How could the wooden-sword art she had secretly created herself be the Death Sutra? Shangguan Ru couldn't make sense of it, but she knew the Dragon King wouldn't lie about something like this.
The resonant morning bell rang through the Four Truths Blue Lotus, its sound seeming both near and far. Shangguan Ru suddenly came to her senses and gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Master. I was distracted."
Day had broken, but last night's events remained vivid in Shangguan Ru's mind—especially He Nu's frank, strange expression before she left, and the Dragon King's furious questioning. She had never seen that expression on the Dragon King's face, not even when the hostility between them had been at its fiercest.
Fa Chong was always serious, and now was no exception. He looked at Shangguan Ru and gave a long, thoughtful hum. "You weren't distracted. You were thinking about what you ought to be thinking about."
Shangguan Ru shook her head. "But I can't make sense of it."
"Trade a few moves with Lian Qing. Let me see the sword art you created."
Lian Qing, sitting off to one side, jumped to his feet. He had heard Shangguan Ru explain the situation and was just as confused as she was, though a little more curious. A martial art was what it was. How could its creator have one understanding of it while an observer saw something else?
It was truly a strange business. Lian Qing was eager to uncover the truth—more eager than Shangguan Ru herself.
Shangguan Ru hesitated before getting up. "I don't have a wooden sword."
Lian Qing pushed open the door and went beneath a tree in the courtyard. He respectfully pressed his palms together in salute, then leaped up and broke off a branch of suitable length and thickness.