Chapter 123 — A New Quilt
CHAPTER 123
A New Quilt
“It won't fit,” Shi Feng said.
Ling Qingzhu stood in the middle of their room holding a rolled quilt nearly as wide as the folding screen. She looked at his bedding corner, then at the quilt.
“You can fold it,” Ling Qingzhu replied.
“Three times?” Shi Feng asked.
“Then you'll be warm,” Ling Qingzhu said.
He took one end before it knocked the mirror from the table. Together they spread it across the bed. Soft cotton filled the dark blue cloth, and the stitching was neat. It was much better than the blanket he used through the rainy months.
“Why buy it now?” Shi Feng asked.
“The old one is thin,” Ling Qingzhu replied. “You're taking it on the road too, aren't you?”
He looked at her face. She tried to look annoyed at the question, but he could see she wanted him to like the gift.
“Thank you,” Shi Feng said.
Her expression softened. She smoothed one corner of the quilt and immediately began explaining how the seller tried to charge extra for the darker cloth.
“I told him the cotton didn't know what colour it was,” Ling Qingzhu said.
“A strong argument,” Shi Feng replied. “Did he ask the cotton?”
She pushed the quilt into his arms.
He laughed and folded it smaller. When it finally fit the corner, she looked far more satisfied than the simple purchase required. He felt happy too. Whatever bothered them yesterday could still be talked through.
That afternoon, Shi Feng took his refined artifact sword outside the capital. His cultivation wasn't hidden anymore, but the full strength of his body and foundation still belonged to him alone.
At a weapon stall near the gate, Ren Bo tried to sell him a silver sword tassel. The middle-aged seller was at Qi Condensation and spoke as if he personally instructed every famous swordsman in Great Liang.
“It steadies the sword's flight,” Ren Bo said. “All the young masters use one.”
“How?” Shi Feng asked.
“It improves the balance,” Ren Bo replied.
Shi Feng held the tassel between two fingers. An uneven iron weight hid beneath the silver thread.
“It improves your balance of spirit stones,” Shi Feng said, putting it down.
Ren Bo's smile disappeared. Shi Feng left before the seller could develop a second explanation.
Beyond the Hengyun trail, he found an empty stretch of rock above a dry stream. He checked the approaches, set his pack down, and drew the sword.
His qi entered the refined artifact. The blade lifted from his palm and stopped a few steps away. Its movement was light, but that didn't mean he could stop paying attention.
He placed three broken sticks upright between the stones. The first stood straight ahead. The others were on either side, close enough that a careless turn would hit the wrong one.
His blade passed the first and curved toward the second. He stopped it before the edge struck, then drew it back through the narrow gap.
Too much movement. The third stick shook in the blade's wake.
He tried again with less force. This time the sword turned in a shorter arc and stopped cleanly beside the second target. He brought it back to his hand and stepped into Piercing Current.
The thrust stopped at a pale mark on the rock. He didn't strike through it. Precision was the purpose today.
Turning Wave followed. His wrist and foot changed together, moving the blade across a second mark. Then Returning Tide pulled the point back just enough before the next thrust.
The three movements were becoming familiar in his own body. He could use overwhelming strength whenever he needed it. He preferred having the choice to use less.
A small Stone-Eating Lizard climbed onto a nearby boulder and stared at him. It wasn't strong enough to threaten an ordinary Qi Condensation cultivator.
“You're not a teacher,” Shi Feng told it. “Stop looking so disappointed.”
The lizard snapped up a beetle and disappeared.
He practiced until the blade could turn between all three sticks without disturbing the wrong one. Then he increased the distance by a few steps and began again. Flying the sword farther was easy. Placing it exactly where he wanted while moving himself needed more practice.
That difference mattered against anyone worth fighting.
A shadow crossed the streambed just as he prepared to sheathe the sword. Shi Feng looked up and saw a Greywing Spirit Hawk drop from the cliff.
Its hooked beak opened. The beast's strength matched a Bone Refinement cultivator with more than half his bones refined. An ordinary hunter would've reached for cover before the talons arrived.
Shi Feng lifted two fingers.
The sword turned upward and passed through the hawk's chest. Its wings folded at once. He guided the falling body away from his pack, then brought the blade back into his hand.
The whole exchange took less than a breath. His early Foundation Establishment cultivation already put a refined artifact's power within easy reach. Combined with his foundation and sword control, a beast of this level couldn't force him to take a step.
“An unfortunate place to hunt,” Shi Feng said.
He touched the carcass and let the devouring flow begin. The useful qi entered his body, and the remains dried beneath his fingers. He sat long enough to assimilate the gain before leaving. He didn't need to rush home carrying unrefined beast qi just because the kill was easy.
When he finally sheathed the blade, the sun was low. He sat beside the streambed and let his qi settle. His early Foundation Establishment foundation felt firm, with room for far more medicine than he'd already assimilated.
The tournament would give him opponents beyond Great Liang's young cultivators. He looked forward to testing his sword against them. Sima Yu would be there too, without a kingdom's rank deciding whose life mattered more.
Shi Feng's gaze turned cold for a moment. He hadn't forgotten Guo Zhen or Cao Wenshu. Stopping at third place didn't erase an attempted murder.
He put the thought away and headed home. His cultivation remained at early Foundation Establishment, steady enough that the hawk's medicine caused no disturbance.
Ling Qingzhu sat in the kitchen peeling a pear when he returned. She cut one piece, tasted it, and frowned.
“Sour?” Shi Feng asked.
“Very,” Ling Qingzhu replied, holding it out to him.
He took the piece. It was sweet.
She smiled before he could speak.
“A fairy's judgment can't be questioned,” Ling Qingzhu said.
“Then I'll eat the rest to protect your reputation,” Shi Feng replied.
She pulled the pear away at once. He took a chair beside her, feeling the earlier strain ease again.
She asked about his practice. He marked three dots on the table with one finger, showed her the sword's path between them, and explained the change in his qi. Her questions were precise. He didn't mistake her for a helpless beauty after watching the qualification.
“You turn it before drawing it back,” Ling Qingzhu said, tracing a short line on the table.
“Too early and it exposes the edge,” Shi Feng replied.
“Then don't turn so much,” Ling Qingzhu said.
He considered the suggestion. It was useful.
“I'll try it,” Shi Feng said.
Her pleasure was immediate. She hid it by cutting another pear slice and claiming she was only tired of hearing about broken sticks.
After supper, they moved the table to make room for his newly folded quilt. She insisted its edge shouldn't touch the wall. He pointed out that the room hadn't grown since morning.
They argued for half a dozen sentences, then found a position that suited them both.
That night, he lay beneath the warmer quilt and listened to her turn a page behind the screen. He thought, I'll ask her properly tomorrow. Not about dates or carriages. About us.
He didn't know she was planning a different sort of conversation.