The Gatekeeper made his decision later that day: expel Lin Weiwei from Mount Hua, and send Chu Xi away for two years of field experience.

“Field experience” essentially meant a short period of banishment. Chu Xi’s spiritual root would be temporarily sealed, and she would be sent to a faraway village where she’d have to earn her own living. A reasonable way to teach a snobbish highborn the reality of life, though a hard punishment that I had never anticipated for her.

Chu Xi wept and begged, and at some point she screamed and swore to tear me and Lin Weiwei to pieces for it, but none changed the Gatekeeper’s mind. I supposed the Gatekeeper knew deep down that Bai Ye was right. Chu Xi would be too far gone if she kept living under the shelter of her all-too-powerful father.

Bai Ye wasn’t pleased with the judgment though. “She won’t get away so easily,” he promised to me on our way back. “The Gatekeeper can’t protect her forever. She’s not done paying for this.”

The spite in his voice was unfamiliar, and for a moment I couldn’t decide if I should be touched by his concern for me or afraid of his penchant for vengeance. “This is already far above my expectation, Master,” I said. “I’m really grateful …”

I wanted to say that I was grateful for him saving me from the venom as well, but I couldn’t bring myself to mention it.

Bai Ye shook his head. “They have no idea …” he paused and didn’t finish the sentence. “I should’ve mentioned this to you before, Qing-er. Don’t let Twin Stars get in contact with poison, and try not to kill too much with them. I promise I will explain it to you one day … but for now, just keep this in mind.”

His tone was so serious that I couldn’t help saying: “Master, I know Twin Stars are important to you, and I already lost them once. I shouldn’t keep them any longer—”

“You need them. Even with my spiritual power, your swordsmanship won’t see much improvement unless you use these swords.”

I winced at the words “my spiritual power”. It reminded me too much of yesterday. Luckily, we had arrived at his hall, and I hopped off his flying sword as if it was lava beneath my feet.

Bai Ye frowned. “Qing-er—”

“Master, I … I feel a bit dizzy. I think … maybe I need some more rest after yester— … after the injury,” I stammered, lowering my burning face.

He looked at me long and hard, then sighed. “Very well. Have a good rest.”

I ran straight to my room, not daring to look back.

~ ~

I stayed in my room for the rest of the day. The next morning, I got up later than my usual hours so I wouldn’t run into Bai Ye practicing in the garden, and I slipped out silently for Xie Lun’s hall.

I despised myself for the awkwardness. I knew I should probably talk to Bai Ye about the dual cultivation, but I wasn’t ready, and I tried to occupy myself with other things to push the thought out of my mind.

Qi Lian was all wide eyes when I arrived. “Did Chu Xi really try to kill you?” His incredulous gaze swept me head to toe. “You recovered so quickly from being bitten by that beast. I heard its venom is one of the strongest in the world.”

“Master Bai Ye is also one of the strongest in the world,” Xie Lun commented. “You underestimate his ability to save his disciple, Qi Lian.”

Qi Lian grimaced. “True … But speaking of Master Bai Ye …” he exaggerated with a shudder. “Is he always like that? He seems … a bit difficult to talk to.”

“Master doesn’t spend much time around other people,” I explained, trying my best to keep my voice level. “He might sound harsh sometimes, but that’s just the air he carries. He’s actually … a very kind person.”

“You seem afraid of him too though,” Qi Lian countered. “You didn’t want to ride on the same sword with him, did you?”

So Qi Lian had mistaken my hesitation back then as reluctance. I didn’t correct him—it was a misunderstanding that worked in my favor.

“I heard your master used to be quite close to ours, and the Gatekeeper as well,” Xie Lun said. “They had been friends since before Mount Hua’s time. But something happened two or three hundred years ago, and they drifted apart. Master Bai Ye changed a lot afterward. That was when he moved off the main peak to his current hall.”

I hadn’t heard of this part of Bai Ye’s past before, and it intrigued me. “Does anyone know what happened?” I asked. “Master has never mentioned this.”

Xie Lun shrugged. “Neither has ours. It seems to be a piece of history that the masters don’t want us to know. I only learned it while studying the architecture of Mount Hua’s halls. The notes to the drawings recorded the years when they were built, along with a few relevant events.”

“Disagreements are inevitable once a sect grows big enough,” Qi Lian said, clearly uninterested in the subject. “How are you feeling now, Yun Qing-er? Are you ready to resume practice?”

“I don’t feel the pain anymore …” I hesitated. The truth was, Bai Ye’s spiritual power had made me feel so refreshed and full of energy that I feared they would notice the change.

“Not at all?” Xie Lun asked. “Your spiritual power … I don’t mean to judge, but your spiritual power seemed weak for fighting such a strong venom. How did Master Bai Ye help you recover so quickly?”

I almost froze at the question, and I hoped that I hid my embarrassment well enough. “He … When I came to, he was transferring spiritual power to me … He told the Gatekeeper it took him five days …”

A look of envy appeared on Qi Lian’s face. “Five days? Our master would never go that far for us … If one dies, so be it. There are enough of us to spare.”

Xie Lun laughed. “Our master? He won’t do five minutes. I hope you know how blessed you are to have Master Bai Ye, Yun Qing-er.”

I smiled, though I wondered: was I blessed, or cursed?