Jingxing's explanation

All afternoon, the bluestone slabs of the Martial Arts Arena were covered with debris swirled up by the sword wind.

Yanqing relentlessly pursued Jingxing's clothes.

Thrust, flick, intercept, cleave— Yanqing unleashed all the techniques recorded in the Cloud Knights Manual. His swordplay was fierce, like a torrent breaking through ice, carrying the sharpness of a young man.

However, Jingxing didn't even use his weapons.

He had his hands in his trench coat pockets, his feet barely darting about. When a sword flashed by, he tilted his head; when the tip of a sword came straight for his throat, he dodged it; occasionally, when faced with an extremely tricky downward slash, he would simply lift the sole of his boot and use his heel to gently deflect the spine of the sword to the side.

The hem of the trench coat was rolled up, and the kid didn't even get a sliver of a tear.

The three incense sticks had burned down to almost nothing.

Yanqing's breathing was already disordered, and the sound of his footsteps changed from the initial silence of falling leaves to the muffled thuds on the stone bricks. He switched from holding the sword with one hand to two, then back to one hand, and finally gripped it tightly with both hands. The flesh in his palms had long been shaken and rolled up, and the blood seeping from his tiger's mouth flowed down the handguard, dripping onto the stone slab and forming a dark red dotted line.

After slipping and losing his grip on the sword hilt, Yanqing took advantage of the opening in his body to smear his hand hard on his trouser leg, gritted his teeth, and lunged forward again.

Jingxing let him do as he pleased, only occasionally flicking the sword tip away with a finger during a break, casually remarking, "So slow."

"... yes!"

"How about we take a break?"

"Drink!"

Yanqing's sword strike was aimed straight at his chest. He had already exhausted all the strength in his lungs, and the sword light suddenly surged. However, Jingxing did not retreat. Just as the tip of the sword was about to touch the fabric, he slightly tilted his body, and with his right hand, he reached up from below and flicked the numb tendons in Yanqing's stiff forearm with a very light touch.

A trembling sound rang out.

The sword spun out and landed diagonally in the base of the weapon rack.

Yanqing couldn't stop her forward momentum and fell forward, but Jingxing grabbed her by the back of her collar and pulled her back.

"That's enough." Jingxing released his grip, kicking off the bloodstains on the soles of his boots. "That's enough."

The boy, one hand on his knee, his chest heaving, a wheezing sound coming from his throat, still stared intently at the sword nailed to the pillar. "I can still..."

"Give me another incense stick's time, and by tomorrow morning you won't even be able to hold chopsticks." Jingxing casually pulled the long sword from the wooden pillar and tossed it to him.

Yanqing hurriedly caught the sword.

He was stunned for a moment as he touched the cold, hard bronze, before belatedly lowering his head to sheath his sword. His hand trembled violently, and the tip of the sword bumped against the scabbard several times before finally sliding in.

The boy lowered his head, sweat dripping from his hair onto the sword guard. "Mr. Xie."

Jingxing raised an eyebrow at him, a faint smile playing on his lips, "Go apply the medicine quickly."

When we returned to the waterside pavilion, the sun had already set, leaving only a dark ochre glow.

Jing Yuan remained sprawled on the soft couch in the same position he had in the afternoon, the tea on the table long since cooled. Two plates of pastries sat in the middle, one of the Thousand Stars City pastries missing a corner, while the other of the Luofu osmanthus cake remained untouched.

Seeing two figures, one tall and one short, sway in, Jing Yuan raised his eyelids, his gaze sweeping over Yanqing's bloodied palm and Jingxing's clean trench coat. He chuckled and said, "Looks like the bluestone slabs of the Martial Arts Arena suffered a great deal today."

Yanqing stood to the side with her hands at her sides, her cheeks flushed, biting her lip and remaining silent.

"You didn't lose unjustly." Jing Yuan waved his hand at him. "Go to the Seat of Divine Foresight and find the physician to clean those hands. I'll reschedule your patrol shift for the day after tomorrow."

"... General Xie."

Yanqing bowed respectfully. Before turning away, the young man couldn't help but glance quickly at Jingxing: "Sir, tomorrow..."

Jingxing pulled out a chair and sat down, casually grabbing a piece of crispy pastry from Thousand Stars City and popping it into his mouth. "You should practice a little longer."

Yanqing lowered his head, responded, and limped but quickly retreated from the waterside pavilion.

The footsteps outside the corridor gradually faded away.

Jing Yuan slowly poured the cooled tea into the teapot, then added hot water, the rising steam obscuring his expression. "This kid has a fiery temper. Aren't you afraid of really crippling his wrist?"

"Too much talent, too smooth a path, and an arrogance that's practically inflated to the core." Jingxing patted the crumbs off his palm, leaned back in his chair, and said casually, "Besides, isn't this exactly what General Jing Yuan wanted me to do?"

"Yes." Jing Yuan poured a cup of hot tea and pushed it towards him, a smile playing on his lips, but the casual look in his eyes faded. "Alright, enough of the small talk. Let's get down to business—what exactly is the purpose of your trip to Luofu?"

"I miss my wife," Jingxing answered quickly, without even blinking.

Jing Yuan had just picked up his teacup when he heard this, he paused, and shook his head with a wry smile, "Mr. Jingxing, Fu Qing is calculating day and night in the Divination Commission, isn't it a bit too early for you to call him that?"

"That's just how it is." Jingxing took a sip of tea.

"I'm not entirely convinced." Jing Yuan tapped his teacup on the table, producing a crisp, light sound. "After landing in Luofu, Mr. Jingxing kept prying into the secrets of the Earth-Balance Commission from Fu Qing's ear, and also casually inquired about the Palace of Astrum's troop deployment records over the past two months. If he was simply here to see her, why would he be so tense?"

Jingxing held the tea but didn't drink it; he simply looked down at the tea leaves swirling on the surface of the water.

The pavilion fell silent for a moment. A breeze blew from the lake, carrying a chilly, damp mist.

"Because of your background, someone in the higher-ups of the Xianzhou is keeping an eye on her," Jing Yuan added calmly. "The Marshal inquired about it last month, asking if that shrewd Diviner from Luofu had been getting too close to interstellar powers lately."

Jingxing narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you hinting at something?"

"If you two come together, it will also be a challenge to the laws of the Xianzhou." Jing Yuan looked at him. "Besides, if someone wants to make a move against Luofu, they might not dare to bite into the Cloud Knights first, but the Divination Commission... has always been an excellent entry point. I think you feel the same way, right?"

Jingxing fell silent.

The image of that short, hot-tempered figure flashed through my mind. He was usually imposing and authoritative when reprimanding the diviners, but at night, he would be alone in the Ministry of Justice calculating the celestial calendar, yet he would grit his teeth and rub his temples in frustration over a single miscalculation.

He gave a self-deprecating smile, "I really have no idea what exactly Luofu will get into trouble with."

"But you definitely smelled something." Jing Yuan stared into his eyes.

"There was this high-ranking guy who only said one thing to me a while ago," Jingxing paused, his tone becoming more serious, "He told me not to go to Luofu. He said it would be very dangerous there."

"But how could I not come when I knew there was danger?"