"No."
"..."
Pei Ye drew his foot back and gave a polite smile.
Everyone had come to recognize him during the sword trials, and spontaneous laughter rose across the field, where the atmosphere had already relaxed.
"The young man behind you," Sui Zaihua said.
Pei Ye stepped aside, revealing Yang Yan's face behind him, still laughing heartily at him.
Now it froze.
The two fellows' movements were practically identical. The young man pointed at himself, bewildered to the point of blankness, as he stood up. "M-me? My lord?"
Sui Zaihua smiled and nodded. "Yes. Would you come up and give it a try?"
Yang Yan was somewhat at a loss. "I-I practice the saber, my lord."
Sui Zaihua nodded. "You've handled a sword before, haven't you?"
"..." He certainly had.
The old man smiled casually. "It's only a little diversion. If you don't want to go to the Sword Cultivation Academy, no one can force you. There's no harm in coming up to try."
Yang Yan still looked a little dazed. "All right, my lord."
Pei Ye made room for him. Yang Yan strode out onto the field, awkwardly saluted in all four directions, then copied what he remembered seeing and placed his hand on the mirror's frame.
His gaze settled on it.
Then the substance of the mirror began flowing once more, soon becoming a dense, muddy yellow.
The spectators drew back their craning necks.
Seeing this lord single him out personally had filled everyone with anticipation. They had hoped to see that beautiful, translucent sight again, but unexpectedly, this too was merely yellow mud.
What followed, however, proved Lord Sui's discerning eye. Before that muddy yellow, the black substance appeared, for the first time, unable to advance an inch. It crawled laboriously, almost motionless. Sometimes, with a flicker