Reborn as the Weakest Heiress, I Gave My Inheritance to the Enemy's Daughter novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Dawn Sword

Linxia teaches her sword at dawn and pins her to the grass, and Ning interrupts with breakfast and a remark about the Master's letters; Zhaoxue admits she fears her own sect's walls.

"I didn't flinch," Zhaoxue said.

"You did."

"He startled me."

"He called your name three times from the stairs, and you heard him on the second."

Zhaoxue stared at the east gate.

Down in the courtyard, two disciples were sweeping the stones in the last light.

She could say it was nothing, and Linxia would let it go tonight, and ask again tomorrow.

"I'll tell you something else tomorrow," she said. "Not tonight."

"Tomorrow, then," Linxia said. "Dawn. Bring a sword."

"I told you, I can't..."

"Bring a sword."

At dawn the practice yard behind the guest courtyard was wet with dew and smelled of cut pine.

Zhaoxue arrived with a wooden sword, because she did not own a real one.

Her father had said a weak heiress with a sharp blade was just a funeral waiting to happen.

Linxia was already there, barefoot on the grass, with her own black blade standing point-down in the earth beside her.

She had tied her sleeves back, and her forearms were long and hard and marked with old nicks.

"Stand like this," she said.

Zhaoxue stood the way she was told.

"No. Your hips."

"They're fine."

"They're facing the wrong country."

She came around behind, put her hands on Zhaoxue's hips and turned them a quarter of an inch.

Her thumbs pressed in just above the belt.

Zhaoxue forgot what a hip was for.

"Now the wrist."

Linxia's hand slid down her arm and closed over hers on the wooden grip.

Zhaoxue could feel the callus at the base of her finger and the pulse in her palm.

"Hold it like a bird," Linxia said. "Not so hard it dies. Not so soft it flies."

"That's the worst advice I've ever heard."

"My father says it. It's not meant to be good, it's meant to be remembered."

They worked for an hour, step and cut and step.

Linxia lent her heat through her palm whenever Zhaoxue's arms began to shake.

Then Zhaoxue tried the cut Linxia had just shown her.

She swung too early and stepped on her own hem.

She fell forward into Linxia, who caught her by the waist.

Linxia took one step, and both of them went down on the wet grass.

Zhaoxue landed on her back.

Linxia was above her, one knee on either side of her hips.

Her ponytail swung forward over her shoulder.

The black sword was still in her hand, pinned flat in the grass beside Zhaoxue's ear.

The red cord fell across Zhaoxue's cheek.

They were both breathing hard.

Linxia's eyes were very dark, with a ring of brown at the edge.

The scar in her eyebrow was pale and small, and Zhaoxue wanted to touch it.

"You fell on purpose," Linxia said.

"I did not."

"Then you're a natural."

Her gaze dropped to Zhaoxue's mouth, and stayed there.

Zhaoxue's mouth opened a little without being asked.

The world got very small.

There was a wet leaf stuck to her shoulder, and a bird shouting somewhere in the pines.

Linxia leaned down by an inch.

"Shimei!" Ning Zhiyuan called across the yard.

They both jerked.

Linxia was on her feet in one motion, hauling Zhaoxue up with her, brushing grass from her sleeve.

Ning came around the corner of the wall carrying a covered basket, his gray robe neat, his key ring jingling.

"There you are," he said. "I brought breakfast. Rice porridge with ginger. You skipped dinner."

"Thank you," Zhaoxue said.

Her voice was too high.

He looked at the grass on her robe, at Linxia's flushed face, and then smiled.

"Practicing already," he said. "I'm glad. Someone should have taught you years ago."

He set the basket on a stone bench.

"The east shed is cleared for the Gathering stores," he said. "And I've put the Master's letters in order, all of them.

"Shall I bring the ones from the last two years, in case the Mo envoy wants to read the old correspondence?"

"I keep every one," he added. "The Master's hands are so bad now.

"I write them and I file them, and I could tell you what any of them says."

"That's kind of you," Linxia said politely.

"It's nothing. Someone has to."

He bowed to them both and went away.

Linxia watched his back until it was gone.

Then she lifted the cloth off the basket and looked at the porridge.

"I'll eat it first," she said.

"Why?"

"Because you flinch when he comes near. And I would like to know what you know that I don't."

She took a spoon, ate half the bowl and handed it to Zhaoxue.

It was only porridge.

Zhaoxue ate the rest, and her hand shook only a little.

"Now," Linxia said. "It's tomorrow."

Zhaoxue put the bowl down.

The sun had come over the east wall.

She could see the roof of the Quiet Courtyard, and the gate beyond it, and the long drop between.

"I'm afraid of this place," she said.

"Cloud Pine."

"The walls. The gate. The people who walk through it." Her voice tightened.

"I was born here, and I know every stone, and I don't know who opens the gate."

Linxia looked at her for a long time.

"Then we'll watch it together," she said. "Tonight. From the roof."

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