Cut yourself on the arm. I want to test my new ability, Ling suggested cheerfully, as though she were asking him to try a new dish.
Okay, Xuefeng agreed, equal parts curious and hesitant. Testing her newfound power intrigued him, even if the method was a little unconventional.
He unsheathed his Rank 3 sword and made a shallow cut across his palm. The sting barely registered before the golden necklace around his neck flared to life, its radiant light casting warm shadows across the room. A rush of golden Qi surged through his body, reaching his wounded hand almost instantly. He watched, spellbound, as the cut knitted itself together in mere seconds, leaving his palm unmarked.
"Wow… that's incredible," he whispered, flexing his fingers in disbelief. The energy not only healed him but also washed through his body like a warm tide, erasing fatigue and leaving him feeling revitalized.
It doesn't just heal injuries, you know, Ling chimed in smugly. It nourishes your body, erases exhaustion, and keeps you in peak condition. With me around, you'll never get tired again. Admit it—I'm amazing.
Xuefeng chuckled, though concern flickered in his thoughts. Doesn't this drain your Fate Qi? I don't want us scrambling for another Fate Fragment too soon. You know how dangerous that was.
Don't worry, Ling replied, her tone breezy. This upgrade bought us about a year before we need another fragment. Besides, with the crystal's help, I can absorb Spirit Essence from the air and create Spirit Qi on my own now. Think of me as your personal, endless storage artifact. Am I not the best thing to happen to you?
A year? Xuefeng groaned inwardly. You're going to be the death of me. I barely survived the last deadline.
Oh, stop whining. You get all the benefits, Ling countered, her words dripping with amusement.
Xuefeng groaned and turned to the mirror, catching a faint glimpse of the problem that had been gnawing at him since earlier: a mark on his neck. Not just any mark, either—a kiss-shaped brand left behind by Princess Shan. It seemed to shimmer mockingly under the morning light.
His stomach churned with unease. Speaking of benefits... Ling, can you get rid of this? If Wuying sees it again, she'll interrogate me until I'm nothing but a puddle of guilt.
Ling let out a snicker, sharp and cutting. It's not exactly an injury, you know. Maybe you should wear it proudly? A badge of honor?
Ling! His voice rose in desperation. This is life or death. Help me out here!
Fine, fine, she relented with a theatrical sigh. Channel your Spirit Qi and accelerate the regeneration of the blood vessels. Even someone like you can manage that.
Rolling his eyes, Xuefeng did as she instructed, focusing his Qi on the mark. To his surprise, the technique worked flawlessly. The offending blemish faded away like an evaporating shadow.
"You really do learn something new every day," he muttered, shaking his head at his own cluelessness.
There. Crisis averted, Ling said smugly. Now, about that Spirit Art. I've got some excellent Movement and Defensive techniques unlocked. Your call.
Without hesitation, he replied, Movement. I want to combine it with my Sword Art to up my game.
Ling hummed thoughtfully but didn't reply, the familiar buzz of her energy signaling she was already working on it. Feeling a burst of motivation, Xuefeng changed into his training gear and stepped out of his room—only to stop dead in his tracks.
By the pond, Wuying and Princess Shan stood together, laughing.
Laughing.
The sound carried across the courtyard, light and melodic, as if the animosity from the day before had never existed.
Xuefeng blinked, his mind unable to compute the scene before him. Yesterday they were ready to claw each other's eyes out. Now they're giggling like best friends? He pinched his arm. The pain confirmed he wasn't hallucinating.
Both women noticed him at once and began walking toward him, their smiles warm and inviting.
"What were you talking about?" he asked, trying to mask his disbelief under a layer of nonchalance.
"We were planning your training," Wuying said brightly, her earlier frostiness replaced by a suspiciously cheerful demeanor. "Princess Shan offered to help, and I thought, why not? Two instructors are better than one, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Princess Shan chimed in, her tone teasing. "Won't you enjoy being trained by two beauties?"
Xuefeng forced a nod, though his brain screamed at him to run. "Uh, sure. Sounds great."
"We decided to use the Training Grounds this time," Wuying continued, gesturing toward the estate's open fields. "No point in wrecking the courtyard. Besides, it should be quiet around now."
"Good idea," he said automatically, though the growing sense of foreboding was hard to ignore.
As they walked toward the Training Grounds, the two women fell into a lively conversation about skincare routines. Xuefeng trailed behind, completely bemused. Women... I'll never understand them.
The Training Grounds were nearly empty, the morning sun casting long shadows over the sparring dummies and open mats. It felt like stepping onto a stage where an unspoken play was about to begin.
"Let's start with a warm-up," Wuying announced cheerfully. "A few laps around the field should do."
Xuefeng exhaled in relief. That didn't sound too bad. Maybe he'd overestimated their penchant for cruelty.
Then Wuying tossed him a set of gleaming metallic bracelets. "Here, put these on. They'll help build strength."
Catching them mid-air, Xuefeng slipped them onto his wrists and ankles without much thought. The moment the last one clicked into place, his knees buckled. A crushing weight bore down on him, and the ground seemed to tilt.
"What... How heavy are these?" he croaked, his legs trembling.
"Only about half a ton altogether," Princess Shan said casually, her expression betraying no sympathy.
Xuefeng's stomach sank. They planned this, he realized, despair settling over him like a cold mist.
"No problem," he gritted out, forcing himself upright despite the unbearable weight. "Let's do this."
The women exchanged a knowing glance before breaking into a jog, their movements graceful and unencumbered. Despite the ache in his legs and the leaden feeling in his chest, Xuefeng followed, his pride unwilling to let him collapse—at least not yet.
By the time they finished several laps, a small crowd had gathered, drawn by the unusual spectacle of the Liu Clan's Young Master slogging along like a mule under a mountain. Ling had intervened three times, channeling her Fate Qi to keep him on his feet, but it wasn't enough to dull the agony coursing through his body.
Finally, Wuying slowed to a stop and approached him, her hand brushing against one of the bracelets. With a faint click, the weight eased, and Xuefeng nearly wept with relief.
"Can I take them off now?" he asked, hope creeping into his voice.
Wuying smiled sweetly, her expression deceptively kind. "Why would you? You seem to like them so much. I think you should keep them on for the entire session."
Before he could protest, she grabbed his arm and led him toward the wooden dummies. Behind her, Princess Shan offered him a sympathetic shrug, though her smirk suggested she was enjoying his torment.
Xuefeng sighed, the weight of the bracelets nothing compared to the weight of his impending doom. This is going to be a long day.