Chapter 16: Temperament
After the maids withdrew, Li Hao no longer continued the game of chess. Instead, he rose and walked towards the courtyard.
Li Fu also stood up. When Li Hao didn’t speak to him, he would return to his expressionless, soldierly demeanor, a silent shadow following closely behind Li Hao like a loyal guard.
Earlier, regarding the assassination attempt, he had questioned the mansion servants, delving into the details, feeling a lingering sense of fear.
Especially after spending these recent days playing chess with the young master, Li Fu had come to understand. The position where he was now seated had been the exact spot where the assassin had once sat.
A mere chessboard had separated them.
Such a close distance—seizing a moment when the child’s guard was down, riddled with openings—it would’ve been more than enough to strike in an instant!
Yet somehow, that assassination was stopped. Whether it was due to the assassin’s incompetence, the terrifying skill of the family elder who intervened, or simply that the young master was miraculously blessed with good fortune, it was hard to say.
Taking this as a lesson, Li Fu remained by Li Hao’s side without pause, accompanying him while he ate, drank, and slept. Any servant or maid approaching within three feet of Li Hao would be subjected to his hawk-like scrutiny.
This constant vigilance led to grumbling among the courtyard staff. Each time they reported matters to the young master, they were so nervous that they dared not raise their heads... to the point they were nearly driven into introversion.
Seeing Li Hao approach, Bian Ruxue, who was practicing her swordsmanship, pouted slightly, turning her body as if unwilling to let Li Hao see her.
Li Hao noticed her resentful expression and smiled. He called a servant to bring over a small stool and some snacks and fresh fruit, then sat beside her and began to eat.
“Practicing the sword half-heartedly like that—at this rate, you’ll never beat anyone,” Li Hao remarked with a grin as he observed the girl’s scattered swings, clearly distracted.
Bian Ruxue’s eyes reddened slightly. She stopped her sword movements, lowered her head, and said, “If only Brother Hao could cultivate. With your intelligence, your swordsmanship would undoubtedly surpass mine, and you’d be the most outstanding one.”
After a year of training at the martial field, Bian Ruxue had grown quickly. As she gradually matured, she began to understand why, after Li Hao’s bone-measuring test, the adults had looked at him with that particular expression.
And she also understood what he had truly lost that year.
Hearing her words, Li Fu’s brows knitted slightly. In the depths of his otherwise impassive eyes, a trace of regret emerged.
Wasn’t this the regret of the entire Li Family? And the regret of Marquis Xingwu himself?
Li Hao felt a twinge of helplessness. He wasn’t upset about it, so why was this little girl the one feeling sad instead?
“Don’t say that,” Li Hao comforted her. “Practicing swordsmanship is tedious. Just look at you—out in the sun every day, winter or summer, enduring such hardship. Meanwhile, I get to enjoy cool melons under the pavilion in the summer, and in the winter, I can stay warm in bed, sleeping until the sun is high. That’s what I call happiness!”
Li Fu couldn’t help but cast a sideways glance at the young master. That truly sounded like something he would say.
Without Marquis Xingwu around and the other madams from the various residences hesitant to discipline him strictly, Li Fu had noticed that this child’s temperament had grown somewhat cavalier and carefree.
“You’re not really afraid of hardship,” Bian Ruxue retorted, lifting her head.
“What would you know?”
Li Hao replied dismissively, “Look at me now—too lazy to even stand. If I can sit, I won’t stand; if I can lie down, I won’t sit. Some hardships are pointless to endure. Otherwise, why bother with sweetness at all? You’re still young; you wouldn’t understand. Just focus on practicing your sword.”
“Stop spouting nonsense.”
Li Fu couldn’t hold back any longer and reprimanded Li Hao sternly.
What kind of absurd talk was that? Hardship is pointless? Out on the frontier, every soldier endures hardships!
For a warrior, enduring hardship is second nature. The only fear is a lack of talent and resources.
This young master, though... born into comfort, lacking talent, disdaining hardship, and now he was even leading Ruxue astray. This wouldn’t do.
Bian Ruxue’s talent in the sword was extraordinary—Li Fu could see that clearly. One day, she would achieve great accomplishments in swordsmanship, becoming a protective shield at Li Hao’s side. He couldn’t allow this scoundrel of a young master to talk her out of that future.
“But, Uncle Fu, I think Brother Hao is right,” Bian Ruxue spoke up in defense of Li Hao.
Li Fu’s eyes widened in annoyance. This girl was far too easily swayed by Li Hao. If she truly went astray, there’d be no turning back.
“Stop filling Ruxue’s head with all this nonsense, young master! Don’t think I won’t punish you. If I did, even your father would be pleased!”
Li Fu refrained from directing his ire at the obedient orphaned girl, so instead, he resorted to sternly threatening Li Hao.
Li Hao gave an awkward laugh, knowing he shared no common ground with this rigid, uptight man.
Besides, the Divine General Mansion was a military family, one that championed frugality and resilience.
The ladies of the various residences might be adorned in lavish silks, winning admiration from the outside world, but with the Divine General Mansion’s standing and resources, they could live even more extravagantly if they wanted.
The eldest madam, He Jianlan, even ate vegetarian two days a week to remind herself and her children, despite taking countless lives as a soldier, not to indulge in luxury and forget their duty and honor.
“Yes, yes, Uncle Fu is right.”
Li Hao turned to Ruxue. “Look, you’ve made Uncle Fu angry. Hurry and go back to your sword practice.”
Ruxue blinked, her little face slightly pouting. It was clearly Brother Hao who had upset him.
Still, she made no argument; if she could bear Uncle Fu’s anger on behalf of Li Hao, she didn’t mind.
Watching Li Hao’s shameless words, Li Fu nearly chuckled in disbelief, rolling his eyes. This boy was truly incorrigible.
“Uncle Fu, please help guide Ruxue with her swordsmanship,” Li Hao asked Li Fu.
“I use the saber, not the sword,” Li Fu replied plainly.
“Blades and swords are practically the same; there’s not much difference,” Li Hao said with a smile.
“What do you know? To perfect one’s skill in a weapon, even a minute difference matters greatly,” Li Fu shot back, restraining his irritation. It was understandable—this boy didn’t understand the martial path.
With a slight sigh, Li Hao simply continued munching on fruit, crossing his legs, watching as Ruxue practiced her sword moves.
“I think your spin isn’t quite right,” he casually pointed out to Bian Ruxue mid-practice. “If you bring your arm down a bit more, it’ll look better.”
“Stop interfering; you’ll distract Ruxue,” Li Fu scolded with a frown.
An amateur guiding an expert? How ridiculous!
Bian Ruxue, however, paid no mind to Li Fu. She was used to Li Hao’s casual advice. Although he wasn’t trained in martial arts, following his suggestions did often feel smoother.
Obeying Li Hao’s words, she adjusted her arm down and executed the spin again, finding that it indeed flowed more naturally.
Li Fu uttered a small “hmm” of surprise. It wasn’t just that Ruxue had followed Li Hao’s advice; she was quite deferential to him. But Li Hao’s suggestion really had intensified the strike’s fierceness.
He glanced at the young master, lounging casually with fruit in hand and legs crossed. Was this just luck?
Or did he somehow understand this simply by aesthetics?
“Use your waist as well. For a long downward cut like that, it’s not just the arm—you need your waist to lead the movement,” Li Hao advised.
Ruxue nodded, making the adjustment and executing it repeatedly until she got the hang of it, her strikes now creating a visible wind and clearly packing more force.
Li Fu’s brow arched, startled. Once could be chance, but twice?
Could this boy really have some latent swordsmanship talent?
Though Li Fu often found Li Hao’s temperament disagreeable, he had to admit, after these months of interaction, the young master was indeed intelligent, showing a maturity beyond his years.
Could it be that he actually possessed a talent for swordsmanship but was unable to cultivate, unable to manifest this gift?
The thought pained him deeply. If true, what a tragic waste it would be!
Under Li Hao’s casual guidance, Ruxue’s sword form was gradually approaching perfection.
There was no other way. Given Li Hao’s deep understanding of swordsmanship, he only needed a glance to absorb Ruxue’s high-grade sword techniques and raise them to a near-perfect level on his mental “panel.”
By giving advice that corrected flaws at an optimal level, he skipped past the merely proficient and directly into mastery. Even a slight adjustment from Ruxue could achieve nearly flawless results.
Li Hao then asked her to perform the move she had lost with in her previous duel.
Ruxue obediently demonstrated.
One look, and Li Hao understood, even envisioning the moment of her defeat.
However, he refrained from explaining it in too much detail, especially with Li Fu nearby. A hint of talent was fine, but too much would seem unnatural.
“That move’s downward strike isn’t very graceful. I’d adjust it to a slanted cut, with your elbow angled back.”
“Switching this slash to a thrust would also work better, and don’t let your wrist shake,” he added, casually pointing out.
Ruxue listened closely, slowly grasping Li Hao’s advice and practicing again and again until her movements aligned with his guidance.
Li Fu glanced over at Li Hao, now fully convinced that the boy had remarkable swordsmanship talent.
Though his terminology was crude, critiquing with “graceful” or “not graceful,” the young master’s perception of weapon aesthetics was, in itself, a unique talent.
...
In the early morning, the two went to pay respects at the Changchun Academy before Ruxue rushed eagerly to the training grounds.
Once her morning drills and lessons concluded, Ruxue sought out the side-lineage youth who had defeated her the day before. The girl, with a sword as tall as she was, wore a look of unyielding seriousness as she challenged him again.
Hearing her words, the boy burst out laughing.
The other side-lineage youths around him joined in, jeering and mocking.
They might not dare to antagonize the direct-lineage children, but Ruxue, after all, wasn’t part of the Li Family’s direct line—merely an engaged fiancée who had yet to marry into the family. And her fiancé? A young master with a reputation in the Divine General Mansion as a “waste.”
One day, any one of them would surpass him.
With that thought, they naturally harbored resentment toward the one who seemed to sit on a treasure trove, enjoying endless resources and favoritism.
“You got beaten by Brother Bai yesterday. Still haven’t learned your lesson?”
“If you’re standing up for that useless guy, let him come out here himself. I don’t need Brother Bai’s help; I’d take him down with both hands tied!”
“Hmph, Brother Bai went easy on you yesterday. Have you no sense?”
“Your talent is impressive, sure, but Brother Bai’s been training here for eight years now. Maybe in six months you’ll have a chance, but by then, Brother Bai won’t even be here.”
Ruxue clenched her jaw, staring at the boy in the center. “Do you dare?”
This question stirred his pride. The youth known as Brother Bai was Li Dongbai, one of the three most talented in the training grounds among the side-lineage children. Possessing a seventh-level battle body, he enjoyed resources nearly on par with those of the direct line and had already reached the Zhoutian Realm.
But by the training grounds’ rules, in skill-based duels, the stronger party’s cultivation level had to be suppressed to match that of the weaker.
Currently, Ruxue’s cultivation had reached the pinnacle of the Tongli Realm.
“Today, I’ll make sure you understand,” Li Dongbai said coldly, stepping onto the platform.
Soon, a crowd gathered around the platform, eager to witness the duel between the prominent side-lineage talents and this exceptional young girl.
Outside the crowd, an elderly instructor from the training grounds, a seasoned soldier, narrowed his eyes with a faint smile, approving of the spirited competition among these youngsters.
After all, a sword’s edge is honed through trials. Without struggle in youth, where would setbacks come from, where would progress be found? He certainly couldn’t wait until his age to finally fight tooth and nail.
Soon, the clash of two figures, one large and one small, ignited on the stage.
The same scene had already played out the previous day. Today, however, Li Dongbai’s attacks carried a more lethal edge.
“Looks like little Ruxue will lose again,” the old instructor mused. “Though her talent is indeed great, she still needs more tempering.”
At that moment, as their swords intersected, a crucial strike was made.
With a sharp sound, one sword flew out, flipping through the air before embedding itself in the sand outside the platform.
The two figures on the platform froze.
So did the voices cheering them on from below.
And even the instructor’s smile solidified on his face.