A Brief History of Master and Disciple

Gong Ning was currently sitting in the Heart-Sword Hall.
Twilight dyed the horizon the color of rouge.
Gong Ning added another stick of sandalwood to the incense burner.
Her fingertips unconsciously caressed the cloud-brocade fabric resting on her lap, which had now taken on her body heat.
After her disciple won the competition, she had gone to the Sword Mound to search for that Soul-Controlling Sword.
Since then, Gong Ning had been waiting here for a long time.
It had been a bright, sunny day at noon, yet now a cool breeze was blowing, once again disheveling the hair she had tucked behind her ear.
“Look how anxious you are.”
Jiang Yuyao said with a laugh.
Gong Ning’s expression didn’t change.
Though her thoughts had been exposed, she didn’t want to admit it, so she could only reply, “I’m not anxious.”
“Still not anxious? At this time in the past, you would already be in the kitchen preparing dinner.”
“Are you hungry?”
“I am a Nascent Soul; how could I feel hunger?”
“Then don’t rush me.”
Finally, a familiar figure appeared at the courtyard gate.
Gong Ning’s heart instantly settled, but another unknown emotion suddenly arose.
“Master, is this the sword?”
Her disciple seemed to have no intention of seeking credit.
She displayed the sharp blade in her hand, seeming to be extremely fond of it.
“As soon as I walked into the Sword Mound and circulated the Spirit Refinement Art, this sword responded to me. It must be this one, right?”
Gong Ning smiled and nodded her head.
She stood up, holding the cloud-brocade on her forearm, and stroked her disciple’s head.
She was growing more and more fond of this gesture, because every time she did it, the little girl would either squint her eyes in comfort or proactively rub against her palm.
She wanted to be direct and give her the gift in her hands, but she suddenly hesitated.
In the end, she only said, “Are you hungry? What do you want to eat?”
“I’m fine, I love whatever Master makes. If there’s something I particularly want to eat, it would be lotus seed congee with two egg pancakes.”
When she was first brought into the sect by her master in her past life, she had eaten lotus seed congee and egg pancakes.
In every day that followed, as she was hunted and condemned, Tao Lingling would remember that beautiful memory.
Now, bringing it up again, it was as if the soft, sticky, and sweet taste was once again invading her mouth, the fresh and elegant aroma once again lingering in her nose.
Tao Lingling couldn’t help but touch her stomach.
As she lowered her head, she happened to see the fabric hanging from her master’s hand.
“Eh, cloud-brocade?”
“You recognize this?”
“Yes, I’ve seen it, but I couldn’t buy it anywhere.”
‘It seems Lingling was once from a wealthy family, no wonder she’s so skilled at needlework.’
It was precisely because she mentioned it that Gong Ning found an opening to speak, “Lingling, this piece of cloud-brocade is a gift from your master, to congratulate you on winning the competition.”
Tao Lingling sheathed the Soul-Controlling Sword and took the fabric from her master’s hands.
She didn’t know much; besides killing, she only knew needlework.
In her youth, she found it tiresome and boring, but the hardships she later endured made her fall in love with this tedious task again.
“It’s so beautiful… Ah, I forgot to buy a thimble and embroidery thread at Mystic Sky Peak. They don’t sell those things in the Heart-Sword Hall.”
“You can go tomorrow. You’re already very tired today, you should rest.”
“No, I’ll go now. How could I bear to put aside such beautiful fabric?”
Her disciple quickly ran out.
In this world, flying artifacts, though expensive, were also quite common.
Some people would take on the task of carrying passengers; these people were called Spirit-Sky Ferriers.
The journey within the Mystic Sky Sword Sect was not short, so some disciples with flying artifacts would use this opportunity to earn some spirit merits.
Fortunately, after winning the competition, the Mystic Sky Sword Sect had awarded her some spirit merits, so she could make it back in time for dinner.
“Look how captivated you are by her.”
Jiang Yuyao had disappeared at some point and reappeared at another.
“What, are you jealous? That I can have such a good disciple.”
“Tsk, I am a person who is to become an immortal. How can I be distracted by matters of a disciple?”
“But you haven’t become an immortal yet. Go, buy me some eggs and lotus seeds.”
“I see you’re getting better and better at ordering people around.”
“So, are you eating or not?”
“I’m eating.”
The night always passed quickly, and Gong Ning always felt that time was not enough.
She felt that she and Lingling were still not close enough.
During dinner, it was always Lingling who did the talking, while she couldn’t say much.
Afterward, it was time to sleep, as if the world only left so little time for people to be tender with each other.
The next day, the sun hung high in the sky.
When Gong Ning woke up, she saw Lingling sitting in the main room, her hair a little messy and her face very tired, yet she was full of spirit.
Her hands were hidden behind her back, and she was snickering about something.
“Why do you look like this? Didn’t you sleep last night?”
Tao Lingling no longer hid it and took out a piece of clothing from behind her back.
“Ta-da! Master, I finished it!”
Gong Ning was stunned, looking at the brand-new long dress.
Yesterday it was just fabric, today it had already taken shape.
Not only that, but the stitching at the seams was also particularly perfect, and there was even beautiful lotus embroidery on the fabric, exquisite and unparalleled.
“You… this, how did you do it?”
A beautiful piece of clothing would take three to five days of careful deliberation.
If it were for the royalty and nobles of the imperial court, it would take months to start.
‘Is my disciple’s skill, at such a young age, even stronger than those who have been embroidering their entire lives?’
Of course, no one could know that in her previous life, after Tao Lingling became the Witch of Calamity, she was either fighting or fiddling with a needle and thread.
Over time, her skills naturally became profound.
In addition, she wasn’t embroidering alone last night; she had called out both ethereal spirits.
When her spirit energy ran out, she would fiercely consume Qi Gathering Pills.
She had been busy like this for the entire night, a luxurious use of resources that would make even Bai Peilan weep.
Gong Ning noticed that the dress did not match Lingling’s figure.
A startling thought popped into her mind, and she couldn’t help but hesitate.
She asked tentatively, “This dress… it’s not for you to wear, is it?”
“It’s a gift for Master.”
‘As I thought…’
Gong Ning’s unruly heart began to pound, but her hands were even more unruly, accepting it from her disciple’s hands without the slightest hint of refusal.
“Quick, Master, try it on, try it on. Master will definitely look beautiful in this.”
Gong Ning was speechless, mostly because she didn’t know what to say.
She silently turned and went back into the room, taking off her original outer robe.
Slowly, carefully, she put on this dress.
The weight of the new skirt draped down her waistline, and the feel of the silk against her skin made the tips of her ears burn.
The moment the moon-white skirt was reflected in the mirror, Gong Ning’s fingertips paused slightly.
The silk surface had a soft, pearl-like luster, and the blooming lotuses were faintly visible amidst the fabric, the stitches so fine that they were almost invisible.
This was made by her disciple, stitch by stitch, forgoing sleep and food.
Every detail was a trace of her.
She raised her hand to stroke the looped button at the collar, her fingertips unconsciously caressing the raised pattern—the one given by the Sword Immortal had always felt a little tight in the chest.
The wide sleeves brushed past her temples, the fabric as soft as fine spring snow.
A coolness seeped up from her wrist, as if it had dripped onto the softest part of her heart.
The person in the mirror had the same calm features as before, but the ripples in her eyes reflected a tenderness she had never had before, a tenderness that belonged to a woman.