Slowly, Nan Wuyue mentally reached into his dantian until he touched his core. After a moment of silent struggle, he pinched a single thread of qi from its depths and pulled it slowly out of his abdomen. The wisp of energy was dark and smoky, a shadowy existence impossible to detect by physical senses alone. Nan Wuyue quickly pulled out a dagger and sliced his finger, smearing the blood along the edge of the blade. As if attracted by the liquid, the thread of qi attached itself to the crimson streak, then sank slowly within the metal to turn it a dull, blackish-gray.

He tensed after that, listening for any signs of movement beyond the bedroom. But it seemed that Mo Yixuan had settled into his meditation for the night. Strange too, how his master had started picking up such quiet habits. Yet with last night's declaration of attack, he could only assume the man had been biding his time to strike.

Whatever the case, this dagger would give him an extra element of self defense. It was now imbibed with a ghostly tendril of his true qi within its depths—a potent weapon whose treasured qi could injure its user too, if not for the fact that Nan Wuyue's original core was in a time and place removed from here. He had discovered he could access shades of his future self (or was it his future past?) through sending out mental feelers in the blankness of his mind. It was a side effect of his reincarnation, he suspected, bending the rules of time to access a portion of himself that would exist in the future.

Why or how it worked, he hadn't had time to find out. And as the last thread of qi vanished into the weapon, Nan Wuyue felt a wave of exhaustion sweep through his body. It happened every time he reached for his former self or his old powers, but the backlash was only temporary. As he settled down to quell the rising waves of chaotic qi in his dantian, he began to formulate a plan of attack.

Meanwhile, Mo Yixuan was having a restless night. Unlike the previous sessions, he couldn't calm his mind enough to settle into a meditative trance. Part of the blame lay in the fact that he had to ambush Nan Wuyue tomorrow with no experience, but the rest came from his own reluctance.

Once upon a time, he too had dreamed of success and glory in the firm that had hired him as an aspiring architect. He had a passion and fondness for design ever since he was a child, but that love had stifled within the confines of the company, then died with the ashes of Shangguan Yin's betrayal. Nan Wuyue's declaration sounded less like a young disciple trying to prove himself to his master than someone determined to beat him back. Even though the current Mo Yixuan had nothing to do with the boy's grievances, it rankled him to be lumped in the same category as the original host of this body.

Instead of a sympathizer, he was pushed into playing villain instead! The fact left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He had already gone through one lifetime with others thinking the worst of him and now had to relive it again.

The only solution was to finish this quickly. But to do that meant he'd have to pressure his disciple to improve faster, which translated to hitting him harder. Yet if the alternative was leaving Nan Wuyue to an uncertain fate...

Mo Yixuan had grown up as an only child, far removed from cousins or other family members. He hardly knew how to care for a sibling, much less a disciple who relied on his master for everything. The only time he'd tried was with Shangguan Yin, and that had turned into a disaster.

It's only repaying a debt, he reminded himself. With that simple thought, his doubts disappeared, buried beneath a comforting layer of technicalities.

That's right. I'm just cleaning up unfinished business.

None of this will matter once I've given what I owe him.

—

Five hours later, a meditating Mo Yixuan was greeted by a rush of wind to the face. Seconds before the fist stirring up the air connected, he had already turned to evade the blow. As the arm of his assailant flew past him, he easily grabbed it around the wrist and twisted it towards the owner's shoulder. All this came from pure instinct—it seemed the host's innate muscle memory was still working for his body.

Nan Wuyue hissed in pain, but countered by turning his body in mid-air in an attempt to vault over his master.

In response, Mo Yixuan threw out his palm and struck the boy against his chest. Simultaneously, he released his other arm so Nan Wuyue could be sent flying with the blow. His disciple rolled multiple times on the floor before coming to a stop.

"You're off to an early start," he remarked as he stood up.

"It's already a new day, shizun." Across from him, Nan Wuyue slowly rose to his feet, massaging his wrist with one hand. By some miracle, their little bout hadn't disturbed any of the furniture in the study.

"I see." One of Mo Yixuan's hands shook from the restless thrum that raced through his heart. He exhaled softly and opened the window behind him, letting in a twitter of birdsong. "For the house's sake, let's take this outside."

He didn't hesitate to step on the windowsill and jump into the courtyard. A flicker of bewilderment shone on Nan Wuyue's face before he steeled his expression and followed.

The moment Mo Yixuan set foot on the paved stone ground, he became aware of two things: 1) that it was very cold, and 2) he was only wearing his stockings.

Ah, I left my boots behind...

Meditation required sitting cross-legged, so he'd taken his shoes off last night. Then Nan Wuyue's surprise attack had distracted him too much for him to put them back on. He darted a glance at his disciple, but the boy was in the middle of leaping out of the window and didn't seem to notice. Mo Yixuan quickly slipped his bare feet beneath his robes while standing with hands behind his back, the fingernails digging into his palms. He wasn't a fighter even if this body had the skills of one, so it was rather jarring to see Nan Wuyue get the jump on him. Unarmed and wearing his usual patchy robes, his disciple looked more like a vagrant of the streets than a trained cultivator. When Nan Wuyue spoke, the sound cut crisply through the morning air.

"Shizun."

Mo Yixuan narrowed his eyes against the sun, trying to see Nan Wuyue's expression. "What is it?"

To Nan Wuyue, it just looked like his master was glaring with impatience. "I only have one question."

"Ask away."

Nan Wuyue smiled bitterly at the response. If only everything was this easy. "What brought this on?" he finally asked. "Disciple hasn't done anything to merit extra attention from shizun..."

Mo Yixuan blinked. Of course. To the boy who'd been constantly neglected by his master, his sudden attentions would be strange, if not downright off-putting.

"You're my core disciple, so of course I'd dedicate most of my time to you," Mo Yixuan reasoned plainly. "Yesterday made it clear enough that you need it."

Nan Wuyue narrowed his eyes. You mean, when you suddenly changed your tune and started to "fix" the mistakes you taught me?

"You have an imbalance of qi in your body," Mo Yixuan added in the silence. "Unless I help you get rid of it, it'll build up to dangerous levels."

Imbalance? Nan Wuyue's eyes flickered briefly with surprise. The next second they grew guarded. That's right, when my soul came back, it brought along the spiritual component of my qi. It's no wonder that he noticed the abnormality.

"Peak Lord Ouyang was of the opinion that forcing you to your limits would be best to release the excess," Mo Yixuan went on calmly. "You can treat this as a training exercise, but it'll be a battle for your life."