My Xianxia Harem Life-Chapter 384 Knowledge

Elder Iris returned to the Sacred Heart Sword Sect that day, her steps slow and heavy.

The mountain winds brushed against her long violet robes, carrying with them the faint scent of blooming spirit orchids.

Yet even their fragrance couldn't calm her restless mind.

"Even with my ultimate sword moves… Riley easily overcomes them—with his fists. No… with his palms," Iris muttered under her breath, her voice almost drowned by the rustle of the wind.

She could still see it so clearly in her mind—the battle that had carved itself into her very soul.

It was months ago, when she had challenged Riley to a duel beneath the crimson skies of a broken land away from people.

Back then, she was confident. Her cultivation had reached the pinnacle of the Primordial Dao Fragment Realm, and her blade techniques were said to be unmatched under heaven.

She believed that no one of her generation could withstand even a single strike from her sword.

But Riley had proven her wrong—utterly and completely.

"Honestly, my strongest techniques are my palm arts. Prepare yourself, Iris. I don't want you dying by accident," he had said in that calm, almost casual tone.

She had thought it arrogance.

How could mere palms stand against the culmination of a lifetime devoted to the sword?

Yet when she saw it—when that palm descended—she understood.

There was no escaping such power.

The sky itself had darkened, the world trembling as if rejecting the existence of that technique.

Space folded, time distorted; it felt as though reality itself bowed before that single strike.

Nothing else mattered in that instant—no sword, no defense, not even thought.

Only that palm existed, vast and inevitable, blotting out heaven and earth.

To resist it head-on was folly… but that was exactly what Iris did.

Driven by pride and instinct, she unleashed her strongest technique—the "Heavenly Sword Fall."

A rain of countless sword lights filled the sky, each capable of severing mountains and splitting oceans.

Yet when they met Riley's palm, all her brilliance shattered like glass.

The impact sent her crashing across the valley, her bones cracking, her meridians torn apart.

Blood filled her vision, and for the first time in centuries, she felt fear—raw and suffocating.

When she awoke, she found herself lying beneath a spirit tree, her body trembling and her cultivation on the verge of collapse.

Riley was there, standing quietly beside her, looking neither proud nor apologetic.

"You shouldn't have taken it head-on," he had said, his tone as calm as ever.

"You would've died if I hadn't held back."

Then, without another word, he handed her a small, luminous fruit.

The moment she bit into it, a rush of divine energy flooded her body, knitting her shattered meridians, restoring her qi, mending even the wounds in her soul.

Within a week, she was whole again.

Without that fruit, she knew her recovery would have taken at least a hundred thousand years—if she survived at all.

Now, standing once again at the Sacred Heart Sword Sect's main peak, Iris looked up at the distant sky, where clouds drifted lazily across the heavens.

Her sword aura flickered faintly around her, unstable and restless.

"Riley Rice…" she whispered, clenching her hand over the hilt of her sword.

"Even with everything I've learned, even with centuries of training… I still can't see the limit of your strength."

The wind howled through the mountains, carrying away her words, but deep within her heart, a seed had been planted—not of fear, but of determination.

She would surpass him.

No matter what it took.

***

Iris returned to the Rice Clan, her steps light but her heart uncertain.

She had wanted to see Riley again—perhaps to challenge him, or perhaps for something she couldn't quite name.

Yet when she arrived, he wasn't training or meditating like she expected.

He was in the courtyard, surrounded by laughter.

"Father! Me next!" a young girl shouted excitedly, holding a wooden sword almost as tall as she was.

Riley chuckled and ruffled her hair before adjusting her grip with patient care.

Two other children—boys who looked a little older—were watching, cheering their sister on with gleeful energy.

Riley had three children now, and though their movements were clumsy, he treated their little practice swings with the seriousness of a master instructing disciples.

His tone was gentle but precise, his eyes bright with affection.

"Not like that," he said softly. "Keep your stance firm—yes, just like that. Remember, the sword isn't for showing off. It's for protecting."

His words struck Iris deeper than she expected. Protecting.

She had heard countless masters speak about swords, power, and glory—but never with that kind of warmth.

The man who had once defeated her so effortlessly now stood there teaching children how to swing wooden blades, as if that was the most natural thing in the world.

The sight made Iris's chest tighten.

She found herself watching longer than she should have, unable to look away from the easy grace in his movements, or the joy on his children's faces.

For the first time in an age, she wondered—how would it feel to have something like that?

A home. A family. Children who called her "Mother."

"This…" she muttered, shaking her head sharply, as though she could dispel the thought by force.

But the harder she tried to suppress it, the clearer it became—like a dream refusing to fade.

She had lived for more than a million years. She had fought demons, gods, and even her own heart.

She had been defeated, yes—but each defeat had only driven her to cultivate harder, to rise again and prove that Iris of the Sacred Heart Sword Sect bowed to no one.

And yet here she was, standing still, her heart in disarray because of one man who wasn't even trying to impress her.

The laughter of Riley's children echoed through the courtyard.

A small boy stumbled as he swung, and Riley caught him effortlessly, lifting him high into the air.

The boy's laughter rang out like music.

Something warm welled up inside Iris's chest—soft, unfamiliar, almost frightening in its gentleness.

She took a slow breath, her gaze softening.

"I guess I've finally found my match in this life," she whispered under her breath.

Her words carried a quiet conviction—not of rivalry, but of acceptance.

And as she smiled, a delicate, genuine smile touched her lips, brighter than the sun filtering through the courtyard trees.

For a woman who had seen the rise and fall of countless eras, that single, fleeting moment of longing made her more beautiful than ever before.

Still, since Iris was a cautious cultivator, she returned that night to cultivate in seclusion.

Even though Riley's words and actions seemed genuine, something within her refused to take them at face value.

She had seen too many so-called geniuses and righteous men hide dark ambitions behind gentle smiles.

She sat cross-legged in the center of her meditation chamber, her spiritual sense extending through every corner of her body.

Streams of sword intent flowed around her like silent currents, sharp yet serene.

She searched for the faintest trace of foreign qi, any disturbance that might suggest an external influence.

Was he truly that pure-hearted? she wondered. Or have I simply been blinded?

Riley's calm eyes and confident smile kept resurfacing in her mind no matter how she tried to focus.

Each time she pushed his image away, it returned with greater clarity—the way he stood unshaken against her strongest sword technique, the effortless grace with which he fought, and that strange warmth she felt when he spoke her name.

She clenched her fists, frustrated.

"No... this isn't me," she muttered under her breath. "I can't afford to be deceived by mere charm."

Days turned into weeks.

The outside world forgot her presence as she delved deeper into meditation, peeling apart every thread of her soul sense, every ripple of spiritual power within her dantian.

There were no distortions, no strange imprints, no lingering marks of soul control or enchantment.

And yet, the more she searched, the more she realized—what she felt for Riley was not imposed upon her.

It came from within.

After a full month, Iris finally opened her eyes. Her cultivation chamber was dimly lit, dust motes floating lazily in the air. Her expression softened.

"So… he really hasn't done anything to me," she said quietly, exhaling a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Relief and something else—something tender and uncertain—stirred within her chest.

For the first time in weeks, her heart felt light.

She stood, adjusting her robes, and gazed out at the horizon beyond her mountain peak.

The dawn light spread across the world, painting the clouds gold and crimson. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

With her doubts cleared, there was no longer any reason to hold back.

Her hesitation vanished like mist under the morning sun.

"I've delayed long enough," she whispered. "It's time to see him again."

Without another moment's pause, Iris summoned her sword, stepping onto its gleaming blade.

A rush of wind swept through her hair as she soared into the sky, heading straight toward the Rice Clan's city.