Once Elder Qin departs and the boulder rolls back into place, casting the cavernous chamber into nearly complete darkness once more, Lan Xiaohui sighs.
She goes through the motions of straightening out her dress, paying particular attention to the numerous tears, burns, and other battle-related damages, forcefully reweaving the fabric with her sword qi and energy. Like the flower in her hair, most of her dress is also fabricated from that same material — her own sword qi and vitality.
Originally, her fashion was a somewhat rare qi-woven dress that possessed the ability to repair itself and, in a limited fashion, transform itself to suit the owner’s vision. Now, after Lan Xiaohui’s Physique was affected by my blood, the dress also became more.
“Those first few days in the forest, when I thought my life had come to an end, it dawned on me,” Lan Xiaohui says, watching the neon-blue glow of qi-threads weave into the fabric to restore it. “What became of my so-called ‘good fortune’.”
There is a brief pause as she assesses the quality of her repairs.
“I didn’t see it at first; when my family sold me to the Yu clan, I was happy that I could marry into a powerful family and—“ she chuckles, “— definitely fall in love and be happy. I did not think I was naive.”
She moves on to her sleeve, mending a few barely noticeable blemishes like I'd expect from someone obsessed with even the smallest details.
“I did not mind that I was hated by those jealous of my good fortune,” she says, mocking the two words. “I just wanted to do my filial duty and be happy.”
Here, she looks up toward the boulder blocking the exit. “Now, when I look back at it, I don’t know how to describe the hole it left in my heart.”
A tear cracks on the stone below the platform.
“Good fortune…?”
Her hands ball into fists and she shuts her eyes tightly. “What happiness? What family? What friends? What filial duty? All my dreams turned into nightmares.”
After a long moment of silence, she turns her attention to the other sleeve of her dress. Calmer now, she speaks again, “Now, when I have no life or purpose beyond killing Yu Shun, the Heavens grace me with a deluge of flowers; myriad opportunities, masters to teach me in the ways of Qi, divine artifacts, a pure spiritual root, true companions—“ she snorts, “— wealth beyond my wildest dreams. Now, instead of envy and scorn, people want to come to me and be by my side. Isn’t it funny?”
I assume the question is rhetorical, so I withhold my answer.
“Now that I want for nothing, all these things fall into my lap.”
Done with her dress, she brings her right index finger before her, pointing upward, and a marble-sized sphere of sword energy appears above it, crackling with electricity.
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“All that I want and need, in this life, I already have.”
Even though she is staring at the mote of energy, I know that she is referring to me.
Although I find this mindset very advantageous for my purposes, I also find it disadvantageous. At this rate, once she accomplishes her goal, whether or not her sword will remain sharp is questionable.
“There is a life beyond Yu Shun,” I tell her. “All the things you want and desire, I can easily provide. Once you bury Lan Xiaohui, Zhu Xuelian can live the life she wanted.”
Here, Lan Xiaohui’s eyes close — likely to fight back the tears — and, after a few moments, she nods. “Okay,” she whispers, tone warped and twisted.
It is only when I hear that tone and process the disappointment of convincing her so easily that I realize the reason behind this sudden outburst of emotion.
“I am never going to leave you,” I tell her. "This dream won't become a nightmare. It's not a dream at all."
Immediately, her eyes snap open, full of tears.
I don’t understand this creature’s attachment to me. It is not merely a deep connection, it is more; even beyond reasonable or unreasonable emotions. I thought that it was because I was the only path toward accomplishing her goals — and perhaps it started that way — but now has become something different.
The reason she is not tempted by these opportunities or deeply grateful for the many gifts of her destiny is because in her vision of the future, there is nothing; no wishes, no desires, no anticipation of events or probabilities; it is empty. Yet, at the same time, her only path toward that future is through me.
To fulfill my wishes and desires; to grace my existence with this heavenly deluge of flowers.
I am her life now.
What a foolish creature.
My sentient core, as it usually does, erupts with glee and satisfaction — not at the prospect of Lan Xiaohui’s attachment to me, but the fact that I was wrong in my initial estimate.
This mindset is very advantageous to me.
Her sword will not become dull.
I manifest a physical force with my consciousness and mimic the action of patting Lan Xiaohui’s head, to which she reacts by closing her eyes and smiling.
“You are the master of my Inner World now,” I explain. “It is impossible for us to remain apart.”
At this, Lan Xiaohui’s cheeks puff up and she frowns. “Is that all?” she asks, tone low and evasive. I think this is what legal guardians call a spoiled child.
“I also need you,” I transmit telepathically, but before I can explain why — the fact that my Inner World is now materialized and requires her presence, not to mention the fact that she has opposable thumbs — Lan Xiaohui hums happily.
She returns her focus to the dress and, this time, not only does she fix the battle damage, but she also begins adding new features; moons and flowers embroidered into the silky fabric.
“A part of me is grateful for what happened,” she says after calming down, her tone more focused and high-spirited than before. “Now I can appreciate the value of the things I have, but also, more importantly, know what I truly want. For that reason alone, I will grant Yu Shun a swift, painless death.”
Spoken like a true sword cultivator. The extent of her mercy is frightening by the standards of her kin, but more than acceptable by mine. I’d also prefer that she quickly dispatch the Black Tiger so that we can seek the apex together.
“There are still a few months until the Conference,” I tell her. “Until then, meditate here and stabilize your Dao Heart.”
She nods to my words and, without any objections, assumes a meditative pose. “When your Inner World is ready, will you let me practice the Fractured Sword martial art?” she asks.
“You are the Realm Master now,” I remind her. “You can do as you please. But it will take some time before the Formations can be powered up.”
“In that case,” she says, smiling elusively. “I will meditate inside your Inner World!”
Just like that, my vessel pulses with a golden glow, for a brief moment, and Lan Xiaohui’s physical form transforms into a wisp of black smoke, and pours into my vessel.
I still don’t understand how someone this impulsive can resist such tremendous temptations that destiny seems to throw at her.