Chapter 125 Squeezing a Little Bird: How Does a Little Bird Bit People?
After the lively New Year celebrations and a two-week break, students gradually resumed classes.
During this period, Qiao Yanshen successfully broke through to the mid-stage of the Golden Core realm. Not in a hurry to advance further, he put the previously mentioned teaching matter back on the agenda.
All sects have arranged unified courses, which, in Shen Lixia's words, are public courses.
Basic swordsmanship, basic herbalism... other courses focusing on specific areas require enrollment and scrambling to take. For example, subjects like grammar and rhetoric can be offered and studied even by monks who are interested in them.
Of course, you can audit the class even if you don't get a spot, but you won't be able to take the exam or have the instructors monitor your studies.
During her seclusion, if Qiao Yanshen wasn't practicing swordsmanship, she would go to Yan Xueya's library to read ancient books. She already knew several ancient characters, and this further enhanced her mastery of them.
So she didn't choose to teach swordsmanship, but instead picked up her pen and wrote on the form handed to her by the handyman apprentice: Introduction to Paleography.
Upon seeing the column, Shen Lixia knew without even looking at the name that it was created by Qiao Yanshen.
A faint sense of lifelessness welled up within her.
How did the senior sister open the door to the course she failed?
On the morning of the first day of class, the sunlight was cool and fell on the people who came through the snow.
"I thought Senior Sister Qiao would be teaching swordsmanship!" one of the group said.
“Even basic sword techniques are fine; a master can always refine the simplest techniques to perfection,” another person chimed in.
The others also sighed helplessly.
This truly disappointed the students who came because of the small competition.
I thought my senior sister would teach me swordsmanship, just like she showed on the field, but it turned out to be a theory lesson.
It's still ancient writing. Who needs to learn ancient writing?
But they guessed that this might be a deceptive tactic by their senior sister, just to avoid attracting too many people.
After all, there are too many people and too many opinions.
They thought to themselves with a sense of relief: "Thank goodness, we almost fell for our senior's trick."
However, after sitting down in the room one after another, they realized that Qiao Yanshen really came to teach ancient characters.
She didn't even bring her sword; Yu Feng, which she usually carried at her waist, was nowhere to be seen.
There were more than a dozen people who signed up, including many inner disciples. Qiao Yanshen followed her familiar method, copying the lecture notes the night before and distributing them one by one.
After she finished speaking, she returned to the group, cleared her throat, and began to speak slowly.
There was a rustling noise below, but she ignored it, only slightly raising her voice. In ancient times, teaching tools were scarce, and relying solely on one's voice was quite challenging.
Her voice, usually gentle and pleasant to speak, became a powerful lullaby in class; within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, some students were already pecking at the rice like chickens.
Qiao Yanshen caught sight of someone, increased the force in his hand, and the charcoal stick snapped in two with a crack.
She chose the shorter section and aimed it at the person.
Then everyone heard a soft sound somewhere. To the person dreaming, it was like thunder, making her tremble and jolting her awake.
When I opened my eyes, I was met with those steady eyes. They were clearly gentle and warm, yet a chill crept into my heart.
If your senior sister tells you not to sleep, will you sleep or not?
You have to sleep, even if it kills you.
It's okay. There are different levels of sleeping in class. She didn't talk in her sleep or sleepwalk, so it doesn't even count as serious sleeping.
The boy took a deep breath, then gave an awkward smile, clasped his hands together, and bowed deeply, looking as if he were worshipping a deity.
Qiao Yanshen glanced at her lightly, smiled in response, and looked away.
She continued speaking as if nothing had happened: "The characters '沉' and '沈' are interchangeable; they are the same character in classical Chinese, both referring to falling into water..."
But this lesson was destined to be fraught with difficulties.
A moment later, another student raised her hand and stood up before Qiao Yanshen could speak.
This person was dressed in fiery red, with a crimson ribbon in her hair, clearly indicating she was a cultivator with a fire elemental root. Her sword was slung behind her back, dragging across the ground with a dull thud as she stood up.
Qiao Yanshen's brow twitched.
"Senior sister, what's the point of this lesson?"
She has a straightforward personality. Qiao Yanshen could tell that she wasn't being provocative, but rather asking a serious question.
She sighed and said, "I know you all want to learn swordsmanship, since that's the case..."
Qiao Yanshen walked to the table next to her, which was used to place other items, and picked up a tree branch that was placed on it. She hadn't brought her sword today, as she was preparing to give Shen Xiaxin a proper lesson.
"I'll have to ask for your guidance, junior sister," she said calmly, waving the branch twice.
The young man was overjoyed and raised his sword to strike, but he saw a surge of powerful spiritual energy erupt instantly. The azure water flowed into rivers, and the small flower branch was now like a rolling wave. The sword's momentum was overwhelming, and it came down fiercely.
However, the person in front of them seemed to have deliberately suppressed their cultivation level. All the disciples could feel that the spiritual power in this attack was at the same Foundation Establishment level as the opponent.
Her face paled as she hastily tried to defend herself. A sharp chill assaulted her face, and the boy's spiritual power, like a flame encountering a flood, was utterly futile and was completely swallowed up.
In the blink of an eye, the blade was already inches away, and blood would splatter on the spot in the next moment!
The others held their breath, and some even wanted to draw their swords to help, but Qiao Yanshen was just too fast—if an enemy were that fast in battle, probably no one could take a life from him.
"That's it." Qiao Yanshen flicked his wrist, and the sword intent instantly dissipated, showing his ability to control it at will.
She put the flower back and said calmly, "A person who understands swordsmanship will know that when facing someone stronger than oneself, one should first prepare for defense rather than rush to draw one's sword. Seek survival in danger and find opportunities in the unchanging. Only by grasping the essence can one go further."
In layman's terms, it means go back and practice the basic sword technique ninety-nine times.
Qiao Yanshen put his hands behind his back and continued, "Therefore, ancient scripts are also like this. They are a medium that allows us to better trace the origins and get closer to the essence of the Dao. When a technique passes through the hands of another person, it always carries a personal touch. Perhaps a difference of just one word is enough to distort the whole thing."
She glanced at the sky outside.
"Don't rely too much on others; rely on yourself."
By the time they returned to the mountain courtyard, it was already noon.
Halfway there, he happened to run into Tang Huairou, who was being chased by a group of junior female students asking her questions. Her smile was as warm as a spring breeze, which made Qiao Yanshen sigh that she had an extremely strong ability to engage in business.
As a result, he accepted a bamboo pointer as a gift from the other party.
"Who would fall for that trick anymore?" The young man shook his head helplessly as he pushed open the door.
I wonder how my junior sister is doing.
Shen Lixia was still one small realm away from reaching the mid-stage of the Golden Core realm. A few days after confessing her feelings, she took the initiative to wait at the door, eagerly waiting for Qiao Yanshen to nod and let her move back.
The result, of course, was as desired.
So now, she's moved back into the room that Qiao Yanshen cleaned every day.
Both of them suppressed the urge to ask each other why they didn't sleep together like before, and continued to live their lives peacefully.
But when I returned home today, I saw clothes scattered everywhere.
The tables and chairs were also knocked over, some even toppled over, as if they had been hit.
Which cat took a dislike to this place and came in to cause such a ruckus? Qiao Yanshen rubbed his temples, arranged the tables and chairs meticulously, and then went to pick up the clothes on the ground.
A pristine white outer robe, a deep blue shawl...
Wait, this looks familiar.
She looked at it carefully, a subtle unease rising in her heart, and called out, "Junior Sister?"
There was no response; it seemed that Shen Lixia had gone out.
Isn't this my junior sister's clothes? She's always been very clean; she would never leave her clothes lying around on the floor.
Having previously hid in the closet, they finally remembered its purpose and gradually developed the habit of putting their clothes inside. Cats wouldn't open closet doors by themselves, so could it be that a thief broke in?
The wardrobe was indeed open, and there were indeed far fewer clothes inside.
Qiao Yanshen turned his head and saw two pieces of clothing scattered at the door of his bedroom. It looked as if someone had crumpled them up and tossed them aside in a fit of frustration.
It also belongs to Shen Lixia.
She first gathered the clothes and placed them on the chair, then walked into the inner room. The door was ajar, and Qiao Yanshen moved quietly, his hands forming a hand seal, ready to strike at any moment.
But the sight that greeted her upon entering made her gasp and freeze in place.
The bed where the two of them used to sleep together was in a mess, with several of her outer garments piled on top, deliberately arranged to resemble branches used to build a nest.
The outline of the quilt was vaguely visible in the middle, and Qiao Yanshen had a guess in his mind. He called out softly:
"Li Xia?"
Hearing her voice, the blanket was pulled back, revealing a person curled up slightly inside. Shen Lixia sat up and turned to look at her.
Beneath the boy's disheveled hair, his hazy eyes glistened with tears, as if he were about to shed them again. He bit his lower lip tightly, wearing only a thin layer of clothing. Despite this, in the cold weather, he appeared as if he were being burned by fire, his face flushed with pain, and sweat dripping down his cheeks.
In her arms, a white outer garment was being carefully held; it belonged to Qiao Yanshen.
Upon seeing the person who arrived, Shen Lixia blinked, seemingly regaining her senses somewhat. When she spoke, her voice was soft and remorseful, with a hint of a sob in it: "I'm sorry, Senior Sister... I messed up your clothes."
She was in so much pain.
Despite his gradual improvement in cultivation, the pain in his back did not improve. He was usually unaware of it, but once it surged up, it felt as if something was trying to break through his skin and sever his bones, growing out aggressively.
This strange growing pain occupied every inch of her meridians and every crevice of her bones, making her toss and turn at night, unable to stop herself from whimpering, like a mad bird, rushing around and forcefully breaking its own feathers, as if this could relieve the pain.
Now, perhaps out of exhaustion, or perhaps out of a vague, instinctive impulse, the boy stopped his destruction. Instead, he took some of Qiao Yanshen's outer garments, curled up on her bed, and made himself a safe haven.
Like birds building their nests, they are entirely drawn to this person's presence and warmth. Only now, coming to their senses, do they realize how inappropriate this was.
Shen Lixia's words reached her lips, but she couldn't control herself: "I'm sorry, I really miss my senior sister..."
I want to see her. I want to rest my head on her hand, letting my burning cheeks press against her cool palms, finding a little comfort in that.
I want to tell her how much I like her, but just thinking about it makes my eyes sting and my body burn with happiness.
A sticky, lingering feeling welled up inside her. Even though she was initially in the wrong, she felt increasingly distressed. Why did her senior sister have to take so long? Her entire morning had been taken up by someone else; she longed to attend class too. If only Qiao Yanshen taught—she would definitely be her smartest student.
Lost in thought, a hand reached out and gently stroked her face with affection. The other person's refined and gentle aura was particularly clear to Shen Lixia at this moment, making her feel an urge to bury herself in it.
The next moment, Qiao Yanshen pulled her into his arms.
She slightly pulled open her blouse, revealing just the back of her shoulder. Shen Lixia pressed closer to her, his lips gently caressing that small patch of soft skin, opening and closing slightly, as if engaged in a fierce struggle, suppressing some kind of desire.
Qiao Yanshen sighed softly, his fingertips plunging into her loose hair, gently combing it.
The boy kissed her shoulder, pressing his burning heat against it. Sensing her trembling, extremely vulnerable state due to pain, Qiao Yanshen patted her back and gently coaxed her:
"Take a bite."
It can help to distract you from the pain.
When Shen Lixia pressed her teeth against her skin, she said gently, "If you bite too hard, I will punish you."
Her already burning ears turned even redder, almost to the point of bleeding, because of her ambiguous and gentle words. After hesitating for a long time, Shen Lixia finally couldn't resist the urge to peck at someone like a little bird, and bit down slightly.
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The author says: I did some research and asked some friends who keep birds, and I learned that bird pecking can be quite painful.
However, Xia will be careful (?).
Building a nest is also a bird's instinct, a manifestation of maternal instinct... It's not exclusive to any particular setting, and please don't confuse them...! I don't like that setting.
The little bird is going to grow wings.
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