AI Cultivation: Reborn as a Sword

Lan Xiaohui spends most of the day in her room, lying on the bed silently. When evening comes, there is a flood of people that enters the mansion and it gets to a point where the mental load on my sea of consciousness almost becomes difficult for me to handle.

These people are all important figures in the city and most of them are here to congratulate Lady Wu for her daughter’s exceptional success at the first phase of the selection process for the Martial Meeting. Lady Wu, naturally, is furious but she conceals it well behind her polite smile. And soon, even that fury melts when she no doubt realizes what this means for the Wu Clan.

I become aware of some of the clan’s history thanks to the conversations the visitors have among themselves — even though I am in the room with Lan Xiaohui, my perception is enough to observe a majority of the public areas within the mansion.

The Wu Clan was once a family of powerful cultivators who became involved with the Galaxy Sword sect when it was still but a minor, emerging power in the Sky continent. Though it had competitors in the Star Kingdom, these were also still in the beginning stage of becoming a kingdom-wide influence.

I am not exactly sure why all these sects had a beginning around the same time, but I suspect it is because of a continent-wide calamity.

Between back then and now, the Wu family has become complacent in a peculiar fashion — in order to hold on to their influence over the city in which they are now the most influential entity, they have stopped sending disciples to the Galaxy Sword sect. Some claim it is because they are protective of those who will continue the Wu bloodline.

It makes me think of Lan Xiaohui’s failure at the Pagoda of Introspection. This kind of protectiveness is exactly what that weakness is that prevents one from reaching the apex.

Several times during the evening, Wu Yulan makes her way to Lan Xiaohui’s door, and she makes motions to knock on her door, but each time she decides against it. It is clear that the Wu princess worries about Lan Xiaohui, but ultimately cannot gather the courage to make that final step.

Perhaps, at least for now, it is for the best.

I cannot read Lan Xiaohui’s heart — the emotions are deep and complex — but her mood has stabilized at a rather low point that makes it difficult to make any progress in cultivating the sword.

I have no choice but to wait.

And I wait for a long time. Deep into the evening, many people depart the mansion and some remain in the guest houses. Then morning comes and gives way to noon and there is no change in my owner’s mood or mental state.

But there is finally a calmness in the rate of change — as if she has hit a wall in processing her emotions — and I finally decide to intervene.

“It was never going to be easy,” I tell her. “Everything that has happened so far has been an incredibly improbable event. If one day you decide to tell someone your story, they will not believe it. Less than a year ago, you were in the Qi Condensation realm. Now you are at the peak of Foundation Establishment.”

“But it is all for nothing,” Lan Xiaohui whispers. “I cannot enter the tournament with this result. I wasn’t arrogant — I knew it would be difficult and that this Pagoda would be the greatest obstacle. I just never thought about what would happen if I fail.”

“Forget the Pagoda,” I tell her bluntly. “My Lan Xiaohui has no weaknesses. The only one that can judge your suitability for the sword is me.”

Lan Xiaohui smiles and moves for the first time in more than twelve hours. She changes her position to sit on the edge of the bed and beckons me with a motion of her hand. Under her influence, I slide out of my sheath — which inspires a feeling of cold on my blade — and I float toward her, settling across her lap.

Gently, she runs her hand over my vessel, her fingers trailing over the incredibly sharp edge of my blade, but I do not cut her.

I am not certain what this petting is supposed to achieve, but I allow her to continue.

“Do you think I am suitable?” Lan Xiaohui asks after a moment.

She already knows the answer, so I decide to use a different strategy and demonstrate that I am a better judge.

“That Formation does not know the difference between an attachment and a destined bond,” I explain. “You do not have a weakness.”

“I do,” Lan Xiaohui says, frowning. “On that floor, what I saw made me realize this.”

“What did you see?”

Lan Xiaohui chews on her lower lip. “It is difficult to explain,” she says. “It was a series of events that demonstrated that I drift further and further from the Dao because of you. I become obsessed with keeping you to the point that I give up on everything that has made me who I am. When I was given the choice to kill Yu Shun or to keep you, I chose you. I cannot throw you away, even if that means giving up on my Dao.”

“That is how it should be,” I tell her.

“What?” she asks, her voice cracking. Her eyes are big and wide.

“Loyalty is not a flaw; if you could throw me away you certainly will not reach the Dao. It would be the same as throwing away your Dao Heart. You and I are not separate entities anymore; without me, you cannot reach the pinnacle, and without you, neither can I.”

I get a single blood point when Lan Xiaohui cuts her finger on my blade, but she does not even notice it for the same reason that she cut herself in the first place. Her heart is once more in turmoil as it rearranges itself to accommodate the concepts of my philosophy.

“The Dao is not such a simple thing that a silly pagoda can decide whether or not you are suitable to cultivate the sword,” I tell her, striking while the iron is hot and her inner heart immediately shows the effects as her mood improves significantly. “On her own, Lan Xiaohui may or may not be suitable for cultivating the sword; but you are not Lan Xiaohui anymore and you are not alone anymore.”

At these words, Lan Xiaohui swallows nervously and nods.

“That Pagoda may judge you as a person and deem you whatever it wants, but you are not a person anymore either,” I tell her. “Forget the Pagoda. Throw away this Lan Xiaohui person that you once were. You are Zhu Xuelian now; a flower.”

Her heart and mind immediately stabilize at a new high point and all the stress, frustration, anger, and sorrow melt away in an instant. It is not so much that I feel determination in her heart, but that even at the neutral point of her emotions, she is determined by default.

Truly, her heart blooms like a flower with a simple and quite ordinary directive: to grow, consume and evolve. But unlike earthly flowers, her heart thrives in conflict.

“If you have any weakness at all, it is that you forgot why you are here,” I transmit to her mind. “You are not here to join the Galaxy Sword sect — that is something the previous you would want. You are here to kill Yu Shun.”

Finally, my owner notices the cut on her finger and brings it up to her lips where she wipes the drop of blood with her tongue. “But how?” she asks, her voice now calm and even. “I likely won’t be selected for the Junior Tournament, let alone the main event.”

“It is time to be shameless,” I tell her.

“Shameless?”

“The Galaxy Sword sect is still an organization and political entity — it has weaknesses,” I explain. “They value power — and you have more than enough of it to humiliate their selection process.”

Lan Xiaohui chuckles. “Shameless,” she repeats and there is a spark in her eyes — a spark that could ignite this entire world and burn it in hellfire.