Chapter 44

After returning from the hunting grounds, Tang Wulin had stayed holed up in the forging room. He was not hammering metal, but drawing. On the design sheet that had been folded and unfolded countless times was a three-view drawing of a short blade—blade length, hilt width, guard curvature, center of gravity—every detail densely marked with measurements. He was designing a matching off-hand short blade for Xie Xie's fourth Light Dragon Dagger.

"Xie Xie dual-wields Light Dragon Daggers, but during the last practical combat class, he said the balance of his left-hand off-hand blade didn't match the right-hand one, affecting the rhythm of his Third Soul Skill combo." Tang Wulin tucked his pencil behind his ear and spoke to Gu Yue, who was sitting by the maintenance bench, without looking up. "I measured the difference in his grip strength. The fingers on his right hand are less than half an inch longer than those on his left, but the angle at which his knuckles exert force is different. So the guard on the off-hand blade needs to curve slightly farther outward."

Gu Yue was flipping through an old book and merely hummed in response. But then she set the book down, rose, and walked to the forging table. Lowering her head to study the design sheet, she said, "If the guard curvature shifts, should the wind-blade groove be adjusted too? If the off-hand blade also has double-sided wind-blade grooves, the airflow won't be symmetrical when he throws both daggers."

Tang Wulin's pencil paused. He looked up at Gu Yue, his eyes lighting up. "Right—being asymmetrical would actually make it faster. When Xie Xie's left hand sweeps from the lower right to the upper left, the airflow naturally shifts. If the off-hand wind-blade groove mirrors the main hand's, it'll create a vortex 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 else, but her gaze lingered on the page for several beats before she turned it. Tang Wulin knew she was thinking about positioning during practical combat class, and he knew her question had not been casual. Gu Yue understood Xie Xie's fighting habits nearly as well as he did, because every time Xie Xie failed to circle behind an opponent and got counterattacked, Gu Yue used Water-Mirror Reflection to seal off his retreat.

The forge fire burned deep 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 raised the blank beneath the lamp to inspect the symmetry of its edge, recalling how Sister Lu had stuffed these gloves into his hands and said, "Your old gloves got burned through 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 table, and carved an even uglier, more crooked Little White Tiger into the handle. Then he wound an extremely fine silver line around the tiger's tail. The little tool was for repairing the spearhead guard on Gu Yue's Ice Spear. Last time, the guard clasp 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 prepared 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 that Xie Xie had failed to order at the cafeteria last week. Wu Changkong sat beside her, already finished eating. His bowl and chopsticks were neatly placed beside the lunchbox as he reviewed the afternoon's training plan. Tang Wulin and Gu Yue sat opposite each other, their bowls nearly empty, yet they were still fighting over the last rib.

"This is the last garlic rib today." Tang Wulin picked up the rib and held it midway between them. "Based on our practical combat performance—just now, your Water-Mirror Reflection blocked all the rebound impact from my Golden Dragon Skybreak. So this one is yours." He steadily placed the rib in Gu Yue's bowl.

Gu Yue lowered her head to look at the extra rib in her bowl, then glanced at the rice in Tang Wulin's bowl, which had nothing left but gravy. She did not return the rib. Instead, she picked out a piece of braised pork she had hidden earlier and placed it in his bowl.

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

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

Xie Xie's voice drifted over from the distant bench, filled with the grievance of someone caught in the crossfire. "Teacher Lu—I'm just eating back here, and I still get called out!"

"Then come over here. I'll help you review why your third attempt to circle behind someone failed in practical combat class." Without turning around, Lu Menge set her thermos on her knee, her tone instantly shifting from teasing to gentle menace. "When you circled behind, your left-hand dagger didn't move in sync to seal the angle. Gu Yue's Water-Mirror Reflection bounced you back, and you didn't even realize it."

Xie Xie immediately shrank back, forgetting even to chew the rice in his mouth. Zhang Yangzi patted his shoulder, his tone carrying the sympathy of experience. "You'll always lose if you argue with her. She can even dismantle Teacher Wu's sword techniques. What's one dagger to her? Next time 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 blandly, "This afternoon during practical combat class, Xie Xie, come work on the fundamentals of left-hand 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 lunchbox and let out his third wail of the day. Zhang Yangzi lightly tapped his head with the tactical manual. "Get used to it. Teacher Lu singled out your left-hand sealing, which means she's watching you. If she weren't watching you, that'd mean you were beyond saving."

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

Ever since Lu Menge had exposed her on the back mountain and said, "You like Tang Wulin," Gu Yue had rarely approached her in that clingy way. It was not that 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 door to the teachers' dormitory, set a jar of freshly mixed honey water on the coffee table, then sat cross-legged on Lu Menge's bed and rested her head against her shoulder.

Lu Menge was curled up in a wicker chair, reviewing next week's training plan. When Gu Yue leaned against her, the pen in her hand nearly jabbed through the paper. She looked down at that head of black hair—there was the faintest silver gleam at the crown. Gu Yue had just showered, and the shampoo was the brand Lu Menge had bought for her.

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

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

"You had them last week."

"Last week was last week."

Lu Menge set down the training plan and raised a hand to rub Gu Yue's head. As her fingers passed through the black hair, a few silver strands glimmered faintly beneath the lamplight. She did not expose her—Gu Yue would never come running over to cling to her just because she wanted grilled skewers. She was simply looking for an excuse, an excuse not to maintain the bearing of the Silver Dragon King, not to think about the mission of the Dragon God bloodline, not to calculate the coordination ratio in practical combat class. She only wanted to be someone whose hair her sister could rub, someone who could feel safe just by smelling the tea scent and charcoal scent on a white coat. Gu Yue 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 kept stroking her hair, her voice soft and gentle, as though coaxing a little silver dragon finally willing to show its belly. "All right. I'll grill some for you this weekend. Is this honey water newly 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 resting against her shoulder, she suddenly recalled that long ago, beneath that crooked ancient tree in the Star Dou Great Forest, this child had stood before her and coldly declared, "I'm not going to the human world." Now she had come running over for the ridiculous reason of "wanting grilled skewers," resting against her shoulder. Lu Menge knew Gu Yue did not truly want grilled skewers, and Gu Yue knew that she knew. Yet this jar of honey water, this weight against her shoulder, made Lu Menge feel more strongly than any grand words about the Dragon God bloodline that the Silver Dragon King who had awakened alone, curled up in a stone hall of the Star Dou Great Forest, had finally found a place where she could let down all her guard.

That weekend, on the back mountain, the charcoal fire was lit again, burning even stronger than before. Little White Tiger crouched on a tree branch to keep watch, its dangling tail swinging like a pendulum. Lu Menge sat cross-legged on a rock, and 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 full spread across her knees, while she gnawed on two lamb skewers. Tang Wulin sat opposite them, using a dagger to carve 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. Sitting at the edge of the charcoal fire, he held up the chicken wing Lu Menge had just handed him, so touched that tears nearly fell. "Teacher Lu, I finally get to sit at the table—is it because you finally praised half a sentence of my left-hand sealing in practical combat class today?"

"Half a sentence. You'll get the other half when you stop getting reflected by Water Mirror next time." Lu Menge did not look at him as she handed the cumin jar to Zhang Yangzi beside her.

Zhang Yangzi took the cumin jar with surprisingly practiced ease—his family ran a barbecue restaurant, and once Lu Menge learned that secret, he was dragged over as forced 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 claimed the shield armor covered more 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 Wang Jinxi, because his windbreak was indeed extremely steady.

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 moving. 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 added less chili powder. She remembered him saying last week that he could handle mildly spicy food, but not the sort of heat that made him chug 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 notebook.

"Wulin snapped the bamboo skewer twice just now." Gu Yue set aside the skewer she had finished and looked expressionlessly at the third crooked bamboo-skewer hairpin in Tang Wulin's hand. "It's uglier than your first time forging. But a hairpin can't be forged—you're doing something harder than making those heat-resistant gloves." Tang Wulin did not look up and continued carving the bamboo, but his ears turned bright red in the charcoal glow.

As Xie Xie gnawed on a chicken wing, his eyes darted back and forth between Tang Wulin and Gu Yue several times. At last, he lowered his voice and said to Zhang Yangzi, "I used to think they were just good at coordinating in battle. Now I know they coordinate even when they aren't talking. 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 dagger will get eaten sooner or later." Xie Xie set the chicken wing bone aside and buried his face in his hands.

Lu Menge looked at the bamboo scraps scattered everywhere, the charcoal fire warped by the Bone Dragon Shield Armor, the sauce smeared on Zhang Yangzi's sleeve while grilling, and Xie Xie's miserable state as he coughed from the chili yet could not stop himself from taking another bite. Then she lifted her thermos and leaned against Wu Changkong's shoulder. Very lightly—just shoulder touching shoulder. Wu Changkong neither moved nor avoided her, and even the rhythm of his breathing remained unchanged. But he switched the training record board to his other hand and shifted the arm on her side slightly back to brace himself. 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 carved a barely presentable hairpin and was awkwardly holding it against Gu Yue's hair. Xie Xie held up a chicken wing while discussing the golden ratio of honey to cumin with Zhang Yangzi. Wang Jinxi's Bone Dragon Shield Armor gleamed with a gentle white light in the firelight. Little White Tiger leaped down from the branch, wound between everyone's feet, and finally curled up beside the warmest rock nearest the 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 and her old friend, the Dragon God, had fought side by side, all they had wanted was for his descendants to live well. To eat grilled skewers by a charcoal fire like this, carve bamboo sticks, bicker, gnaw chicken wings, and lean against someone's shoulder without needing to speak. Lu Menge had seen the victory the Dragon God had never lived to see.