When Chen Yi stopped, Zhou Yitang stepped into the courtyard. She glanced at Chen Yi and said:
"Practicing swordsmanship again?"
Her tone was indifferent, neither warm nor cold.
"Just passing the time."
Chen Yi did not hurry to sheath his sword. Instead, he slowed down his movements and held the sword in a poised stance, saying:
"I humbly ask Master for guidance."
The one-armed woman looked at his sweat-soaked tunic.
Still claiming he was just passing the time,
yet he was drenched in sweat—who knows how many hours he'd been practicing?
Zhou Yitang shook her head, letting out a faint laugh, and countered:
"Oh, really just passing the time?"
Chen Yi blinked, paused his movements, and lowered his head with a theatrical sigh:
"Not exactly. I was thinking of a girl. She's very pretty and, like you, fond of swordsmanship. So, I thought I'd practice the Yinzai Sword a bit more, to present her with skill as an offering and seek her favor."
