They spend several hours enjoying the morning sun in the courtyard of the main building, sitting side by side on a bench.

Wu Yulan had prepared tea and poured it into cups of black glass that she had made herself, moments before while demonstrating her extreme control of sword Qi on fragments of the black rock that became dislodged after their spar.

Here, the black glass further shows its strange properties by glimmering in the light and changing colors, but mostly staying on the darker side. My [Critical Analysis] ability is not able to deduce anything about this rock, even though it is such a small fragment — though, I don’t particularly believe its size matters for my talent.

Upgrading my talents, for obvious reasons, hovers near the top of the list of my priorities, but my reason for not spending blood points yet remains the same. With new knowledge about my Inner World and the method of its operation, it is even more important for me to stockpile my resources so that I can capitalize on any opportunities that arise.

I am close to breaking into the Core Formation realm, and my owner is even closer. Without any information on what might become available to me once I improve my realm — or my body cultivation — it is too risky to spend my resources. There is a saying among cultivators, according to some of the liberated memories of those I devoured: twice the result, half the effort.

Lan Xiaohui demonstrates another skill to Wu Yulan while they rest and drink tea — her ability to play the zither.

I am certain that Lan Xiaohui is a skilled musician, but I have no ability to appreciate air vibrating in a sequence of frequencies that my owner chooses. Objectively I can say that Lan Xiaohui plays in a key and that her control over the strings has almost machine-like precision; in other words, she does not make mistakes.

But to me, it is just sound — air vibrating.

Wu Yulan seems to enjoy it, however. She keeps her eyes closed as Lan Xiaohui plays the zither and for a long time, she does not make any motions whatsoever. I can barely even detect Wu Yulan’s breathing.

There is, however, one thing that I can appreciate about Lan Xiaohui’s music that has very little to do with the actual sound. Even her music expresses, very faintly, her deep understanding of the Sword. If I too were to close my eyes — if I had them — I would certainly be able to see a glimpse of the Supreme Sword.

And red flowers blooming on the moon.

For some reason, Lan Xiaohui is becoming closer and closer to these concepts; her pristine sword is becoming tainted by these additional things and, for reasons beyond my understanding, becoming purer.

The Grand Dao from which all things stem is a mysterious thing and though I am an enlightened being, I can not claim to know how to reach it or what it is — no one can. If it were a straightforward road, everyone would be able to ascend.

What do I care? Whether Lan Xiaohui sees herself as a sword that makes the flowers bloom red, or a flower that is sword-like, in both cases, only blood can feed her growth. And that is very convenient for me. I suppose it is very convenient for us both.

By the time I become aware that the threads of their consciousness are merging together and flowing as one, I realize that cultivators do not learn to play the zither merely to entertain. Like this, Lan Xiaohui can take Wu Yulan on a journey of discovery through whatever imagery she desires to show the other girl and can form a connection with her that is almost as deep as the one that I and Lan Xiaohui form when we cultivate together.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

This is similar to dual cultivation, but not exactly the same.

As Lan Xiaohui finishes playing her music, Wu Yulan’s eyes remain closed. “That was beautiful,” she says.

Lan Xiaohui smiles and closes her eyes as well. Then she pulls Wu Yulan’s consciousness into my Inner World.

This has likely been Lan Xiaohui’s intent from the beginning. It is easier to show the way than to give directions. In fact, would Wu Yulan even be able to access my internal system on her own, or is that a privilege only Lan Xiaohui has? I’d like to think it is the latter, but I am not certain.

They do not appear in the Second Layer, but instead in a vast void that looks slightly different from the first time Lan Xiaohui and I observed it.

The void of the First Layer is changed in the same way that the horizon of the next layer is affected. There is an ephemeral sun overhead, more black than anything else — but a radiant black — and this corresponds to the alchemical fire that burns in my inner vessel. A glimpse of a tree can be seen in the distance, alongside several massive swords.

The snake is out of sight in the deep black beneath their feet, and the only thing that separates them from the void below is the silvery glass-like shimmer of the ground beneath them, which is reflective just enough to recognize it as a floor in order to convince their mind that they are not, in fact, falling.

The fact that they appear in the First Layer is likely because Wu Yulan is technically a new user and this layer likely performs the function of making sure that such new users can effectively perform the functions expected of them in the next layer.

However, this time, no voice sounds to announce the challenge, possibly due to the confusion about the presence of a new user alongside an existing one. Or perhaps because there are two at the same time. Or a number of other, less likely, possible reasons.

Wu Yulan scans her environment with wide-eyed amazement, but there is also slight disappointment. I understand why, and I forgive her shallow-mindedness. When Lan Xiaohui said Inner World, the last thing Wu Yulan expected was an empty world.

I am certain she will reconsider her opinion of my excellence when the Wukong simulation turns her bones into soup.

“This is…” Wu Yulan begins but doesn’t finish her sentence. She turns about as if to confirm that the world does seem to stretch infinitely in all directions. Other than the tree, black sun, and outline of swords, there is nothing else here.

“This is just the First Layer,” Lan Xiaohui says, emphasizing the world just, as if also protective of me and what Wu Yulan might think of the whole based on just this one example.

“The First Layer?” Wu Yulan repeats, distracted.

“I think it is an array formation called [Killing Field],” Lan Xiaohui says and then trails off. “We can fight demonic beasts here.”

Now, Wu Yulan’s eyes widen. Now she understands that form does not represent function. Though, I am not certain what it is about a formation that can simulate battle that is so impressive.

“You can’t die in here, but at the same time, you cannot improve your Physique or cultivate Qi — I think,” Lan Xiaohui explains. “But you can improve your skills.”

I feel an eagerness rise in Wu Yulan’s heart as she hears these words, and she is already drawing her sword from her dimensional storage.

At that time, perhaps the Inner World decides to let Lan Xiaohui deal with this discrepancy in its expectations, and a rock stele rises from the glassy floor below.

Lan Xiaohui, while smiling, walks over to the rock stele and places her hand on it.

[ First Layer: Basic Swordsmanship Test. ]

“We will begin with the easiest setting first; this should be no problem,” Lan Xiaohui says.

Wu Yulan nods, likely feeling slightly relieved that they will start off simple. How difficult can a basic swordsmanship test be?

[ Inner World: Time dilation setting changed. Inner World to Real Time ratio: 8 to 1. ]

A sub-routine informs me, at once, that the expected cost of operating my Inner World at this time dilation for an entire week in real-time will amount to 2,500,000 Inner World Energy. If I had a heart, it would surely break at this extravagant waste of resources!