Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: The Child of Mount Hua Awakens
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A long time had passed since we left Chang'an through the city gates.
The bustling crowds had receded like the tide, and before long, the surroundings were filled only with sparse trees and the chirping of grasshoppers.
An empty road, still air.
That silence was slowly tightening around my throat.
I hadn't noticed it amid the noisy chatter of the people.
But as silence descended,
the distance between Senior Disciple and me felt like a thousand—no, ten thousand—miles.
Senior Disciple walked ahead in silence, lips firmly pressed together, eyes fixed straight forward.
Last night, her desperate gaze as she begged me to keep it a secret made my chest ache.
'Is she... angry?'
I stole a glance, turning my head to peek at her profile.
But her smooth forehead, straight nose, and expressionless lips revealed no emotion.
Normally, she would have smiled warmly at me.
That endlessly kind and gentle smile now seemed fragile, like a mask on the verge of cracking.
The awkward silence clung heavily to every step.
I swallowed dryly and mustered the courage to speak.
"Um... Senior Disciple. How far is it to Wudang?"
"We can't make it in one day. There's an inn on the way where we can stay the night."
A dry response.
Her gaze remained fixed ahead.
I hesitated before opening my mouth again.
"Then... will you get just one room again today?"
"......"
For a moment, Senior Disciple's steps faltered slightly.
As the wordless silence stretched on, my anxiety swelled like a snowball.
I waved my hands hurriedly and added,
"I made that mistake yesterday too... I'm fine with separate rooms."
"No."
Senior Disciple cut me off softly.
Still not looking at me, she spoke in a low, sunken voice.
"No need to waste money. The sect supported us with so much effort... we should save what we can."
"But... what if something like yesterday happens again..."
At that moment, Senior Disciple stopped and whipped her head around.
Her trembling eyes locked onto mine.
"Yi Yi. It's fine. Nothing like yesterday will happen again. And it wasn't your fault. Really... it was all mine."
The end of her voice quivered faintly.
Her apology seemed directed at me, yet also like a self-mocking murmur to the empty air.
I floundered in panic, but Senior Disciple bowed her head as if to hide her flushed ears and whispered,
"I'm embarrassed... can we drop last night's talk? We agreed to keep it secret. Someone might hear."
"...Yes. Got it."
I mumbled my reply and shut my mouth.
As conversation ceased, suffocating silence wedged between us once more.
She'd barely said less, yet the air felt oppressively heavy.
My gaze kept drifting to Senior Disciple's back—to the swaying tips of her black hair—then hastily dropping to my feet.
But something was off.
Normally, she flitted along mountain paths like a butterfly, yet today she seemed perilously unsteady.
Her foot catching on a small stone, stumbling on flat dirt—it was unfamiliar.
As if her mind was elsewhere, only her shell walking.
"What's wrong with me...? The path's rough. Yi Yi, follow carefully."
Senior Disciple feigned nonchalance, wiping sweat from her brow.
But her eyes avoided me, staring at innocent branches.
"Moss here... it's slippery."
She wobbled again.
I instinctively reached out, then hesitated.
Last night flashed in my mind, making me wary of touching her.
Senior Disciple noticed my hesitation, gave an awkward smile, and steadied herself.
"Tree roots sticking out..."
She kept muttering excuses like self-talk, embarrassed.
But her words scattered into the air, insufficient to bridge our awkwardness.
Her ears remained flushed red.
Clearly, she was as aware of last night as I was.
And then, descending a steep slope—it happened.
She slipped—
Her foot hit wet leaves and skidded badly.
Her body lurched into the air, balance lost.
No time for hesitation.
"Sis, you okay?... Whoa?"
Up close, Senior Disciple's eyes shook wide.
Her faint sweat mingled with her floral scent rushed over me.
Senior Disciple stared up at me blankly in my arms, then blushed and hurriedly straightened.
"Thanks, I nearly fell... You've grown so reliable, Yi Yi..."
That was when it happened.
Clap, clap, clap—
A frivolous applause cut through the silent mountain path from behind.
"Hahaha! So lovey-dovey, beans spilling everywhere. What? Thought you were newlyweds, but what's that on your chest?"
With a chilling laugh, rough-looking men emerged from the brush one by one.
Slit eyes, yellowed teeth bared in cackles—they were unmistakable bandits.
The apparent leader tilted his head sneeringly.
"No way, bro! Our lofty Mount Hua Sect Taoists on a lovers' elopement? That's the plum blossom crest, right? Out to savor the mortal world's delights, eh?"
"Sure looks like it. Taoism forbids lust, yet rolling in the woods midday... Must've been wild at night, huh?"
"Taoist, that fancy sword good for night work too? Or is the sis next to you skilled? Heh."
Their words poured out, foul and vulgar.
I didn't grasp 'mortal delights' or 'night work' exactly, but their sticky, leering gazes crawled over me like bugs—disgusting.
We'd just been supporting each other, yet they painted it like we'd been caught in some vile act. Overwhelmed, I shrank back.
Worst was their mockery aimed at Senior Disciple.
Panicked, I froze.
Then, Senior Disciple in my arms changed in an instant.
The shy embarrassment gone, replaced by icy frost over her pale face.
Her cold eyes pierced the bandits.
No longer my gentle sister—this was a martial artist of the jianghu.
Shing—
Her white hand slowly rose to her sword hilt.
"Bandits?"
Her low, chilling voice froze the mountain air solid.
The bandits' vile laughs echoed through the woods.
"Know we're bandits? Then shouldn't you apologize, drop your coin pouch, and run?"
The leader cackled, pointing his blade at us.
"Even Mount Hua disciples can't handle thirty. And your 'sis' is trembling in fear..."
His gaze stabbed at me.
That mocking look snapped me awake.
Me, scared? Me, who should protect Senior Disciple?
Shame and defiance surged, my fingers trembling.
Ching—
I gripped my sword hilt and pressed to Senior Disciple's side.
Metal scraped sharply from the sheath.
But Senior Disciple already stared only at them.
Her eyes weren't my kind sister's.
Only razor-sharp killing intent swirled there.
"One more word, and I'll cut out your tongues."
Her voice was utterly calm.
Like stating an inevitable fact—the dryness irked them.
"Think you can? Then do it. One. Word."
A punk beside the leader stuck out his tongue mockingly.
That instant.
Thud—!
Senior Disciple kicked off the ground.
She charged without hesitation up the slope where the bandits held formation.
"Foolish? Attacking uphill is tough even with skill gap. Charging alone?"
They didn't panic, just scoffed leisurely.
Terrain favored them; her charge seemed reckless bravado.
"When's she coming up? Waiting till sunset—"
Before his taunt finished.
Whoosh—!
Senior Disciple's speed exploded mid-stride.
Like an arrow loosed, no—a streak of light tearing space.
Plum scent wafted, and in a blink, she was before him.
Slash—
A chillingly clear sound.
Clean, concise rupture—unbelievable for severing flesh.
Thud.
The punk's head rolled off his shoulders into Senior Disciple's grasp.
Crimson blood fountained from the neck, spraying the air.
But Senior Disciple was already gone.
Dodging the blood in graceful dance, she stepped back half-pace; not a spot marred her white robe.
Only the pristine plum blossom emblem shone nobly amid the gore.
I watched, forgetting to breathe.
Real combat. I'd seen countless spars, thousands of drills—but never a live blade taking life.
This was a dimension beyond drills: overwhelming, primal terror.
Senior Disciple leveled her bloodied sword at the frozen bandits and whispered coldly,
"Stick out your tongues."
"Or shall I rip them out with your heads?"