A Dream Recalled

Gu Bei found it genuinely difficult to part with his master.

After all, his master was both stunningly beautiful and endearing in personality, and the thought of not seeing her for some time truly tugged at his heart.

Yet, it was certainly not a matter of life or death, or an eternal separation.

He reasoned that since he would be working away for three years, whether his master became a ‘left-behind child’ or a lonely elder for that period, he would return after three years.

Besides, perhaps once he left, Ning Wanzhuang would simply forget he ever existed?

In that case, his going or not going would amount to the same thing.

However, he truly worried about Mu Qingsi, but the intimacy they shared in childhood had long since faded, and some of his words inadvertently carried a heavier weight when he spoke them.

Though the words left his lips, he never considered how the person hearing them might interpret his meaning.

To Mu Qingsi’s ears, Gu Bei’s words resonated no differently than if he had declared, ‘I, Gu Buqi, can’t go on living; I’m going to die!’

Mu Qingsi sat in her chair, feeling dizzy, as if the world spun around her, and the small house suddenly seemed desolate and cold.

Before her eyes, a hazy image arose of her disciple being brought back, covered in a white cloth.

“What do you want his life for?”

Mu Qingsi murmured, her voice laced with helplessness.

“My Buqi is neither a successful cultivator nor exceptionally talented; he can only say pleasant, coaxing words.

Why must he die?”

She rose in a daze, only to look around with utter bewilderment once standing.

What should she do?

Or rather, what did her good-for-nothing disciple want her to do?

In all these years, it had been her seemingly useless disciple who had painstakingly maintained the Minor Sword Sect.

She, of course, knew the extent of her unruly disciple’s capabilities.

With little skill and limited ability, how much hardship and suffering must he have endured to uphold a small sect?

‘I… have I been a burden to him?’

‘Perhaps… perhaps it would be better to let him do what he truly wants?’

This top-ranked contender on the Latent Dragon Ranking, a peerless prodigy of his generation.

This individual, whose spiritual roots were crippled shortly after birth by malicious harm, severing their path of cultivation, later scaled the Fangzhang Immortal Mountain (TL Note: A mythical immortal mountain in Chinese folklore.) in the Inner East Sea, clad only in simple clothes and bare-handed, refusing the paths offered by a hundred thousand immortals on the mountain, forging their own unique path where soul, life, and sword merged into one.

This Sword Fairy, after achieving some success, went directly to the Ten Thousand Armory to test their sword, forcing the Ten Thousand Armory, a first-rank sect representing the pinnacle of martial arts in all Kyushu, to declare, ‘As long as the Little Sword Immortal wields a sword, the Ten Thousand Armory shall not appoint a Sword Dao Weapon Master,’ establishing themself as the foremost sword wielder under heaven.

This Sword Fairy, who firmly believed that all their desires could be achieved with a sword, whose title ‘Little Sword Immortal’ was known throughout the world while their true name remained obscure, for the first time in their life, began to doubt themself.

For the first time in her life, she encountered a problem that her sword could not resolve, and her inner sword seemed equally powerless.

A pure sword heart, impervious to all worldly mental ploys, inexplicably wavered.

She felt utterly lost and at a loss.

Her luminous sword heart was tainted with a speck of dust.

With eyes like distant stars filled with confusion, she walked to the bedside, then collapsed forward as her vision went black, falling into unconsciousness.

Perhaps it was the turmoil in her heart, but she had a dream, a rather distant dream.

“Master,” a blurry, distant child’s voice called out.

It was somewhat familiar, somewhat intimate, yet it seemed… she hadn’t heard it in a very long time.

“Master?” The child’s voice became slightly clearer.

She snapped back to reality.

Looking intently, she couldn’t find the source of the voice.

Until her skirt was gently tugged.

She looked down and instinctively offered a gentle smile.

“What is it?”

“Master was walking, then suddenly stopped.”

“Oh… Master was just thinking,” she replied softly.

‘This is a dream.’

She knew it well.

But the small, obedient, and timid child before her was someone she hadn’t seen in a very, very long time.

Or rather, the docile disciple who allowed her closeness was someone she hadn’t seen in a very long time.

‘Even if it’s just a dream, it’s alright to escape for a while.’

She bent down slightly and took the small hand of the tiny person beside her.

It felt bony, with calluses and sores covering it.

She could feel the small hand in her palm instinctively try to pull away.

Then, as if not daring to struggle further, it rested nervously in her hand.

“It’s alright,” she said, smiling softly to comfort him.

Then she saw those eyes, somewhat clouded from malnutrition, glance at her smiling face with a mixture of awe and shame, quickly darting away as if scorched by fire.

She knew what he was ashamed of.

But now, she should pretend not to know.

Since it was a rare dream, a dream from a time before she and this unruly disciple had reached their later estrangement, she wanted to re-experience every detail.

She mused that, in the very beginning, she rarely smiled.

It was merely fate; she had simply encountered him, happened upon him, and saved him.

He was simply agreeable enough that she considered taking him as a disciple.

Initially, she only thought he was a clever, sharp child who, for some reason, possessed certain principles and boundaries.

Later, she smiled more often.

“Master, where are we… going?” A timid voice interrupted her reverie.

“Home,” she replied, looking down at him.

She hesitated, wondering whether to pick him up.

Yet, she feared that sudden intimacy might startle him.

Even if it was only in a dream.

However, her unruly disciple was very well-behaved at this time; if she picked him up, he would be startled at most but wouldn’t dare to struggle…

‘It’s rather tempting.’

Still, she decided against it.

He still harbored secrets in his heart, and if too much closeness frightened him, he might become too afraid to confide in her.

The season was late summer, with frequent thunderstorms…

‘No rush.’

Flying on her sword meant they didn’t need to walk much further.

However, Mu Qingsi, holding the hand of her yet-to-be unruly disciple, walked very slowly.

It still took some time.

When she saw the wooden house before her, she felt a pang of emotion.

She rarely felt sentimental.

Not when she climbed the immortal mountain alone, nor when she shattered the Armory with a single sword.

Only upon seeing this small wooden house did a wave of emotion rise within her.

The small wooden house before her was one she had built herself.

It was crude and rudimentary.

The hall and bedroom were undivided; there wasn’t even a proper bed.

How had it transformed into the neat and tidy home it later became?

It was when her unruly disciple one day told her he had learned how to build houses, and then, under her watchful eye, he constructed it piece by piece.

Though she neither needed nor cared for such things, that unruly disciple did.

But those were matters for later; for now… it was best to first partition a room.

In truth, she had initially built another separate room, but the person she was then differed from the person she was now.

‘It’s just a dream, so what if I want to be closer?’

“You wait here for a moment; your master will build a partition for you.”

She reached out and stroked little Gu Bei’s straw-like hair.

Amidst little Gu Bei’s hesitant expression, she led him into the house.

“Sit for a while; it will be ready soon.”

Then she gently lifted him and placed him on the only chair in the room.

His short legs couldn’t even reach the ground, yet he sat so awkwardly, not daring to fully rest his bottom.

For Mu Qingsi, creating a partition was simple; there was some leftover wood from when she had built the small wooden house, saving her the effort of felling trees.

As she busied herself, Gu Bei, watching her from behind, grew increasingly awkward.

Having just arrived, brought home by someone, and watching them busy themselves tidying the house for him, he yearned to help in some way, rather than sitting there like a young master.

But he dared not speak, and thus felt doubly tormented.

As for the result, her room-partitioning skills were mediocre, merely making it habitable.

Having traveled the jianghu for quite some time, she had prepared some essentials, even if she didn’t use them herself.

Bedding, for instance.

So, once the bed frame was ready, she could lay out the bedding immediately.

As she made the bed, she sensed her unruly disciple behind her growing even more uneasy.

She wasn’t surprised; this unruly disciple had reacted the same way back then.

It was as if he wasn’t accustomed to others doing things for him, as if he had never been cared for.

Although he had said he wasn’t from this world, he hadn’t spoken much about his previous life.

Though she hadn’t pressed him either.

However, she didn’t let her unruly disciple suffer for too long; even she could make a bed.

Though, in terms of effectiveness, it had a similar charm to the partition she had just constructed.

Next came preparing a meal.

As a Nascent Soul Fairy, Mu Qingsi could naturally subsist on wind and dew, but her unruly disciple had never reached Foundation Establishment; let alone achieving bigu (bìgǔ – the ability to abstain from food), he couldn’t even consume bigu pills .

Logically, she should have developed excellent culinary skills.

But after only a few days of cooking, her unruly disciple had taken over the task.

It wasn’t about the taste; after all, for Gu Bei at the time, something cooked and edible was already a remarkable condition.

He took on the task because he felt uneasy being served like a young master after being rescued.

But that was then, and this was now.

Mu Qingsi also rather wanted to see her unruly disciple timidly and shyly seize the ‘right’ to cook again.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” she asked, looking back.

As if captivated by the Sword Fairy’s enchanting gaze, the small unruly disciple merely nodded blankly.

“Wait a moment.”

Then Gu Bei’s pupils dilated in shock.

He watched as his immortal master, who had only just taken him in today, used that beautiful longsword—which danced like ice shards from the Jade Pond and stood proud as a winter plum in snow—to chop vegetables.

Her technique was clumsy.

Even the pots and pans she pulled out were covered in a thick layer of dust.

They seemed never to have been used since purchase.

Mu Qingsi was indeed not skilled in cooking; with her status, she was a distinguished guest wherever she went, never having the opportunity to cook for herself.

The rare times she prepared food were during her ascent of the immortal mountain.

She would find an ice cave, light a fire, and warm some provisions.

But the good news was that her cooking talent was decent; even her first serious attempt at cooking wasn’t so bad as to be inedible, let alone now in a dream.

In fact, being able to make food so unpalatable it couldn’t be swallowed was a talent in itself.

Mu Qingsi was, after all, a Sword Fairy, not a Food Fairy; the dishes she made were merely passable in color, aroma, and taste—perhaps even less than passable.

But Gu Bei ate every last bite.

“Right, should I also build a privy (TL Note: An old-fashioned term for a toilet or outhouse.)?”

“A privy?”

“Yes, since you have not yet transcended the cycle of the five grains (TL Note: A euphemism referring to the digestive process and excretion, literally ‘the cycle of the five grains’.), you will eventually need to relieve yourself,” she said, her tone cool and detached.

Of course, while she had said the same thing back then, she hadn’t truly thought much of it at the time.

Now, however, it was to see her unruly disciple stammering, his face flushed red, once more.

‘He was so adorable when he was little…’

‘How did he become so… when he grew up?’

“Then, then that can be excused…

I, disciple, will find a way myself…”

Gu Bei was truly on the verge of tears.

“How can that be?”

“Since I’ve taken you as a disciple, these things are naturally my responsibility as your master—what style do you prefer?

One for squatting, like in ordinary homes, or one for sitting?”

Mu Qingsi asked, harboring purely mischievous intentions.

Although she spoke the exact same words as her past self, the current her merely wished to see her unruly disciple so mortified he looked like he might cry again.

“Master… I can manage myself…”

Gu Bei really was about to cry out.

At the time, Mu Qingsi, seeing Gu Bei’s strong reluctance, let him have his way.

The current Mu Qingsi, after a moment of hesitation, also chose to let him off the hook.

Placed in his shoes, it would indeed be awkward.

However, she didn’t know how he handled it later.

She seemed to have asked once, and it was something like…

‘Non-toxic disposal?’

Her unruly disciple somehow knew a mysteriously large amount about certain things, which she had grown accustomed to.

The first night passed uneventfully.

Mu Qingsi sat in the hall, flipping through a book by the light of a small oil lamp to pass the time.

Back then, she had been meditating and circulating her qi.

But in a dream, cultivation held no meaning.

Gu Bei’s body had been severely damaged, requiring a period of recovery before he could even consider cultivation.

So, in the beginning, Mu Qingsi would wake him up every morning after preparing breakfast, have him take medicine, then eat breakfast, then practice boxing stances, then take more medicine, then eat lunch, then practice sword forms, then take more medicine, then eat dinner, take a medicinal bath, and finally sleep.

All of this was gleaned from books Mu Qingsi had hastily consulted; her own path to cultivation was entirely unreplicable by others.

Thus, she didn’t know how to teach.

However, the Immortal Alliance did sell relevant books, and she had some spirit stones at hand.

It was only on the second day, when she saw her unruly disciple wobbling after waking up, that she realized her oversight.

She was, in fact, quite responsible; the Sword Fairy, foremost under heaven, had taken a disciple precisely when she was at the peak of her generation’s prodigies, and she truly taught her disciple meticulously.

She didn’t care at all if it delayed her own progress.

“Hmm, that’s enough for today.

Rest a bit and prepare for dinner,” Mu Qingsi said, nodding slightly at the sweat-drenched Gu Bei.

“What would Master like to eat today?” little Gu Bei asked, catching his breath as he put away his stance.

“Just make what you like to eat; your master isn’t picky,” Mu Qingsi gently shook her head.

In truth, if not for her unruly disciple’s strong insistence, she had no particular thoughts about eating.

The desires of the palate were not what she sought.

Seeing her unruly disciple narrow his eyes, smile, and say, ‘Master, please look forward to it,’ before turning to cook, Mu Qingsi’s lips involuntarily curved into a slight smile.

It seemed to be from this moment that she started smiling more, and her thoughts also… became more complex.

Mu Qingsi sighed with a mix of helplessness and indulgence.

She genuinely had no desires of the palate, yet she would anticipate what dishes would be made.

Because—

“Master, look, disciple spent a long time learning this new dish.

Master, try it and see if it’s good?”

“Passable.”

“Master, try this one too?”

“Hmm, not bad.”

Mu Qingsi smiled, stroking the hair of her unruly disciple who was seeking praise.

‘He was so adorable when he was little.’

Ultimately, what gave Mu Qingsi anticipation was not what dishes Gu Bei made, but that Gu Bei would present his achievements and progress to her.

Whether it was a sense of accomplishment or satisfaction, Mu Qingsi found it very gratifying.

She felt taking this disciple hadn’t been in vain.

Although his innate talent and spiritual roots were a bit lacking, that was natural, and it wasn’t for lack of effort on his part; Mu Qingsi had witnessed it all.

For her, if his roots were a bit poor, so be it; at worst, she would go to the Immortal Alliance to find methods to improve spiritual roots.

What was truly rare was his temperament and his attitude towards her.

Even though she had told him he didn’t need to give her any feedback or do anything, this unruly disciple still tried every possible means to make her happy.

His mere intention made her very happy, let alone the fact that he was genuinely good at coaxing people.

However, all these moments of happiness were merely small joys.

Mu Qingsi was waiting for a great joy.

It was also the turning point that led their master-disciple relationship to its most intimate stage.

A thunderstorm.

The sky had been overcast since morning, and the damp air made people on the ground feel heavy-chested.

By evening, torrential rain, accompanied by terrifying thunder, poured down.

“Then, Master, disciple will go to sleep first.”

Mu Qingsi looked at little Gu Bei, whose small face showed clear unease, yet he tried to suppress it, and she nodded slightly.

After Gu Bei closed his door, the only sound in the entire wooden house was Mu Qingsi’s soft turning of pages.

Then a white flash of light illuminated the world, followed immediately by a tremendous roar of thunder, almost without pause.

Mu Qingsi heard a sound from Gu Bei’s room.

She put down her book, rose, walked over, and pushed open the door.

She saw a tiny figure huddled in a corner, clutching his head, his frightened eyes looking at her.

Upon seeing it was her, his mind seemed to steady slightly, and embarrassment and awkwardness instantly flooded his face.

“Are you afraid of thunder?” Mu Qingsi drew closer, knelt down, and gently stroked Gu Bei’s hair.

“Just, a little…”

Mu Qingsi’s eyes quietly gazed at her unruly disciple, who was feigning bravery with a forced smile.

“Master, it’s alright.

I… I’ll be fine after a moment.”

Mu Qingsi knew exactly what this unruly disciple was thinking and what he was worried about.

But now, she should pretend not to know.

Upon hearing his words, she nodded.

“If you’re scared, just call me.”

“Ah, alright.”

Mu Qingsi watched as her unruly disciple lifted his small face, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

‘It must be now,’ she thought.

Then, in the next instant, a flash of lightning illuminated Gu Bei’s upturned face, making it appear deathly pale.

She could see her disciple’s pupils contract.

The ensuing thunder made him tremble all over, a terrified whimper escaping his throat.

His expression, however, barely changed; his smile was merely stiff, and his eyes welled up with moisture.

It was somewhat comical, somewhat disheveled.

And somewhat pitiable.

So Mu Qingsi gently embraced him, stroking his hair and small back comfortingly.

“It’s alright, your master is here.”

These words seemed to calm him slightly; he instinctively wanted to lean into Mu Qingsi’s embrace but pushed her away with his hand.

Mu Qingsi looked at him in surprise.

Although she knew exactly what was about to happen.

She watched as her disciple, eyes red and body trembling, knelt on the ground, fiercely knocking his forehead against the floor.

“This disciple deserves death; there is one thing I have hidden from Master.”

“What is it?” Mu Qingsi asked, biting her lip, her starlike eyes reflecting a complex emotion.

At the time, she didn’t understand what this meant.

“Disciple… is not an ignorant child, and perhaps not even of this world…”

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps when disciple reincarnated, Meng Po’s soup (TL Note: In Chinese mythology, Meng Po serves a soup to souls before reincarnation to erase their memories; ‘mixed with water’ implies the memory-erasing effect was weakened.) was mixed with water.

In short, though disciple’s body is young, the soul within is undoubtedly that of an adult.

I should not have deceived Master with this childish facade!

Master has been so close, and disciple is truly… truly…”

“Actually, if you hadn’t said anything, your master wouldn’t have known.”

“But disciple’s conscience knows.

Master has shown disciple immense kindness, and disciple should not be so despicable…”

“But that was not your intention.”

“Not my intention, but, but disciple has truly suffered, disciple had no intention to deceive, but…”

“So you mean to say that you are actually an adult?”

“Yes.”

“And you want me not to be so close to you?”

“Mm.”

“Alright, then I’ll go out first.”

Mu Qingsi rose, her expression somewhat complicated.

Behind her, her unruly disciple rustled as he climbed back onto the bed.

Just before Mu Qingsi closed the door, thunder boomed once more.

His disgraceful, faint whimpers drifted into her ears from beneath the covers.

He was clearly very scared.

At the time, she didn’t think much of it; she merely sighed and slowly walked to Gu Bei’s bed, gazing at the shameful bundle with his head covered by the quilt, and gently stroked the blanket.

Now, however, her emotions were complex and inexpressible.

Yet, she uttered the same gentle teasing words, “Didn’t you say you were an adult?

Are you afraid of thunder too?”

Gu Bei, under the covers, wanted to argue, but it was truly too embarrassing.

So he simply buried his head, saying nothing.

“Hmm, it’s alright.

Your master is here,” Mu Qingsi mused, recalling what she had said back then—she remembered the books she had bought mentioned such situations, so she repeated verbatim, “Won’t you be scared if your master cuddles you to sleep?”

“No need!” The unruly disciple under the covers reacted fiercely.

But Mu Qingsi, without a word, pulled back the covers; a turtle exposed from its shell is very vulnerable, and the small unruly disciple, flustered, was both ashamed and embarrassed, not daring to meet Mu Qingsi’s gaze.

The moment she embraced the little, brave but shameful thing, he struggled violently, but after the next peal of thunder, his honest body clung tightly to her.

Mu Qingsi chuckled softly.

Her unruly disciple in her arms was mortified, with nowhere to hide.

“There, there, sleep now.

Master is here.”

“Actually, disciple isn’t afraid of thunder; it’s just that when I was a beggar on the streets, bad things always happened whenever it thundered…”

“Mm-hmm, your master knows.

From now on, your master will sleep with you, alright?”

“That won’t be necessary…”

After her unruly disciple mumbled, his breathing gradually steadied.

Mu Qingsi smiled and sighed, reaching out to poke his small cheek, which had finally gained some flesh recently.

‘He was so adorable when he was little.’

Mu Qingsi, watching her unruly disciple’s small, peaceful sleeping face, suddenly pondered.

When was the next time she felt such profound happiness?

Oh.

She remembered.

She closed her eyes and opened them again, and the scene before her shifted.

Her unruly disciple had grown a little older; before, she used to lead him, but now he was leading her.

Leading her through a temple fair.

She actually had no particular thoughts about temple fairs.

It was just that when her unruly disciple went down the mountain to buy supplies, he mentioned there was a recent temple fair, and she suddenly felt like going.

He used to be so small, but now, looking at him, he was almost as tall as her chest.

Mu Qingsi watched her unruly disciple, who was holding her hand and walking through the crowd.

Perhaps it was the bustling fair, perhaps the clamor of voices, or perhaps it was because this unruly disciple had brought her out.

Her immortal heart, pure and untouched by mortal dust like a goddess, became tinged with a hint of worldly vibrancy.

She also became a little more lively.

And the direct result of her becoming more lively was that she would occasionally tell Gu Bei, ‘Master wants that,’ ‘This is so pretty,’ ‘Disciple, would you win that lantern back for Master?’

Gu Bei couldn’t resist.

With just a little bit of playful coaxing from Mu Qingsi, he would lose all sense of direction.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Mu Qingsi could only see and hear Gu Bei, watching him strive with all his might, as if those things were incredibly precious.

But in truth, what Mu Qingsi wanted to see was merely her unruly disciple’s efforts to win things for her.

When Mu Qingsi’s interest waned and she decided to return, the temple fair attendees had also begun to disperse.

On their way back, amidst the fading lamplight, a conversation between a mother and child suddenly reached her ears.

“Mom, the temple fair was so fun.

Can we come every day from now on?”

“Hmm… no, dear.

When Er Niu grows up, he’ll bring the girl he likes to the fair; he can’t come with Mommy every day.”

“The girl I like?”

“Mm~ To get married, you know.”

“Then can I marry you, Mom?

That way, we can come every day!”

“Is that so?

Well, alright~”

Mu Qingsi listened, then found herself unable to move.

Even her unruly disciple, who was holding her hand, stumbled.

Her unruly disciple looked at her quizzically.

She didn’t speak; she merely looked at her unruly disciple, then at the mother and child not far away.

Her cool, clear eyes blinked and blinked.

It was almost as if ‘I want that’ was written on her face.

Her unruly disciple’s eyes widened slightly; he pointed to himself, then to the child who looked to be only four or five years old, his face full of question marks.

Mu Qingsi still didn’t speak, her eyes dropping slightly.

With her appearance and temperament, merely showing a hint of disappointment rendered all rights and wrongs, appropriateness or inappropriateness, irrelevant.

Gu Bei was helpless; with some embarrassment and resignation, he softly whispered into Mu Qingsi’s ear, in a voice only they could hear, “From now on, can I marry Master too?”

Mu Qingsi’s cool face thawed like spring ice, her eyes and smile simultaneously brightened, happiness overflowing, and she gently nodded, saying, “Good.”

Even in a dream replayed, even knowing how events would unfold, Mu Qingsi still felt somewhat dizzy with happiness.

‘He was so adorable when he was little—this unruly disciple clearly said he would marry me!’

‘At worst, I’ll give up this Minor Sword Sect and go home to get married!’

With this thought, clarity dawned, and her chaotic thoughts were thoroughly cut down by the sword in her heart.

The Sword Fairy on the bed awoke from her dream.

In the instant her eyes opened, icy sword light surged wildly through the room, then converged in a blink.

Her sword heart and sword intent had subtly advanced in a mysterious way.

Even her cultivation had progressed further, reaching a new peak.

At this moment, she was but a single step away from the Soul Transformation stage, a truly tangible step that she could take at any moment.