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He Lingchuan did not answer her question. Instead, he turned to the old servant woman who had just come in with a basin of hot water and said, “Go get her a hot meal and some hot dishes. Just tell the kitchen that it’s Young Master He who’s asking for it.” With that, he gave A’Jin a brief nod and rose to his feet, leaving the tent.
As soon as he stepped out, the soldiers guarding the area exchanged looks, then one of them sprinted off through the rain toward He Chunhua’s command tent. Once there, he relayed every word of the conversation he had just overheard.
When He Chunhua finished listening, he chuckled. “So the brat’s not acting like an idiot this time?”
* * *
The next three days, the rain fell in a fine, ceaseless curtain.
At night, He Lingchuan found himself tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Eventually, he gave up on sleeping altogether. He climbed out of bed and had his personal guards pitch him a new tent, one much larger than the one he had had before. By the time they finished, the size and layout were almost on par with the provincial government office.
He used it for practicing with the saber.
Fleeting Life’s saber qi was too fierce. Hence, to avoid rain pouring down on him when it came time to sleep, he made himself a crude wooden practice saber and spent every waking moment outside of meals practicing the Wave-Cleaving Saber.
The space was limited, so he did not pair saber-technique practice with his movement technique. There were no darting steps, no sweeping charges, just one form after another, slashed out...
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