Those mild words, those ordinary few characters, filled Zhang Xiaohua with warmth. It was merely a normal bit of concern, yet as the ancients said, "Do not fear failing to recognize fine goods; fear only comparing goods against goods." Compared with the grievances Zhang Xiaohua had suffered among the blue-clothed, black-capped servants before, the little everyday kindnesses He Tianshu and the others showed him were as different as clouds and mud. No wonder Zhang Xiaohua felt grateful.
After reminding Zhang Xiaohua, He Tianshu and the others hurried off. The daily tending of the medicinal fields was easy enough to handle; in truth, it did not matter much whether Zhang Xiaohua was there or not. But those seeds that had never sprouted remained a mountain pressing upon He Tianshu's heart. Until they were removed, he could not know peace for a single day.
Watching them leave, Zhang Xiaohua hurried back to his room as well. Though the food inside was simple, he still ate it with relish. Then he immediately went out to be his own monk and strike his own bell.
During the midday break, Zhang Xiaohua stayed in his room with a tree branch in hand, carefully recreating the feeling he had found that morning. Sure enough, once his speed reached a certain neither-fast-nor-slow rhythm, the warm current immediately appeared. Zhang Xiaohua came to an understanding. Though he still did not know why that warm current appeared, one point was certain: this Sword Move Variation had to be performed at that speed for the best result.
With that realization, Zhang Xiaohua repeatedly performed the Sword Move Variation at that speed, and the warm current continued to appear. Only then did he discover that from the moment he began the variation, the warm current emerged from somewhere in his left