Chapter 56 — Determination

The Great Strength Pill—no, the Golden Crow Pill—had plainly improved Zuo Yan's circumstances, above all by greatly easing his financial crisis. Yet neither Xu Yi and Shi Heng nor his uncle-master Yan Le seemed any more optimistic about Zuo Yan, and this was plain enough from the magic treasures they had given him. One sent him a pair of bracers, the other a spirit armor—all of it defensive. Clearly the two had merely been trying to spare Zuo Yi another humiliation.

The problems now before Zuo Yan were severe.

One was to earn crystals; the other was to practice his sword art.

He was in debt to outsiders now, so earning crystals was without question his most pressing need—whatever the time, earning crystals was the foremost matter he had to face. Practicing his sword art, meanwhile, would largely determine what became of him when he faced Luo Li's challenge at the sect trials.

Both matters came down to one direct problem: time. If he refined pills, the time left for practicing his sword art would shrink dramatically. He had not had much chance of winning to begin with, and by this reckoning Zuo Yan decided his odds were simply zero.

Crystals, or that one breath of pride?

Zuo Yan found himself caught between two hard choices.

"My lord, what have you been busy with lately?" A pink paper crane came fluttering over, bearing the same elegant handwriting as ever.

"Practicing the sword!"

"Oh my—when did my lord become so industrious? Your slave is quite unaccustomed to it."

"I've taken on a cold, lecherous, sleazy bastard!"

"Hehe, what happened?"

"His woman made advances on me, so I slapped her, and he came looking for payback." Zuo Yan embellished the story a little. Hmm, that counted as advances, didn't it? So Zuo Yan reasoned.

"Chop him up!" Two elegant characters in vermilion ink exuded a thick, fierce banditry that left Zuo You—a grown man—deeply ashamed.

"But right now there's a fine chance to make a pile of crystals." As if possessed, Zuo Yan wrote out the dilemma weighing on his heart.

"A gentleman may be killed, but never shamed. A few paltry crystals—do not make your slave despise my lord."

A few paltry crystals—truly, the well-fed know nothing of the starving. Zuo Yan reflected on why he had asked someone so unreliable. He replied with disdain: "Woman, what sort of gentleman are you?" Yet his eyes lingered of their own accord on those words: A gentleman may be killed, but never shamed.

"Hehe, your slave only wishes my lord to show his mighty prowess!"

"Your lord is busy. Do not reply." Zuo Yan wrote these words and tossed the brush aside.

He spent a whole day shut in the pill chamber, refining away, and every Golden Crow Pill he produced he handed over to his uncle-master Yan Le, to relieve Senior Sister Li Ying's urgency.

Before the sect trials, Zuo Yi planned to refine no more; he meant to devote all his time to the sword. At the mere thought of Luo Li's and Hao Min's faces, fighting spirit filled his whole body. What was he earning crystals for? Was it not to grow stronger—and, once strong, to seek his answers?

Once he had thought it through, he hesitated no longer.

Hesitation and doubt were swept clean away; Zuo Sui felt the world open up before him, his mind clear and empty, suffused with an indescribable comfort.

Back at West Wind Valley, he summoned the Ice Crystal Sword and practiced the Leaving Water Sword Art over and over.

He sealed off the valley mouth and hung up a sign: "In seclusion—do not disturb."

This swiftly became a joke throughout Wukong Yan. Zuo Yan was of outer-disciple stock, and the business with Hao Min had made many think him far too arrogant; add to that the hot sales of the Golden Crow Pill, and there was no shortage of the envious—plenty were waiting to laugh at him.

Such was the difference. Luo Li's manner was always cold and proud, and the crowd merely held him in awe, taking it as only natural. But when Zuo Yan slapped Hao Min—though Hao Min had been in the wrong first—many still found it hard to stomach.

It was at this moment that Senior Brother Qin Cheng returned. Qin Cheng was a disciple of the sect master; his cultivation was not the highest, nor his battle prowess the strongest, yet he possessed a natural dignity, enjoyed the deep trust of all, and carried great prestige.

Luo Li and Qin Cheng sat facing one another. Qin Cheng had a square face and thick brows; his clothes were dusty and weariness faintly showed in his expression, yet seated there he naturally exuded a steady, abyss-like presence.

Qin Cheng reproached him rather sternly: "You were far too rash this time. Taking Junior Sister Hao Min away for so long without returning—no wonder the sect master is furious."

Facing Qin Cheng, the coldness in Luo Li's face softened considerably. He answered carelessly: "So long as she is happy."

Toward this junior brother of his, Qin Cheng felt mostly helplessness. He knew well enough what Junior Sister Hao Min's temperament was like, and so he changed the subject: "Have you made any progress lately?"

Luo Li said proudly: "The fifth layer."

Qin Cheng looked pleased. He drew a jade slip from his robes: "This is the Formless Sword Art. Take it and study it well."

At the words "Formless Sword Art," Luo Li's eyes blazed with light.

"Wei Sheng has been sent into the Sword Cave. The sect master and the others place great hopes in him—no doubt they wish him to restore the Voidless Sword Art with his own hands." Qin Cheng glanced at Luo Li. "He was once your sword servant. Do not let yourself be outdone by him."

Luo Li's expression turned abruptly ugly. His fists clenched so hard his nails dug into his flesh without his noticing. This matter had always been a thorn in his heart. That lowly creature he had once ordered about at will was now held in far higher regard by the sect than he—and every time he thought of it, it was as if worms gnawed at his heart, bit by bit.

"In those days the Voidless Sword Art was split into two arts, the Formless Sword Art and the Void Sword Art. If a sword art can be split, then it can surely be rejoined. Wei Sheng's talent is outstanding, to be sure, but in your talent, junior brother, I have never doubted." Qin Cheng spoke solemnly and slowly: "I hope that in your hands the grandeur of our founding ancestor may be restored."

Luo Li's breathing grew rapid. He stared at the jade slip in his hand, his expression shifting uncertainly.

The Voidless Sword Art—the name he had dreamed of countless times, the supreme lore created by this sect's founding ancestor! Among the countless supreme arts under heaven, it ranked in the sixth grade, its power without equal!

To restore the grandeur of the founding ancestor...

Shi Heng's words struck like thunder from the ninth heaven, echoing again and again in his ears, and the blood in his whole body seemed to catch fire. He seemed to see himself standing among the clouds, gazing down proudly upon the world!

Forcing down his excitement, he accepted the crystals and bowed gravely: "Your junior brother will spare no effort!"

In the Voidless Hall, Pei Xu and Xin Yan were drinking tea. Ever since they had slain demons in the spirit fields that time, whenever they had leisure they would often sit together over tea and idle talk.

"A pity Third Brother isn't here, or the three of us would be together again." Pei Xu smiled. "He'll have his hands full for a while, I expect."

Xin Yan drank on his own. Even his tea drinking was utterly unlike other men's—there was not the slightest savor of leisure in it. Whenever Pei Xu filled his cup, he would raise it, tip back his head, and drain it in one gulp, crisp and clean. Later he simply poured for himself and drank cup after cup.

"Drinking like that, you're truly wasting my spirit tea." Pei Xu looked pained.

Xin Yan did not even glance at him and did not pause for an instant. "That matter Tian Songzi raised—what of it?"