a reminder to himself not to forget his original intentions.
In reality, it didn’t require such effort. As his cultivation level rose, these nightmares clung to him, and he could never truly forget.

Under the lamp, Shen Suwei made up his mind to divide the charred earth mixed with Floating Grass Shentu evenly into four clay jars for Xu Qianyu. He then took out the demon he had previously hunted from his magical tools, buried it in the soil, and moved the jars to the windowsill where they could bask in sunlight.
Strangely enough, from then on, he no longer had nightmares about the Floating Grass Shentu.

…
The disciples’ conference at Penglai arrived along with autumn. Hundreds of arenas stretched for ten miles, with disciples from all sects participating in a grand spectacle. The clouds over Penglai had been dyed in vibrant colors for several days, one part rosy, another part purple.
The preliminary rounds were easy, similar in difficulty to high-level swordsmanship arenas. The opponents were all outer sect disciples, and Xu Qianyu could say “Thank you” within ten moves and gracefully fly off the stage with a wooden sword.

She ran into her senior brothers Yun Chu, who were holding dusters, and they greeted her with smiles, “Are you participating, junior sister?”
Xu Qianyu replied inexplicably, “I just finished competing and am heading back.”
She was in a hurry to return to study her talismans and practice her internal skills.

Yun Chu exchanged surprised glances with each other. “Junior sister shows promise.”
They added, “We look forward to seeing you in the next chaotic battle.”
Just then, a thunderous bang resonated from afar, shaking the heavens and turning the sky crimson.

Yun Chu retracted her neck. “Which junior has blown up the furnace this time?”
When alchemists and artifact cultivators compete, they set up furnaces and control the fire on the arena, competing for days and nights. It’s inevitable that a few accidents will happen.
Xu Qianyu watched as a disciple in white flew across the sky like a shooting star, and many others went to check out the commotion.

Xu Qianyu, who still couldn’t control a sword, felt quite envious and shouted to them, “Help me see if it’s Yu Chu.”

“Got it, junior sister—”
“Qianyu!” Xu Qianyu turned around to see Yu Chu in a white dress standing behind her, her eyes sparkling. She smiled shyly, as if surprised, and said softly, “I knew you wouldn’t forget me.”
As she spoke, she casually linked her arm with Xu Qianyu’s, her demeanor relaxed like a swallow returning to its nest. “Your new hairstyle looks great.”

Xu Qianyu didn’t pull away. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on the arena?”
“Senior sister is watching over the furnace for me. It’s going to be another all-nighter, and I’m afraid I might fall asleep, so I came to buy some invigorating pills.” She led Xu Qianyu into the market.

The entire Penglai was buzzing with fierce competition, and the business was bustling. There were all kinds of magical tools, elixirs, and talismans, and vendors calling out, “Latest rankings for the swordsmanship arena—”
“Comprehensive sword styles from all sects—”
“Essential materials list for alchemists—”
Yu Chu went to pick out elixirs, while Xu Qianyu wandered to the other side and saw a crowd gathered around a stall selling protective talismans.

“Protective talismans, lucky charms, sword tassels—all blessed by the Sacred Wish Tree of the Magical Arts Palace. Guaranteed victory in battle, unyielding in advance!”
Seeing a stall selling lucky red strings, Xu Qianyu bought one.
The disciple in charge had a shallow dish in front of her, and according to the eight-character incantation she recited, two droplets of water burst forth from specific positions, colliding in mid-air and transforming into a red and white Koi fish, spinning as they landed in his hands.

He threaded the lucky bead onto the red string and handed it to Xu Qianyu, saying, “Wishing you everything goes smoothly, junior sister!”
Xu Qianyu looked at her wrist; there was a translucent double fish pendant, delicate and cute. She didn’t know if it would bring luck, but it was a nice charm.

Holding her sword, Xu Qianyu walked over and suddenly remembered that her senior brother was also participating in the disciples’ conference. She thought about getting one for him too and turned back.
But as she was about to speak, she remembered she didn’t know her senior brother’s birth date.
In the eight years since her previous life, she had never seen Shen Suwei celebrate his birthday. She seemed to recall having asked, but he had brushed it off, which felt a bit absurd.

Xu Qianyu asked Yu Chu, who was eagerly consuming pills, “Do you know Senior Brother Shen’s birthday?”
Yu Chu frowned. “How could I possibly know? Why don’t you just ask him?”
After eight years of interaction and still not knowing his birthday, Xu Qianyu certainly wouldn’t ask anyone else.

She headed straight for the competition venue, where two disciples were engaged in a fierce battle, the quivering sword lights dazzling like clouds. Xu Qianyu directly sat beside her senior brother Gao Fengxing in the viewing area, hugging her arms. “Senior brother, do you know Senior Brother Shen’s birthday?”

Gao Fengxing had difficulty tearing his gaze away from the arena, looking at her curiously, “I don’t know. Why are you asking this?”
“You don’t know either?”
“Isn’t it perfectly normal for me not to know?” Gao Fengxing scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “We only share the bond of teacher and student and the friendship of classmates. I haven’t been held in his arms or sat in his lap, so how would I know such details?”
Xu Qianyu found his tone slightly sarcastic and was puzzled. When had she ever been held by her senior brother or sat in his lap?
Seeing her stand up to leave, Gao Fengxing quickly tugged at her sleeve, slightly serious, “Hey, don’t ask him about his birthday. He seems to have some taboo about it and never mentions it.”
Xu Qianyu turned around and went back to the stall selling protective talismans.

The disciple welcomed her warmly. This striking junior sister, with vermilion on her forehead, looked somewhat gloomy and restrained. After a moment, she pointed at the red string on her wrist and said, “Then make one for me according to my birthday too.”

[Water Moon Flower Realm Volume 3: End]