Sky-Mending Silk

"Sect Master, there's something I'd like to ask you."

Nezha put away the Fire-Tipped Spear, an appropriately puzzled expression appearing on his little face, as though he had been harboring a question he could not work out and had finally been unable to hold it in any longer.

Ning Zhiyuan was in excellent spirits. The more he looked at this child, the more he liked him. His tone was gentle as he replied, "You don't need to call me Sect Master anymore. Just call me Uncle Ning."

Nezha nodded obediently. "Uncle Ning."

He paused, as though weighing his words, then tilted his head and asked with an innocent expression, "Uncle Ning, can a person only have one martial soul? Why do I feel like... I have two?"

The atmosphere in the hall changed instantly.

The smile froze on Ning Zhiyuan's face.

Wu Yun abruptly uncrossed his arms, his long crimson hair stirring without a breeze.

The two little girls, Ning Tian and Wu Feng, exchanged looks. Clearly, they too understood the weight of those words.

Ning Zhiyuan opened his mouth, about to question him further, but Nezha had already raised his other hand.

He was not actually quite sure what his second martial soul was.

On the day of his awakening, he had forcibly suppressed the power in his left hand. He had only had time to sense an aura utterly unlike that of the Fire-Tipped Spear-supple, enduring, and boundless, like an endless expanse of glowing clouds surging within him. He had a vague suspicion, but dared not be certain.

Today was the perfect opportunity to release it and take a look, while also making these two sect heavyweights fully understand that his value as Li Nezha extended far beyond a single Fire-Tipped Spear.

"Uncle Ning, look."

Nezha raised his left hand, palm upward, and willed it forth.

A crimson light seeped out from beneath his skin. This light was softer, brighter, and more vivid, like a length of red silk steeped in the dawn's glow, slowly unfurling across his palm.

The light gradually gathered, forming a soft outline above his palm that grew increasingly distinct.

It was a length of red silk.

Its entire length was crimson as flame, yet possessed a fabric's suppleness that fire lacked. Cloud patterns embroidered in golden thread seemed to flow across its surface. Those patterns resembled dragons yet were not dragons, resembled phoenixes yet were not phoenixes, ancient and profound. As the red silk gently fluttered, the golden patterns flickered in and out of sight, as though alive.

The red silk was roughly a palm wide and no more than three feet long. It hovered quietly above Nezha's palm, its two ends hanging naturally and trembling faintly, like flames stirred by the wind, or a living creature slowly awakening from slumber.

Ning Zhiyuan's pupils contracted.

He stared straight at the hovering red silk, his lips moving twice. It took him a long while to recover his voice.

"Twin martial souls."

He looked at the crimson ribbon above Nezha's left hand, then at Nezha's still somewhat childish face, and felt his mind buzzing.

Innate full soul power, a Fire-Tipped Spear with the ultimate fire attribute, and now this red silk of unknown origin, whose aura was unfathomable.

Just what sort of child had his Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Sect brought home?

Nezha lowered his left hand. The red silk turned into a streak of crimson light and sank into his palm, and the warmth in the hall dissipated with it.

He tilted his face upward, once again wearing that obedient, innocent smile, as though he had just done something utterly insignificant.

"Uncle Ning, this martial soul of mine is called the Sky-Mending Silk. Does that mean I have two martial souls?"

"Yes."

He crouched down, placing both hands on Nezha's shoulders, his gaze more serious than ever before.

"Nezha, remember this. Don't mention what happened today to anyone except the people in this hall. For now, don't reveal your second martial soul in front of outsiders."

Nezha nodded obediently. "All right. I'll listen to you, Uncle Ning."

Ning Zhiyuan reached out and ruffled his hair buns, then rose to his feet, his eyes meeting Wu Yun's once more.

The two old comrades remained silent for a long time, neither able to find words.

Ning Tian stood to one side, thoughtfulness in her large, dark eyes. Wu Feng leaned close to her ear and lowered her voice, muttering something only the two of them could hear:

"Young Mistress, he seems even stronger than me."

Ning Tian turned her head. Seeing Wu Feng's unwilling yet irrefutable expression, she curved her lips slightly. She said nothing, merely patting the back of her hand.

Ning Zhiyuan rose to his feet, shifting his gaze from Nezha to the two little girls, Ning Tian and Wu Feng. His expression had regained the composure befitting a sect master, but the gravity in his eyes was even greater than before.

"Tian, Feng."

His voice was not loud, but it carried unquestionable weight. Both little girls straightened at once and looked up at him.

"You two must remember this as well."

Ning Zhiyuan's gaze swept across their faces in turn as he said, each word distinct, "Once you leave this hall, don't mention what happened today to anyone. You must not breathe a word about Nezha having two martial souls in front of outsiders. Do you understand?"

Ning Tian nodded slightly, her large, dark eyes calm. Clearly, she already understood the gravity of the matter.

She was only six this year, but as the young mistress, she had absorbed what she saw and heard from infancy and understood the sect's hidden undercurrents far better than other children her age. She knew perfectly well what a genius with twin martial souls meant.

Wu Feng also nodded emphatically, her fiery red ponytail swaying with the motion. Her little face was taut, both fists clenched, her solemnity that of someone pledging her life to a military order.

Though straightforward by nature, she was no fool. Anything the sect master took special care to emphasize had to be a matter of immense importance.

"Understood, Dad."

Ning Tian answered in a clear, composed voice.

"Understood, Sect Master."

Wu Feng followed immediately, her voice ringing with a bold assurance that seemed to say, "Leave it to me."

Looking at the two little girls, Ning Zhiyuan's lips curved slightly. He waved a hand, his tone relaxing into an elder's gentleness. "All right, Tian. Take Nezha to get some rest. He's only just arrived at the sect, and there are plenty of places he doesn't know. Show him around and arrange somewhere for him to stay."

"Yes," Ning Tian answered, turning to look at Nezha.

The two six-year-olds met each other's eyes. Ning Tian's expression was calm, but her gaze held a faint trace of appraisal, as though she were getting to know the boy before her all over again.

Nezha returned an obedient smile, his two hair buns making him look particularly harmless to man and beast alike.

"Let's go, Nezha."

As she spoke, Ning Tian was already walking toward the hall doors, her steps unhurried and her single ponytail swaying gently behind her.

Wu Feng sauntered over to walk on Nezha's other side, tilting her head to study him. Her fiery red eyes sparkled with a child's particular mixture of curiosity and defiance as she asked in a hushed voice, "Hey, is that spear of yours really powerful?"

Nezha turned to look at her and smiled, likewise lowering his voice. "It's all right."

"Hmph."

Wu Feng pursed her lips, revealing two little pointed canine teeth. "We'll find out when we have a match."

Walking ahead of them, Ning Tian said softly without looking back, "Feng, behave."

"Understood, Young Mistress-"

Wu Feng drew out her answer and winked at Nezha, clearly meaning, We'll talk later.

The three six-year-old children left the hall, one ahead and two behind, their figures disappearing into the long corridors deep within the Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Sect.

The hall doors slowly closed behind them, sealing away the conversation that could change the sect's destiny.

Ning Zhiyuan stood where he was, hands clasped behind his back, watching that small figure disappear from view.

Wu Yun stood beside him with his arms crossed. Neither spoke, but the heavy burden on their shoulders had eased considerably.

After a long while, Ning Zhiyuan softly exhaled, a trace of relief in his voice:

"Once Nezha grows up, he will surely become our Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Sect's white jade pillar holding up the heavens, its purple-gold beam spanning the seas."