Chapter 32: The Good News Is That Bad News Isn't Too Bad-Escolha uma de três opções diariamente e torne-se um Espadachim Imortal Supremo(Quatro Bolos)

After Xu Ruyan left, for three consecutive days, Yang Le and Li Qi'er remained within their small courtyard, venturing nowhere else. As for Xu Ruyan's invitation for Yang Le to join her at Linghua Pavilion that night, he had cast it to the back of his mind. In fact, Yang Le had never taken the matter seriously at all.

For those three days, Yang Le's routine was simple: cultivation, sword practice, footwork training, and deep contemplation on how to teach Li Qi'er the way of the sword. In his original plan, regardless of Li Qi'er's motives for learning, once he had taught her, his goal would be met, and their master-disciple relationship—which was rooted in a transactional nature—would come to an end.

To Yang Le's immense surprise, after such diligent instruction, well... Li Qi'er’s ability to slice the yellow daylilies in the backyard had become increasingly sharp, but beyond that, there was zero progress. Yang Le fell into a pensive silence whenever he thought about it.

"I will teach her slowly; she will learn eventually." Unable to fathom the cause, he gave up on the thought and looked toward the yard, where Li Qi'er was staring at a cricket with genuine curiosity. *Dull or not, it doesn't matter. Having someone to banter with is quite nice.*

Unlike Yang Le, Li Qi'er had not been idle these past three days. Aside from her daily practice with the daylilies, she was constantly busy with unknown errands, vanishing from sight and dashing all over Linqing City. She carried a thick, crude iron sword on her back, looking thoroughly delighted. As for the progress of her swordsmanship, it was nonexistent, but her happiness was certainly real. The injury on her foot, which had lingered for so long, had finally healed during this period of rest. As for her inability to master Yang Le's sword techniques, Li Qi'er acted as if it had nothing to do with her; she showed no anxiety, finding joy in the process instead.

One day, unable to bear it, Yang Le asked why she remained so indifferent. Li Qi'er simply replied that sword cultivation was not something to be rushed. She even turned the tables and comforted Yang Le, insisting that the fact she could hold the sword at all was proof enough that her master's teaching was perfectly fine. At that moment, Yang Le didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Master, I have a piece of good news and a piece of bad news. Which would you like to hear?"
"The good news."
"The good news is that the bad news isn't actually that bad."

"And the bad news?"
"The bad news is that something has happened at Linghua Pavilion."

The next morning, as master and disciple sat eating breakfast, Li Qi'er brought news concerning Linghua Pavilion.

"What does trouble at Linghua Pavilion have to do with me?" Yang Le asked, puzzled. "I have absolutely no connection to that place."

"On the night after Xu Ruyan left, dozens of human cultivators from Linghua Pavilion launched a night raid on the Linqing Prefectural Office, attempting to assassinate Zhang Jun, the Prefect of Cizhou. They were discovered by the elite Cizhou troops, and the assassination attempt failed. Now, Linghua Pavilion is completely abandoned."

Seeing that his master was truly unaware, Li Qi'er recounted the rumors she had heard on the streets. She then looked at Yang Le with worry. "Master, don't forget, you received an invitation from Linghua Pavilion."

"So?" Yang Le exclaimed, shocked. "You don't mean that just because I received an invitation, they would consider me one of their own?"

"Yes. The entire city is hunting for their accomplices. I'm afraid the Cizhou officials might target you." Li Qi'er nodded, her eyes filled with helplessness. "It seems the Prefectural troops are using those invitation letters as the criteria to identify members of Linghua Pavilion."

"I knew that woman was no good." Having learned the truth, Yang Le's favor for Linghua Pavilion plummeted to rock bottom. He felt fortunate that he hadn't attended their so-called poetry gathering that night; otherwise, his hard-won, peaceful sanctuary would have been lost. Having an invitation card was enough to make one a rebel; had he actually attended, he would have undoubtedly been branded as one.

A thought crossed Yang Le's mind: *The more beautiful a person is, the more dangerous they become.* He glanced at Li Qi'er. She was as flat as an airfield, with a cute face, delicate skin, and a spark of liveliness in her eyes, but she could only be called "cute"—she had nothing to do with being "stunningly beautiful."

"How did you handle the invitation?"
"I scraped off the gold leaf and traded it for three pounds of beef, which are already in our bellies. The rest of the paper was burned to ashes."
"Did anyone see Xu Ruyan come to find me?"
"No one saw her. Our courtyard is secluded, and there wasn't a soul around when she arrived."

Hearing this, Yang Le's anxiety eased slightly. Since no one had witnessed their meeting and the evidence had been turned to dust, surely no one would notice him.

"Thankfully, things haven't reached the worst-case scenario." Yang Le felt a sense of relief, and Li Qi'er nodded along. Without evidence, how could the Cizhou authorities possibly claim his master was a rebel?

"Xu Ruyan is here to pay a visit, with a request."

Before they could even stand, a familiar voice drifted into the yard. It was Xu Ruyan’s voice, but the tone was entirely different from their first meeting. Back then, she had been radiant, her voice filled with confidence and a free spirit. Now, however, Yang Le heard only weakness.

"Master, trouble has arrived," Li Qi'er whispered, looking toward the source of the voice. "She is severely wounded, but there is no one else around."

"If trouble arrives, we deal with it."

Xu Ruyan could only be described as tragic. Her once confident, vibrant crimson dress was now filthy and stained with blood. Her elegant, elaborate headpiece was disheveled, and her long hair flowed in tangles. Most shocking was the deep, gaping gash running from her thigh to her calf.

She was the very picture of a broken, tragic beauty, leaning against the courtyard fence, her eyes filled with pitiful longing as she looked at Yang Le. Yang Le merely looked her up and down before drawing his sword.

"You shouldn't have come here." He stepped forward, towering over her with a cold, murderous gaze, showing no mercy. "Coming here is just a death sentence."

As he spoke, he drew his sword halfway from its scabbard, his intent icy.

"I want to live." Xu Ruyan was slightly taken aback by his decisiveness. She did not hesitate, holding up a sword-shaped jade pendant before him. "Will this be enough to trade for my life?"