Chapter 18: Trials on the Journey

The journey of the grandfather and granddaughter was less about hurrying along the road and more like a mobile challenge, ready to begin at any moment, with rules as strange and varied as they were unpredictable.

Bai He, the teacher, conducted his lessons with complete freedom, and the tests he devised were often so tricky they made one's teeth itch.

After the race along the ridge and valley, the next day, he conjured up a new twist.

"Xiangxiang, do you see that flock of geese flying south on the horizon?" Bai He pointed to the long line stretching across the sky.

Bai Chenxiang was leaning against a rock, massaging her aching calves with effort. The ninety-pound load she carried felt like a second skeleton, constantly challenging her limits.

Hearing the question, she glanced up briefly and gave a faint "hmm."

"Today, we won’t compete on speed but on who hides better," Bai He said with a mischievous smile. "From here to that Twin Peak ahead is about thirty miles. If I can spot you even once from the sky during that stretch, you lose."

Bai Chenxiang raised an eyebrow slightly. "What happens if I lose?"

"If you lose..." Bai He stroked his chin, pretending to ponder for a moment, "you’ll have to lend me your meteor gauntlets for two days."

The corner of Bai Chenxiang’s eye twitched almost imperceptibly.

She had long suspected that her grandfather had coveted those treasured gauntlets of hers for some time. The way he looked at them was like a child eyeing a rare toy, but constrained by his elder status, he couldn’t just take them outright—so he tried to win them by cunning.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stood up, dusted off her clothes calmly, and asked, "Grandpa, what exactly are you trying to teach me?"

Bai He was momentarily taken aback, not expecting the girl to switch into lecture mode again.

Clearing his throat, he adopted a mysterious air: "Of course, I’m teaching you concealment and stealth. A top-tier agile soul master must be swift as the wind and silent as a virgin. Knowing how to blend into your surroundings lets you strike the deadliest blow at the crucial moment. This is the way of the assassin."

Bai Chenxiang listened quietly, then shook her head.

"Not entirely right," she said.

"Oh?" Bai He’s interest was piqued. "Then tell me, what’s wrong?"

"The way of the assassin is hiding in form. For example, hiding behind a tree, blending into a shadow, using visual blind spots to conceal yourself. This method works against ordinary people, but against true masters, especially perceptive soul masters, it’s not very useful."

Her gaze drifted skyward again.

"Wind has no fixed shape."

She extended a finger, feeling the breeze brushing through the forest.

"What I want to learn isn’t how to hide myself so you can’t see me."

"But how to let the wind hide me."

"So that even if you see me, you think I’m just an ordinary stone, a common blade of grass, or a passing gust of wind in these mountains."

"I want to hide not my form, but my intent."

The smile on Bai He’s face slowly froze.

He stared at his granddaughter, at those eyes that seemed capable of piercing the very essence of all things.

Hiding form and hiding intent—one word apart, yet worlds apart in mastery.

What he spoke of was skill, experience.

What she described touched the realm of the Way.

He suddenly felt a bit weary. Teaching his granddaughter felt less like instruction and more like attending a metaphysical debate.

His decades of experience were dismantled piece by piece by her new, seemingly outrageous yet irrefutable theories.

"Alright, alright, you’re the expert in reasoning," Bai He said, slightly embarrassed and angry, waving his hand.

"Form or intent, just don’t let me catch you!"

Before his words faded, he lightly tapped the ground with his feet and shot upward like a weightless feather.

The sharp-tailed swift soul behind him glimmered and vanished, his figure flickering a few times before becoming a tiny black dot against the sky.

Bai Chenxiang watched her grandfather disappear and smiled faintly.

She didn’t rush into the dense forest but closed her eyes, entering that wondrous “wind language” state again.

This time, she didn’t simply analyze the terrain or seek shortcuts.

She emptied her mind completely, trying to merge with the surrounding wind.

Her breathing became as long and gentle as the breeze’s flow.

Her heartbeat seemed to synchronize with the rustling of leaves in the forest.

The ninety-pound burden was no longer a weight, but an anchor holding her firmly between heaven and earth, allowing her to perceive clearly how the light currents flowed around her like a stubborn stone.

After an unknown length of time, she opened her eyes again.

The world seemed different in her perception.

She could still see the contours of rocks and shapes of trees, but more often she heard the distinct sounds the wind made as it passed through them.

She stepped forward.

This time, she abandoned any cunning routes.

Her path was nearly a straight line, heading directly toward the Twin Peak.

Above, Bai He circled like a true eagle, his sharp gaze scanning the forest below like a searchlight, inch by inch.

With his eyesight, he could spot not only a person but even a twitching rabbit’s ear in the grass.

“Hmph, little girl, try and outsmart me,” he thought proudly, searching carefully.

Soon, he spotted a small figure in a thicket.

The figure moved very slowly, with awkward posture, stopping every few steps as if observing something.

“Got you!” Bai He rejoiced, diving down like a black lightning bolt toward the figure.

But as he approached, he realized it wasn’t Bai Chenxiang at all.

It was a monkey wearing a few ragged strips of cloth, swaying in the wind!

The monkey shrieked in fright, dropped the half-eaten wild fruit in its hand, and fled into the woods in a panic.

Bai He’s face darkened; he had been tricked.

He soared again, continuing his search.

He soon found several more suspicious targets.

Once, he saw a corner of black fabric behind a rock. Quietly creeping around to catch the culprit, he found only Bai Chenxiang’s coat hanging on a branch.

Beneath the coat, crookedly arranged with twigs, were two characters: Grandpa.

Another time, he sensed a faint soul energy fluctuation and thought Bai Chenxiang was resting there. Rushing over, he saw only a feather stuck in the ground—the very one he had dropped yesterday.

Bai He was driven in circles in the sky, nearly bursting with frustration.

This girl had mastered the art of feints from warfare, turning illusion into reality and reality into illusion.

Using these little tricks, she successfully diverted his attention from finding her to figuring out which was the real trap.

Meanwhile, the true Bai Chenxiang was strolling calmly along a mountain stream.

Her steps were slow, each footfall pressing into the damp earth beside the creek, leaving clear prints.

She didn’t even bother to hide her form, walking openly in the relatively open terrain.

The most dangerous place was often the safest.

Her grandfather’s attention had been drawn to the decoys scattered in the dense woods on either side, making him overlook this most obvious and least likely hiding spot.

More importantly, her state at this moment was extraordinary.

As she walked, she used the “wind language” to sense Bai He’s position in the sky and the turbulent airflow caused by his dives and ascents.

Like a chess player, her grandfather was her opponent in the sky, and the entire forest was her chessboard.

She anticipated each of his moves and responded in advance.

This was no longer a simple game of hide and seek but a silent psychological battle spanning miles.