Chen Wuya slowly inserted the wooden sword into a crack between the courtyard stones. The motion was gentle, yet the blade stood firm. The newly formed pattern still glimmered faintly, brightening and dimming as though it were breathing. He withdrew his hand, a trace of warm trembling lingering at his fingertips.
Bai Zhi walked over with a damp cloth in hand. Without saying anything, she gently pressed it to the outside of his right arm, where a cut from the blade wind had already clotted into dark red. Her fingers brushed the edge of the wound with utmost care, as if afraid of disturbing something.
"It's still moving," she said.
"Mm." Chen Wuya lowered his gaze to his palm. "When I tried to withdraw my force just now, it drew a trace of it inward instead."
Mo Feng crouched several steps away, packing the remains of the last mechanism crossbow into a cloth bag. He looked up at the sword and suddenly said, "Don't you think it seems more like a person now?"
No one answered.
Chen Xuan ran out from the corner of the house, clutching a freshly carved piece of bamboo marked with several crooked grooves. "Dad, can I put this on the sword hilt? You know, a mechanism that shoots out little needles when you press it."
Chen Wuya looked at him, then turned his gaze to Bai Zhi.
Bai Zhi's hand paused over the cloth, her eyes settling on her son's face. After a moment, she nodded lightly. "You can, but only after you finish practicing tomorrow's footwork."
"Mom!" Chen Yao ran over as well, hugging her concealed-weapon tube to her chest. "I want to add mechanisms too! I want every copper nail to turn corners and hit people!"
Bai Zhi raised a hand and smoothed