The Path Toward Heaven

When Jing Jiu returned to the front chamber, Zhao Layue had already woken up.

Looking around cautiously, with her small sword flying around her quietly, Zhao Layue was ready to attack at any moment.

This place was probably what she thought it was, but she wasn’t quite sure, so she became nervous.

Seeing Jing Jiu walk in, she relaxed somewhat. “What is going on?” she asked.

“As you have seen, we are already atop the peak,” said Jing Jiu.

“This is the Senior Grandmaster’s manor cave?” asked Zhao Layue, her voice trembling slightly.

“It should be,” said Jing Jiu.

She retrieved her green sword and stared at Jing Jiu. “How did you do it?” she asked after a long period of silence.

She figured Jing Jiu had some way of reaching the top, but the fact that he had actually done it, bringing her to the top of the peak with him, had left her quite surprised.

“When you were asleep, a white-bearded Immortal suddenly appeared, brought us here, and then disappeared,” said Jing Jiu after a moment of thought.

Zhao Layue looked at him and said nothing.

“Not a good story?” asked Jing Jiu.

“Not good,” said Zhao Layue.

“Is there a possibility that you believed me a little?” asked Jing Jiu.

“I’m not Liu Shisui,” Zhao Layue said seriously, looking at him.

Jing Jiu sighed. “It looks like I need to think of another story.”

“Who are you actually?” asked Zhao Layue.

“I’m looking for the answer myself,” said Jing Jiu.
…
…
There was a stone chair in the manor cave, left by Immortal Jing Yang, with a cushion atop the chair embroidered with simple designs of flowers and birds. The cushion had seen many years of use, and its golden thread and designs were almost invisible, but it wasn’t damaged, and was very soft, like a cloud.

Jing Jiu walked over and sat on it, watching Zhao Layue search throughout the manor cave.

“Are you looking for that sword?”

Zhao Layue stopped to look at him. “Well, don’t you want to find the sword?” she asked with a confused expression.

Before Jing Jiu could tell her something, she had gone somewhere else.

Looking all over the manor cave, Zhao Layue still couldn’t find the sword. She used her Awareness of Sword to sense it, but there was still no response.

She walked to the cliff edge and looked at the surroundings. “Is the sword inside the peak somewhere?” she thought. “But Shenmo Peak is so big, how could I find it?”

The morning sun peeked through the mountains, emitting a few rays which shone onto the white clouds. Yet it was still dark at the bottom of the peak.

Her face was a bit ashen.

“What happened?” asked Jing Jiu, walking to her side.

“I haven’t found the sword,” said Zhao Layue with her head lowered, like a child who had done something wrong.

“Even if we couldn’t inherit the sword, we can still go to Liangwang Peak,” said Jing Jiu.
“It has nothing to do with inheriting the sword.”

If Senior Grandmaster Jing Yang failed to ascend, thought Zhao Layue, then that sword would be still in Shenmo Peak, meaning that he was probably recuperating somewhere around here.

If that sword wasn’t here, then he wasn’t here either.

She figured Jing Jiu would have some connection to Senior Grandmaster Jing Yang, but she didn’t know how to ask him.

Sitting by the cliff edge, holding her knees, she looked crestfallen.

This was the first time that Jing Jiu had seen her in such a frail and frustrating mood.

When they met for the first time atop Sword Peak, he found that this young girl hid a hint of exasperation deep in her eyes.

Tonight he had answers to many puzzles.

“Senior Grandmaster is dead,” thought Zhao Layue, looking at the silent peaks and the empty manor cave.

“He really is dead,” she murmured.

Was there any meaning at all to what she had done these past four years?

All the hidden pressure, the burden, the tiredness and the frustration, the things that she couldn’t tell a single soul: it all poured out at once.

Clink!!!

The green sword broke in half, falling down on the ground, losing all its spiritual energy.

Awk! Zhao Layue spat a mouthful of fresh blood, passing out.

Seeing the scene, Jing Jiu was quite moved.

He hadn’t ever felt this way before. Even if he had had such feelings when he was a young boy, he had forgotten all about it.

Since he had returned to Green Mountain, he had felt like this a few times. Once, when Liu Shisui had drunk that cup of tea mixed with the tablet. And now.

“He is not dead. He is merely almost dead,” said Jing Jiu after a moment of silence.

Having spoken these words, he raised his hand.

Smack!!!

His palm hit Zhao Layue on her head.

A gentle wind blew, and his white clothing fluttered. An indescribable atmosphere descended on the peak.

The continuous Sword Source flowed downward from the top of her head, protecting her severely injured Sword Heart, slowly repairing it.

After a long while, Jing Jiu pulled his right hand back after making sure she was out of danger.

Jing Jiu went to the manor cave and came back with a towel dampened with spring water. He held her to his chest and wiped her face.

He wiped it very carefully, clearing the the blood stains and dust from her face.

Seeing her matted short hair, he thought for a moment, went back to the manor cave, and found a wooden comb. He started combing her hair.

The wooden comb combined with the cold air was the perfect tool for combing hair.

Her chaotic short hair became smooth soon after, the dust disappearing as well.

Jing Jiu talked to himself while combing her hair. “Your family name is Zhao.”

“But it was a light snowfall that day, not a snowstorm.”

“And they called you Layue because you were born in the month of Layue? That’s not a very good name.”
…
…
Zhao Layue woke up again and found herself in the Senior Grandmaster Jing Yang’s manor cave, on a warm jade bed instead of cold floor.

The difference in treatment didn’t bring her comfort. She was bewildered, unsure whether she had said something that she shouldn’t have when she passed out.

As she looked at herself in the bronze mirror. Zhao Layue felt something was different. Her face was so clean, and also…

She forgot about her previous worries and doubts over Jing Jiu’s identity and rushed outside the cave. “What have you done to me?” she yelled.

“I haven’t done anything,” said Jing Jiu.

“Haven’t done anything? Then how will you explain this?” asked Zhao Layue, pointing to her hair.

Her short hair had been combed into a bun, sticking upward out of the top of her head.
“What’s wrong?” asked Jing Jiu.

“How could you make a bun for my hair? I’m not a little girl!”

“Your hair is so short, so I couldn’t make braids out of it, but only a bun,” said Jing Jiu seriously, looking at her. “Also, I think it’s cute.”
…