They spend the rest of the daylight hours — just a few hours — investigating the main building and making arrangements for their sleeping quarters, or rather the lack of possible arrangements. This retreat is meant for only one cultivator with provisions made for another who might be close to them, as there is only one bed, one dining room, and one bathroom.
There are still old ruins around the main building that suggests that this manor was once much larger, and the signs of recent renovation — and by recent I mean within the last one hundred years — also suggest that this was, indeed, once the ancestral home of the Wu clan.
However, it is a home no more — now it is the location of a retreat where a cultivator may advance their cultivation in peace and relative seclusion. The addition of the alchemy and refining workshop also provides for their needs, and these workshops do have separate rooms for additional staff, but they haven’t been used recently either.
These arrangements make me begin to question if this trip here is really meant to be for practice and cultivation, or if it is somehow a romantic escapade to improve Lan Xiaohui’s mood. But, this consideration doesn’t appear to occur to either one of them.
The prospect of living together for a few days in such arrangements does not stir my owner’s heart in any other way except excitement; excitement at the prospect of being able to practice in a place with such a rich Qi. And the same appears to be true for Wu Yulan.
They are sword cultivators; I should not be surprised, but I am.
After exploring the main manor, they explore the area outside, beneath the rock formations that change their colors underneath the fading light of twilight. Here, Wu Yulan points out the other locations of interest and describes some of the features of the retreat.
The waters that feed into the waterfalls and lakes are generated deep inside the rocks and contain a powerful and pure sword Qi. In addition to this, during the day the lake also contains a powerful ice Qi, and during the night, a powerful metal Qi. I find it peculiar that during the day — when it is warmer — the lake contains ice Qi, but that suggests that the environment is part of a greater system of opposites that may be responsible for the Qi in the area.
Wu Yulan explains that the trees, grass, and flowers are all of a spiritual nature. The trees in particular can provide fruits — once every ten years — that can be very beneficial for cultivators. There are also spirit beasts present, but they are docile and, for the most part, skittish.
In the sixty-step radius of my perception — now that Lan Xiaohui is not sharing her sight with me anymore — I do not notice any of these beasts, but I do notice a few tracks left in the ground as the duo explores the surroundings.
Most of my attention is still affixed to the rocks and whatever clue I may obtain from the environment about the nature of this place. More and more it appears to be part of a greater system, but it is unlike anything I have seen before.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Well, almost unlike anything I have seen before.
Within my own internal world is a system that is mysterious to me — the [God-Slaying System]. It is a trait, instead of a talent or a formation, which raises questions. The fact that it closely resembles the same kind of system we discovered at the center of the forest did not escape my notice either.
Instead of the willow trees, dozens of swords pierce and suppress the snake. Instead of an artificial sun, my alchemy flame burns above the sea of my consciousness. As for the tree that was at the center of this system; a more one-to-one copy could not be achieved. It is the same tree.
However, this place and the center of the forest are vastly different. The forest was active and had a formation that was exerting most of its influence; this place appears inert and powerless. Other than the strange rock and the rich Qi, there are no signs that this location is different from any other.
The sky had turned dark by the time they finish their exploration and the two make their way back to the central island which has been cleared of all obstacles. No bridges lead to this island and they have to leap across to get to it.
They have both been looking forward to this part of the tour because they both understand what it signifies. This island is elegant in its simplicity for it has only this one function: to practice the martial arts and unlock the secrets of the universe.
Sword cultivators understand each other as if they share a form of limited telepathy; this is evident in the fact that their hearts become more and more heated with excitement as their journey takes them to this final place.
It is for the same reason.
Both Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui have never cared for practicing their martial arts before — for both of them, their background demanded this of them for reasons that are entirely unrelated to seeking the Dao.
This time, it is no different — their excitement is not about seeking the Dao or sharpening their swords.
The sword is special — as are all other inferior martial art types — because it can show one where they belong in the world. The sword does not care for background, influence, or wealth — it judges kings and beggars alike and makes no exceptions for either.
Either one is strong, or they are weak.
It is with this in mind that the two desire to measure each other. Here, they are just two cultivators — each reborn in their own way — who are about to set on a new journey together.
No words need to be spoken as they each head toward their own side of the island and face each other, their expressions warm and slightly flustered.
The result each one desires is also the same; they do not desire for one to be above the other.
They hope to be equals.
As the moon crests over the spires and rocks, the silver light begins to peel the shadows from the central island, and a gust of wind knocks loose the petals of flowering treetops nearby, causing them to fall towards the lake.
Wu Yulan slowly draws her white and cyan sword from her ring and at the same time, the moonlight reaches her, advancing at the same rate that her sword appears from its dimensional armory.
When the moonlight reaches my owner, she does the same, slowly drawing me from my sheath, my metal catching the light and causing my surface to glimmer.
The rocks beyond also catch the moonlight, and this time they glow with a faint blue light, making the surface appear almost like dark glass with a hint of cyan brilliance within.
They understand each other without speaking — they share this harmony not just with themselves, but also the world around them. So they wait for the right moment, neither making the first move.
Then, another gust of wind scatters the blossoms between them, and they both recognize it as the symbol to begin.