Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Big Jingliu: Oh~

【Training Space】

Today's training space was slightly different from the norm. Usually, Senior Jingliu liked making a late entrance — playing it cool — though she wasn't all that cool.

Anyway, today the training space was draped in a layer of frost and snow. The cold was bone-deep, fine frost flowers drifting down from some invisible height, silently blanketing the ground and settling on shoulders and hair... Senior Jingliu's mood appeared to be less than ideal.

"I have a feeling someone's about to have a bad time."

Asta hugged her thin training garment tighter. Her slight frame trembled faintly in the cold. It was chilly — she'd grown accustomed to the training space's warmth, and the sudden change was jarring.

Wangshu seemed completely unaffected. He clutched the pocket watch in his hand, eyes resolute.

"What are you thinking about?"

Jingliu's voice arrived without warning — colder than the surrounding air. Her sword turned with a flick of her wrist, tracing a chilling half-arc before she raised it one-handed, tip pointing straight at Wangshu and Asta standing side by side.

Was this the sort of thing you could just say?

Wangshu's gaze swept through the blizzard of frost, past the shivering, neck-hunching Asta, and ultimately settled on the crimson-eyed, frost-kissed swordswoman at the center of the space — an ice-and-snow incarnation.

He blinked, as if genuinely appraising the view, then answered with utmost sincerity:

"A world clad in silver, surpassingly enchanting."

Seeing the scenery, this was genuinely the first phrase that popped into his head.

Jingliu: ...

What on earth was this little creature babbling about?

Asta clutched her forehead in agony, practically groaning: "It's the Senior! The Senior! She's obviously gearing up for advanced training — the kind where we might get hit!"

Not some poetic winter-wonderland moment! And these were frost flowers, not snowflakes!

And even if they were snowflakes, now was hardly the time for sightseeing!

Wangshu, seeming to half-understand, seamlessly pivoted to a new angle of praise: "Then — a beauty like jade, a sword like a rainbow!"

This one he was confident about! He felt this was a better fit — praising the Senior's bearing while highlighting the blade's ferocity.

Jingliu went silent. A suffocating, seconds-long silence.

Only when the frost flowers stopped falling and the air gradually warmed — no longer so aggressively frigid — did she find her voice. She forced an expression, tone complex and unreadable.

"Little boy, seeing you still this... optimistic — I'm actually... rather pleased."

Wangshu blinked. He didn't get it.

But he drew his sword too, wrist flicking in a flourish. Dashing and handsome.

"Because of the Divination Commission, Xianzhou warfare is typically mobilized extremely rapidly. Not to mention the existence of tacticians — specialists who've devoted their careers to battle planning."

Jingliu set aside his unorthodox responses and returned to her instructor's measured tone.

"I imagine you felt the urgency of war today. Tonight's training may be somewhat forced for your current level — but the times won't wait."

Jingliu studied Wangshu quietly. She didn't select students based on talent — Wangshu, Asta, even Jing Yuan, it didn't matter.

If they wanted to learn, she'd teach. But Wangshu was a little different. He was in Star Calendar Year 6299, deeply tied to her past self. Professionally and personally, he warranted more attention.

"Relax, Senior. When it comes to cramming and force-feeding knowledge, I'm confident I'm second to none."

Wangshu stood with sword in hand, posture straight, eager to begin.

It wasn't exactly something to brag about, but his mood today was excellent.

Even his sword flourishes had a buoyancy to them — slightly at odds with the frosty surroundings.

"Then let's begin." Jingliu nodded slightly, a flicker of something subtle passing through her eyes. "I hope this helps with what comes next."

Before the words had fully landed, her wrist snapped. The ice blade's tip became a cold star, flicking Wangshu's blade upward. No deeper meaning — pure mischief.

Then she noticed something on Wangshu's chest. Something familiar — a faint echo drifting up from the deep upstream of memory.

"That pocket watch — what is it?"

She withdrew half a step, sheathing her sword. Her voice betrayed no emotion, but her gaze was fixed on Wangshu's chest.

"A gift from little Jingliu."

Wangshu tucked the watch into his breast, chin lifting.

Jingliu was quiet for a long time before managing: "Oh..."

Asta, cradling her sword, thought for a moment and wisely retreated to the sideline. She had a feeling someone was about to get beaten up.

Jingliu didn't act on impulse. Her tone was level... even arguably "gentle" as she spoke: "Take it out. Set it aside. It wouldn't be good if it interfered with the training ahead."

In this training space, reality-side objects weren't actually affected — accessories like that couldn't be damaged here. But Jingliu said it anyway, and Wangshu thought about it and didn't refuse.

Once Wangshu placed the watch aside and resumed his stance —

Jingliu said nothing more. The next instant, her ice blade thrust forward savagely, a streak of blue lightning aimed at the sword in Wangshu's hand.

Wangshu's pupils contracted. Almost on instinct, he swung horizontally to block — but the sheer force sent him stumbling back several paces. The sword nearly flew from his grip.

"Focus! Stay sharp!"

As if appending those two commands somehow proved this was special training rather than a beating, Jingliu's figure had already materialized behind Wangshu like a phantom.

Ice blade held in a reverse grip, edge vertical — one clean swat and Wangshu would be hurting for a while.

CLANG!

An even louder collision. Wangshu torqued his waist, spun, and blocked with the flat of his blade — both hands locked tight. He absorbed the blow head-on.

Jingliu's cool crimson eyes widened slowly. Huh?

"Senior~"

"Compared to your killing sword — how's mine?"

Wangshu's arms strained with effort, but the smile on his face was dazzling enough to daze — making Jingliu blank for a split second. Was this little brat provoking her?

Wangshu's raw stats weren't low. In reality, he was constantly channeling Senior Jingliu's power, supplemented by the Propagation remnants. His current rating was roughly 0.4 × (Jingliu + Propagation remnants) + 1.0 × Propagation remnants (uncontrolled).

"Lucky."

Jingliu bit out the word, drove a kick into the flat of the blade to create space, and retreated. But the instant her toes touched ground, the blue silhouette blurred — reappearing at Wangshu's flank.

"But luck doesn't put food on the table."

CLANG!

Jingliu felt like she was going insane. Or the world was. Wait — what was happening? Was this brat improving this fast?

Wangshu grinned. Before he could speak, Jingliu pulled back two more steps.

She abandoned the power contest entirely. Her sword shifted through rapid variations — thrust, thrust, thrust! Every jab targeted vital points and the inevitable paths of his dodges, fast enough to leave afterimages hanging in the air.

A rain of sword-tips. Asta watched from the side, eyes spinning. Hey, buddy — weren't we training together? Did you skip ahead on the progress bar with some kind of cheat?

Mercifully, the dazzling exchange ended moments later. When Jingliu's blade came to rest at Wangshu's throat, she still looked faintly dazed and uncertain.

"Little boy, have you... had some other fortuitous encounter?"

She withdrew her sword, watching Wangshu rub his wrist. He looked the same as always — optimistic, eager, brimming with hope.

"Fortuitous encounter?" Wangshu thought carefully, then shook his head. "No, it's just that I spent the day with little Jingliu, and my passion for swordsmanship feels... clearer."

He reflected a moment, then added: "It's like swinging the sword became more natural — free, instinctive. Especially when I look at you, Senior."

Seeing Senior Jingliu's cold, composed figure holding a sword always made him instinctively picture that other pair of crimson eyes — the same color, yet vivid and bright. It kept his spirits high. Swinging the sword felt uninhibited. Free and easy.

His smile was genuine. Jingliu wanted to say something but held back.

Let's set aside for now what you mean by "especially when I look at me" — do you think your rate of improvement is normal?