After My Thoughts Were Read, My Master Led Me to Change My Fate - Chapter 8

The next morning, Ning Songwu, wearing a narrow-sleeved, cropped practice uniform with her long hair tied back, stood in the courtyard leaning on a wooden sword, her eyes glazed over.

The sky was already turning white, the sun about to rise, yet it was already scattering a fair amount of gold.

“This is called refraction, I think.”

“Yes, it is refraction.”

A certain liberal arts student, running a little wild, analyzed it subconsciously.

Thanks to the lack of mobile phones and short videos here, she had eaten dinner, taken a short walk to digest, and then gone to sleep. It was only about Haˋi hour—10:30 p.m.—so she wasn’t particularly sleepy today.

“But early a.m. classes are deadly, and not entirely because they make you sleepy!”

$$text{[Heavens, Mom, your daughter slept at } 10:30 text{ p.m., are you touched?}] text{ [Oh, my mother can’t be touched anymore. Her daughter is already gone, the best example to warn others not to stay up late.]} text{ [Waaah, Mom…]} $$

She wanted to slap her former self, the one who stayed up late every day.

“Let you stay up, let you stay up! Now you have to get up at 5 a.m. every day, happy?”

Ran Fanyin pressed on her temple and looked at the girl—soft and boneless, almost melting. “Isn’t Ning Songwu an orphan? Where are these parents coming from?”

She suppressed the conjecture in her heart, raised the girl’s hand, and pressed her fingertips against her wrist. The sudden heat startled the child, and the haze in her eyes finally cleared. She collected herself for a moment and stood up straight.

Elder Ran, having entered ‘teaching mode,’ was even colder, her lips forming a straight line. She held a bamboo sword, performing stabs, picks, points, chops, and sweeps, finishing with a beautiful spin and a crisp retraction. Her sword moves were clean; a light stab contained the force of a thousand jin (catties), creating a sharp sound that made Ning Songwu flinch.

$$text{[Hea… Heavens… if I had known, I would have chosen sword dancing as an elective in P.E.]} $$

Ran Fanyin clasped her wrist and said coldly, “The sword techniques you are learning now will all be used in actual combat; they are different from the flashy moves learned simply for performance.”

“Your and my Linggen (Spirit Roots) are different, and cultivators must fight in harmony with their spiritual power. Therefore, I can only teach you some basic and common sword techniques. Once these are mastered, you will have to read books and teach yourself, to develop your own unique path.”

“However, that will be far in the future, so there is no need to worry. The goal for the near future is to build a solid foundation.”

With that, she guided Ning Songwu’s wrist through the moves, had her practice a few times, and pointed out her mistakes.

Ning Songwu had to admit that, even though she didn’t possess the original body’s memory, the body itself did. It was deeply ingrained in her bones. Being guided by her Master had awakened the body’s memory, and subsequent practices made her increasingly proficient. Her toes could tap the ground, and she could even manage a half-spin in the air.

The original owner was truly amazing, very hardworking, and genuinely seemed to want to be an excellent cultivator.

This made the foreign soul from another world feel very ashamed.

This feeling of shame did not last long. Ran Fanyin gently stroked her chin, watched her go through the motions several times, raised her hand to stop the sword stance, and with a slight smile, said, “Next, five hundred repetitions each for the point, stab, chop, and pick.”

$$text{[H-How many?!]} $$

The girl’s inner world screamed tragically, but on her face, she merely lowered her gaze, looking pitiful. “Master, five hundred each?”

“Yes. You carry on. I have something to attend to, and I will return to check your progress. Ensure your movements are precise and do not slack off.”

$$text{[Even if I slack off, how would you know…]} $$

The moment the thought flashed, the red string tied to her wrist glowed. A burning sensation traced a circle on her skin, and a clear, gentle voice was transmitted into Ning Songwu’s mind.

“You are welcome to try and see if This Lord knows if you slack off.”

It seems all old Sword Cultivators share some obsession with dragging children out to practice swordsmanship in the early morning, though in reality, there is nothing particularly special about this time.

The most special thing is probably that they, too, once practiced their swordsmanship at this very hour.

On the Luo Yun Palace, the orderly rows of disciples were led by the Senior Disciple Sister in their daily morning lesson. The prosperous number of people was something that only the two-person Morning Mist Peak could look upon with aspiration but never reach.

Ran Fanyin glanced indifferently and spotted Lin Yuxue, whose face held a hint of discontent, in the line.

The girl was not entirely focused. The moment her Master appeared, her gaze drifted over, the discontent lessening a bit, and she quickly put effort into following the rhythm and showing off.

“This girl is truly strange. Why does she so single-mindedly want to get close to Me?”

The woman in the blue-green robe floated past without a moment’s pause.

Lin Yuxue’s energy deflated, and the resentment in her heart toward Ning Songwu grew a few more points.

“Clearly, I was the best choice! Why did she not choose me? What makes that Ice Spirit Root fellow better or more suitable to inherit Ran Fanyin’s mantle?”

The person practicing her movements meticulously sneezed, her wrist momentarily pausing. The scorching sensation immediately flared up.

She wailed inwardly, “Master, this is an act of God, an act of God!”

A moment later, the woman’s voice, tinged with a faint smile, floated over: “I apologize to you; continue.”

“In a good mood?” Cen Ran asked, looking at the person in the blue-green robe, her silver hair partially draped, still holding a white Go piece.

The Sect Leader glanced at the board where the game had just started, and smiled faintly. “She won’t play, yet she insists on playing every time, and she must take the white pieces.”

“… Are you going to lose again?”

“No, not yet. I was laughing in advance.”

Ran Fanyin rolled her eyes at her, placing a piece on the board, and said calmly, “My apprentice is quite unusual; she does not seem to be a soul of this current world.”

Cen Ran placed a piece and captured some, asking, “Why do you say that?”

Black and white pieces crossed, covering the board. Ran Fanyin gently recounted the events of the past few days, naturally not avoiding the fact that she could hear the girl’s inner thoughts. The expression of the woman in the dark robes grew heavier. After another piece was placed, the outcome of the game was decided, and the story of the past few days was completely told.

Of course, she omitted the part where the girl casually mentioned Cen Ran and Mianmian, and the fact that her apprentice might have a preference for other women.

She would still keep some of the little apprentice’s privacy protected.

Elder Ran calmly took a stack of commonly used silver notes in the cultivation world from her spatial ring and handed them to the person opposite her, her red lips slightly parting. “Since you have heard this, we are now like ants on the same rope; you are forbidden to speak of it.”

After all, if too many people knew, the strange looks would be enough to drown a girl whose resolve was not yet firm. Not to mention, if the news leaked out of the sect, the jackals and tigers of the Jianghu (martial world) would likely be fixated on her little apprentice, using every method to capture her and thoroughly investigate.

She did not want even a whisper of gossip to spread. After all, “The voices of the many can melt metal; accumulated slander can destroy a person’s bones.”

Cen Ran glared at her and slapped her hand away. “Look at the board; you won. That’s a rare occurrence.”

“Do you still need to instruct This Lord? But, tsk tsk, that storybook really dared to write that the entire Upcloud Sect would be wiped out. It’s hard to imagine.”

The Upcloud Sect is not considered overly strong right now, but it’s not a small, weak sect either, and it has many talented disciples. Why would the Demon Venerable go to such lengths, sacrificing so many soldiers and generals, to slaughter this place? Just because Lin Yuxue suffered a grievance?

Compared to that reason, it’s more likely that the Demon Venerable woke up in a bad mood that day and decided to wipe out the Upcloud Sect.

“It is quite interesting.”

Cen Ran placed a black piece, tapping lightly. “In that case, we absolutely cannot let Lin Yuxue and Junior Niece Ning be together in the assessment a year from now.”

“Huh? We’ve already grouped them,” Ran Fanyin said with a smile. “Ning Songwu, Luo Sheng, Liu Ruoying.”

“Sword, Art, Medicine. Isn’t that clever?”

“When did this happen?”

“Yesterday. The three of us got together and settled it while chatting.”

“…” The Sect Leader was greatly hurt and clutched her chest. “You didn’t invite me again.”

Elder Ran gave her a puzzled look, then suddenly remembered something. She tapped her chin with the tip of her fan and tentatively asked, “I might go to Green Leaf Peak later. Care to join?”

“No need. There are many sect affairs. We can talk about it when I have leisure time,” the Sect Leader said with a serious expression.

Once the woman in the blue-green robe left, shaking her fan that she never put down throughout the year, Cen Ran pressed a black piece and silently moved it one position.

A dead game instantly came alive, all by the displacement of one piece.

Lin Yuxue.

The female protagonist.

To be written as the female protagonist in a storybook and even circulated in another world, she must possess something extraordinary.

But, compared to this seemingly shallow and already guarded-against girl, Ning Songwu, who is so reserved and bottles everything up inside, needs more care.

“I wonder how much of the storybook she saw is true and how much is false. I still do not believe the Upcloud Sect would fall at the hands of the Demon Venerable for such an absurd reason.”

“Moreover…”

Songwu (Mist-Pine), Wusong (Rime/Hoarfrost). “I wonder what the person who chose this name was thinking. They picked such a beautiful yet short-lived name, one that crystallizes in the deep night but gradually melts under the warm sun.”

“It truly is not a good name.”

She pushed the black piece back to its original position, staring at the entire dead game, and sighed softly.

“What a terrible Go player she is. She needed to be given this much of an advantage just to win by half a point, and that was while holding the white pieces. I truly exerted myself to the utmost to barely let her win by half a point.”

“So clumsy.”

“Yet, such a person has now obtained this kind of opportunity. I do not know if it is good or bad.”

“In any case, for her, it cannot get any worse.”

Cen Ran sighed softly, pulled her sleeves up and stood, taking the black piece she had just moved, and tossed it into the Go bowl.

“Let us leave it at this for now.”

The woman in the blue-green robe descended from the clouds and was just reaching the courtyard gate when she heard the child’s inner voice.

$$text{[… } 499, 500! text{ Done! Humph, I’m not that weak after all!]} $$

One of the excellent qualities of contemporary university students: even if they curse the teachers who assign homework to high heaven in their minds, they will still diligently complete and submit the assignments. The point is: “I can curse you, but you must not withhold the grades I deserve.”

She pushed the door open. The girl was staring down at her wrists. Four movements, five hundred repetitions each, were too taxing. Both arms, including her wrists, were stinging and numb, and even her legs, which had been exerting themselves the whole time, were trembling.

Although this body possessed the experience of the past, moving it genuinely still resulted in deep-seated fatigue.

“Come here and sit down,” the woman called to her gently. She looked up and saw the woman sitting at the stone table, with several bottles and jars in front of her.

She walked over and sat down. Her hand was immediately grasped by the woman. The cuff was untied, revealing her somewhat red and swollen wrist. A cooling ointment was applied, gradually melting as it was enveloped by warm spiritual power, integrating into her skin and bone marrow.

“I will help you today, but starting tomorrow, you must do this yourself. The most important thing in learning the sword is this pair of hands, do you understand?” the woman said gently, her fingers clasped together, lightly kneading her wrist to promote the medicinal effect.

Ning Songwu’s eyelashes fluttered. She only dared to look at the silver hair on the woman’s head. The warm touch on her wrist hinted at how beautiful those hands must be.

“I dare not look down.”

“I fear that, from now on, I will not dare to look upon Guanyin.”

In a short while, Ran Fanyin picked up the other hand, which hung limply. The woman looked at it for a moment, then smiled. “I must say, even though your body hasn’t stretched out yet, these hands are born beautiful—slender and long. Just a bit too thin; you should eat more and nourish yourself well.”

$$text{[Master… please don’t talk about my hands…]} $$ She weakly protested in her heart, pressing down on the slight indecent thought.

Ran Fanyin was momentarily awkward, then smoothly changed the subject and began to knead the ointment again.

“My little apprentice is too fragile today. I almost forgot that she is a ‘homosexual woman.'”