Days passed since the quiet, intimate moment in Xiuyuan's room. Each morning, Lianxiu arrived at the training ground before the sun had fully risen, his wooden sword in hand, muscles taut, movements precise. He was no longer the hesitant, self-conscious boy from a week ago. Something had shifted — determination, focus, and a subtle desire to prove himself, not to anyone else, but to the quiet, steady presence of Xiuyuan and the standards of the sect.
Nie Xiaohuan stood near the edge of the courtyard, observing the other disciples spar. His eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a faint lift at the corner of his mouth as he watched Lianxiu move. Each strike, each measured step, showed confidence, control, and a deliberate thoughtfulness. Even with only a wooden sword, Lianxiu's precision had improved remarkably.
Roulan, nearby, nodded once, acknowledging his buddy's growth with a quiet approval. "He's learning fast," she said softly, her voice carrying only to those close enough to hear.
Lianxiu's arms moved steadily, blocking, parrying, stepping into strikes with a natural rhythm. The sweat on his brow and the determined glint in his eyes marked him as serious — no longer distracted, no longer hiding behind mistakes.
Master Yue Lan finally approached, her expression unreadable as always, but her voice carried a note of restrained approval. "You've improved," he said, simple, firm. "Your control, even with a wooden sword, is… impressive for your level."
Lianxiu's chest lifted slightly at the praise, though he kept his expression respectful, eyes lowered. "Thank you, master," he replied, voice calm but carrying a spark of pride.
Nie Xiaohuan's lips pressed into a thin line, hiding any further emotion.
Shen Lianxiu resumed his drills, movements fluid, precise, and deliberate. Every strike, every block, carried not only his growing skill but also the confidence of a boy who had worked hard and was finally beginning to see the results of his effort.
Xiuyuan, watching from the veranda above, allowed himself a faint nod, unseen by most. Progress, discipline, and heart — all of it mattered more than speed or flair. And Lianxiu, with each passing day, was learning that lesson beautifully.
The morning sun glinted off the courtyard stones, highlighting the sweat on young brows and the subtle rise and fall of determined chests.
The morning sun cast long shadows across the courtyard as disciples gathered for the announcement of the day's assignments. The air was filled with the usual murmur of anticipation, but Lianxiu's heart thumped louder than usual. He had trained hard these past days, poured every ounce of focus and energy into perfecting his wooden sword techniques, controlling his stance, and sharpening his reflexes.
Now, as the scroll of assignments was unrolled and read aloud, Lianxiu felt his pulse spike.
"Ling Xiuyuan, Zhou Qingrong… and Shen Lianxiu," the announcer intoned.
Lianxiu froze mid-step, eyes wide. He blinked rapidly, barely daring to believe it. He had… been assigned to a cultivation case — with Ling Xiuyuan.
A surge of joy, pride, and disbelief swelled in his chest. His lips curved into a nearly uncontrollable smile. Finally, his efforts had been recognized. Finally, he would step beyond practice drills and wooden swords, into the real world where his skills could matter. That too with his lover.
Lianxiu's chest swelled. He bowed deeply in gratitude. "Thank you, Shixiong, Shijie," he said, tone formal yet trembling with excitement.
As the disciples dispersed to prepare, Lianxiu could barely contain himself. He moved with brisk, almost bouncing steps toward Xiuyuan, careful to maintain decorum, though a gleam of excitement shone in his eyes.
Xiuyuan, standing quietly with Zhou Qingrong, observed him with a faint lift at the corner of his lips — subtle, but Lianxiu noticed it. His heartbeat quickened even more. The moment of recognition, the acknowledgment of his hard work, and the chance to truly accompany his love on a cultivation case… it was everything he had hoped for.
"Shixiong…" Lianxiu whispered under his breath, a shy, happy grin tugging at his lips. He didn't need to say more — his joy, his excitement, and the pride that had built up over days of hard training shone in every glance, every subtle movement.
Xiuyuan's sharp eyes caught the subtle glow of pride and anticipation in Lianxiu. The faintest warmth touched his chest as he regarded the boy, standing tall, eager, yet disciplined — a young disciple finally stepping into his own.
The day was just beginning, but for Shen Lianxiu, it already felt like the start of something extraordinary.
...
"It's near the western ridge," Zhou Qingrong said, tapping one of the parchment marks. "Villagers report strange lights at night, livestock missing. It could be a lesser spirit, but…" She glanced sideways at Xiuyuan, "I doubt it's so simple."
Xiuyuan leaned over the map, his profile serene in the slanting morning light. "We'll go at dusk. The yin energy will be stronger then — if something hides there, it will show itself."
Lianxiu stood quietly at the edge, trying not to fidget, though his eyes kept drifting to his shixiong. He had promised himself not to stare — not when others could see — but it was difficult. The way Xiuyuan's voice grew low and thoughtful when discussing the case, the way his long fingers traced the inked lines on the map — Lianxiu couldn't help it.
Zhou Qingrong noticed.
Her gaze flicked between the two of them — Xiuyuan, composed and unbothered; Lianxiu, trying very hard not to smile whenever Xiuyuan spoke. A small, knowing curve appeared on her lips. She said nothing, only folded her arms and remarked lightly,
"It seems your disciple is very eager to serve under you, Sect Leader."
Lianxiu startled, nearly dropping the small pouch he was holding. "I—I only wish to do my best!" he blurted.
Xiuyuan turned his head, calm as ever. "Enthusiasm is good," he said simply. "Let's see how much it helps in the field."
Zhou Qingrong's laughter was soft, almost inaudible. But the faint amusement in her eyes lingered — watching the way Lianxiu's ears turned scarlet, and how Xiuyuan, though he didn't say it, seemed oddly gentler than usual that morning.