Back at the Sword Palace, Li Hao walked with an upright posture, shoulders squared, and an expression of calm indifference, as if nothing in the world could shake him.
He made his way to the Mission Pavilion, which was just as crowded as when he had left, as if no one had moved in the slightest. Stepping inside, he approached the reception desk, where a senior disciple stood behind the counter.
"How are you, Junior Brother?" the senior disciple greeted him with a polite nod. "How can I assist you today?"
"I'm here to collect the rewards for completing the mission from yesterday—the leoner hunt," Li Hao replied.
"Understood. Please provide proof—the head of the demon beast," the senior disciple requested.
Without a word, Li Hao retrieved a massive, bloodied head from his storage ring and placed it on the counter with a dull thud. The sheer size of it—twice as large as an average person's head—made those nearby glance over in surprise.
The senior disciple examined the severed head closely before his brows furrowed slightly. "This is indeed the leoner, but it seems..."
Before he could finish, Li Hao casually raised a hand, gesturing for silence. Catching the unspoken warning, the senior disciple hesitated, then lowered his voice.
"Junior Brother, you do realize this is the head of an upper-rank demon? How did you come by it?" he asked cautiously.
Li Hao met his gaze, unfazed. "I found it dead. Someone else killed it and took the core. I just took the head and brought it back."
The senior disciple nodded in understanding. "That makes sense. Since you weren't the one who killed it, I should deduct some points from the reward." He sighed in relief, thankful that Li Hao hadn't recklessly put himself in danger.
However, after a brief pause, he reconsidered. "But given that its cultivation was higher than expected and you identified the situation before any harm came to others, I won't deduct your points."
"Thank you, Senior Brother." With that, Li Hao turned and left the Mission Pavilion.
He made his way back to his master's courtyard, where he found her practicing swordsmanship in the training field.
Xing Xing's movements were fluid yet sharp, her sword slicing through the air with precise grace. Every motion was like an elegant dance, controlled yet effortless.
Li Hao stood to the side, watching in admiration. When she finished her routine, he couldn't help but clap.
"Master, that was incredible! What sword technique was that?" he asked curiously.
Xing Xing sheathed her sword and glanced at him. "That is the technique I practice," she said, shaking her head slightly. "But it wouldn't suit your style. This technique requires mastery of gentle swordplay and exceptional reflexes."
She studied him for a moment before adding, "Since you've seen mine, let me see yours. Show me how much you've improved."
"Alright, Master," Li Hao said, picking up a wooden sword.
Stepping into the center of the training ground, he began performing a sword dance. His movements were not yet refined, at times fluid and at other times rigid. He was at the small success level, but far from mastery.
Xing Xing frowned. "Stop, stop, stop! You're doing it all wrong," she scolded, walking up to him. "Watch closely."
She moved gracefully into position and demonstrated the technique again. Her sword carved through the air with seamless precision, the flow unbroken like a river winding through the mountains.
As she finished, she turned to him. "Now that you've seen it again, try once more."
Li Hao nodded and repeated the sword dance. This time, his movements were noticeably smoother, the rigidity beginning to fade. Just as he thought she might praise his quick improvement, she did the opposite.
She stepped closer, placing one hand on his waist and the other on his arm. "Little disciple, your form is still not perfect," she said with a teasing smirk. "Perform the sword dance again. This time, I'll guide you."
Li Hao felt her arm on his waist, and his face flushed red. His lips pressed together tightly, as if afraid to let a single breath escape.
Under her careful guidance, his form improved with each passing moment. He followed her corrections perfectly, fixing the flaws in his technique.
As Li Hao performed the sword dance, she adjusted his hands and waist to refine his posture, smoothing out his mistakes with precise movements.
When she deemed his skills adequate, she quietly let go. Li Hao instinctively exhaled a breath of relief.
"Disciple, continue your practice. I'm going out for some fresh air," Xing Xing said, turning toward the courtyard gate.
Li Hao watched her departing figure, an unfamiliar tightness forming in his chest—an aching sense of loss.
If I miss this chance, I might not get another one for months…
Gritting his teeth, he steeled his resolve. It's now or never.
"Master!" he called. In a flash, he moved at blinding speed, appearing in front of her before she could take another step.
Xing Xing raised a brow. "Mm? What is it?"
Li Hao hesitated, scratching the back of his head. He gazed at her—the way her violet eyes shimmered like an endless starry sky, how her silver-white hair cascaded like the northern frost, the soft yet firm contours of her face. She was breathtaking, a celestial beauty wrapped in pristine white robes.
"Master, I heard there's a Festival in the city… There is going to be a lot of fun," he said, his eyes shifting around nervously.
Xing Xing blinked, unimpressed. "And?"
"I was wondering if… you'd accompany me." His voice dropped slightly before he gathered his courage and finished, "Like on a… date."
The moment he said it, he lowered his head, not daring to meet her gaze.
Xing Xing's body stiffened. A deep blush crept across her cheeks.
A date?
With all her battle-hardened experience, this was something she had never faced before.
Am I really that beautiful that even my own disciple wants me?
Her thoughts drifted to the past—to the girl she once was before becoming a disciple herself. Back then, she had been strikingly beautiful, a rare gem that many admired… but not all admiration was kind. Malicious gazes followed her, and to protect herself, she had built walls—walls that no one had been allowed to cross.
When she awakened her Starlight Physique, surpassing even the Holy Son of her sect, admiration turned to resentment. As her reputation and cultivation soared, she distanced herself even further from others.
But now, standing before her, her own disciple had taken the bold step to ask her out. The sincerity in his voice, the nervousness in his stance—her heart trembled.
She lifted her gaze, truly observing him. His multi-colored Dao eyes gleamed with celestial profundity, reflecting the boundless void of the cosmos.
His hair, like her own, was pure white—untainted, resembling the snowy peaks of a sacred mountain. His stature carried the natural grace of a warrior.
Xing Xing's lips trembled slightly before she forced herself to regain composure.
"I will accompany you on this journey of yours," she finally said, voice softer than she intended. "I'll see you at dusk."
Then, as if fleeing battle, she turned and left—her steps unusually fast, leaving no room for second thoughts.