Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today

Crows chased after Hui, crying out, their claws spread wide, beaks gaping. Hui ran, hands over his head. He circulated his death qi and fled at top speed.

Just once, he chanced a look back. Elder Sister, will you help this small cultivator?

The white-robed woman turned her head away, sheathing her sword.

Elder Sister! Hui cried silently.

Crows swooped down on him. They clawed at his flesh and bit away bits of his body, tearing him apart. Hui tried to swap to his crystalline form, but without a body, nothing happened. My talismans, my body cultivation, what do I have left?

The ducks! And… I can draw talismans using qi alone! It isn’t as fast as having drawn talismans on hand, but it’s better than having no spells!

The crows closed in on Hui again. Hui threw his hand out. Black qi sizzled on the air, drawing the shape of a talisman formula. A flat barrier burst out behind him, and the crows slammed into it. In a moment, they rallied and shattered it, hurtling at Hui again.

Hui spat blood as the backlash hit him. He wiped his mouth. Translucent silvery fluid stained the back of his hand. I am a soul. I don’t have real blood, after all.

And I get hit by backlash, too! That’s usually mitigated by the talismans—the worst that happens is the talisman burns up on its own. But when I draw one with qi to cast a spell directly, it’s still linked to me like an ordinary spell.

The crows descended again. Hui ducked against their blows as they tore his flesh open. I can’t play dead, souls don’t leave corpses, I—

Eh, wait. I don’t have to go all the way to dead, do I?

Hui collapsed suddenly, letting out a dramatic, pained scream. He huddled on the ground, putting his hands over his head. Silver fluid stained the poppies all around him. “Senior, please, I’m sorry, Senior, please, I can’t anymore, I’m going to dissipate, Senior…”

To make it even more realistic, he circulated his death qi, emanating an aura of death, and let a little bit of his qi leak into the surrounding area, as if he was too weak to hold it in anymore.

The crows hesitated, then wheeled away, swooping toward the ground. Where they met, Chen Wuya reformed. He flicked his sleeve at Hui dismissively. “I take it back. You aren’t fun to bully.”

“S…Senior…” Hui moaned pathetically, letting out a little more death aura.

“I know you’re faking it. Stop it,” Chen Wuya demanded.

Hui froze, then climbed to his feet, brushing off his robes. He stopped leaking qi and reached out, gathering the qi he’d released into a ball that he stored back in his dantian. “I am bleeding, Senior. That part isn’t a lie.”

“You’re a freak. You aren’t right,” Chen Wuya said abruptly.

Hui bowed. “Respectfully, Patriarch, one must be a bit strange to succeed in the world of cultivation. On a separate but related note, this small cultivator would like to remind Senior who attacked this small cultivator unprovoked moments ago.”

“You…” Chen Wuya narrowed his eyes.

“If you’re going to punish me for my thoughts, I might as well speak them aloud,” Hui stated, giving him a polite smile.

Chen Wuya sighed. “Fine. I won’t read your mind anymore. Close your wounds. To some extent, your willpower controls your soul. It’s possible to truly injure a soul, but a few little pecks can’t do that.”

Little pecks! I might’ve been acting like they wounded me much more than they did, but they still hurt like crazy! Hui scowled internally. Externally, he ran a hand over his arm. Where his hand passed, his tattered robes fixed themselves, and his wounds closed.

Sighing, Chen Wuya stretched. “I feel a lot better now. It’s not good to hold in your negative emotions, you know?”

I don’t feel better. Hold them in, Senior! Or at least, don’t take them out on this small cultivator! Hui cried.

“…ui. Xiao Hui. Can you hear me?”

“Fang Hua?” Hui said, perking up.

“I found your body, but…”

Hui nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

“Found it?” Chen Wuya asked.

“Yes, Senior.” Hui looked at the female cultivator, then offered her his hand. “Li Xiang… the Li Xiang I don’t know. Would you come with me?”

She shook her head. “My body is here. On the other side of this realm, it’s acting on instinct, protecting our souls. If I leave it, I won’t survive long. I’ve already been in this realm too long.”

Hui frowned. He hesitated, then tore a piece off his sleeve. He scribbled a talisman on it and handed it to the woman. It holds a scrap of my qi. The talisman formula is my attempt to replicate the connection between me and Fang Hua in spell form. I don’t know if it’ll work, but if nothing else, I should be able to find the scrap of my own qi. “Keep this. If I return to the other side… I should be able to find you, as long as you have that.”

She nodded and took the scrap. For just a moment, she hesitated, then looked at him. “Is my disciple doing well? I know he’s a bit of a scamp, but… I can’t help but hope he’s still alive.”

“Who, Senior?” Hui asked.

“Lan Taijian,” she said.

Hui stared. Come again, Senior?

“He was barely out of Qi Gathering when I… ended up like this. Last time I saw him, he was still a child, eleven, maybe twelve. If he’s still alive, he’d have to be at least fourth stage by now. Have you heard of him? Perhaps he’s an old man by now…”

Hui cleared his throat. “Lan Taijian… is a Peak Lord. He’s a fifth stage sword cultivator.”

How does Senior not know that? Isn’t she always with Li Xiang? Or… Hui swallowed. He pulled at his collar, suddenly nervous. Or… is she slowly dying, because she isn’t in her original body? Is she unable to properly watch the mortal world from her soul form? She must be the woman in Li Xiang’s sword, but then…

Argh! There’s no point worrying. I’ve been fine so far. Gu Tian, too. Maybe it’s because she was put into a sword that she’s slowly dying. She is a human soul, after all. Or maybe something went wrong when she was transferred into the sword, or she was already injured, or… there’s a million possibilities. Thinking too much will get me nowhere.

At the news of Lan Taijian, she smiled, a soft, gentle smile. “Good. That child… I hope he’s doing well. He’s always been a bit too proud for his own good. Doesn’t know to quit when he’d lost.”

“Ah… that’s true. Holds grudges, too,” Hui commiserated.

She snorted. “Sounds like my idiot disciple has given you a bit of trouble. My apologies.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Hui said, waving his hand.

“And… thank you for watching out for the other Li Xiang. I’m… not always awake, but I’ve seen glimpses, in the moments where I wake up. I’ve seen… both of you.”

Hui looked at her, then bowed once, deeply and sincerely.

“Hey! Are we getting your body or not?” Chen Wuya called, arms crossed impatiently.

“Of course, right away, Senior!” Hui shouted, running after Chen Wuya.

Behind him, the other Li Xiang stood there in long, billowing robes, much looser and longer than Hui’s Li Xiang would ever wear. The white fabric caught the wind and rustled around her, leaving her small and lonely. She sighed once, watching Hui as he walked away. “Even though I’ve told myself I’m dead a thousand times, even as my mind fades and my moments of clarity grow shorter, when I see the younger generation, I still…”

The words trailed off. The wind whisked them away, and they faded, unheard.

“If I wasn’t cursed, if I could have seen you again, Lan Taijian, my disciple… I wonder if everything could have turned out differently?”

She shook her head and patted her sword. “It’s too late for my regrets. This is your life, now. My Truth Sword… I leave the future to you, the Li Xiang he knows.”

The sword vibrated slightly under her hand, as if it acknowledged her words. The swordswoman’s face went slack, and her gaze trailed to the horizon. Once again, she unsheathed her sword.