But... this was only a flash of inspiration that had casually crossed her mind last night.
Inspiration was not necessarily correct, of course. It had undergone neither consideration nor verification; she had mentioned it to no one else, and the girl herself had not even thought it over a second time. Perhaps tomorrow she would discover its flaws.
But the answer "the dividing line between sword moves," at least, could certainly not be wrong.
The girl hesitated, looking around almost unconsciously.
And so, the instant she turned her head, she froze, her eyes suddenly lighting up.
The gray-clad boy carrying a sword had dressed in haste, his clothes disheveled, his face gloomy, his hair a mess. Not only had he not washed, he had barely even tied his shoes properly. He stood beneath the shade of a tree in the corner of the Martial Field, watching her nervously.
The sight of him suddenly opened up the girl's spirits. Her lips curled before she knew it, and before she had decided what to say, her mouth was already about to open. But the next moment, the boy turned his head in panic, averting his gaze as though scalded.
The girl froze briefly. Both her smile and her words stiffened, and her eyes lowered. Though she had prepared herself for this, his evasion still sent another pang through her heart. At the same time, she remembered that she had not yet discussed her discovery about the mundane and the spiritual with him. He did not know what difficulty she was facing now.
Pei Ye's body went rigid and taut. No matter how many times he had reflected and steeled his resolve outside the field, the moment he met the girl's vulnerable, delighted gaze, that cowardly urge to evade her could seize control