Chapter Seventeen: Witnessing Luo Qingchen’s Humiliation, Condensing the Dao Fruit of Fearlessness

Inside the side chamber, the Lin household maids had already prepared clean garments for Anle. Originally, the maid wished to help Anle change, but he declined, leaving the room in quietude. Outside, the rain whispered its delicate tune, making the silence within even more profound.

Anle sat upon a chair, his expression calm. The ambush he encountered at Jing Street had come as something of a surprise, yet it was not wholly beyond his acceptance. Lin’an, as the capital of Great Zhao, was a place where powers intermingled, nobility abounded, and countless intrigues and secrets sprawled like a vast web—impossible to trace to their source.

“The one who sent people after me today was the artist Liu Qingyan. Yet since I have entered the Lin household and bear the title of scholar, what boldness could Liu Qingyan possibly have to lay a hand on me?” Anle mused. “Therefore, someone stands behind Liu Qingyan, and that someone must be the very Lu Qingchen I saw in the carriage today.”

He poured himself a cup of water, sipping as his thoughts turned. Lu Qingchen had wanted Liu Qingyan to enter the Lin household as a painter—had Anle snatched that opportunity away from her? Behind Lu Qingchen, surely another force lingered, and their aim was the Lin household itself.

Yet to dare strike at him so openly at Jing Street, such a force must be at odds with, if not outright antagonistic to, the Lin family. These were the entanglements of the mighty, and Anle was but a mayfly inadvertently swept into the current, caught in the crossfire without warning.

Frowning, Anle slowly straightened out the tangled threads in his mind, faintly grasping the truth behind certain matters. His slender, well-defined fingers tapped lightly upon the table. In the dusky chamber, he exhaled a long breath, steadying his heart.

A thought flickered.

A luminous curtain appeared before him.

...

[Name: Anle]

[Threads of Chronal Qi: 6]

[Dao Fruits of Time: Prodigy in Cultivation (3/10), Sword Dancer (0/10)]

[Mastered Arts: “Cascading Sword Chart” (0 threads), “Breath-Guiding Method” (1 thread)]

[Mastered Skills: “Five Beasts Body Tempering” (0 threads), “Zhao Ancestor’s Long Fist (Fragment)” (1 thread)]

...

He now possessed six threads of Chronal Qi: four drawn from Lu Qingchen and her driver, and two newly gathered from Lin Zhuifeng. Today, Anle had truly sensed the gulf between himself and powerful cultivators, yet he neither despaired nor fell to discouragement; instead, a surge of fighting spirit arose within him.

As Lu Qingchen herself had said, there is a tiger in the heart of the youth, and that tiger is Anle’s own yearning for strength.

Chronal Qi—this was his reliance.

He closed his eyes, preparing to allocate the Chronal Qi. Yet just as his mind stirred, a sudden rush of golden radiance swept before his eyes. The golden Chronal Qi twisted like incense smoke, rising and burning gently.

Anle could not help but feel a surge of delight—he had unexpectedly acquired a thread of golden Chronal Qi.

Ripples like water shimmered across the space before him, and a vision appeared.

...

Snow drifted thick and heavy, blanketing the world in white.

A figure in white walked through the snow, bearing a long box of yellow pearwood upon his back. He trod the drifts as if walking on level ground, leaving no trace. This was none other than Lu Qingchen.

Facing her stood a thatched cottage, its roof sagging under the weight of snow, on the verge of collapse. Within the cottage sat a graceful young man, quietly tending a boiling kettle over the stove, a few tea leaves bobbing in the rolling water.

“Lu Qingchen of Qingzhou, come to Lin’an to challenge the world’s finest, seeking to nurture my sword intent. Three victories so far, my sword intent vigorous—I dare come to test the champion scholar’s depths.”

Lu Qingchen’s white robes outshone the snow as she bowed slightly, her voice ethereal, brimming with supreme pride and the will to battle. On this day, she was in the flush of youth, like a dragon rising from the deep, radiant and dazzling.

Her words shook loose a few clumps of snow from the thatched eaves, rustling like a bamboo grove in the wind.

Inside, the elegant young man turned his head slightly. Though clad in coarse robes, nobility shone from his bearing. He spared Lu Qingchen only a glance before shaking his head. “Your sword intent is lacking.”

“How will you know if you do not try?” Lu Qingchen sat cross-legged in the snow, as if atop a floating cloud. She removed the yellow pearwood sword case from her back, placing it across her knees, hands caressing it as one might a guqin.

She undid the golden clasp, opening the case to reveal six palm-length short swords—three silver, three gray.

The elegant young man ignored her, pouring the boiling water into a bowl to steep his tea.

The color of the brew was golden as chrysanthemum; the tea leaves blossomed like flowers in the swirling water.

Watching the tea unfurl, a faint smile touched the young man’s lips.

Outside, amid the snowy world, Lu Qingchen, seeing herself disregarded, took the initiative. Her mind flared, and with a breath, the little swords in the case rose as if dandelion seeds caught by the wind.

She breathed again, her exhale as sharp as sword qi.

The six swords arced through the air, streaking forward, skimming over the snowy ground, carving deadly traces in the white, carrying with them the chill and killing intent of a wintry day, racing toward the tea-sipping man in coarse robes.

From the first move, she unleashed her most devastating technique.

The silver swords struck openly; the gray ones concealed themselves, melting into shadow and silence.

The young man blew away the steam from his bowl and took a sip of tea. As the six flying swords hurtled toward him, he finally glanced over, shaking his head with casual ease.

Then, he raised his hand, fingers splayed.

The six swords were caught effortlessly, set softly down upon the table.

The man in coarse clothing rose and stepped outside the cottage.

He gazed at Lu Qingchen, who sat stunned in the snow, disbelief etched across her face, his own expression emotionless.

Then, he lifted his hand again, palm facing up, then pressed down.

In an instant, Lu Qingchen felt an overwhelming force of will descend upon her, as if a mountain crashed down, threatening to break her spirit, to force her to bow, to compel her submission…

Though her sword intent was fierce, under that terrifying pressure she was pressed to the ground, her sword broken, her will clouded.

Snow burst up around her, falling from the sky as if another blizzard had begun.

The man in coarse robes dusted himself off and returned to his tea.

Outside, the snow drifted down.

Only Lu Qingchen remained, her sobs echoing through the snow, whether from her wounded spirit or the loss of her six swords, none could tell.

...

The vision faded, azure light receding as Anle’s mind returned to the present.

The chamber was as quiet as before, spring rain pattering outside the window.

Anle exhaled, surprised that this thread of Chronal Qi concealed such a secret.

“So Lu Qingchen failed in her challenge, her spirit broken and will clouded. That’s why, earlier at Jing Street, she tried to use her presence to repress me, to make me bend.”

Anle pondered—Lu Qingchen, having suffered such humiliation herself, now wished others to taste the same… Was this a twist of her heart?

And yet, today she had been further suppressed by Lady Hua. That inner distortion must only be deepening.

He shook his head. This Chronal Qi was clearly not born of pride, but of deep desolation—an impression burned profoundly into Lu Qingchen’s memory, thus captured by the strand of time.

Before his eyes, tiny blue characters appeared.

[Dao Fruit Acquired: The Fearless Heart]

[Note: The Fearless Heart (Dao Fruit): With the fearless heart, one is imbued with courage unyielding, a spine that cannot be bent, always forging ahead, cleaving through adversity. The heart of fearlessness grows stronger with each ordeal overcome, feeding back into one’s cultivation.]

A thread of golden Chronal Qi had condensed into a Dao Fruit: the Fearless Heart!

Anle’s eyes gleamed, joy flickering across his heart. Watching Lu Qingchen’s spirit broken, her will clouded, he had instead condensed a Fearless Heart. What an unusual turn—a blow not merely to the body, but to the soul!

If Lu Qingchen were to learn of this, she would surely be driven to distraction.

Upon careful study, Anle realized that this Dao Fruit differed from the others, apparently unable to be enhanced by additional Chronal Qi.

Yet the effect of the Fearless Heart was remarkable—so long as it endured, no pressure could break his spirit, and with each hardship conquered, it would only grow stronger, feeding his cultivation and raising him ever higher.

“So, Lu Qingchen’s attempt to crush me today has become a stepping stone for my heart. In the days to come, if I defeat her, humiliate her, or even slay her, my Fearless Heart will grow, and my cultivation will benefit…”

Anle’s resolve to surpass and overcome Lu Qingchen only deepened.

He closed his eyes, continuing to study the Chronal Qi. With one thread having condensed into the Dao Fruit, the remaining five, being ordinary, he invested wholly into the Dao Fruit [Prodigy in Cultivation], raising its accumulation to eight threads.

He felt his mind clear, his comprehension of the “Cascading Sword Chart” deepening.

This was clearly the benefit of the Prodigy Dao Fruit’s enhancement.

Having finished, Anle changed into fresh clothes. His hair was still damp, his face as fair as jade, as he stepped from the chamber.

The delicate maid had been waiting outside. Seeing the handsome Anle, her eyes filled with bashful longing. She led the way carefully, guiding Anle toward the Waterside Pavilion.

Above the pavilion, spring rain fell once more, sending ripples across the great pool.

In the main hall, Lady Hua sat reading, while Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng nibbled on pastries.

Anle entered, bowing respectfully to greet Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng, and at the same time, drew two threads of Chronal Qi from Lin Qingyin.

Though the Qi upon Lin Qingyin was not as abundant as that upon Lin Zhuifeng, it still numbered eight threads.

“Greetings to Lady Hua. Many thanks for your timely aid today,” Anle said, bowing with sincere gratitude.

Lady Hua set aside her scholarly tome, her gaze falling upon Anle. She paused in surprise.

She had expected Anle, having suffered Lu Qingchen’s pressure, to be dispirited and low in spirit, and had planned to summon him for a few words of encouragement.

Yet to her astonishment, there was not a trace of defeat or dejection in the young man before her. Instead, he seemed transformed; his eyes shone bright, his spine stood straight as a pillar of heaven, his bearing as grand as a resounding bell!

And within him, a faint aura of fearlessness!

Like a peerless swordsman’s sheathed blade—still concealed, yet should it ever be drawn, no matter the towering waves or storm-blackened clouds, one stroke would cleave through all.

The youth harbored a tiger in his heart, and within that heart, fearlessness!

A flash of delight flickered in Lady Hua’s eyes. Perhaps this youth was a hidden treasure indeed.