Chapter Twelve: Cultivation

Lin Fei sighed helplessly and explained, “A brick’s strength lies in its surprise. Now that everyone knows, keeping it is pointless.”

Xia Yi, disappointed, jumped out from Lin Fei’s embrace and landed on the ground.

Lin Fei looked at her seriously. “You should leave this place now.”

In fact, Xia Yi had already broken through to the Mortal Realm long before their journey to Beiyou Mountain.

Her excuse of seclusion was merely a ruse to conceal her identity and prevent the elders of the Thirteen Peaks from discovering her true strength.

During this time, even Lin Fei had to admit to being somewhat surprised by Xia Yi’s talent.

Xia Yi blinked her big eyes silently, her gaze silently asking: What about you?

Lin Fei gently rubbed her small head and replied softly, “I’m close too. It won’t take long.”

Upon hearing this, Xia Yi suddenly cheered, as if she had found a treasure, and bounced excitedly toward the depths of the small woods.

“Where are you going?” Lin Fei asked.

The girl’s voice was tinged with uncontrollable excitement: “I’m going to find my little brick!”

...

As time passed, the second year at Horizon Peak quietly arrived.

As expected, Xia Yi was the first to demonstrate the power of the Mortal Realm and was soon taken away from Horizon Peak.

All of this came after nearly a year of deliberately suppressing her cultivation to delay the breakthrough.

At parting, Xia Yi said a reluctant goodbye to Lin Fei, turning back every few steps, her eyes full of unwillingness.

Lin Fei was somewhat puzzled. After all, they would meet again in just two or three months—why be so sorrowful?

Even if they never met again, what harm would there be?

To Lin Fei, the path of cultivation was paramount; emotions and desires were merely external distractions.

Yet, seeing Xia Yi’s tear-filled eyes, he suddenly felt that perhaps these emotions were not entirely meaningless.

So this time, he sincerely etched the little girl’s face into his heart.

...

In the days that followed, prodigious disciples like Fang Zhenghua, Zhao Xiuyuan, and Zhang Lie successively reached the peak of the Ninth Stage of Qi Refinement. Like drawn bows, they were ready to break through to the Mortal Realm at any moment.

Lin Fei, however, remained the calmest figure among the crowd.

His life continued leisurely; waking naturally, basking in the warm sun, as if nothing had changed.

Every morning, when Lin Fei stepped out of his bamboo hut, the disciples of Horizon Peak would instinctively cast their gazes at him.

Those looks no longer held disdain or contempt but instead brimmed with reverence and an undeniable... curiosity.

In any case, Lin Fei had quietly become another focal point on Horizon Peak after Xia Yi.

Time flowed on to another dusk.

Lin Fei arrived at the mountaintop, settled into a rattan chair, closed his eyes to rest, and found himself missing the little girl’s chattering voice. Her departure had brought quiet to his ears but also a subtle unfamiliarity.

The spring breeze gently stirred the youth’s long hair, enhancing his aura of transcendence.

Footsteps and the crisp clashing of sword and blade echoed nearby.

Disciples of the Sword Sect naturally had to learn swordsmanship.

As their realms steadily advanced, Di Yuan began distributing wooden swords and teaching basic sword techniques, laying a solid foundation for the future Sword Tomb expedition.

The mountaintop, open and spacious, was naturally an ideal place to practice swordplay.

Since receiving the wooden sword, Lin Fei had casually placed it in a corner, alongside a dust-covered beginner’s manual, seemingly destined never to see the light of day again.

The sun set behind the western hills, casting golden light over Horizon Peak as twilight gradually enveloped the mountaintop.

As time passed, the surrounding noise and footsteps faded, leaving only the sound of wooden swords slicing through the air.

Lin Fei opened his eyes and glanced at the slender figure at the mountaintop’s center before closing them again.

That was Qin Qianqian, a diligent and hardworking girl, whose talent was only average and who still lingered in the Sixth Stage of Qi Refinement.

The sound of wooden swords cutting through the air continued deep into the night, only ceasing when the last light vanished on the horizon.

Lin Fei stirred from a drowsy sleep to the soft patter of spring rain on his face, a faint whisper of sound.

He sighed lightly—spring rain comes quickly and leaves just as quietly.

He thought to himself that it would be best to avoid overnight stays on the mountaintop in the future—not only was it noisy, but one could never escape getting caught in the rain.

Rising to his feet, the youth noticed an unfamiliar item beside the bamboo chair—a teal umbrella, delicate and seemingly meant for a woman.

Though puzzled, Lin Fei did not inquire further.

He opened the umbrella, lifted the chair, and leisurely set off down the mountain path.

The next day, Lin Fei ascended the mountaintop once more. He gently placed the teal umbrella beside the bamboo chair and closed his eyes to rest, immersing himself in his own world.

The sky was exceptionally clear today, cloudless and bright, as if promising fair weather without a drop of rain.

Qin Qianqian tiptoed over and stood beside Lin Fei, hesitant, her cheeks faintly flushed.

Though Lin Fei did not open his eyes, he nodded slightly, as if reading the girl’s thoughts.

Seeing this, Qin Qianqian quietly retrieved her umbrella and turned to resume her sword training.

Her diligence was undeniable; she trained day and night. Yet Lin Fei observed that her swordsmanship made little progress, seemingly trapped in a cycle of futile repetition.

Sometimes, in the stillness of night, Lin Fei could faintly hear her soft sobs, as if frustrated by her slow advancement.

This continued for half a month until one misty moonlit night.

For the first time, Lin Fei broke the silence while she practiced.

“When you strike, add a bit more force.”

Qin Qianqian looked toward Lin Fei, startled for a moment before a glimmer of realization sparked in her eyes. She nodded repeatedly, as if understanding.

“You must coordinate your breath with the strike, gathering your spiritual energy into your right hand.”

“No, that’s not the right way to strike.”

“Your breathing is chaotic; you need to steady it.”

“It’s too slow; increase your speed.”

“Wrong again; try once more.”

The youth’s tone was calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, yet as Qin Qianqian listened to these straightforward critiques, her face reddened more and more, a wave of shame nearly bringing her to tears.

She realized her efforts, in Lin Fei’s eyes, still left much room for improvement.

Yet she did not give up. Clenching her teeth, she persevered. Deep down, she sensed that if she chose to quit or complain now, Lin Fei would withdraw his guidance entirely.