They arrived back at the Caravan. Tang Yin headed into the carriage without a word, closed the door behind her, and then curled up in a corner, her mind still reeling. The images in her head pyed over and over again, not stopping.

  Outside, Chen Xin spoke briefly with Madame Ning. Yin couldn't hear what they were talking about, but no one bothered her, and eventually, they slowly started moving.

  Tang Yin didn't notice the passing of time. Instead, her mind repyed the events, overthinking how she could have changed the situation and what she could have done differently to prevent Ning Wu from dying and endangering Elder Jack's wife.

  She loved a good fight and had always liked a good sparring session but never killed someone. But it hit home now that with the fighting always came the possibility of killing someone. She had knocked them out and injured them, but never had she done it mortally and never with sting consequences.

  It was different from fighting or killing spirit beasts.

  That had already made her uncomfortable when seeing them as animals, but after she had come to know Jiang and saw them as more human, she hadn't even killed or been able to kill spirit beasts, but now...seeing a human sughtered and killed that easily…

  Eventually, she looked outside. Night had fallen; the moon was so thin in the sky that it was almost invisible, so the stars shone brighter than ever.

  How long do I intend to wallow in this? What use is it? It is done.

  She took a deep breath. That was right.

  What use was it thinking about it?

  It had happened. There was no changing that. She needed to live with it.

  "That's going to be nightmares again," she muttered, then pstered a smile.

  "Optimism, Yin," she cheered herself up. "Burrowing inside your head isn't going to ever solve anything."

  Then she stepped outside and smiled.

  "Alright, what's for dinner?" she asked the other people from the Caravan. None of them blinked for long. Instead, she found herself in a hug. "Stew," Madame Ning said, released her, and waved her to the fire where they rested.

  "Yay." Tang Yin ran over, took a bowl and a spoon, and got in line for dinner. When the stew was in her bowl, she settled down apart from the others and started eating. The stew tasted a bit like ash — she ate it anyway. Looking at the others, it was as if Ning Wu wasn't dead, and everything was the same as always.

  It was not.

  Suddenly, Madame Ning settled beside her and ate silently, keeping her company.

  "The vilge is fine. I had someone check — no one was harmed." Uncle Jian said and then ruffled her hair.

  "Thank you," Yin said and smiled.

  Then Chen Xin stretched out his hand. In it — a sword. She stared at it, then looked at him, confused. Around them, everyone turned silent.

  "What?"

  "For you. Your old one broke," he said. "It is a gift."

  "I don't think I want a bde right now," she said, feeling distinctively uncomfortable, and he shook his head.

  "Take it. It is the same for every spirit master, every warrior, every fighter," Chen Xin told her. "Eventually, you have to make a choice. Either pick up the bde again and continue fighting, or take another way."

  "Maybe I don't want to make that choice now," she whispered.

  "You have to," he said. "Tang Yin, you have to do it fast. Because when you let it fester, it will consume you. Fight, or take another path."

  Tang Yin's hand balled around the hilt of the sword.

  "I fight," she whispered. "I will fight. I have no choice." Tears welled up in her eyes, but she suppressed them.

  "Everyone has a choice," Chen Xin said and got up. "Let's go to training. Come with me."

  She got up and followed him. "training, really? now?"

  "Yes, really, now. Stopping one day means needing a week to catch up. You have made your choice, " he pointed out, and she followed him. They were walking slower next to each other. "But that is not what I want to tell you today. Rather, I think it is time you learn about swords and the responsibilities and ways that come with them."

  "Philosophy lessons, really?" She huffed, and Uncle Jian shook his head in amusement. "Yes, and the first thing you need to know is that every sword in this world has its own character," he said, and she blinked, looking up at him as they stopped. "Some swords are violent, some swords are peaceful. But in the end, the energy and direction of their power are led by the one who wields it. That principle counts double when handling martial sword spirits."

  She nodded as he continued walking, and she followed after him.

  When they were farther away, he asked her, "Can you release your sword spirit?" She hesitated.

  "It's better if I don't," she told him, and he nodded.

  "May I know what your sword spirit's name is?"

  She nodded after hesitating that the cat was already out of the bag anyway.

  "Twin Moon Flower Bdes."

  Uncle Jian quieted, then started ughing—a booming ugh—before he stopped and looked at her.

  "Truly?" He asked. She nodded, and then he settled down on a tree branch.

  "How are you even alive?" he asked, and she shrugged.

  "I'm hard to kill," she told him. "And very lucky."

  "I see. Good. This means we must switch up a few things during your training. For one, you'll be training dual-handed swordsmanship from now on." He noted cooly. "Good." He took position in front of her. "Attack me."

  She looked at him, confused. "What? I thought we do philosophy?"

  "One piece of philosophy a day. Now attack me," he said. "We're sparring from now on. That will be the only training. You will fight me — every day. Again and again, until you fight me to either a draw or defeat me."

  "How?" She looked at him, confused again.

  How am I supposed to beat a titled douluo?

  He raised his head, hands folded behind his back.

  Tang Yin decided she didn't want to think anymore. She readied herself and focused, her hand tightening around the hilt of her sword. Her body moved, following her instincts as she attacked