Be Gentle, Immortal Master

Bai Ye corrected my handling of power flow a few times during the rest of the lesson. By the end of the day, the glitter of starlight on the tip of my swords had spread fully along both blades, and the flash of power was able to last more than a fleeting second.

I was exultant at my progress but also exhausted from the effort. When he finally dismissed me in the late afternoon, I plodded back to my room and immediately plopped into my bed, despite the westering sun that was still shining brightly through my window.

The lack of sleep from last night hit me, and I drifted off.

I usually didn't dream much, but maybe the lesson had worn out too much of my body and too little of my mind. I saw myself keep practicing even in my sleep, raising and lowering my swords again and again in tireless determination.

"A little higher," I heard Bai Ye's voice behind me.

His comment didn't make sense. The move I just carried out was a low slice meant to foil the opponent's footing, which wouldn't be effective if I aimed any higher. I straightened and turned to look at him.

But it wasn't me that he was talking to. He was bending over a girl clumsily holding a sword that was almost as tall as her, trying to keep her balance as the blade swung erratically in her grip.

I gasped. It was the thirteen-year-old me, learning to wield a sword for the first time. Was I inside my memories of the past?

"Imagine the weight of your body shifting with the sword," he continued. "Steady your stance and adjust your footing accordingly … That's it. Good job."

I fixed my eyes on him longingly. Immortals don't age, and he looked exactly the same back then as he did today. Even his voice was filled with the same patience and encouragement, and his gaze glistened with the same reassurance. My heart swelled with warmth—his unfaltering support had brought me such a long way, from a girl who couldn't even hold a sword to a disciple capable of her first advanced technique.

Though the thirteen-year-old me, dissatisfied with her progress, sighed. "I'm so much slower at learning to use a sword than medicine. Would I ever be able to catch up with the others?"

Bai Ye patted her head affectionately. "We all have our own talents and paths, Qing-er. There's no need to compare yourself to anyone else, as long as you've tried your best at what you want to do."

"But I want to be better at swords!" the stubborn girl exclaimed. "Chu Xi said I'm not a real cultivator until I know how to win a fight."

"Is that what you want to do?" Bai Ye asked. "Do you want to win because you like being the strongest, or because you want to prove yourself to her? Your life is your own, Qing-er. Remember that you have only one chance to live, and you shouldn't waste it on trying to impress or please others. Chase your own dreams and follow what your heart desires. Don't be swayed by anyone else."

The thirteen-year-old me stared at him, nodding without understanding. How could I have grasped such a concept back then? Even when he said the same things to me a week ago in the garden, I was still half puzzled, unsure what my answers should be.

"What about you?" Bai Ye suddenly added, turning towards me. "You are no longer a young girl now. Have you finally found out what you want in this life, and what your heart truly desires?"

I stumbled when he stepped closer, his gaze an intense darkness like the moonless midnight sky. How could he see me? I tried to back away, but my body wouldn't move. The girl faded from my vision, leaving only the two of us. He reached for me and lifted my chin with his forefinger.

"Tell me," he commanded. "What do you desire?"

His question was a snarl, utterly unlike his usual gentleness. But instead of fear, I only felt the fire that was hidden in me all day rising, burning from where he touched me to the rest of my body.

What did I desire? I had always wanted to improve, always wanted to be stronger. But what for?

I had never been one that coveted fame or glory. The thirteen-year-old me wanted to better myself only so that I could stand up to my name, so that others would stop mocking me for being a useless disciple to the most revered master at Mount Hua. As I grew older and started to understand my feelings for Bai Ye, I wished even more for advancements so that he would be proud of me, so that I wouldn't see disappointment every time I gazed into those beautiful eyes. And now, I wanted power more than ever so that I could be worthy of him, so that one day I could accompany him as his true soulmate, his true equal.

It had always been for him.

I saw Bai Ye capturing every thread of my thoughts in his eyes. "You know it, Qing-er." His voice was an unfamiliar rasp. "You've never wanted power. You wanted me, all along."

Such simple words. The deepest and darkest secret within me was unearthed so blatantly, so ruthlessly. A secret so hidden that I couldn't even acknowledge it to myself until now. A secret so heavy that I never thought revealing it would … feel so good.

He leaned in, and I panted as his finger glided up my chin and grazed over my lips, forcing them to part. "How will you have me?" he asked.

Fire roared. This was not the usual Bai Ye, but his bluntness only made me burn even more. All my secrets, all my guilt, all my inner struggles be damned. How would I have him? I pulled hard on his collar and kissed him, so fiercely that our teeth clicked. He reciprocated the passion, sucking on my tongue and hoisting my body tight against him, his other hand reaching beneath my dress and ripped—

With a tear of fabric, the dream ended. I sat up in a jerk, gasping violently.

I must've slept for quite a while. It was already night, and the moon was hanging high in the star-strewn sky. I opened my windows. A late-night draft filled the room, cool against the light sweat on my forehead.

What in heaven's name had I just dreamed of?

I closed my eyes, hoping to recollect myself. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn't stop Bai Ye's words from echoing in my ears, along with my disarrayed heartbeat: "You wanted me."

Those were the words that I gave him in my dream. Those were the words that I wanted to hear from him, words that I knew were true.

Maybe it was time to face the truth.

My eyes flew open, and I turned away from the window. I padded soundlessly out of my room, down the dark corridors and through the winding paths in the moonlit garden, coming to a stop at his door. I curled my fingers and knocked.

I loved him, and I wanted him.. There was nothing to be ashamed of.