There was a part of her that wanted to stop him in the middle of his speech, tell him that she didn't shoulder the heaviness of her dear mother's memory quite as much as before. Save for the nightmares, she did not often give much room for the woman to occupy. Instead, she agreed to take his advice and clung to the comfort she received from him. His words were not sharp, pointed, blaming of her in any manner. In that instance, she almost thought he appeared with a degree of sensitivity and care for her. Jǐngyán did not allow the thought to linger too long, given how little they knew of each other still.
His grandfather? Her brows wrinkled together, as she wondered what would ever warrant an occasion to meet his close kin. Hours ago, there was even a mention that she was free to leave once they were done with the rebels' business. Again, she maintained any of her remarks at bay.
By now, Jǐnyán had been wandering for quite awhile since leaving her village. She, too, only occupied spaces in temporary measures. Yet, she still managed to find places she enjoyed more than others, even if she was only passing through. After casting a few glances here and there, she wondered if all of his shoulders shared the very same attitudes as the general. Did they, too, not find small pockets there that they could call their favorite?
As he gave the overview, a funny thought occurred to her: all teachers really enjoyed talking! It was nearly the same with her shīfù; she always thought he droned on more than needed. Now, she had reasoned that it was a pattern of the profession itself—of being a master. She did not feel she would ever feel up to the task, if it involved so much lecturing.
Her hands were ready, already responding in a way that defied so many of the lessons he had scolded her with. To make matters worse, he was not even putting all that much effort into countering her every move! After a few strikes and counters, she could see what he had been meaning to relay to her.. Every motion she made was reactionary, while he moved calmly and instinctively.
So, she stopped and took a breath. Closed her eyes for a moment, and followed her breaths for a few beats. When she reopened them, she found her focus shifted. Rather than seeing parts of him to target, she reframed her thoughts to find opportunity. Instead of planning use of both hands at once, she took a second longer to balance her moves. When he blocked her with one arm, then the other, she continued to use the rest of her limbs to get even closer in her offense. She was not as quick to guess the next move of her opponent the way he seemed to so easily anticipate, so she adjusted—worked on her strength rather than her weakness. Her speed.
Slowly but surely, with each new opening, she was growing a little. But it still frustrated her that she was not making more significant headway. Her chest was rising and falling at a pace that showed she was panting for air. Despite the clear struggle of her physical body, her mind told her she could not rest until–
Her hand was at his neck and in all of the sheer excitement of her success, her arms immediately fell limp. Jǐngyán was always relentless this way, refusing to stop until she had something tangible to show of her growth. She gasped for air, as both of her hands fell to her knees and looked back up at him. “You're a tough teacher,” she gasped through her hyperventilation.
