Chapter 44

After returning from the hunting grounds, Tang Wulin stayed cooped up in the forging room. He was not hammering metal, but drawing. On the design draft, folded and unfolded countless times, was a three-view sketch of a short blade—blade length, hilt width, guard curvature, center of balance—every detail marked with densely packed measurements. He was designing an off-hand short blade to go with Xie Xie's fourth Light Dragon Dagger.

"Xie Xie's Light Dragon Daggers are dual-wielded, but he said during the last practical combat class that the weight balance of his left-hand off-hand blade didn't match the right, affecting the rhythm of his third soul skill combo." Tang Wulin tucked his pencil behind his ear and spoke to Gu Yue, who sat beside the maintenance bench without looking up. "I measured the difference in grip strength between his hands. The bones in his right fingers are less than half an inch longer than those in his left, but the angles at which his knuckles exert force are different. So the off-hand blade's guard needs to curve slightly farther outward."

Gu Yue flipped through an old book in her hands and merely hummed in response. Yet she set the book down, rose, and walked over to the forging bench. Lowering her head, she studied the design draft. "If the guard curvature shifts, should its wind-blade grooves change as well? If the off-hand short blade also has double-sided wind-blade grooves, the airflow from throwing the daggers in each hand won't be symmetrical."

Tang Wulin's pencil stopped. He looked up at Gu Yue, his eyes lighting up. "Right—being asymmetrical would actually make it faster. When Xie Xie swings upward from the lower right with his left hand, the airflow naturally shifts. If the off-hand wind-blade grooves mirrored the main hand, they'd create turbulence instead. I'll deepen the groove on the left and make the one on the right shallower."

Gu Yue picked up the cold soy milk beside her and took a sip, then retrieved her old book and returned to the bench. She said nothing more, but her gaze rested on the page for several beats before she turned it—Tang Wulin knew she was considering positioning from practical combat class, and he also knew that question had not been casual. Gu Yue understood Xie Xie's fighting habits almost as well as he did, because every time Xie Xie failed to circle behind someone and got counterattacked, Gu Yue used Water-Mirror Reflection to seal off his retreat.

The forge burned until late into the night. When Tang Wulin finished hammering out the rough blank, the crooked Little White Tiger on the thumb of his glove gleamed in the firelight. He held the blank beneath the lamp to inspect the symmetry of its edge, remembering how Sister Lu had stuffed this pair of gloves into his hands and said, "There was a burn hole in your old gloves last time"—that had been nearly two months ago. She always noticed the problems he would eventually notice before he did.

He set down the rough blank, picked up a small file from the corner of the forging bench, and carved an even uglier, more crooked Little White Tiger into the handle. Then he wrapped an extremely fine silver line around the tiger's tail. The small knife was meant for repairing the guard around Gu Yue's Ice Spear tip. Last time, the clasp on her guard had loosened by half a turn. She had not mentioned it, but he had noticed.

Lunch beneath the ginkgo tree still consisted of four people.

As usual, Lu Menge had made four dishes and a soup—today's main dishes were garlic ribs and stir-fried vegetables, along with a plate of hot-and-sour shredded potatoes Xie Xie had failed to order from the cafeteria last week. Wu Changkong sat beside her. He had already finished eating, his bowl and chopsticks neatly placed beside the lunch box, while he reviewed the afternoon's training plan. Tang Wulin and Gu Yue sat facing one another, their bowls nearly empty, yet they were still competing over the last rib.

"This is the last garlic rib today." Tang Wulin picked it up and held it between them. "Based on performance in practical combat class—you completely blocked the rebound impact from my Golden Dragon Skybreak with your Water Mirror, so this one goes to you." He steadily placed the rib into Gu Yue's bowl.

Gu Yue looked down at the extra rib in her bowl, then raised her eyes to Tang Wulin's rice, which contained nothing but broth. She did not return the rib. Instead, she picked up a piece of braised pork she had hidden earlier from her own bowl and placed it in his.

"Last week, you stayed up several nights in a row in the forging room repairing Xie Xie's daggers. Your stamina hasn't fully recovered yet. This braised pork goes to you."

After watching the entire exchange with her thermos in hand, Lu Menge turned to Wu Changkong and lowered her voice—though it was still just loud enough for the two across from her to hear. "Look, their coordination at the dinner table is better than certain combinations in practical combat class."

Xie Xie's voice drifted over from a distant bench, full of wounded grievance. "Teacher Lu—I can get called out even when I'm just eating in the back?"

"Then come over, and I'll review why your third attempt to circle behind someone failed during practical combat class." Without turning her head, Lu Menge set her thermos on her knee. Her tone switched instantly from teasing to gentle menace. "When you circled behind, your left-hand dagger didn't seal the position in sync. Gu Yue reflected it with Water-Mirror Reflection, and you didn't even notice."

Xie Xie immediately shrank back, forgetting even to chew the rice in his mouth. Zhang Yangzi patted him on the shoulder, his tone carrying the sympathy of someone who had been through it. "You'll always lose if you go up against her. She can even break down Teacher Wu's sword techniques. What is one dagger to her? Next time, before you circle behind someone, first check whether Gu Yue's Water Mirror is pointed right at your own face."

Wu Changkong did not join the conversation. He turned to the next page of the training plan and said flatly, "This afternoon in practical combat class, Xie Xie, come work on the fundamentals of left-hand position sealing. Teacher Lu said the root of your last mistake was the angle at which you held your dagger in your left hand."

Xie Xie buried his head in his lunch box and let out his third wail of the day. Zhang Yangzi lightly tapped his head with a tactical manual. "Get used to it. Teacher Lu singled out your left-hand position sealing, which means she's watching you—if she stops watching you, that means you're beyond saving."

Gu Yue had not gone to Lu Menge alone to act spoiled in quite some time.

Ever since Lu Menge had exposed her on the spot in the back mountain last time—"You like Tang Wulin"—Gu Yue had rarely approached her in that clingy way. It was not because she did not want to. She just found it a little embarrassing—Sister Lu had pried open her feelings with a single chicken wing, leaving her no room to struggle from beginning to end. But tonight, she pushed open the teachers' dormitory door, set a jar of freshly mixed honey water on the coffee table, then climbed cross-legged onto Lu Menge's bed and rested her head on her shoulder.

Lu Menge was curled up in a wicker chair, reviewing next week's training plan. Gu Yue's sudden lean nearly made the pen in her hand stab into the paper. She looked down at that head of black hair—there was an extremely faint silver gleam at its crown. Gu Yue had just showered, and the shampoo was the brand Lu Menge had bought for herself.

"What's wrong? Did you and Wulin have a fight?"

"No." Gu Yue's voice was muffled, her face buried in the hollow of Lu Menge's shoulder. "I just want grilled skewers."

"We just had them last week."

"Last week was last week."

Lu Menge set aside the training plan and raised a hand to rub Gu Yue's head. As her fingers passed through the black hair, several silver strands glimmered faintly beneath the light. She did not expose her—Gu Yue would never come over and cling to her just because she wanted grilled skewers. She was only looking for an excuse, an excuse to stop holding herself like the Silver Dragon King, to stop considering the mission of the Dragon God bloodline, to stop calculating the ratios of coordination in practical combat class. An excuse to simply be someone whose hair could be rubbed by her sister, who could feel at ease just by smelling the scent of tea and charcoal fire on a white coat. She did not move away from Lu Menge's shoulder. Instead, she let all her weight rest against her.

Lu Menge did not expose her. She simply continued rubbing her hair, her voice soft and gentle, like she was coaxing a little silver dragon that had finally agreed to show its belly. "All right. I'll grill some for you this weekend. Is the honey water freshly mixed?"

"Mm. I didn't add as much sugar this time."

Lu Menge picked up the jar of honey water from the coffee table and took a sip. The sweetness was just right. Looking at Gu Yue's profile as she leaned against her shoulder, Lu Menge suddenly remembered a long time ago, beneath that crooked ancient tree in the Star Dou Great Forest, when this child had stood before her and coldly declared, "I'm not going to the human world." Now she had come running over because of a lousy excuse like "I want grilled skewers," leaning against her shoulder. Lu Menge knew Gu Yue did not truly want grilled skewers, and Gu Yue knew she knew. Yet this jar of honey water, this weight resting against her shoulder, made Lu Menge feel more than any grand principle about the Dragon God bloodline ever could—that the Silver Dragon King who had awakened alone, curled up in the Stone Palace of the Star Dou Great Forest, had finally found a place where she could let down all her guard.

That weekend, in the back mountain, the charcoal fire burned again, stronger than before. Little White Tiger crouched on a tree branch as lookout, its tail hanging down and swinging like a swing. Lu Menge sat cross-legged on a rock. The grill held more chicken wings and lamb skewers than usual. Gu Yue sat cross-legged beside her, the tactical notebook that was already more than half filled spread across her knees, while she gnawed on two lamb skewers. Tang Wulin sat opposite them, using a dagger to shave a bamboo skewer. He said he was making Gu Yue a new hairpin—last time, she had lingered over the hairpins at a silver jewelry stall on the snack street, and he had remembered.

This time, Xie Xie was finally not shut out. He sat at the edge of the charcoal fire, holding up the chicken wing Lu Menge had just handed him, so moved that he nearly cried. "Teacher Lu, I finally get to join the table—is it because you finally praised my left-hand position sealing by half a sentence in practical combat class today?"

"Half a sentence. The other half can wait until you stop getting reflected by Water Mirror next time." Lu Menge did not look at him as she handed the cumin shaker to Zhang Yangzi beside her.

Zhang Yangzi accepted the cumin shaker with surprisingly practiced hands—his family ran a barbecue restaurant, and after Lu Menge learned that secret, he was dragged in as free labor every time they grilled skewers. Wang Jinxi crouched on the other side of the grill, using Bone Dragon Shield Armor to block the wind. He said the shield armor covered a large area and blocked wind better than tent cloth. Xie Xie mocked him for "turning a defensive martial soul into picnic equipment," but no one laughed at him, because he really did block the wind steadily.

Wu Changkong still sat farthest from the charcoal fire, though he was a few steps closer than last time. A training record board rested on his lap, but his pen was not writing. One hand merely hovered loosely over his knee. Lu Menge handed him a perfectly grilled lamb skewer. He accepted it, took a bite, then gave her a slight nod. She had deliberately used less chili powder. She remembered him saying last week that he could accept mildly spicy food, but not being so overwhelmed by spice that he guzzled water like Xie Xie.

A ginkgo leaf drifted down from the branches and landed on Wu Changkong's training record board. He gently brushed it away without closing the book.

"Wulin snapped the bamboo skewer twice just now." Gu Yue set aside the skewer she had finished and stared expressionlessly at the third crooked bamboo-skewer hairpin in Tang Wulin's hand. "It's uglier than the first time you forged metal. But hairpins can't be forged—you're worse at this than he was with those heat-resistant gloves." Tang Wulin did not lift his head and continued shaving the bamboo skewer, but his ears glowed red in the charcoal light.

While gnawing on his chicken wing, Xie Xie's gaze bounced repeatedly between Tang Wulin and Gu Yue. At last, he lowered his voice and told Zhang Yangzi, "I used to only know that those two worked well together. Now I know they coordinate even when they aren't speaking. Look at Gu Yue—she says it's ugly, but she's picking up the broken bamboo fragments so they won't stab him." Zhang Yangzi placed a grilled potato slice into his bowl, his tone as calm as ever. "That's why I said your daggers will get eaten sooner or later." Xie Xie set his chicken bone aside and buried his face in his hands.

Lu Menge looked at the bamboo splinters all over the ground, the charcoal fire burning crookedly behind Bone Dragon Shield Armor, the sauce staining Zhang Yangzi's sleeve as he grilled meat, Xie Xie's miserable state as he coughed from the chili yet could not resist taking another bite. She lifted her thermos and leaned against Wu Changkong's shoulder. Lightly—just shoulder against shoulder. Wu Changkong did not move or avoid her. Even his breathing rhythm did not change. But he switched the training record board to his other hand and subtly braced the arm on her side farther back. It was not rejection. It was to let her lean more steadily. This time, she did not hide. He caught her.

The charcoal crackled, sparks flying up before falling back down. Gu Yue leaned against Lu Menge's other shoulder. Tang Wulin had finally shaved a hairpin that was barely presentable and was awkwardly holding it up against Gu Yue's hair. Xie Xie held a chicken wing as he discussed the golden ratio of honey and cumin with Zhang Yangzi. Wang Jinxi's Bone Dragon Shield Armor glowed with a warm white sheen in the firelight. Little White Tiger jumped down from the tree branch, wound around everyone's feet, and finally curled into a ball beside the warmest rock nearest the charcoal fire.

Looking down at the scene, Lu Menge suddenly felt that after living for so long, this was all she had been waiting for. The sense of belonging she wanted most was not the revival of soul beasts, nor the return of the Dragon God—when she had fought alongside her old friend, the Dragon God, all they had wanted was for his descendants to live well. To be able to eat grilled skewers by a charcoal fire as they did tonight, shave bamboo skewers, bicker, gnaw chicken wings, and lean on someone's shoulder without saying a word. She had seen for him the victory the Dragon God had never lived to see.