Lixue smiles as sets her eyes onto the battlefield before her. The two of them replay the match. Lixue’s father chuckles as the board progresses in the exact same manner as the original match. He pauses, raising his gaze to observe Lixue’s expression intently, before repeating his mistake, hoping that Lixue would spot it this time around.
“I was too flustered.” She smiles as she places her fingers on a different piece than the original playthrough. “I was too focused on defense to see the opening for offense.”
She slides her Chariot across the opening in the battlefield, forcing her father to halt his offensive and switch to defense. As her father is forced to play reactively, Lixue finds an opening with the help of her Chariot to push her Soldier to the end of the board.
“Bīng pào.” She smiles, reaching for the captured Cannon on her father’s side of the table.
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Dan smirks as he watches Instructor Hue tremble with rage. He takes a deep breath as the instructor’s body disappears in a blur. The crashing raindrops slow to a standstill. Dan watches as the black blur rushes at him. He observes the man’s crazed expression as it smashes through the rain, causing rain droplets to explode on impact. His hands shift towards the center of his body, stacking one palm onto the other as Instructor Hue appears before him.
As the instructor’s fist rips toward him, Dan straightens his bent knees and kicks off into the air. His hands remain in place, waiting to receive the instructor’s explosive fist. As the fist lands, Dan relaxes his arms, absorbing the impact by letting the fist push his stacked palms toward his chest. Just as the fist is about to break through and smash his chest, Dan flexes his arms and straightens his elbows. The force of the punch sends him tumbling through the torrential downpour. Despite his attempt to absorb the impact and take advantage of the momentum, Dan winces in pain from what feels like three or four fractured ribs and a dislocated shoulder.
“DAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNN!!!” Xi’s cries as she watches fly past her, disappearing into the night, followed by an echoing crash.
“Now then, precious little tokens. You’ve caused me a lot of trouble for one night. Kneel so we can end this cleanly. Else, this instructor doesn’t mind cutting off a few limbs.”
Xi bites the corner of her lip, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe as Instructor Hue’s oppressive aura descends onto the battlefield. The other girls also tremble, feeling their knees start to buckle under the weight of this oppressive force. Maoyi, having suffered a debilitating blow to her abdomen, collapses as she can no longer endure the pain combined with the pressure.
Xi attempts to catch her, but as she reaches out, her knees also start to buckle. Refusing to go down, Xi stabs her sword into the dirt, using the handle to push herself up and regain her footing.
“Tenacious brats.” Instructor Hue sneers at the pathetic sight of the children still trying to resist. “Draw your weapons. Subdue them. If necessary, sever an arm or two.”
The trio encircles Maoyi, digging their feet into the muddy terrain, with an unwavering determination gleaming in their eyes.
Anning, already well beyond her pain threshold, clenches the ribbons wrapped around her hands and pulls them taut, attempting to isolate the excruciating agony. With much struggle, she sets herself between Maoyi and the encroaching assault. Anning raises her battered, crimson-stained, palms before her as her quivering knees strain under the pressure. Despite the pain and the pressure, she tries her best to maintain a resolute stance.
A teardrop escapes her eyes as she gazes at the blood-soaked ribbons drooping against her arm, even within the fierce wind.
Don’t worry, Master. I’ll die before I break.
Despite having lost all feeling in her fingers, she forces them to clench, forming a fist as she kicks off into the sky. Her eyes remain locked on the four masked men charging in the front. Channeling whatever little aura she has left into her fists, she descends like a thunderclap, creating an explosion of mud and water upon impact.
Anning's cry echoes through the chaos as the excruciating pain surges back through her arms. Before she can regain her bearings from the powerful landing, a sword thrusts through the fragile barrier of mud, targeting her shoulder.
Just before the blade makes contact, its trajectory suddenly shifts as a blurry object crashes against the crossguard. Missing its mark, the sharp edge tears through her robe, leaving behind a gash on her shoulders as it pierces through the air. Before she can catch her breath, a palm pushes through the mud, forcefully striking her chest and sending her flying backward.
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Upon pushing herself up with the blade, Xi grabs the top of her sleeve, adorned with markings of the Sword of Song, and tears it free from her arms. Looping the sleeve around the gash on her thigh, Xi pulls with each end with all her might before securing it tightly with a knot. She reaches back for the blade and lifts it from the soaked soil, raising it up to her eyes, unblinking despite the rain crashing against her lashes.
She glances at her dim reflection in the flat side of the blade, looking into the eyes gazing back at her.
We’ll meet again in the next life.
As the blurry images of her sister and father looking back at her fades, Xi breaks away from the reflection and locks onto the four masked men within view.
She launches herself towards the remaining four masked assailants, her blade poised for a swift strike as she spins through the air. As she soars through the air, her attack is abruptly interrupted as the flat side of a blade descends from above. As the blade crashes against her own, causing Xi to spit out a mouthful of blood as a deafening clang reverberates through the air. The violent vibration courses through her entire body, making her bones feel brittle. Before she can regain her balance, the masked man she was initially charging raises his blade, preparing to strike down towards her sword arm.
Just as the blade descends, it unexpectedly pauses for a split moment in mid-air. Xi seizes the opportunity to retract her sword arm before using it to push herself off the ground. As she regains her footing, Xi transfers the momentum from her spin into her blade, stabbing towards her original target. Despite narrowly missing his heart, her blade still draws blood as it rips past the masked man’s shoulder.
Maoyi, who had been kneeling in the muck, winds her arm back to launch a projectile to assist her juniors. Choking down the pain, she raises another one before whipping it forth. The pain continues to grow, blood seeping through the side of her robe and sash, each time she whips her arm out. She raises her arm once more, trying to cover for Anning, but she collapses onto her side, clutching her midsection as the pressure successfully breaks her resolve. As the stone bombardment comes to an end, the masked assailants continue their onslaught .
Wei, still surging with what could be his last rush of adrenaline, steps in front of Maoyi, putting himself between the injured girl and Instructor Hue. He lowers his stance, adjusting his grip on Chunhua's blade. With the sword's tip brushing against the ground behind him, Wei leans forward. Despite the overwhelming sense of despair pressing down on him, Wei remains steadfast, refusing to kneel.
Ancestor Tongba, please guide this blade so that your descendant can die with pride.
Having made peace with death before submission, he steadies himself for his final stand.
Ignoring Anning and Xi as they leap into the fray, Wei bides his time, patiently waiting for Instructor Hue's inevitable arrival. His adrenaline begins to wane just as Instructor Hue enters his striking range. As Wei clenches his jaw, ready to strike, a bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, briefly lighting up the battlefield.
Wei leans forwards into a fall as the image of Instructor Hue’s illuminated smirk fuels him with rage. Just before hitting the ground, he forcefully stomps his foot to stop his descent, transferring the momentum from the fall into his arms. With a swift, fluid motion, he drags the blade's tip through the mud and swings it upwards.
As the blade rips through the dirt, Wei suddenly feels a gust rushing by, almost as if it was trying to guide him. With the wind behind his blade, Wei explodes with all his might, lifting the tip off the ground as his blade ascends towards the Heavens.
The violent collision of two blades is lost amidst the deafening clap of thunder. As the thunderous echo rings across the valley, a half-severed sword shaft spirals through the air. And as the echo fades, the half-severed sword’s tip pierces deep in the soft ground behind Wei.
A thin cut, only visible from the crimson trickling down, runs from Instructor Hue’s cheek, disappearing at his eye, and continuing through his brow and forehead. He jumps back to create distance as he looks down at the sword in his hand.
“GIEHAHAHAHAHA!” He laughs maniacally at the sight of the blade, cleanly cut from edge to edge near the midpoint. His other hand rubs along the cut on his face, swiping the blood onto his fingers. “A fine sword you got there, Zhou brat! I’ll take it along with that arm!”
He tosses his broken sword aside, flattening his palm and infusing it with aura. He kicks forth, rushing towards the exhausted Wei with the tips of his fingers straightened like a blade.
Though trembling, the students stand firmly on their feet as they stare death in the face. Even Maoyi, with one hand clutching her sides, manages to stand, using her other hand to prop up the sword as support.
All four of them send whatever strength they have left into their feet, ready to push themselves into a fatal strike, preferring to die than to be used as hostages against their families and sects. As the attacks arrive, the students bend their knees, ready to greet death.
As death approaches, an eerie stillness descends upon the battlefield. Raindrops, previously crashing down at them, suddenly curve as they’re sent flying off to the side. Without the crashing raindrops, silence suddenly fills the air. The tranquility disappears as fast as it came, replaced by a violent gale of wind, ripping up the mud from the ground beneath them as it swirls outwards. Amidst the violent cyclone, Wei smells something sweet. As he stares down death as it approaches, Wei smiles.
Shifting the last of his strength from his feet–the strength he had reserved to push himself into a fatal strike–to his arm, Wei whips the blade up. As the blade reaches towards the sky, his adrenaline wears off, causing him to stumble before falling backwards.
Wei’s consciousness drifts as his back crashes into the mud. In his final moment before passing out, he hears his senior’s voice ring in his ears, sending him off into a well deserved sleep.
“Sixth Stance of Spring: Fēng Xuán Huā Suí.” (Translation: Wind Spins, Flowers Follow)