Me Fight Yunli? Seriously?

Yunli shook her head and started walking again, her voice betraying no inflection. "What do you need a curio for?"

"To pay off a debt," Jingxing replied. "I owe a genius a debt, and she told me to pay her back with a curio or hand over thirty billion Credits. I know the things Zhuming's craftsmen make are well regarded throughout the galaxy, so I thought perhaps I could find one here..."

"Thirty billion Credits..." Yunli drew out the words, then turned her head halfway toward him. "What kind of problem made you go to such an unreasonable genius for help rather than come to us on Zhuming?"

Jingxing pointed at his eyes with a wry smile. "It's a problem with my eyes. I know the Xianzhou's medical technology is highly advanced, but I don't think it can treat my condition."

"Huh?" Yunli's eyes widened. "I admit the geniuses in the Genius Society are impressive, but are you looking down on the Xianzhou's medical skills? Zhuming's medicine is the best in the entire Alliance, you know."

"I wouldn't dare look down on it." Jingxing shook his head. "It's just that someone advised me to seek a genius's help at the time. I didn't expect it to cost thirty billion Credits either."

Yunli curled her lip. "That's what you get for not trusting us. You deserve to owe that much. Just think how many Qiongshi Bird Skewers I could buy with that money."

Huaiyan's general's residence looked a little older than Jingxing remembered.

Its walls were white, its roof tiles dark, and bronze bells hung from the corners of the eaves. Several old pines grew crookedly in the courtyard. Jingxing followed Yunli through the covered corridor and found Huaiyan outside the main hall. The Xianzhou's oldest general sat beneath the eaves like an ordinary old man, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he tapped a piece of ore in front of him, as if striking a wooden fish.

"Grandpa." Yunli bowed. "I've brought him."

Huaiyan looked up.

Jingxing met his gaze and instinctively straightened. The Xianzhou general was somewhat stout, with completely white hair and old scars on his arms from flying sparks. He looked like a blacksmith—well, that was indeed his other profession.

But through his lenses, Jingxing saw a layer of immensely gentle Imaginary Energy surrounding the old man, like a gentle furnace.

"Jingxing, it's been a while since I last saw you." Huaiyan put down his small hammer and beckoned him over. "Come sit. Kamar emailed me on the first day of your journey, though he didn't make it clear what you were coming for."

Jingxing stepped forward and sat opposite the old man, then presented Kamar's letter with both hands.

Huaiyan took it, broke the seal, and glanced through it. He broke into a grin.

"That old fellow hasn't written to me in years, and when he finally does, it's to ask a favor for his student." Huaiyan folded the letter and tucked it into his sleeve, then looked at Jingxing. "I hung that splashed-ink landscape Yunli coaxed out of you in the inner hall. I showed it to Yaoguang, Jing Yuan, and the others before, and they were green with envy. Too bad for them, I refused to tell them who painted it. So, tell me, what do you want the Furnace Palace to make?"

Jingxing didn't answer immediately. After considering his words, he said, "General, besides the matter with the Furnace Palace, I have some questions about Paths that I'd like to ask you."

Huaiyan glanced at him. "I see. You've stepped onto a Path."

Although Huaiyan had faintly sensed fluctuations coming from Jingxing after he sat down, they had been so weak that he had misjudged the situation.

"Yes." Jingxing nodded. "I ran into some trouble while traveling for inspiration, and I was fortunate enough to step onto a Path."

Leaning against a corridor pillar, Yunli raised an eyebrow at that, a trace of interest entering her gaze as she looked at Jingxing.

"Don't tell me which Path it is." Huaiyan picked up his teacup and took a sip, his tone casual. "Does your teacher know about this?"

"He does. Of course I wouldn't keep it from him."

"Then you want... Of course. Kamar used to dream of becoming a Pathstrider, but he never got his wish. Now that you've stepped onto a Path, he doesn't know how to teach you." Huaiyan looked thoughtful. "Go on, then. What are your questions?"

Jingxing gathered his thoughts. "How does a Pathstrider become stronger? And how do you judge a Pathstrider's strength?"

Huaiyan set down his teacup and began explaining patiently.

"You don't train a Path into existence. You walk it," he said. "Every time you do something that puts your Path into practice, the road grows a little wider. Whether you're painting or saving people, as long as it comes from the heart and aligns with your Path, it all adds to your foundation. Once that foundation is strong enough, more Imaginary Energy will answer your call."

Huaiyan paused. "As for becoming an Emanator, that takes an Aeon's favor. A glance isn't enough; the Aeon has to be willing to entrust Their power to you. But that may be too far off for you."

Jingxing said nothing.

An Aeon's favor? He had received it before he reincarnated. Some time ago, Idrila had cast her gaze on him again across countless worlds. Yet the Imaginary Energy he could control was only enough to heal one of Robin's wounds before he exhausted himself.

An Emanator? His eyes would tear up if he looked at the golden light surrounding Robin for more than a few moments, and he didn't know the first thing about fighting.

He didn't say a word of this aloud, merely asking another question. "Does someone who's been glanced at by an Aeon necessarily become very strong?"

"A glance is only a ticket to entry." Huaiyan, an Emanator of The Hunt, was direct. "I've also met people who took their Paths to the utmost without ever receiving a glance. In the end, a road is made by the person walking it."

As he spoke, he looked Jingxing up and down, then suddenly said, "That physique of yours—"

The old man didn't finish, only shaking his head. His meaning couldn't have been clearer.

Jingxing gave an awkward laugh. "...Sorry to make a fool of myself in front of you, General."

"You can't travel the universe without being able to handle yourself," Huaiyan said. "You need to be able to fight at least a little."

He set down his teacup and tipped his chin toward the corridor pillar. "Yunli. Take him to the training ground and see what he can do."

Yunli answered at once. "Leave it to me."

She straightened and smiled at Jingxing. Her smile was bright, but Jingxing couldn't shake the feeling that she was like a sword waiting to be drawn, measuring where to strike his head.

"Come on, great painter." Yunli turned and headed outside, the sword on her back swaying gently with her steps and making a soft, rhythmic sound. "Let's get one thing straight: I won't go easy on you at the training ground just because you painted a picture for me."

"Of course, don't be nervous either. If you get hurt, I'll cover your medical bills. And if you happen to win, I'll forge the curio you want for free."

Yunli stopped and looked at Jingxing with a grin. "Well? Either way, you won't lose out, right?"

Jingxing swallowed and followed her.

He looked back once. Huaiyan had already closed his eyes and picked up his little hammer again, tapping away at the ore.

Jingxing felt like he was about to get beaten up.