Category: The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration]

Chapter 55: Disciple and Wife p2

Cen Dianshuang occasionally came down to offer guidance, but most of the time, Tao Ning cultivated alone, understanding the importance of strength in the cultivation world. After her daily practice, she would seek out Cen Dianshuang.

She wasn’t one to shy away from learning. She intended to absorb as much knowledge as possible in this world.

With multiple responsibilities, she was a busy disciple.

Cen Dianshuang would look at her with a mixture of exasperation and affection. She remembered her senior siblings’ warnings against excessive doting, but couldn’t bring herself to refuse her disciple’s attention. She gave her a communication bell.

“If you need me, just ring this. The path up the mountain is long and dangerous for someone with your cultivation level.”

Besides, her cave dwelling wasn’t ready for visitors. It was still… spartan. It would be embarrassing.

She was finally learning the meaning of “setting an example,” understanding why her senior siblings presented a different face in public.

Tao Ning, instead of returning to her room, headed towards the kitchen. As she entered, a small fireball shot past her face.

Walking towards the table, she said calmly, “If you burn anything, I’ll ask my master to douse you with Thousand-Year Ice Water. It’s the perfect counter to your Flame Dragon breath.”

The fireball stopped mid-flight, retreating back into the furnace.

The Flame Dragon Furnace had indeed developed a spirit. Confined within Cen Dianshuang’s storage ring for so long, it was now thriving under Tao Ning’s care, its sentience growing daily.

Tao Ning, preparing ingredients with her back to the furnace, continued, “The Flame Dragons are extinct in the Radiant Realm. You’re the last ember. Don’t ask how I know. I knew how you were created the moment I saw you.”

The flames flickered, like a child caught between defiance and curiosity.

Tao Ning wasn’t swayed. “If you don’t cooperate, your spirit is unnecessary. I can nurture you, and I can destroy you. Don’t underestimate me just because my cultivation is low. You can test me if you like.”

This combination of threat and promise subdued the unruly furnace.

Arriving at the window, the snow-white bundle almost didn’t recognize the obedient Flame Dragon Furnace, its flames now under Tao Ning’s control.

“Well, well. Look who it is. The ungrateful little thing.”

Tao Ning, meditating in a chair, opened her eyes, surprised to see the familiar white bundle.

The bundle, drawn by the aroma, had intended to leave before she woke up, but now it was frozen.

Then, realizing what Tao Ning had said, its beady eyes narrowed in anger.

You’re the ungrateful one!

“It really is you.” Tao Ning was certain now. No other bird had such a volatile temper.

She stood up, lifting the lid of a steaming bamboo basket. A sweet aroma filled the air, accompanied by a cloud of white steam.

She picked up a molten custard bun, placing it aside to cool.

The bundle, about to leave, hesitated, captivated by the scent, tilting its head to observe the girl’s back.

What is she doing?

Did she burn herself? Or is she just impatient?

What is that golden thing?

Tao Ning wasn’t burned. She was simply remembering her previous life, her wife, who, despite her youthful appearance, had the tastes of an old man, indifferent to sweets, except for molten custard buns, a childhood favorite. Tao Ning had learned to make them just for her.

Sitting down with the plate of buns, she beckoned to the bird. “How did you get in? Didn’t the formation stop you? I suspected you belonged to someone. Are you being raised by someone in the Hanshan Sect?”

The bundle, hopping onto the edge of the plate, sensing the warmth of the buns, pretended not to understand, tilting its head from side to side.

They looked like steamed buns, but softer, finer, made with spiritual rice flour. Clearly made with care.

In short, tempting.

“Want one?” Tao Ning pulled the plate away just as the bird was about to peck at a bun. The bundle ruffled its feathers in frustration.

“You’re shedding feathers again. Look, another one.” Tao Ning bent down to pick it up.

The bundle puffed up its feathers, settling onto the table, its unspoken thoughts forming a giant “ungrateful disciple” sign above its head.

Holding the tiny feather between her fingers, Tao Ning examined it closely. “Such a small feather. Are you a chick?”

The bundle bristled, its feathers radiating indignation.

“You won’t even chirp for me. You just eat and leave. They say even a small kindness should be repaid. You’re so tiny, I don’t expect much, just a single chirp.”

The bundle didn’t understand Tao Ning’s obsession with its chirping. What difference did it make?

No one would recognize its species anyway.

“You’ve forced my hand,” Tao Ning declared.

The bundle, remembering Tao Ning’s penchant for mischief, especially when unsupervised, considered leaving.

Tao Ning: “I heard a song while traveling. It’s considered the national anthem of the bird world. It’s called the ‘Happy Clapping Song.’”

The bundle hesitated, intrigued. It had never heard of such a song. Its library contained thousands of musical scores, but none with that title.

It was probably some vulgar tune. Few songs were unknown to a Music Cultivator, but it was curious to see what Tao Ning was up to.

Tao Ning, instead of singing, picked up a cooled bun and tore it open, the golden custard oozing out like lava, still steaming.

Nothing special, yet the bundle was captivated, its desire evident.

Tao Ning tore off a small piece, dipping it in the custard, and placed it on the plate, humming softly. “Here. It’s not poisoned. I’m giving the rest away later.”

The bundle, initially hesitant, hearing the words “giving away,” immediately hopped over and began eating.

If it was meant for someone else, it definitely deserved a taste. A large taste.

Tao Ning continued humming, offering small pieces of the bun, tapping her fingers on the table at the end of each line. “If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands…”

After a while, another sound joined her humming.

A soft, short, “Chirp, chirp.”

The bundle, not realizing it had made a sound, continued eating.

Tao Ning froze, her hand hovering over the plate. As the bundle looked up at her with confusion in its beady eyes, she spoke. “You’re a Shangxi bird.”

The bundle tilted its head, its tail twitching, feigning ignorance.

Tao Ning continued, adding details that made the bird’s heart flutter nervously. “You’re a Shangxi chick. Your chirping brings good fortune, dispels heart demons, and summons rain clouds. You’re considered an auspicious bird, bringing bountiful harvests. But your song can also suppress heart demons, which is why your kind is nearly extinct.”

She pointed towards the window. “Haven’t you noticed? It’s raining. A light drizzle.”

The only response was the flapping of wings as the bird vanished.

Tao Ning, staring at the empty plate and scattered crumbs, frowned. “Strange.”

520: 【What’s strange?】

Tao Ning, her arms crossed, said, “The original storyline barely mentioned Shangxi birds. It only said the protagonist wanted one as a pet, but none of his followers could find one. Even the Demonic Beast Realm princess who adored him said they were extinct.”

Yet a live Shangxi chick was regularly visiting her for snacks.

520, after a moment of contemplation, asked, 【Is there a problem?】

Tao Ning’s expression turned serious. “Yes.”

520 was alarmed. 【What is it?】

Tao Ning pushed herself away from the table. “I’m hungry. Time to summon Master for a taste of my molten custard buns.”

520: …Sometimes I don’t understand your sudden devotion to your master.

Cen Dianshuang, halfway down the mountain, hearing the bell, looked at the steaming buns in the basket: “…”

She hadn’t intended to come, but after establishing a routine, breaking it would only fuel Tao Ning’s overactive imagination.

She hadn’t expected the buns to be for her. A thoughtful gesture.

But the mention of Shangxi birds…

Cen Dianshuang understood her senior sisters’ exhaustion. She was grateful her disciple didn’t know her master’s true nature.

In the Radiant Realm, beasts that took human form were considered demons.

Even an auspicious beast was still a demon.

Tao Ning couldn’t know. Not for any reason.

Tao Ning poured her some spiritual tea, then sat down, her voice cheerful. “Master, I made these pastries with spiritual rice flour. You can eat them, right?”

Cen Dianshuang: …Pastries? Are you trying to tell me to use my brain?

Looking at her disciple’s eager expression, she sighed deeply.

Being a master was hard.

Chapter 55: Disciple and Wife p1

News of Cen Dianshuang, the famously aloof elder who swore off disciples, taking on a student spread quickly through the Hanshan Sect, sparking curiosity about her first apprentice.

“Do you think she’ll attend the Academy?”

“Elder Cen is so busy, managing the Disciplinary Hall and traveling the world slaying demons. She’ll probably send her disciple to the Academy to learn the basics of cultivation from the teaching elders.”

“Elder Cen’s teaching methods must be rigorous.”

“I agree. She’ll probably be at the Academy for a while. We should try to befriend her.”

Cultivation was, after all, a personal journey. A master could guide, but ultimately, progress depended on the individual.

Direct disciples were considered core disciples, but a master with numerous students couldn’t possibly provide personalized instruction to each one. It would be exhausting.

Like the Sect Leader, she delegated most of the teaching to her other disciples, offering occasional guidance, sharing insights unavailable elsewhere.

Those who required more structured learning attended basic cultivation classes at the Academy, separate from the outer sect disciples.

Not to mention the difference in monthly stipends. These core disciples were, after all, the sect’s future.

“Just wait. Someone from Wangshu Peak will come for the disciple token soon. We’ll see her then,” said a disciple on duty at the Affairs Hall.

That made sense.

However, days turned into weeks, and the meticulously crafted direct disciple token remained unclaimed, gathering dust.

Wangshu Peak had only two occupants: Elder Cen and her disciple. They had no steward to manage such matters, often forgetting or overlooking minor details. No one wanted to bother Elder Cen unnecessarily.

So, the rumors shifted. From She’ll definitely be at the Academy for a while, to Elder Cen must be doting on her disciple, personally overseeing her training.

Such whispers sparked envy. Few were fortunate enough to receive a master’s undivided attention.

Tao Ning slipped out of Wangshu Peak unnoticed half a month later. Unable to fly on a sword, she bribed a crane with dried fish, securing transport.

The Affairs Hall was always bustling with disciples taking on missions, reporting their successes, and collecting their rewards and monthly stipends.

In the crowd, Tao Ning was inconspicuous.

She surveyed the hall, then approached a counter. The disciple behind it, busy writing, asked, “What do you need?”

Tao Ning: “Senior Brother, I’m here to collect the direct disciple token for Wangshu Peak.”

The disciple looked up in surprise. “Wangshu Peak?”

Tao Ning nodded. “I’m Tao Ning.”

She was ready to receive the token. Navigating the Hanshan Sect without one was inconvenient.

While core disciples could be distinguished from outer sect disciples by their robes and titles, the token was the most reliable identifier.

Those like Tao Ning, whose master hadn’t yet bestowed a title, or who preferred their own attire, were harder to distinguish.

The disciple’s eyes widened, and he waved his hands frantically. “Please, don’t call me Senior Brother. I’m your… grand-nephew.”

Tao Ning: “…Oh. Right.”

The disciple, relieved, said, “You’re here for the disciple token, right? I’ll find it for you.”

He retrieved a token from a shelf that reached the ceiling, placing it on the counter with a respectful bow. “Grand-Aunt, your token.”

Direct disciple tokens were crafted from a special type of polished spiritual stone, smooth and durable, perfect for everyday use.

Tao Ning took the token, listening to the disciple’s instructions. “As a new disciple, Grand-Aunt, there are a few things you should know. This token is unique to each disciple, bearing your master’s mark. You’ll need it for your monthly stipend, taking on missions, and so on. Don’t lose it. If you do, report it to the Affairs Hall immediately…”

Tao Ning felt a pang of sympathy for the overworked disciple. “It’s also time for the monthly stipend distribution. You can collect yours next door.”

Tao Ning glanced at the long queue, her heart sinking slightly. “I just joined. Do I get one too?”

The disciple beamed, nodding enthusiastically. “Everyone gets one.”

Since I’m already here… Tao Ning joined the queue, presenting her token to the female cultivator behind the counter. “Senior Sister, here’s my token.”

The reaction was similar, but more pronounced. The cultivator’s eyes widened in excitement. “No, no, call me Grand-Niece. I’ve been waiting for someone from Wangshu Peak! You’re from Wangshu Peak, right?”

If Tao Ning hadn’t known this was the stipend distribution, she would have assumed Wangshu Peak owed this woman a large sum of money. “…Yes.”

The cultivator retrieved a large, heavy sack from beneath the counter, placing it on the table with a thud, sending dust flying. Tao Ning instinctively used a cleansing technique.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s been sitting there for a while. I don’t clean this area often. Thank you, Grand-Aunt,” the cultivator said sheepishly.

Tao Ning eyed the sack, which looked like it weighed at least fifty pounds. “This isn’t… my stipend, is it?”

She had seen other disciples receiving small pouches, each with a storage function, easily carried on their belts.

The cultivator waved her hands frantically. “No, no, this isn’t yours. This is… Elder Cen’s. She hasn’t collected her stipend for fifty years. The pouches have… accumulated. I’ve been waiting for someone from Wangshu Peak to claim them.”

Collecting a master’s stipend was a common practice.

Tao Ning stared at the half-person-tall sack. “…Fifty years?”

Fifty years of unpaid wages. Tao Ning thought of her own debts. While she claimed no regrets, the burden was heavy.

And it was likely to increase. Love meant a lifetime of servitude.

The cultivator, relieved to finally clear out the backlog, beamed. “Yes, fifty years’ worth. It’s all here. Would you like to count it?”

“No, no, that’s fine.” Tao Ning quickly stopped her from emptying the sack, her eyes wide with alarm. “I trust the Affairs Hall implicitly on behalf of my master. Thank you, Grand… Niece.”

The cultivator explained, “Ever since I started working here, Elder Cen has always forgotten to collect her stipend. I’ve been saving it for her.”

Tao Ning, suddenly understanding the cultivator’s enthusiasm, scratched her cheek. “Fifty years… Where’s my stipend?”

“Oh, right.” The cultivator retrieved a small, light green pouch, offering it with both hands. “Here you go.”

Tao Ning: “…”

The contrast was stark.

She transferred the contents of the large sack into her own pouch, filling it to the brim.

As she was leaving, she suddenly remembered something. Turning back, she asked, “Grand-Niece, do you know where I can exchange this for spiritual rice?”

The cultivator gave her directions.

Returning from Verdant Valley, where various spiritual plants were cultivated, she encountered a familiar face.

“Tao Ning?”

Tao Ning, contemplating ways to lure her master down the mountain, turned, recognizing the voice. “Jin Jiamu! What a coincidence.”

Jin Jiamu wore the Qianqi Peak disciple uniform: a red inner robe, a blue outer robe, and a disciple token at her waist.

She looked thinner, but more energetic.

She approached quickly, the red ribbon in her hair fluttering. Her eyes widened. “I haven’t seen you since the ceremony. You’ve… already guided spiritual energy into your body?”

Half a month? That was incredibly fast.

Guiding spiritual energy was a mysterious process. Some struggled for years, while others achieved it overnight.

Jin Jiamu hadn’t been so fortunate, taking three years. She had heard the others were still struggling.

Looking closer, she realized something was amiss. “No, you’ve done more than that. I can sense your spiritual aura, but I can’t see your cultivation level. Don’t tell me you’ve already reached the peak?”

Tao Ning didn’t deny it.

Her earlier progress had been hampered by the lack of spiritual energy in the environment. Now, with Cen Dianshuang’s spirit-infused jade bed, her cultivation had advanced rapidly.

And…

She recalled the night of her breakthrough. Cen Dianshuang had sat beside her, guiding her, sipping tea, lost in thought. When Tao Ning opened her eyes, she had asked, “You still haven’t told me who injured you and crippled your cultivation.”

The question had nearly caused Tao Ning’s carefully constructed lie to unravel. She had claimed she had been attacked by a powerful cultivator protecting some young master or mistress from a wealthy family she had inadvertently offended on the road. She didn’t know their identity.

She had barely managed to dissuade Cen Dianshuang, who had been ready to exact revenge with Xuan Ying in hand.

Cen Dianshuang had looked at her with guilt and regret, assuming it was her absence that had led to the attack. Tao Ning hadn’t understood her reaction.

“Half a month? That’s amazing! Didn’t your master say anything?” Jin Jiamu couldn’t hide her envy. “She must have praised you.”

She had injured her legs just before reaching Foundation Establishment, disrupting her spiritual energy flow and causing her cultivation to regress. She hadn’t made any progress in years.

She was still taking medicine to recover. Elder Qianlian, furious, planned to confront the Jin clan about their treatment of their daughter. Even a Heavenly spiritual root deserved proper care.

Tao Ning repeated Cen Dianshuang’s words. “‘Just like me. I guided spiritual energy at five, reached Foundation Establishment at ten. My master always worried about my foundation, refusing to let me advance.’”

Jin Jiamu: …You’re both monsters.

Sharing a bag of dried fish with Jin Jiamu, Tao Ning used the remaining bag to bribe another crane, securing a ride back to her lodgings.

 

Chapter 54: Disciple and Wife

Cen Dianshuang’s gaze sharpened. “You’ve cultivated before. Which technique did you use?”

If Tao Ning hadn’t crippled her cultivation, this would have been a fatal mistake.

Fortunately, Cen Dianshuang detected no trace of the Hanshan Sect’s inner sect techniques.

Holding the Hanshan Sect manual in one hand, her other wrist grasped by her new master, who was demanding an explanation, Tao Ning couldn’t tell if this was a genuine inquiry or a trap. After all, they barely knew each other.

Before Cen Dianshuang could press further, Tao Ning’s eyes reddened slightly, as if on the verge of tears, then cleared just as quickly.

This fleeting display of vulnerability made Cen Dianshuang’s grip loosen slightly.

Tao Ning: “I won’t lie to you, Master. I have cultivated before.”

Cen Dianshuang’s grip tightened again. “Who was your master?”

Tao Ning shook her head. “I don’t know. The old woman only allowed me to call her ‘Immortal.’ She would get angry if I called her anything else. She also made me take bitter medicine and strange medicinal baths every day.”

Cen Dianshuang’s voice softened. “Why?”

Tao Ning’s usually sharp, fox-like eyes drooped, her expression mournful. “I don’t know. I ran away while she was injured. She was being chased by enemies, shouting about someone stealing something from her.”

“Every time she returned, she would rant and rave. That time, she was coughing up blood, telling me I couldn’t escape, that I would become her. Before she lost consciousness, she told me to cultivate diligently.”

Cen Dianshuang’s expression turned grim, a suspicion forming in her mind. “That’s all she said? Nothing else?”

“Something else…” Tao Ning frowned, thinking, then her eyes widened as if remembering something. “Yes! She also called me a fool, saying I couldn’t appreciate such valuable things, that I should cultivate diligently, and she would become an immortal.”

This wasn’t entirely a lie. The original host had been born into a peasant family, her Lightning spiritual root causing the roof of their house to be struck by lightning at her birth, marking her as a bad omen.

With many children already, the couple didn’t want the “cursed” child. A rogue cultivator, recognizing her potential, bought her.

Intending to raise the child and have her cultivate the same technique before taking over her body, the rogue cultivator’s plans were thwarted when the original host’s master discovered her, killing the cultivator and bringing the child back to the Hanshan Sect.

Tao Ning reached out, grasping Cen Dianshuang’s sleeve, her expression confused. “What’s wrong, Master?”

Cen Dianshuang: “She wanted to take over your body.”

“Take over… my body? What does that mean?” Tao Ning asked. “Like… stealing a house?”

Cen Dianshuang explained the sinister technique.

Some cultivators, lacking talent, would choose children with promising spiritual roots, raising them with secret methods before devouring their souls and taking over their bodies to continue their own cultivation journey.

Such practices were unsustainable, defying the natural order, always ending in death during the ascension tribulation.

Despite this, many still attempted it, clinging to the slim hope of success.

Cen Dianshuang watched as Tao Ning’s face paled, her usually lively eyes widening in fear. The sight displeased her.

“Did she pursue you after you escaped?”

Tao Ning shook her head, her voice trembling slightly. “No. I ran away while she was unconscious, after… hitting her again. I was terrified for a long time. But after I left the Ten Thousand Mountains, she didn’t follow. So I came to the Hanshan Sect.”

The Ten Thousand Mountains were vast and treacherous, their depths rumored to conceal powerful cultivators’ caves filled with treasures, including a legendary pill that could bypass cultivation bottlenecks and grant a thousand years of life.

A clan had once sent a three-thousand-strong expedition to search for these treasures, but none returned. Even after millennia, the mountains remained a place of fear and mystery, rarely explored.

Most cultivators stuck to the outer edges. It was a breeding ground for all sorts of dangers. Nothing that emerged from its depths would be considered surprising.

Cen Dianshuang wasn’t surprised. She had once pursued a rogue cultivator into the mountains, the cultivator, with only one arm remaining, disappearing into the depths.

The depths were like a monster’s gaping maw, consuming everything silently.

She had assumed the cultivator, gravely injured, had perished.

Tao Ning suddenly gasped, pulling a dusty object from beneath her robes. “I found this near a crater when I escaped. It was glowing, so I picked it up. Then this white robe fell out of it.”

Cen Dianshuang, initially about to warn her against picking up random objects, realized what she was holding. “A white robe?”

Tao Ning quickly retrieved a small, folded piece of white cloth from her pouch, unfolding it to reveal the Heaven-grade robe that would make any cultivator envious.

Cen Dianshuang, her face pale, flew away on her sword. Tao Ning watched from the cliff edge, her innocent expression turning complex.

Cultivation worlds were notoriously difficult, filled with unexpected challenges.

She wasn’t sure if Cen Dianshuang would believe her. In this life, the elder was unusually straightforward, trusting by nature.

As a Hanshan Sect elder, Cen Dianshuang had a strong sense of justice. Her concern for the sect’s safety was understandable. Accepting anyone into their ranks could lead to disaster.

520, sensing Tao Ning’s inner turmoil, felt a pang of sympathy. 【Those are three Heaven-grade artifacts! You just gave them away!】

A mountain breeze stirred Tao Ning’s hair. “Ji Bai already saw them last night. Keeping them would have been a liability.”

520: 【But you didn’t have to give away everything! You have no cultivation… well, you will soon, but still, your cultivation is low. How will you defend yourself? You could have kept the robe.】

Tao Ning considered this. “I only found the inner robe. Not the others. Adding unnecessary details would have made the lie less convincing.”

520 felt like it was the only one panicking. 【That’s why you weakened the concealing formation to be broken by anyone above Void Refining! You planned this!】

Ten days before reaching the Hanshan Sect’s outer territory, Tao Ning had spent a small fortune renting an artifact refining room, emerging a day later looking utterly drained.

She was drained, her spiritual veins completely depleted. A child could have overpowered her.

A few days later, she had casually crippled her cultivation beneath a tree in the outer territory.

Tao Ning walked back towards her new house, eager to examine the Flame Dragon Furnace. “520, let’s make a bet. What are the chances of these items being returned to their rightful owner?”

520: 【Three Heaven-grade artifacts, and countless treasures inside. Any cultivator would keep them. I bet you get nothing back.】

---

Could I have misjudged her? Cen Dianshuang arrived at Shuhan Peak, her mind filled with doubt. “I need to speak with Senior Sister. Where is she?”

Xuan Ying shrunk back to its normal size, returning to its sheath with a soft click.

A disciple guarding the entrance hurried after her. “Elder Cen, the Sect Leader isn’t at Red Stone Spring. She’s in the meeting hall.”

Cen Dianshuang changed course, heading towards the meeting hall.

The disciple, no longer needed, returned to her post, scratching her head in confusion.

Another disciple, standing guard with her, asked, “What’s wrong with Elder Cen? I’ve never seen her so agitated.”

The female disciple shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Lizhu often conducted sect business in the meeting hall, but sometimes she would take stacks of jade slips to Red Stone Spring, preferring the warmer environment due to her Fire spiritual root.

Disciples also guarded the meeting hall, awaiting the Sect Leader’s instructions, but they were accustomed to Cen Dianshuang’s unannounced visits.

Cen Dianshuang practically burst into the meeting hall. “Senior Sister, I need to speak with you.”

Lizhu, looking up from a stack of documents, replied, “As it happens, I also need to speak with you.”

Cen Dianshuang: “I think I misjudged my disciple.”

Lizhu: “I heard you cried when you found her.”

They both stared at each other in surprise.

Cen Dianshuang: “How did you know?”

Lizhu: “How did you misjudge your disciple?”

Their impulsive natures clashed, but Lizhu, as usual, yielded. “You first.”

Cen Dianshuang placed the items on the table. “Take a look at this.”

Lizhu glanced at the objects. “A stone…?”

Then, her expression turned serious as she recognized the necklace, quickly disabling the concealing formation.

Lizhu: “Where…?” Where did you get this?

The necklace pulsed with a vibrant, purple light, the aura of a Heaven-grade, first-tier artifact, nearly overwhelming Lizhu.

“What is this?” She reached out, her fingers brushing against a soft, cool, silken material.

It was a robe.

This was unusual. Lizhu stared at the crumpled garment, its exquisite craftsmanship evident even in its current state. It was a Heaven-grade robe, undoubtedly.

A complete set, with an ornate, albeit slightly dusty, belt and various accessories.

The embroidery looked familiar. “Where did you get this?”

“Just as I suspected.” Cen Dianshuang, looking at the robe, which was clearly made for an adult woman, explained, “My disciple found this Heaven-grade storage artifact. The robe was inside. Since you were able to disable the formation so easily, Senior Sister, it must be unclaimed.”

Lizhu, examining the robe, raised an eyebrow. “Your disciple found it?”

She placed the robe down, her expression serious. “Do you know who this belonged to?”

Could there be another connection? Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “No. I didn’t examine it closely. I brought it straight to you.”

Lizhu sighed, her hands resting on the table. “I don’t know whether to say your disciple is incredibly fortunate, or that she has a special connection to our Hanshan Sect, managing to reach us with these items, relying on the previous owner’s concealing formation.”

Cen Dianshuang recalled Tao Ning’s evasiveness during their travels, her reluctance to interact with others.

Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t been discovered earlier.

Lizhu: “I’ll be blunt. Did your disciple travel through the Ten Thousand Mountains? These items belonged to Demon Lord Qingji. That tribulation three months ago… it was her.”

Three months was enough time for news of a Mahayana cultivator’s fall to reach the Hanshan Sect and be thoroughly analyzed.

But no one had been able to identify the deceased cultivator. Every sect had claimed their ancestors were alive and well.

And they hadn’t been lying. The news of the tribulation had prompted many reclusive elders to emerge from seclusion, only to confirm that everyone was still alive, much to their disappointment.

Only Lizhu, initially suspicious of everyone, had eventually agreed with their claims.

A faint premonition, a cultivator’s intuition, had led her to believe the deceased cultivator might be from the Hanshan Sect.

Qingji had discarded her disciple token, severing ties with the sect, taking her soul lamp with her, leaving only a cryptic message – “Don’t look for me” – before disappearing from the Radiant Realm.

Centuries later, her master’s master had perished, and she had risen to prominence the very next day.

Those who knew of Qingji were either in seclusion or dead. Few suspected the Hanshan Sect.

Cen Dianshuang: “Grand Ancestor?”

Lizhu had mentioned the possibility, but Cen Dianshuang knew little about the deceased cultivator, who had become an enigma in the Radiant Realm.

It was said that Qingji had fallen to the demonic path and been expelled from the sect, but the Hanshan Sect had never confirmed this. Her master hadn’t either, still referring to her as Grand Ancestor behind closed doors.

“However… I’m not jumping to conclusions.” Lizhu continued, “There have been rumors from the Demonic Realm. The current Demon Lord reportedly told his subordinates that Demon Lord Qingji was in the Radiant Realm, somewhere in the Ten Thousand Mountains.”

Cen Dianshuang’s impression of their ancestor was based on stories and legends. “Senior Sister, are you saying the deceased cultivator was our Grand Ancestor?”

“Yes, that’s what I believe.” Lizhu presented further evidence. “Look at this. What do you see?”

Of their master’s many disciples, only Lizhu, the first disciple, had seen Qingji’s profile. She had, however, heard many stories.

Cen Dianshuang leaned in, initially blinded by the shimmering runes on the sleeve, then realizing what they depicted. “Is that… lightning?”

Lizhu: “Yes, lightning. She always used lightning patterns in her embroidery and wore these colors. It’s definitely her.”

Cen Dianshuang, initially intending to clear her disciple’s name, was now confronted with the possible death of her sect’s ancestor. “But why is there residual lightning spiritual energy in the embroidery?” She had felt a jolt when she examined it earlier.

“She was always… flamboyant,” Lizhu sighed, shaking her head. “That’s how I know it’s her. Only she would do something like that.”

Cen Dianshuang: “…”

Lizhu’s spiritual sense probed the storage necklace, then she let out a soft hum. Cen Dianshuang watched as she retrieved two more items.

A ring inlaid with a purple spirit stone and a belt, both radiating the unmistakable aura of powerful artifacts.

“Your disciple… didn’t just give you one Heaven-grade artifact. She gave you three.” Lizhu tapped the two items, her expression suggesting the necklace contained even more treasures. “I’m not an expert in artifact refinement, but I’m fairly certain these belonged to our Grand Ancestor.”

Cen Dianshuang: “I’ll ask Senior Sister Qianlian to confirm.”

Lizhu raised a hand, stopping her. “Not yet. Did your disciple give these to you so readily?”

Cen Dianshuang: “What do you mean, Senior Sister?”

Lizhu smiled, a glint of amusement in her eyes, withdrawing her hand from the artifacts. “If she’s a spy, that’s a steep price to pay. These items… are worth more than ten treasure vaults of the Demonic Realm’s Zhaoyao Palace.”

---

Tao Ning, placing a pot of simmering Silverfish soup on the table, turned to fetch bowls, then paused, looking out the window.

520, practically drooling digitally, asked, 【What is it?】

A dark speck in the distance gradually resolved into a human figure, answering 520’s question. Cen Dianshuang was returning.

Tao Ning wiped her hands and hurried out. “Master, you’re back.”

Cen Dianshuang’s mind was filled with stories of the legendary Demon Lord Qingji’s youthful exploits. As a teenager, she might have been tempted to emulate her ancestor, but now, her perspective had shifted. She thought of Qingji’s master.

That must have been a constant headache, even more so than her own senior sister setting their grandmaster’s beard on fire. A true agent of chaos in the cultivation world.

Looking at Tao Ning, her eyes shining with innocent enthusiasm, she reached out and patted her head. “I’m back.”

At least my disciple isn’t like Grand Ancestor Qingji, embedding lightning runes in her clothes, blinding anyone who looks too closely.

If Lizhu knew her thoughts, she would have said, Using the Flame Dragon Furnace to cook for your disciple isn’t much better.

Tao Ning, momentarily stunned by the unexpected display of affection, thought, What’s going on?

Cen Dianshuang, without further explanation, retrieved the familiar, dusty necklace and fastened it around Tao Ning’s slender neck.

Tao Ning’s fingers brushed against the pendant.

Cen Dianshuang: “The Sect Leader said this is your destiny. Since you found it, it belongs to you. But you’re still young. The Sect Leader added a new restriction. You can access its contents after you reach Golden Core.”

Tao Ning looked up, feeling Cen Dianshuang’s hands at her neck. She raised her own hand, then hesitated.

She almost reached out to grasp Cen Dianshuang’s hand, wanting to hold it against her cheek, feel its warmth.

For a fleeting moment, she wanted to ask 520 if there was a possibility of… her… existing in this world too.

But she held back, the question unspoken. While Cen Dianshuang’s eyes didn’t look familiar, her actions, her mannerisms, echoed a ghost from her past.

Cen Dianshuang, not accustomed to such close contact, fumbled slightly with the clasp.

As she withdrew her hand, a small, scarred hand grasped her sleeve.

Tao Ning’s hardships weren’t visible on her face, but etched onto her hands.

The hand tugged gently.

Cen Dianshuang looked at her disciple, puzzled by the sudden display of affection. “What is it?”

Tao Ning’s eyes suddenly felt watery. Smiling, she asked, “Will you stay for dinner, Master?”

Cen Dianshuang, smelling the fish soup, replied, “I don’t like fish.”

Tao Ning, giving her a You really don’t like fish? look, offered another dish: spirit bamboo shoots.

Cen Dianshuang couldn’t bring herself to say she didn’t like bamboo shoots either. She loved them.

They sat down at a small table under the moonlight.

Tao Ning, truly hungry, had spent the day catching and preparing the Silverfish, even considering ways to improve the taste of Fasting Pills.

If she couldn’t tolerate the bitterness, perhaps she could make them sweet.

She wasn’t skilled in alchemy, her attempts usually ending in explosions, with the occasional, improbable success producing high-quality pills.

She had tried it on the road, using the resulting pills to pay off her debts. A net-zero endeavor.

But the success rate was abysmal. Better to stick to her other skills.

After dinner, Cen Dianshuang, watching Tao Ning clear the table, finally asked the third question. “Why did you choose me as your master?”

Tao Ning, without hesitation, replied, “Because I admire you, Master. I’ve heard of your great name and traveled far to become your disciple.”

Such a background explained her resourcefulness. Growing up under such circumstances would require constant vigilance.

Traveled far to become my disciple. She had heard that before. Twice.

She had initially suspected the girl was a spy, intent on becoming her disciple to kill her other disciple. But now, it seemed she simply couldn’t tolerate rivals.

Her new disciple was high-maintenance, possessive, and clingy, but also obedient. That made up for everything.

Cen Dianshuang patted her head. “I’ll treat you well. I won’t take another disciple.” Just try not to get yourself killed.

Tao Ning, having achieved the status of sole disciple: “Okay.”

Chapter 53: Disciple and Wife

After leading Tao Ning away, Cen Dianshuang realized her lack of preparation extended beyond just the disciple token.

She hadn’t considered where her new disciple would live.

The token issue was easily resolved with the jade pendant, but living arrangements were less flexible. She was accustomed to solitude, and even with a disciple, maintaining a certain distance was preferable.

Her senior siblings had warned her about the awkwardness of living too close to one’s disciples. A master needed to maintain a certain authority, and she, with her secrets, needed even more distance.

Never live with your disciple, their advice echoed in her ears.

Standing before the boundary marker of Wangshu Peak, with her new disciple trailing behind her, she turned, a frown on her face. “Where do you plan to stay?”

Tao Ning, feigning confusion, replied innocently, “Wherever Master resides, I will reside.”

Of course.

Cen Dianshuang turned back to the boundary marker, her brow furrowed in thought.

Her senior siblings had also warned her about new disciples being like newly hatched chicks, clinging to their master relentlessly.

A good master fostered independence, encouraging their disciples to fly solo.

Tao Ning, mentally translating the look she received as Why are you so clingy?, wondered, Isn’t this how new disciples are supposed to behave?

Having never taken a disciple before, she struggled to formulate an appropriate response.

Both master and disciple were caught in a mental stalemate.

Cen Dianshuang considered using her communication jade to consult her senior siblings, but resisted, not wanting to appear incompetent before her new disciple. Maintaining a master’s image was important.

Tao Ning, meanwhile, roused her AI companion, 520, requesting advice on proper disciple etiquette.

520: 【You’ve come to the right place! My search engine is top-notch!】

Then, both stared at the top search results in stunned silence.

Calling Master “Master” During the Day, Something Else at Night

High-Risk Occupations in the Cultivation World

My Disciple is Rebellious Again

What to Do When You’re Obsessed with Your Master

…

Tao Ning: “520, you call this ‘top-notch’?”

520 groveled, wailing electronically, 【I’m so sorry, Host! wuwuwu…】

Tao Ning closed the search results, her face a mask of disgust.

“Your search history is… concerning. You’ve polluted my results.”

520, knowing it was at fault, and not wanting to upset the already volatile widow, apologized profusely. 【I’m so sorry, Host! I’ll purify my search engine immediately!】

Tao Ning looked at the figure ahead. Cen Dianshuang, her black hair cascading down her back, looked ethereal, yet her posture radiated frustration and impatience, a rare sight.

Tao Ning: “Actually, don’t bother.”

520: 【???】 Why not?

Finally, Cen Dianshuang had an idea. She led Tao Ning to a clearing halfway up the mountain, a reasonable distance from both the foot of the mountain and her cave dwelling at the summit, convenient for providing guidance.

Satisfied with the location, she turned to Tao Ning. “How about this place?”

The scenery was beautiful, with a cascading waterfall and a flat plateau overlooking the valley.

Tao Ning, suppressing her disappointment—she had hoped to be closer to Cen Dianshuang—surveyed the area, then nodded. “It’s lovely, Master. I like it.”

A longer walk up the mountain was a small price to pay. She could consider it exercise.

Cen Dianshuang: “…”

Looking at the girl’s bright eyes, she was reminded of the night Tao Ning had devoured the roasted rabbit, her eyes shining with equal intensity as she declared, Rabbit is delicious. I love rabbit.

This disciple would be… high-maintenance. She was picky, refusing Fasting Pills, demanding meat, vegetables, and various fruits.

Just last night, unable to find another pheasant, she had dug at the earth, declaring she would rather eat dirt than another Fasting Pill.

Who would rather eat dirt than a perfectly good pill? How is that not high-maintenance?

Cen Dianshuang, having been pampered and protected all her life, didn’t realize that bamboo shoots grew underground. She had only ever consumed delicate slices of spirit-infused Phoenix Bamboo Shoots served on jade platters.

Fearing her disciple might actually resort to eating dirt, she blurted out, “As my first disciple, you are now in charge of everything on Wangshu Peak.”

She recalled the abundance of wildlife on the vast mountain, creatures she rarely paid attention to, only catching glimpses of them during her travels.

As Tao Ning looked at her with confusion, she pointed towards the waterfall and the deep pool below. “There are Silverfish in there. I caught them myself.”

Then, gesturing towards the surrounding forest, she continued, “I didn’t drive away the animals when I established this peak. They’ve thrived here.”

The ordinary, non-spiritual beasts could roam freely. The other peaks were too crowded. Only Wangshu Peak offered peace and quiet, attracting various creatures.

Tao Ning, remembering Cen Dianshuang’s hidden compassion, asked tentatively, “You want me to… take care of them, Master?”

Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “No. You can eat them.”

“…Understood.” Tao Ning felt like she was being… farmed.

An entire mountain, all-you-can-eat.

520 recalled a scene from a drama, a similar situation where the protagonist declared, I want everyone to know this mountain is yours!

Tao Ning: “Will Master be eating too?”

Cen Dianshuang instinctively shook her head. “I don’t eat.”

Seeing the girl’s disappointed expression, she clarified, “Having reached Nascent Soul, I no longer require food. Mortal food is merely a burden.”

Tao Ning, quick-witted as ever, asked, “What about spiritual rice and spirit beast meat? Are those also a burden?”

Cen Dianshuang: “No.”

Remembering her role as a master, she elaborated, explaining, “Spirit-infused food enhances cultivation and expands one’s meridians. It’s not a burden for cultivators.”

Tao Ning: “I understand, Master.”

Cen Dianshuang, unsure what her disciple understood, but satisfied nonetheless, moved on to the more pressing issue of shelter.

It rained frequently on Wangshu Peak. Her now-mortal disciple would get sick if exposed to the elements. Mortals were so fragile.

“What kind of lodging do you prefer?”

Tao Ning: “Nothing too extravagant. Comfortable is fine. A training room and a kitchen are sufficient.”

Cen Dianshuang nodded. “Alright. Step back. Wait for me by the pool.”

Tao Ning obeyed. As she stood by the water’s edge, she heard a clear voice call out, “Xuan Ying.”

Turning, she saw Cen Dianshuang draw a sword, a narrow blade, barely two fingers wide.

The sword was pale, almost translucent, like ice, its color reflecting its master’s spiritual energy. The hilt, far from simple, was intricately carved with mysterious runes.

It was the first time Tao Ning had seen Cen Dianshuang wield a sword. The display was mesmerizing.

A passing cultivator, noticing the surge of sword intent, wondered, “Who’s showing off on Wangshu Peak? Aren’t they afraid of getting sliced by our Junior Sister?”

The disciple behind him replied, “Pale blue spiritual energy… It must be Elder Cen herself…”

“Oh… right.”

With a single sweep of the sword, trees toppled, the force of the blow clearing a large area. The fallen trees neatly arranged themselves, as if guided by an unseen hand.

Tao Ning watched, captivated.

Cen Dianshuang was both a Sword Cultivator and a Music Cultivator, always carrying her zither, Yaoguang, and her sword, Xuan Ying.

It was said that Elder Cen had achieved fame at a young age, defeating an opponent of a higher realm at the age of thirteen during the disciple competition, comprehending the ninth form of the sect’s legacy sword technique, the Carefree Sword, on stage.

The Carefree Sword had fifteen forms. Most Foundation Establishment disciples only knew the names, not the actual techniques.

Cen Dianshuang’s comprehension of the ninth form at thirteen, during a live duel, was a testament to her exceptional talent.

She had then immediately broken through to Foundation Establishment, her Golden Core forming, an unheard-of feat at such a young age. The previous Sect Leader had personally overseen her breakthrough.

She had missed winning first place in the Foundation Establishment division of the disciple competition, moving on to dominate the Golden Core division instead.

At fifteen, she was halfway to Nascent Soul. Fearing she was progressing too quickly, the previous Sect Leader had instructed her to suppress her cultivation.

Obeying her master’s orders, she finally reached Nascent Soul at one hundred and fifty—unable to contain her breakthrough while slaying a demon, her tribulation lightning conveniently obliterating the demon attempting to ambush her.

Fearing her master’s reprimand, she had remained in seclusion for twenty years, returning with a self-created sword technique, the Thirteen Forms of Falling Snow, hoping it would appease her master.

520, sensing a shift in Tao Ning’s demeanor, asked cautiously, 【Why are you smiling, Host?】

The usually gloomy, resentful widow was suddenly radiating joy. It was unsettling.

She wouldn’t have… snapped, would she?

Better search for symptoms.

Unbeknownst to Tao Ning, the search engine was once again being abused, churning out thousands of results, which 520 diligently categorized.

Like a busy little bee, it searched for the most relevant information.

Tao Ning: “Someone is building me a house. I’m happy.”

The situation was still uncertain. She wouldn’t reveal her true intentions prematurely. Her distrust of the world seemed innate. Few earned her complete trust.

Even with 520, she remained guarded, her words often cryptic.

Her memories were fragmented, incomplete, but she had a general sense of who she once was.

She had also had someone she trusted implicitly, someone who made her believe her paranoia had faded with time.

But now, her subconscious whispered, No, that’s not true. Your paranoia thrived in the shadows of that trust.

Having cleared the area, Cen Dianshuang considered the design, constructing two simple wooden houses with the felled trees, not feeling the least bit wasteful about using her Nascent Soul cultivation for such mundane tasks.

For her, there was no such thing as waste, only willingness.

She furnished the interior with a spirit jade bed from her storage ring, along with various pots, pans, and other potentially useful items.

The Hanshan Sect disciples often speculated about Elder Cen’s dwelling.

Elder Yaodan’s Green Hut was filled with the aroma of herbs, its central chamber dominated by a perpetually burning furnace. Elder Qianlian’s residence resembled a treasure trove, its red and gold walls lined with shelves stacked high with artifacts.

The Sect Leader’s dwelling was, of course, grand and opulent, though she preferred cultivating in the Red Stone Spring behind it.

They imagined Elder Cen’s dwelling to be spartan and meticulously organized, devoid of ornamentation, like an icy, impersonal chamber.

In truth, Cen Dianshuang had never put so much effort into her own living space.

As a child, finally coaxed down from her treetop perch by her master, who insisted that no respectable cultivator lived in trees—it raised questions about potential feather molting—she had simply carved a cave into the mountainside, creating a stone bed for cultivation.

This was another reason for her reluctance to bring Tao Ning to her own dwelling.

Her senior siblings’ cave dwellings were lavishly furnished, with beds carved from ten-thousand-year spiritual wood, deep-sea crystals and corals adorning the walls, and teacups crafted from the finest jade, said to enhance meditation.

Her own cave was bare, furnished only with a stone bed and a coral she used as a perch.

—The coral was a gift from her senior sister, intended to be the focal point of a spirit gathering formation.

Tao Ning watched as Cen Dianshuang built her house, her brow furrowing in confusion as she examined the various items from her storage ring before giving up and tossing them inside.

She even placed a small, spirit-fire-fueled furnace inside. Tao Ning raised her hand, wanting to say something.

How do I tell Master that’s not for cooking?

Cen Dianshuang, deeming the house complete, beckoned Tao Ning. “Come here.”

Tao Ning approached quickly, her robes swirling around her. “Master, your swordsmanship is truly remarkable, like a celestial being descending from the heavens. It’s amazing! Can I learn it too?”

Cen Dianshuang: “…”

She finally understood why her senior siblings enjoyed having disciples. Being looked at with such admiration was… pleasant.

Her usually tense demeanor softened. “Of course. It’s my own creation. As my direct disciple, you will inherit my legacy. You’ll be punished if you don’t learn it properly.”

Tao Ning: “With Master’s guidance, I will dedicate myself fully and strive to live up to your name.”

Cen Dianshuang, slightly embarrassed by the praise, coughed, covering her mouth with her sleeve. “Is there anything else you need?”

Tao Ning’s eyes shone. “So you agree, Master?”

Before Cen Dianshuang could respond, she darted inside, her slightly sun-bleached hair swaying behind her.

Cen Dianshuang, shaking off her momentary bewilderment, thought, She’s endured so much hardship. I should ask Senior Sister if she has anything suitable for a new disciple.

A gift for her grand-niece was a perfectly reasonable request. This was, after all, her first disciple.

Tao Ning, exploring her new home, was nearly blinded by the glowing jade bed, then her attention was drawn to a large screen.

The screen depicted a massive bird in flight, its wings spanning the entire surface, its white plumage gleaming, its tail feathers on the back, its head on the front. She had to walk around it to see the whole image.

She couldn’t quite decipher its meaning, but she suspected it was one of Cen Dianshuang’s creations.

“Master, what kind of divine bird is this?”

Cen Dianshuang, glancing at her sideways, her expression unreadable, replied, “A warding screen. With this, no one will dare intrude.”

Tao Ning, her curiosity piqued, asked, “What if someone does intrude?”

Cen Dianshuang: “Pick it up and crush them.”

Tao Ning: …She’s definitely messing with me.

Cen Dianshuang coughed, offering an alternative. “If you can’t lift it, hide behind it and wait for me.”

Tao Ning understood. It was a turtle shell.

Her gaze lingered on the small furnace, the spirit fire within seeming to resent Cen Dianshuang’s ignorance.

The furnace, barely large enough to hug, was a vibrant red, adorned with carved dragons that peered over the rim, their mouths open as if breathing fire into the interior.

An Earth-grade, first-tier artifact refining furnace, the kind that would spark bidding wars at auctions, was now relegated to a kitchen, a glorified cooking stove.

Tao Ning felt a pang of sympathy for the mistreated furnace. “Master, what is this? How does it burn without firewood?”

As if in response, the flames flared, singeing the ends of Tao Ning’s hair.

Cen Dianshuang’s expression hardened. With a flick of her wrist, she extinguished the flames with a ball of water. “Insolent thing.”

Tao Ning touched her slightly singed cheek. The furnace seemed to have developed a nascent spirit, still in its infancy.

She had felt sorry for it, but now… hmph.

Holding a singed strand of hair, she complained, “Master, it burned my hair.”

It dared to burn my disciple’s hair in my presence? Imagine what it would do when I’m not here.

Cen Dianshuang summoned more water from the pool, dousing the furnace again, its flames sputtering in protest. “If it misbehaves, just pour water on it. Ordinary water will do.”

Tao Ning: “Understood, Master.”

The two stood before the Earth-grade furnace, discussing methods of water torture, like bullies tormenting a weaker opponent.

The furnace, sensing their hostility, subsided, its flames dimming.

Cen Dianshuang, oblivious to the furnace’s complex emotions, explained, “This is the Flame Dragon Furnace. I found it in a secret realm years ago. It’s said to be used for artifact refining, but it can also cook food. It’s all about applying heat.”

Tao Ning: “So it’s an artifact refining furnace.”

Cen Dianshuang paused, glancing at Tao Ning. Having spent some time with her, she recognized the slightly dismissive tone.

As she considered refining a small trinket to test the furnace, Tao Ning turned, meeting Cen Dianshuang’s serious gaze.

Cen Dianshuang assumed she was dissatisfied, but seeing the eagerness in her eyes as she looked at the furnace, she realized the girl liked it.

Good, she thought, relieved. Being a master was harder than she anticipated.

She couldn’t simply replicate her own master’s methods.

But some things were universal.

She retrieved a thin book from her storage ring. “This is the Hanshan Sect’s direct disciple cultivation manual. Take it and practice. But your first priority is guiding spiritual energy into your body. Do you require instruction?”

Tao Ning, unaware of the implications, reached for the book. “I’ll try it myself first. I’ll ask if I have any questions, Master.”

Guiding spiritual energy into her body would be as easy as breathing. She had been suppressing the urge for days, nearly succumbing to it in her sleep.

She reached for the book, but couldn’t grasp it. Confused, she looked up.

A pale hand reached out, grasping her wrist. Cen Dianshuang’s fingers tightened slightly, and Tao Ning froze, allowing a cool stream of spiritual energy to flow through her meridians.

Cen Dianshuang observed her reaction, slightly surprised by her lack of resistance, but she still had to ask. “You have recent injuries. Who hurt you?”

Chapter 52: Disciple and Wife

Tao Ning felt a prickle of unease at Jin Jiamu’s words, but, exhausted from the trials, she couldn’t quite pinpoint what felt off.

She backpedaled. “No, no, I deeply admire Elder Cen. I was simply wishing her a breakthrough to Soul Transformation.”

Jin Jiamu accepted this explanation. A hundred years of seclusion was a small price to pay for such an advancement.

Under the high-hanging moon, the two finished their clandestine meal, carefully disposing of the fire and bones before returning to their lodgings, their hearts filled with hopeful dreams.

At dawn, the row of houses buzzed with activity. Tao Ning awoke early, but remained in bed, resting.

The morning bell rang, signaling their summons.

Ji Bai and Ji Ling returned, arriving on their swords. The distance to Shuhan Peak was considerable, too far to walk.

The journey to Hanshan Hall also required flight. Walking would take days.

The two senior sisters counted heads, then summoned their swords. The narrow blades glowed, expanding to accommodate their passengers. Each sword could carry up to three people.

Though aware of the wonders of cultivation, witnessing it firsthand filled the four young aspirants with awe and excitement. Jin Jiamu, whose cultivation wasn’t yet sufficient for sword flight, eagerly anticipated the day she would have her own flying sword.

Ji Ling instructed, “The three of you, stand on my sword. Don’t look down, and hold on tight.”

Tao Ning and Jin Jiamu stood on Ji Bai’s sword. With a practiced gesture, Ji Bai lifted them into the air.

The sword ascended, soaring through the clouds, dancing with the cranes. One of the passengers, glancing down, nearly lost their footing.

In Hanshan Hall, the elders gathered, anticipating the arrival of the prospective disciples. It was a tradition, a chance to observe the new generation.

While they viewed the candidates much like a farmer assessing cabbages, there was a certain amusement in witnessing their youthful enthusiasm.

As they waited, they chatted amongst themselves, noticing an empty seat. “Elder Cen isn’t coming again?”

“She never does. Has she ever taken a disciple?”

“True. But she’s the most skilled Music Cultivator in the Hanshan Sect, having inherited the previous Sect Leader’s legacy. It’s a shame she doesn’t pass on her knowledge.”

“Only Elder Cen has mastered both sword and music cultivation to such a degree.”

“Sect Leader, won’t you persuade her?”

Lizhu, sipping her spiritual tea, smiled faintly. “There’s no rush. When she’s ready…”

An elder near the entrance suddenly spoke. “Elder Cen, you’re here?”

Silence fell as all eyes turned to the doorway. A woman in a pale blue robe stood there, her expression resolute, a red mark on her forehead.

It was Cen Dianshuang, who never attended the disciple acceptance ceremonies.

She said she wasn’t coming. What’s she doing here?

Lizhu, her teacup paused mid-air, gave her a questioning look. Cen Dianshuang returned a firm gaze.

Lizhu: ???

Unable to decipher the message, she realized – her junior sister must be concerned about the suspected spy, coming to observe personally.

She looked at Cen Dianshuang again, her eyes questioning.

Receiving another affirmative look, Lizhu felt reassured, settling back down.

She wouldn’t let the taciturn Cen Dianshuang handle the situation alone. If the girl was indeed a spy, she wouldn’t allow her to infiltrate another peak.

Just then, a disciple announced the arrival of the trial participants.

The lively atmosphere in the hall evaporated, replaced by an air of solemnity as the elders composed themselves, their expressions turning serious.

Lizhu’s voice, imbued with the authority of a Void Refining cultivator, echoed through the hall. “Enter.”

The prospective disciples, taking a deep breath, followed the two senior sisters into the grand hall.

The pressure outside had been considerable, but inside, with the combined presence of so many powerful elders, it was almost suffocating.

The elders weren’t intentionally exerting their power. It was simply the natural aura of their cultivation, a silent, invisible weight.

Hanshan Hall, the main hall of the sect, was vast, its floor paved with thousand-year-old spiritual jade, illuminated by luminous pearls, the air thick with spiritual energy.

The peak masters, seated on their daises, their robes flowing like clouds, seemed like celestial beings descending from the heavens, making the small group of aspirants look like pebbles in comparison.

“We greet the Sect Leader,” they chorused.

Tao Ning, standing in the center of the hall, bowed along with the others.

No kneeling was required, just a respectful bow.

A gentle yet commanding voice echoed from the main dais. “You five have passed the trials. You are now disciples of the Hanshan Sect. Relax.”

Despite this reassurance, their nervousness was palpable, their voices strained as they responded.

Standing before dozens of powerful elders, it was impossible not to be nervous. But having endured the arduous trials, these young aspirants, though trembling slightly, spoke clearly and confidently.

Jin Jiamu declared, “I wish to become Elder Qianlian’s disciple of Qianqi Peak. I hope you will accept me.”

Elder Qianlian, having missed the beginning and the middle, only heard the request to become her disciple. Assessing the girl’s promising spiritual roots and resilience, she nodded in agreement.

Few chose Qianqi Peak, mostly multi-spiritual root cultivators with limited options. A promising disciple was a welcome addition.

Looking at her new disciple with satisfaction, she said, “Qianqi Peak hasn’t had a new disciple in a long time. They all find it too demanding. Becoming my disciple won’t be a waste of your talent.”

She tossed a token towards Jin Jiamu.

Catching it, Jin Jiamu saw the direct disciple token and gasped, her eyes filling with tears of joy.

“Thank you, Master!”

With the first four aspirants assigned to their respective masters, only Tao Ning remained, her eyes downcast.

Lizhu, observing her closely, noticed her lack of cultivation, her aura calm and ordinary, like any other young woman.

But anyone who reached this stage wouldn’t employ easily detectable disguises.

Lizhu: “Which elder do you wish to follow?”

Here it comes, thought everyone.

Jin Jiamu, standing beside her, wondered if Tao Ning would start crying, or perhaps launch into a guilt trip…

But with so many elders watching, could she even manage a convincing performance?

Cen Dianshuang shared the same thought, her gaze fixed on the lone figure in the center of the hall.

Tao Ning knelt, lifting her eyes to meet Cen Dianshuang’s. Her usually clear mind went blank, the sounds around her fading as if she were sinking into the depths of the ocean.

But outwardly, she remained composed, her voice steady as she spoke. “Disciple Tao Ning, having long admired Elder Cen, wishes to become your disciple and receive your guidance.”

No one noticed the slight hesitation before she spoke, attributing it to nerves.

Only Tao Ning knew her heart was pounding, her words driven by pure muscle memory.

Any further questions would expose her.

The elders dismissed her slightly strained voice as youthful awe in the presence of a respected figure.

The other four had reacted similarly, one even bursting into tears.

Lizhu’s eyes flickered with understanding. She was about to intervene when a clear voice rang out. “Very well.”

Several elders looked towards… Cen Dianshuang, their expressions incredulous.

The woman who had just uttered those shocking words remained calm, even nodding at the surprised Tao Ning, repeating, “I accept you as my disciple.”

Lizhu: ???

Tao Ning: ?!!!

She agreed without even hearing my prepared speech! —Both of them had the same thought.

The boy with the Earth spiritual root whipped his head around so fast that his neck cracked, the pain barely masked by his stunned expression.

Cen Dianshuang stood, her pale eyes fixed on Tao Ning. “From now on, you will reside on Wangshu Peak.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the hall, then turned to curiosity as the girl simply stared at Elder Cen, speechless.

Tao Ning quickly recovered, her eyes crinkling into a bright smile. “Thank you, Master!”

Cen Dianshuang, looking at the seemingly innocent smile, felt a sudden urge to close her eyes, her lips tightening into a thin line.

She couldn’t quite bear to look, yet she also wanted to laugh.

Lizhu: “…”

She looked at Cen Dianshuang, her eyes questioning. Qianlian also seemed to disapprove, but neither voiced their concerns openly.

Cen Dianshuang addressed her new disciple. “Life on Wangshu Peak is arduous. Are you certain?”

Tao Ning, assuming it was a standard warning, eagerly agreed, eager to prove her devotion.

“I am certain, Master. Becoming your disciple is my greatest aspiration. I will not be deterred by hardship.”

Lizhu, still bewildered by Cen Dianshuang’s sudden change of heart, pressed further. “Since you’ve accepted her, Dianshuang, that’s wonderful. What are this young disciple’s spiritual roots?”

The others had all stated their spiritual roots. Only Tao Ning hadn’t. Without examining her meridians, Lizhu couldn’t determine the spiritual roots of a mortal with no cultivation.

Cen Dianshuang faltered. “She hasn’t been tested.” She didn’t know either.

Lizhu: “Then let’s test her. Do you intend to take her as a direct disciple or a nominal disciple? It would be a waste if her spiritual roots aren’t suitable.”

The suitability of spiritual roots was often exaggerated, used to mislead young disciples. A Heavenly spiritual root could excel in any path, though choosing the right one offered advantages.

Lizhu: “Bring a spirit testing stone. Let’s see what this child’s aptitude is.”

Cen Dianshuang retrieved a large, dark stone from her storage ring. “No need. I have one.”

Lizhu: …She’s really determined to take this girl as her disciple.

Cen Dianshuang’s expression remained unreadable. She stepped down from the dais, holding the head-sized stone.

“Come here. Place your hand on it.”

Tao Ning, Cen Dianshuang’s newly acquired disciple, stepped forward, her gaze fixed on Cen Dianshuang for a moment before placing her hand on the stone.

Everyone watched, curious about the girl’s spiritual roots.

After a moment, the stone began to change, its dark surface lightening slightly before settling, the change barely perceptible.

Each of the five elements corresponded to a specific color. The deeper the color, the stronger the affinity.

This… darkish, not quite grey, color was unusual.

They stared for a moment, then Lizhu, looking at the bewildered Tao Ning, asked, “Are you a Lightning spiritual root?”

Her words sparked recognition. The stone wasn’t pure black, but a deep, almost black, purple, with streaks of grey like flickering lightning.

Cen Dianshuang glanced at her own blue robes. She had seen Lightning spiritual roots tested before. The color had been a much lighter purple.

But looking at the deep purple stone, she felt no surprise.

Everything about Tao Ning seemed… inevitable.

The vibrant color drew the attention of several peak masters, who left their seats for a closer look. The younger disciples craned their necks, eager to witness a living, breathing Lightning spiritual root.

“A Lightning spiritual root! I haven’t seen one of those in ages. And she’s joined our Hanshan Sect!”

“The last Lightning spiritual root I remember was…” Elder Yaodan, his arms crossed, shook his head, a knowing look on his face.

Elder Qianlian glared at him. “Who? Spit it out. Stop with the cryptic nonsense.”

Elder Yaodan dodged her hammer, pointing at her. “Who else? Your ancestor, of course.”

Elder Qianlian was from Qianqi Peak, the home of artifact refiners. Their ancestor was none other than the legendary Demon Lord Qingji.

Lizhu’s voice restored order. “Indeed, she shares the same spiritual root as our Grand Ancestor. I recall the Grand Elder saying that he hadn’t seen such a pure Lightning spiritual root in many years.”

She had seen faint purples, and purples mixed with other colors, but never such a vibrant, deep purple, a testament to the girl’s exceptional talent.

Lizhu suddenly questioned her initial assessment of the girl as a Demonic Realm spy. While they were known for their unconventional methods, they wouldn’t willingly hand over such a treasure.

Pushing aside her doubts, she addressed Tao Ning, her gaze complex. “Lightning spiritual roots have a natural affinity for tribulation lightning. With diligent cultivation, your future is limitless.”

Tao Ning feigned surprise, her inner thoughts confirming her suspicions. Just as I suspected. She’s a Lightning spiritual root too.

“I will heed your words, Sect Leader.”

Lizhu sighed inwardly. If Dianshuang hadn’t claimed her, I would have snatched her up as my own disciple.

She could imagine the envious looks from the other sects during the centennial disciple competitions.

Qingji had been such a brilliant talent. Such a pity…

Cen Dianshuang, as if on cue, handed Tao Ning a jade token.

Tao Ning took it with both hands. Pure white, with a red tassel, it bore the characters “Wangshu” on one side, with a crescent moon as a backdrop, and a single character, “Frost,” on the other. It didn’t resemble a typical disciple token.

Cen Dianshuang explained, “I haven’t had time to prepare a proper disciple token. This is a pass for the Wangshu Peak formation. You’ll need it anyway. Consider it a temporary substitute.”

Her voice softened slightly, and Tao Ning detected a hint of embarrassment. “I’ll… I’ll give you a proper disciple token later.”

“Yes, Master.” Tao Ning strongly suspected Cen Dianshuang hadn’t simply forgotten. She probably hadn’t even considered it.

Gaining entry to Wangshu Peak was the main objective. The token was a bonus.

Lizhu, looking at the jade token, wanted to say something, but hesitated.

Wangshu Peak did have protective formations, but entry wasn’t granted by tokens, but by the peak master’s permission, allowing those with her approval to pass through unhindered.

If everyone needed a token to enter Wangshu Peak, Cen Dianshuang would be bankrupt, even if she sold all her possessions.

Furthermore, the token wasn’t made of ordinary jade. It calmed the mind and protected against illusions, a rare and valuable treasure.

Cen Dianshuang had only crafted one for herself, and now she had given it away.

With a token imbued with Cen Dianshuang’s aura, entry to Wangshu Peak was guaranteed.

Lizhu felt like a mother hen, lamenting the loss of a Lightning spiritual root disciple and the gifting of a precious artifact.

Looking at the two, she waved her sleeve dismissively. “Enough. Take your new disciple and leave before I change my mind.”

Tao Ning quickly put away the token.

This small act of prudence brought Lizhu a sliver of comfort. Perhaps the disciple had more sense than the master.

Tao Ning was far more perceptive than Lizhu imagined, recognizing the token’s value at a glance. Her respectful bow had been excessively grateful.

Cen Dianshuang, remembering her senior sister’s words about taking the girl under her wing, quickly led her away.

The other peak masters, with their new disciples, also departed, leaving Ji Bai and Ji Ling behind. They returned to Shuhan Peak with Lizhu.

After landing, Ji Bai spoke. “Master, I have something to report regarding Elder Cen’s new disciple.”

Ji Ling, sensing a sensitive topic, excused herself.

Lizhu: “What is it?”

Ji Bai recounted the incident with the robe, leaving nothing out.

As a mere Foundation Establishment disciple, even having trained under the Sect Leader, she didn’t dare conceal anything. The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. And with the Sect Leader’s interest in the girl, it was even more important to report her observations.

If something went wrong, the disciples involved would be held accountable.

And Elder Cen should also be informed. Knowing her disciple’s background was crucial.

Lizhu, hearing about the robe again, felt a knot of unease in her stomach. “I understand. You may leave.”

Ji Bai bowed and departed.

Chapter 51: Disciple and Wife

The grey-clad girl, trailing behind the others, muttered to herself, then suddenly looked up at the sky.

Above, the faint shimmer of the protective formation was visible. Sect-raised cranes soared beneath the barrier, and beyond, shrouded in white mist, the towering peaks reached towards the clouds.

Ji Ling, walking ahead, glanced back. “What are you looking at?”

Tao Ning lowered her gaze, her expression innocent. “I’ve never seen cranes flying amidst the clouds. I was mesmerized.”

Ji Bai and Ji Ling, accustomed to the sight, remembered their own initial awe upon entering the sect and didn’t fault her for her fascination.

Ji Bai said, “They must be in a good mood today. You’ll see them every day. Let’s go. I’ll take you to your lodgings.”

As if understanding Ji Bai’s words, the cranes scattered, flying high above, their white forms concealing the small, snow-white bundle hidden on one of their backs.

Leaving the grand plaza, one crane flew towards Wangshu Peak, but veered away halfway up, the small white bundle leaping from its back, not even pausing on the outstretched branches.

A flash of light, and a woman in green appeared on the steps leading to the summit.

Cen Dianshuang, one hand lifting her skirt, climbed the steps, lost in thought. “The original host wouldn’t have cried for her. So why did I?”

The feeling had been so strange.

She was straightforward, her musical talent stemming from innate ability, not sentimentality. She struggled to articulate the complex emotions behind that single tear.

A fleeting moment of both joy and sorrow.

She considered seeking clarification from her senior sister, but hesitated, then shook her head. “No, I won’t ask.”

Arriving at the temporary lodgings, the two senior sisters gave the prospective disciples their instructions and left.

These accommodations were typically used for new Academy students, mostly Qi Refining cultivators who still required mundane necessities like food and baths. The location was secluded, away from the main student quarters.

Seclusion meant peace and quiet. Tao Ning watched as the others chose their rooms, leaving the last one for her. She entered slowly.

The room was small, with a window overlooking the forest. At night, she would be able to fall asleep to the rustling of bamboo leaves.

The Hanshan Sect treated its Academy students well, providing individual rooms. While small, barely enough space for a bed and a table, at least it was private.

A set of plain green robes, devoid of embroidery, lay on the bed – the standard uniform for new Academy students.

Tao Ning picked up the robes and headed towards the bathhouse Ji Ling had pointed out. After a refreshing bath, she returned to her room, intending to wash her travel-stained grey robe.

She picked up the Heaven-grade robe. It remained pristine, untouched by dust. Now, without her cultivation, she couldn’t use Heaven-grade artifacts. She would have to find a way to conceal it.

The sound of the door opening startled her. She looked up to see Ji Bai returning with a handful of tokens.

“I forgot to mention, you’ll need these disciple tokens for the ceremony tomorrow…”

She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze fixed on the white robe in Tao Ning’s hands.

Bathed in the bright moonlight, the robe shimmered, its brilliance undeniable.

Ji Bai had never seen such fabric, pure white and subtly radiant, captivating her attention. “That’s…”

Tao Ning, exhausted from the trials, had been careless. She could only hope the young disciple wouldn’t recognize a Heaven-grade artifact.

Feigning nonchalance, she draped the robe over her arm, tilting her head and asking gently, “What were you saying, Senior Sister Ji Bai?”

Against the backdrop of her grey robe, the white seemed less striking, almost dull. Ji Bai questioned her own perception.

Easily distracted, Ji Bai forgot her initial curiosity and left.

The other prospective disciples, lacking Tao Ning’s stamina, had collapsed onto their beds, too tired to even wash up.

After distributing the tokens, hanging them on each door, Tao Ning returned to her room, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Remembering that she was now a mortal, incapable of cultivation, she lay down, fully clothed.

The night deepened, the rustling of bamboo leaves filling the air. In the row of rooms, only one window remained open.

Moonlight streamed in, dividing the room into light and shadow.

A figure lay on the bed, sleeping soundly amidst the gentle snores of the other occupants, seemingly unaffected by the grueling trials.

Before one could get a closer look, the sleeping figure’s eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes, one hand rubbing her stomach.

“Hungry,” she declared.

Tao Ning couldn’t sleep. One Fasting Pill sustained her for two days. She had one left, but the taste was atrocious.

Cultivators might claim indifference to worldly pleasures, but did they really need to endure such culinary torture?

She refused to take another one unless absolutely necessary.

Sitting up, she shook the small pill bottle, muttering, “I wish that ungrateful little thing was here. I’d crush this and feed it to it, just to hear it chirp in protest.”

A small, snow-white bundle hidden in the shadows: …She’s definitely talking about me.

Cen Dianshuang had never been one for pecking, but this Tao Ning, with her uncanny ability to provoke with mere words, was testing her patience. She began to question her decision to observe the girl.

Perhaps her temper has improved?

Putting away the pill bottle, Tao Ning slipped out into the moonlight, heading towards the bamboo grove.

She would rather gnaw on raw bamboo shoots than swallow another Fasting Pill.

To her delight, she found a wild pheasant in the grove. The Hanshan Sect truly is a haven for all creatures, she thought as she swiftly and efficiently snapped the pheasant’s neck.

She assumed it was a stray, left behind by a former resident of the lodgings, a fortunate find for her.

Thanking nature for its bounty, she retrieved a fire starter and some spices from her small cloth bag, marinating the cleaned pheasant.

No fancy techniques, just the simplest, most flavorful method: roasting over an open fire.

Perched high on a bamboo branch, the small, snow-white bundle: …I didn’t know we had wild pheasants in the Hanshan Sect.

This girl was incredibly bold, casually roasting a bird in the bamboo grove. It smelled delicious.

After three months of self-sufficiency, Tao Ning’s culinary skills had improved significantly. Soon, the most desirable parts of the pheasant were cooked to perfection.

Poking the fire, she glanced around. “Not coming out? Suit yourself. I’ll eat it all myself.”

A slightly anxious voice responded, “Wait! I’m coming! Save some for me!”

Tao Ning: “…Who’s there?”

Turning, she saw a delicate face. After a moment, she recognized the quiet girl with the single Metal spiritual root.

She hadn’t caught a bird, but she had caught a person.

Despite knowing the outcome, she still felt a twinge of disappointment.

The snow-white bundle settled back down, relieved.

That was close. What is she roasting? It smells so good.

Will I really be subjected to this constant temptation as her master? But Senior Sister has so many disciples, she probably won’t bother with me.

The bundle continued its silent observation.

The girl, fearing Tao Ning would retract her offer, quickly settled down beside her. “I followed the scent. Where did you find such a plump pheasant?”

Tao Ning picked up a piece of meat with her chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “Caught it nearby. Seemed abandoned, so I roasted it.”

The girl: “…Caught it nearby?” She eyed the succulent pheasant roasting over the fire.

Was it safe to eat?

Appetite won out. Seeing Tao Ning eating without hesitation, she picked up a piece and began roasting it herself.

Tao Ning, observing her clumsy technique, realized she wasn’t accustomed to such tasks. “What’s your name?”

They had introduced themselves at the gate, but Tao Ning hadn’t remembered. The girl, unfazed, replied, “Jin Jiamu. The one with the Metal spiritual root.”

Tao Ning nodded, acknowledging her, her mind elsewhere.

Jin Jiamu, usually quiet, was surprisingly talkative in private. To distract herself from the tantalizing aroma of the roasting pheasant, she continued the conversation.

“The disciple acceptance ceremony is tomorrow. Which elder do you plan to ask? I’m hoping for Elder Qianlian of Qianqi Peak.”

Tao Ning’s interest piqued. “You want to pursue artifact refinement?”

Jin Jiamu licked her lips, her gaze fixed on the fire. “Yes. No offense, but I don’t think sword cultivation suits me. I’m not… aggressive enough. I can’t learn that.”

“I’ve been thinking. I want to become an artifact refiner. My family says girls should learn talismans or music, not swing hammers. It’s unseemly. They want me to become an alchemist, so I don’t have to spend so much on pills and can brew my own.”

“But my family… the Jin clan… we’re artifact refiners. Why can they do it, but not me?”

She poured out her frustrations, words she had never shared with anyone. But somehow, in Tao Ning’s presence, she felt comfortable confiding in her, as if speaking to a trusted elder.

Tao Ning’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “This path requires patience. You can’t be afraid of failure.”

She gestured towards Jin Jiamu. “And sword cultivators aren’t just about fighting. You ran away from home. Once you join the Hanshan Sect, they won’t dare take you back.”

“That’s what I said! No offense.” Jin Jiamu puffed up slightly, then deflated. “Of course. They wouldn’t dare offend the Hanshan Sect.”

Her smug expression faltered. “How did you know I ran away?”

Normally, she wouldn’t bother answering such personal questions, but she had a soft spot for aspiring artifact refiners.

Tao Ning: “You’re different from the others. You have a family cultivation technique. Your clothes are worn, but there are traces of a protective formation embroidered on the back. The wealthy twins don’t have that. They come from a merchant family. Their clothes are for decoration, not protection.”

“You were the fourth to reach the gate because you’ve broken your legs before. The old injury flared up. You were the first out of the Pear Blossom Formation. You’re able to walk now because you used your cultivation technique to heal the injury. The scrapes on your hands and knees are minor… If I’m not mistaken, you’re at least at the mid-stage of Qi Refining.”

“You’re wearing a protective robe, your movements suggest training, yet you’re penniless. You must have run away in a hurry, without even taking any spiritual stones. Am I right?”

Jin Jiamu: “…”

Tao Ning pointed. “Turn it over. It’s burning.”

Jin Jiamu, stunned, quickly flipped the pheasant. “You’re right about everything.”

Her expression turned serious as she drifted into a memory, the firelight illuminating her young, delicate face, which held a weight beyond her years.

She quickly recovered, shaking off the past.

Looking up, she asked, “What about you? Which elder do you want to follow? Sword cultivation? Talismans? Formations? Divination? Alchemy? I want to learn artifact refinement… Oh, and there’s music cultivation too.”

Tao Ning: “I want to become Elder Cen’s disciple.”

Jin Jiamu: “Elder Cen? But she’s famous for not taking disciples. What if she refuses?”

Tao Ning: “I’ll kneel and beg. Guilt trip her.”

Jin Jiamu: “…”

The snow-white bundle: …Perfect. Just like someone who roasts pheasants in the middle of the night.

Tao Ning, finished eating, took a sip of water from her waterskin, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks. “I came all this way for her. I won’t accept anyone else.”

Jin Jiamu, still pondering the meaning of “guilt trip,” found the phrase amusing.

“I understand. I also came specifically for Elder Qianlian. If she refuses… I don’t think she will. I heard she’s very kind.”

They said a master was like a mother. If you could choose your own mother, you’d choose the best one. —Jin Jiamu thought irreverently.

Tao Ning, one hand resting on her temple, smiled faintly. “Do you think Elder Cen believes in tears?”

Jin Jiamu, not quite understanding, but finding the question amusing, laughed. “Why don’t you try?”

The chances of success were slim. As the Disciplinary Hall Elder, Cen Dianshuang had seen countless tears, heard countless apologies. She was probably immune.

Tao Ning had also considered this. Sighing, she said, “Then I’ll have to challenge myself and join Alchemy Peak, the closest peak to the Disciplinary Hall. I must get close to Elder Cen.”

Jin Jiamu, gnawing on a chicken leg, gave her a thumbs-up. “I can sense your determination.”

Tao Ning chuckled, tilting her head back to drink.

The bamboo leaves rustled in the night breeze. The girl in green, sitting by the fire, seemed unusually cheerful, sharing her food and water with a stranger.

After Jin Jiamu revealed her aspirations, Tao Ning’s demeanor had softened considerably.

The snow-white bundle remained silent.

From this distance, it could hear every word.

What is this little fox planning?

Proximity was key. Tao Ning could control her own actions, but not those of others. If Cen Dianshuang refused, she would have to adapt.

The cultivation world wasn’t like the modern world with its laws and regulations. Here, the strong preyed on the weak, and change was constant.

Time was the least valuable commodity. Decades could pass in a single meditation session.

Tao Ning: “If she refuses to take me as her disciple, I hope she’ll suddenly achieve a breakthrough and enter seclusion for a hundred years.”

By then, she would have found the protagonist, completed her mission, and left this world.

The snow-white bundle: “…”

Jin Jiamu voiced its thoughts. Looking up, she said, “So, if you can’t have her, you’ll destroy her?”

Chapter 50: Disciple and Wife

A large mirror dominated the hall. Before it stood a woman in a green robe. Strangely, the mirror didn’t reflect her image, but a vast pear orchard.

Countless white blossoms weighed down the branches, their petals layered like a blanket of snow, creating a path of pure white.

Lying on this expanse of white was a sleeping girl.

She lay peacefully, a slight smile on her lips, covered in fallen petals, seemingly lost in a pleasant dream.

Cen Dianshuang frowned. She recalled that Tao Ning had been pulled into the Realm of Anger within the formation’s Three Poisons and Six Desires after deliberately kicking a pear tree. Why did she look so content?

With a wave of her sleeve, the image in the mirror shifted, showing another trial participant. This one, also trapped in the Realm of Anger, wore a frustrated and resentful expression, her fists clenched tightly in her skirt.

Compared to Tao Ning, she seemed to be experiencing the intended effects of the illusion.

Cen Dianshuang switched back. Tao Ning remained serene, her hands folded peacefully over her stomach.

She suddenly wanted to see what was happening inside Tao Ning’s illusion.

The image in the mirror began to shift, slowly resolving into a blurry, red mass.

Cen Dianshuang, accustomed to the mirror’s quirks, tapped the surface. The image remained unclear. She raised her hand, preparing to infuse the slow, old mirror with some spiritual energy.

“I’ve been looking for you. Turns out I was looking in the wrong place.” Lizhu’s voice echoed from the doorway. Cen Dianshuang lowered her hand, dismissing the image in the mirror with a wave of her sleeve.

Turning, she watched as Lizhu entered, followed by several core elders. Their greetings of “Senior Sister” filled the hall.

As the previous Sect Leader’s last disciple, she was the youngest, yet also the most combative.

The fact that she always won made the others feel slightly inadequate.

Lizhu smiled warmly. “Yes, about what you mentioned the other day…”

Cen Dianshuang coughed awkwardly.

Lizhu’s smile widened. “…about the Frost Flower nectar. I made some inquiries. Your Senior Brother Yaodan said one of his disciples found a patch of Frost Flowers about to bloom. He’ll bring you some nectar when it’s ready.”

Elder Yaodan, an alchemy specialist, was known for his gentle nature and the small bronze furnace that followed him everywhere. He also had the most disciples.

His reasoning was simple: disciples were meant to run errands. Who would gather rare ingredients for him otherwise? Even with his spiritual projections, it wasn’t enough.

A flicker of exasperation crossed Cen Dianshuang’s usually impassive face. Just as she suspected.

Before she could relax, Lizhu changed the subject. “What were you looking at just now?”

Cen Dianshuang stepped aside, revealing the mirror. “Observing the trials.”

It was the second day of the Thousand Illusions Pear Blossom Formation trial. Normally, disciples from Shuhan Peak monitored the participants, recording their behavior and expelling anyone who resorted to violence.

On the third day, the peak masters interested in taking on new disciples would come to observe, though most simply waited at the top of the Ascending Immortal Steps, selecting promising candidates based on first impressions and formally accepting them as nominal disciples during the ceremony in the Hanshan Hall.

The trials were considered a children’s game, hardly worth the attention of seasoned elders.

No one expected Cen Dianshuang, who had previously dismissed the trials as “child’s play,” to be the first to observe.

“Observing the trials?” Elder Yaodan glanced at the blurry white image in the mirror, then at Cen Dianshuang. “Thinking of taking on a disciple, Junior Sister?”

Another elder, dressed in red and carrying a large hammer, immediately protested. “No, Junior Sister shouldn’t take a disciple.”

Within the white expanse of the illusion, Tao Ning, lying beneath a pear tree, opened her eyes. A moment of confusion, then clarity.

Brushing off the petals, she stood and stretched, taking in her surroundings.

She had felt observed while sleeping. She disliked being watched. Time to escape this illusion.

It was expected to be monitored during the trials, but the intensity of the gaze had been unsettling, even within the illusion.

Now, awake, the feeling was gone.

Strange.

Dismissing the thought, she continued towards the exit.

Out of the one hundred and thirty-six trial participants, the most promising were a pair of twins, both with Heavenly spiritual roots. The sister also possessed a Pure Flame physique, ideal for sword cultivation.

The next most promising was a quiet girl with a single Metal spiritual root, a perfect embodiment of the phrase “silence is golden.”

These three emerged from the formation within the first hour of the third day.

Tao Ning, aiming for a middling rank, waited until a dozen or so others had exited before following suit. She doubted anyone would be bored enough to observe her counting.

In unfamiliar environments, she preferred to blend in, avoiding attention.

The remaining participants were still struggling within the formation. Those who emerged would, at best, be granted observer status. If they failed the subsequent assessments three months later, they wouldn’t join the Hanshan Sect.

Cen Dianshuang, observing her emerge fifteenth: …So slow?

She wondered if Tao Ning’s injuries were more severe than she had thought.

Cen Dianshuang, accustomed to excelling in everything, couldn’t comprehend Tao Ning’s deliberate mediocrity. She simply did what was required, nothing more. Now, considering the girl’s loss of cultivation, her slower progress seemed reasonable.

What was this Demonic Realm spy planning?

Despite her racing thoughts, Cen Dianshuang’s expression remained unchanged.

The pungent aroma of medicinal herbs preceded Elder Yaodan’s arrival. He glanced at the stream of people ascending the steps. “Who are you looking at?”

Cen Dianshuang’s gaze flickered downwards.

Elder Yaodan, drawing out his words, commented, “That one? Looks quite innocent.”

Innocent.

Cen Dianshuang gave him a look. “Senior Brother, perhaps I should find you a pair of àidài when we return.” àidài were glasses used to improve eyesight.

-àidài, image reference:

Elder Yaodan, arms crossed, replied without turning, “What do I need glasses for? My vision is perfect. Only the half-blind need those.”

Cen Dianshuang: “I think you might benefit from them.”

Elder Yaodan: ??? Are you insulting me?

He was about to defend his impeccable eyesight, a Soul Transformation cultivator’s senses being far superior to ordinary mortals.

But Cen Dianshuang, anticipating his response, flew away on her sword, leaving him fuming, vowing to add ten pounds of Coptis root to her next batch of pills.

He was then chased by Elder Qianlian, her red robes a blur as she swung her hammer.

“Even if you beat me to a pulp, I’ll make her suffer!”

“Then I’ll beat you to a pulp and save you the trouble.”

“Do you even care about your junior brother?!”

“Of course, Junior Brother. You’re all I see.” She accelerated, her hammer whistling through the air, sending Elder Yaodan fleeing with a yelp.

The four blue-clad disciples stationed at the gate: …Just another day at the Hanshan Sect.

Besides, Elder Yaodan always threatened to add Coptis root to the pills, but he never actually did.

One disciple asked, “What were the elders discussing earlier?”

Another, boredly practicing sword forms, replied, “Reviewing the roster, I think.”

The disciple holding the roster glanced at it. …They didn’t even look at it.

Who was the one Elder Yaodan called innocent?

Tao Ning, diligently climbing the Ascending Immortal Steps, sneezed, rubbing her nose. “520, I think I need to postpone the protagonist assassination plan.”

520 offered its usual platitudes. 【Those obsessed with speedruns are often tripped up by minor bugs. As humans say, ‘patience is a virtue.’】

She couldn’t even find him, let alone kill him.

She would have to get closer to the female protagonist, severing the fated connection at the source, cheering enthusiastically when the protagonist declared her eternal singlehood. “Master is right!”

This meant…

Tao Ning sighed, catching her breath. “This mission is going to take a while.”

520: 【Indeed.】 Enjoy the bitter taste of love, my friend.

Tao Ning paused, one hand on her knee, looking up at the imposing mountain gate. Seeing several figures at the top, she declared, “But I have no regrets.”

520 could only offer silent applause and virtual fireworks as encouragement.

The Ascending Immortal Steps leading to the Hanshan Sect’s gate took a day and a night to climb without using spiritual energy.

Halfway up, large stones lined the path, their surfaces covered in deep, long gashes, radiating a faint pressure, hinting at the immense power behind the strikes.

Tao Ning recognized them as the remnants of sword intent left by powerful Sword Cultivators. Comprehending even a fraction of their essence would be immensely beneficial.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t skilled in swordsmanship. Gaining insights wouldn’t be easy.

The long climb offered ample time for contemplation. Lost in thought, Tao Ning continued upwards, pausing occasionally to rest, unknowingly taking the lead.

Reaching the top, the reality of her accomplishment hadn’t quite sunk in yet. She turned to see a ragged figure sprawled on the steps behind her, gasping for air.

The rags looked familiar, like a tattered yellow robe.

Then, the gasping figure spoke. “How… so fast? I… couldn’t… keep up.”

Tao Ning: …Oh, Cen Dianshuang’s favorite.

She hadn’t noticed the twins who had been doggedly trying to keep pace with her for a day and a night. They were certainly persistent.

The boy’s sister, her hair disheveled, her pink dress torn, clung to his arm, utterly exhausted.

She waved a hand weakly. “I can’t… I can’t anymore… My heart…”

The fourth to arrive was the girl with the single Metal spiritual root, using a pear blossom branch as a walking stick, her hands and knees scraped and bleeding.

Another girl, trailing behind, had practically crawled up the last few steps, tears streaming down her face.

But only Tao Ning remained standing.

The four blue-clad disciples looked at her with surprise, asking her name.

One of them, checking the roster, noticed the absence of any information about her spiritual roots.

“What are your spiritual roots? It’s not listed here.”

Tao Ning turned, feigning embarrassment. “I don’t know. I haven’t been tested yet.”

The disciple’s eyes widened. “Not tested?”

The male disciple beside her echoed her surprise. “How is that possible? Then how did you get here?”

Tao Ning looked anxious, her voice tight. “Two immortal masters, Er Yu and Er Feng, told me Elder Cen sent for me.”

“Elder Cen?”

“She said so herself?”

“That’s… unusual.”

The disciples huddled together, whispering among themselves. One reached for a jade slip, intending to send a message to their elders.

Ultimately, they decided against it. If Elder Cen had brought her here, there must be a reason.

Tao Ning, examining their waist tokens, recognized them as disciples of Shuhan Peak, the Sect Leader’s peak. Their robe embroidery indicated they were direct disciples, not nominal disciples.

Sect Leader Lizhu had hundreds of disciples, over fifty direct disciples, and countless nominal disciples.

This was normal. Only the Disciplinary Hall Elder didn’t take disciples.

The allotted time was up. One of the disciples struck a nearby bell, its clear tone echoing down the mountain. Those still struggling on the steps looked up, bewildered.

The disciple, amplifying his voice with spiritual energy, announced, “Time’s up. Five have reached the top. The remaining ten will enter the Academy.”

Entering the Academy meant becoming outer sect disciples. Out of tens of thousands of applicants, one hundred and thirty-six had been selected. Of those, over a hundred remained trapped in the Pear Blossom Formation, twenty-nine were still on the steps, and only five had reached the Hanshan Sect’s gate.

The path of cultivation was narrow and arduous. Few achieved true immortality in the Radiant Realm.

The female disciple holding the roster addressed the five successful candidates. “Come with me. You can rest and freshen up. The elders will select their disciples tomorrow.”

After three days and nights in the formation and another day and night climbing the steps, even the most refined individuals looked like wildlings, covered in dirt and grime. They couldn’t present themselves to the elders in such a state.

Tao Ning, following them, asked, “May I ask your names, Senior Sisters?”

Addressing them as Senior Sisters was appropriate, as they were all potential disciples of various elders.

The disciple holding the roster tapped her head. “I knew I forgot something! I’m Ji Bai, and this is Ji Ling. We’re both from Shuhan Peak.”

The girl in the pink dress, who had been moments from collapse, perked up, her eyes shining. “Shuhan Peak? That’s the Sect Leader’s peak! You’re the Sect Leader’s disciples!”

Ji Bai and Ji Ling, clearly proud of their lineage, smiled modestly.

The girl, having come specifically to become the Sect Leader’s disciple, was overcome with excitement, chattering incessantly.

The young master in the yellow robe, trailing behind, stared at his hands, his expression troubled. “Even with Heavenly spiritual roots, mine is Earth. Becoming Elder Cen’s disciple will be difficult.”

Glancing at the grey skirt beside him, he suddenly declared, “If I can’t, neither can you!”

Tao Ning, distracted by memorizing the layout of the sect, barely registered his words.

Looking at his retreating back, she shrugged, dismissing him as childish.

His temperament didn’t seem to suit an Earth spiritual root. He seemed more like a Wind or Fire cultivator.

She quickly discarded the thought, shaking her head. “No, no stereotyping. Impulsive and easily provoked Earth cultivators might be rare, but they exist.”

Chapter 49: Disciple and Wife

Tao Ning awoke from a muddled dream to the sight of a wooden bed canopy. Her first instinct was to raise her hand, examining her left fingertips.

Before losing consciousness, she had felt something warm land on them, like a drop of water.

“A hallucination?” But hallucinations weren’t usually so vivid. She must have been delirious from hunger.

Blinking, her expression cleared as she sat up and took in her surroundings. It was an inn; she didn’t need to ask.

The bed curtains were drawn back, the sounds of activity filtering in from the street outside.

Glancing down, she realized she was uncovered. No wonder she had felt a chill.

She got out of bed and went to the window, pushing it open. The sounds of the street intensified. In the distance, she could see the elegant roof of the Ascending Immortal Tower, and through the gaps between the buildings, she glimpsed the queue of aspiring disciples waiting for their spirit root tests.

Footsteps approached. Tao Ning turned to see two young disciples in Hanshan Sect robes entering the room.

“…It’s certainly more interesting than listening to endless pronouncements of ‘five spiritual roots,’ ‘no spiritual roots,’ ‘four spiritual roots,’” the girl remarked as they pushed open the door.

Surprise flickered in Tao Ning’s eyes as she took in their appearance. They were young, inner sect disciples judging by their robes, but not core disciples. Their cultivation levels were relatively low, both at Foundation Establishment.

The female disciple spoke. “You’re awake! Are you feeling alright?”

Tao Ning glanced down, then back up. “Where am I? Who are you? Did you save me?”

“This is an inn. We didn’t save you. Elder Cen did.”

Even in her absence, the reverence in the disciple’s voice when mentioning Cen Dianshuang spoke volumes about the elder’s reputation.

Tao Ning looked at the other disciple, concealing her surprise. “Elder Cen saved me?”

She hadn’t expected such a stroke of luck. Too bad she fainted so quickly; she didn’t even get a good look at the protagonist.

The male disciple explained, “You collapsed in the street. We thought you were dead. But Elder Cen said you were just hungry and gave you a Fasting Pill.”

Tao Ning’s eyes widened in understanding. “That explains the strange taste in my mouth, the cool sensation.”

Her fox-like eyes narrowed as she smiled. “So that’s what a Fasting Pill tastes like.” Disgusting.

The two disciples stared, momentarily captivated.

They had assumed she was a starving beggar, judging by her ragged clothes. They hadn’t expected such a captivating smile.

Tao Ning’s smile faded. “Why are you here?”

The female disciple beamed. “Elder Cen sent us to bring you back.”

Tao Ning: “Back where?”

The male disciple: “To the Hanshan Sect trials.”

Tao Ning was genuinely surprised. Was Cen Dianshuang in the habit of picking up strays? She hadn’t expected such compassion from the seemingly cold and aloof elder.

Perhaps becoming her disciple wasn’t so far-fetched after all.

Unaware of the misunderstanding she had created, Cen Dianshuang listened to the steward’s report on the prospective disciples.

The steward, wary of testing the elder’s patience, spoke quickly, highlighting the candidates with the most promising spiritual roots. “That’s all of them, Elder. Are there any issues?”

This was just the beginning. Those who failed the trials wouldn’t be accepted, becoming students of the Hanshan Academy instead.

Cen Dianshuang opened her eyes, her gaze shifting to the doorway instead of addressing the steward.

Moments later, a female disciple arrived on her sword, landing gracefully before bowing respectfully. “As per your instructions, Elder, I have brought the person and placed them below the Ascending Immortal Tower.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Name.”

The disciple, momentarily confused, replied, “My name is Er Yu.”

The two disciples had been assigned from the Hanshan Academy to attend to Cen Dianshuang. The female disciple was Er Yu, the male disciple Er Feng, both of the “Er” generation, confirming their non-core disciple status.

Cen Dianshuang clarified, “Not your name.”

The two disciples, who had been chattering like excited birds on their way back, were now silent as mice in Cen Dianshuang’s presence, trying to project an image of composure and reliability.

Not her name, then the grey-clad girl’s name.

Realization dawned on Er Yu, her face flushing slightly. “She said her name is… Tao, of left ear. Ning, of restless.”

Er Feng had commented that the girl probably lacked education, hence the strange phrasing. Er Yu agreed.

So, she rephrased, “Tao, of left ear. Ning, of peace.”

Silence descended, the air growing colder.

The steward noticed a subtle shift in the elder’s expression, almost imperceptible, yet unmistakable.

Cen Dianshuang: “…Ning, of peace?” That was her name.

Nothing about that girl suggested peace. She seemed more likely to poke holes in the sky given a stick.

Er Yu, resisting the urge to rub her arms, asked hesitantly, “Did I do something wrong?”

Elder Cen, please don’t just radiate oppressive aura without speaking. I’m only at Foundation Establishment. I can’t handle it.

“No,” Cen Dianshuang said, turning to the steward. “Add that name to the list. We’ll depart shortly.”

“Yes.” The steward nodded, then remembered something. “But her spiritual roots…?”

He looked up, but Elder Cen was gone. Er Yu, still not accustomed to the elder’s sudden movements, lingered for a moment, further solidifying the impression of Cen Dianshuang’s swift and decisive nature.

Downstairs, Tao Ning sat alone by the window, observing the other prospective disciples without engaging in their conversations.

They, in turn, were curious about the girl brought in by the two “immortal masters,” their gazes filled with curiosity and scrutiny.

To them, Er Yu and Er Feng, Academy disciples capable of flight, were figures of awe.

After a while, with no sign of any other Hanshan Sect members, someone approached Tao Ning.

It was a teenage boy, more mature than the others, his family having fallen on hard times, driving him to seek an immortal path.

“I have dual Water and Metal spiritual roots. What about you?” He hoped to gain favor with a potential prodigy, perhaps securing some assistance during the trials.

Tao Ning shrugged. “Haven’t been tested. I don’t know.”

Her casual response startled him. He realized he hadn’t seen her during the spirit root testing.

Undeterred, he pressed further. “Then why were you brought here by Academy disciples?”

This question drew the attention of several eavesdroppers. They were all curious.

There was nothing remarkable about this girl. Why had Elder Cen shown her such favor, rescuing her and even, as rumor had it, shedding a tear and offering her a precious pill?

Tao Ning mirrored his puzzled expression, her eyes widening slightly. “Funny, I was just wondering the same thing.”

The boy: “…”

Trying to extract information from Tao Ning was like trying to outsmart a fox. He exhausted his conversational skills, but learned nothing.

Scratching his head in frustration, he gave up as another boy, seated nearby, slammed his teacup down. “I don’t understand. You seem so ordinary. Why is Elder Cen so kind to you? They even cried for you!”

This was the most baffling part.

Tao Ning glanced at him, recognizing him from his flamboyant clothes as the young master who had argued with the protagonist, the one favored by Cen Dianshuang.

But she was more intrigued by something else. Tilting her head, she asked, “Cried?”

She hadn’t heard that part. It was news to her.

The young master glared, as if accusing her of feigning ignorance.

A girl, also dressed in fine clothes, rested her chin on her hand, a dreamy expression on her face. “Perhaps she’s Elder Cen’s reincarnated lover? Finally reunited, tears of joy?”

Tao Ning, mid-sip, choked on her tea. “Pfft— Cough! Cough!”

The young master looked offended, as if he had heard blasphemy. He jumped to his feet. “Impossible! Elder Cen is a powerful sword cultivator, aloof and solitary. She wouldn’t have a lover, past or present!”

His sister tugged on his sleeve. “Calm down, Brother. Elder Cen is just upstairs. What if she hears you and finds you annoying?”

This was more effective than any silencing spell. The young master’s protests subsided to a low grumble.

He sat back down, muttering, “It’s impossible. Maybe she cultivates the Path of No Emotions.”

“She doesn’t cultivate the Path of No Emotions.”

Two voices spoke simultaneously. The young master glared at Tao Ning, then realized there was another voice.

A disciple in bamboo-green robes stood at the doorway, her hand resting on her sword. Looking at the young master, she said cheerfully, “Elder Cen cultivates both sword and music. She’s a Sword Cultivator and a Music Cultivator.”

His face reddening again at being contradicted, the young master allowed his sister to pull him back down.

Scanning the room, the disciple smiled warmly. “I’m Er Lan. You can call me Senior Sister Er Lan. Elder Cen has sent me to take you to the trial grounds. If you’re ready, let’s go.”

Many straightened up, their expressions eager.

Tao Ning also sat up straighter, but unlike the others, who avoided Er Lan’s gaze, she met her eyes briefly before observing her discreetly.

Though sharing the “Er” generation name, her distinct bamboo-green robes indicated she wasn’t an Academy disciple. The token at her waist identified her as a nominal disciple of the Alchemy Peak.

Nominal disciples of elders held a higher status than Academy disciples, having a direct lineage and a clearer path to becoming full disciples. They also received more advanced instruction.

However, becoming a full disciple depended on individual talent. Many remained nominal disciples for their entire lives.

Tao Ning’s interest in Er Lan wasn’t casual curiosity. Her first thought was: Ah, the Demonic Saintess has arrived.

The original host, having glimpsed a sliver of destiny a thousand years ago, had disappeared from the Demonic Realm. Her absence had triggered a power struggle, leading to the rise of a new Demon Lord, who had adopted a daughter and, upon her coming of age, declared her the Saintess.

Two hundred years ago, the new Demon Lord had sent the Saintess to infiltrate the Hanshan Sect. She had painstakingly secured a position as a nominal disciple of the Alchemy Peak, remaining inconspicuous, awaiting further instructions.

Everything would begin after the male protagonist became Cen Dianshuang’s disciple.

In the original storyline, the Saintess would stumble upon a hidden secret of the Hanshan Sect, a secret that could threaten their position as the leading sect.

Excited by her discovery, her eagerness to uncover more would become her undoing, leading to her death at the hands of one of the protagonist’s harem members during Cen Dianshuang’s sect cleansing.

Cen Dianshuang, the Disciplinary Hall Elder, had a temper and a talent for killing those above her level. She was a professional house cleaner.

Not only did she cleanse her own sect, but she also assisted her fellow elders, earning her the reputation of a heartless cultivator.

She single-handedly turned a typical male protagonist harem novel into a tragic tale of unfulfilled potential. Ironically, she would eventually die sealing the Wanhun Cauldron, causing the timeline to collapse.

Following Er Lan’s gesture, the prospective disciples filed out of the tower and into the courtyard behind it.

The courtyard, far from ordinary, was a vast expanse, its size artificially enhanced by artifacts.

Gasps of awe and excitement rippled through the group.

Several others were already waiting, including Er Yu and Er Feng, two stewards in charge of the tower, and a Nascent Soul cultivator permanently stationed in the outer territory.

A woman in white, carrying a zither and a sword, stood with her back to them.

The Nascent Soul cultivator spoke to her respectfully.

Though only two realms apart—he was at early Nascent Soul, while she was at peak Nascent Soul—he wouldn’t last three moves against her in a fight.

Cen Dianshuang’s cultivation had advanced so rapidly that the Sect Leader, concerned about her foundation, had instructed her to slow down. Otherwise, she would have already reached Soul Transformation.

Even from behind, everyone recognized her as Elder Cen.

Tao Ning also observed the figure, finally seeing the protagonist in person, albeit only her back.

For some reason, she felt a warmth in her left fingertips, an inexplicable urge for the woman to turn around.

The figure didn’t look familiar.

Tao Ning closed her eyes, regaining her composure.

Seeing that everyone had assembled, the Nascent Soul cultivator bowed and stepped back. A steward stepped forward. “Elder Cen, the one hundred and thirty-six trial participants are ready.”

Cen Dianshuang turned her head slightly, as if about to acknowledge them, but then stopped, simply giving a curt nod.

Very aloof. Very enigmatic.

The one hundred and thirty-five trial participants, excluding Tao Ning, didn’t find her aloofness off-putting. Their eyes shone with admiration. This was the aura of a true powerhouse.

Cen Dianshuang’s voice, clear and melodious, rang out. “Since everyone is here, let’s begin.”

With a flick of her wide sleeve, she enveloped them in her spatial storage technique.

The disoriented group found themselves in a fragrant pear orchard.

Cen Dianshuang’s voice echoed from above, seemingly coming from the heavens. “The Thousand Illusions Pear Blossom Formation. Those who escape within three days and reach the mountain gate will be accepted as direct disciples. You each have three Fasting Pills.”

They looked up to see Cen Dianshuang, Er Yu, and Er Feng hovering on their swords.

The distance wasn’t far enough to warrant using a spirit boat. Cen Dianshuang, disliking unnecessary fuss, had simply transported them with a wave of her sleeve.

Tao Ning couldn’t see Cen Dianshuang’s face clearly from this distance, or the rumored beauty mark on her forehead.

They said Elder Cen was exceptionally beautiful. Even blurred and distant, Tao Ning’s first impression was simply: Beautiful.

While Tao Ning couldn’t see clearly, the other participants craned their necks, straining for a better view, before giving up and looking at the pill bottles in their hands.

Tao Ning held hers up, shaking it. After decades of enjoying delicious, flavorful food in the modern world, these pills were an insult to her taste buds.

She thought of the ill-tempered little bird. If it were here, she would crush the pills and mix them into its food, just to hear it chirp in protest.

But the ungrateful creature was nowhere to be found.

Cen Dianshuang felt a sudden chill, glancing down at the grey-clad girl shaking the pill bottle before turning away, a complex expression in her eyes.

With the rules explained, the participants began searching for a way out of the formation. No one wanted to partner with Tao Ning after her uncooperative behavior in the tower.

And Elder Cen hadn’t even looked at her. Perhaps she had been mistaken.

They dispersed in small groups, leaving Tao Ning alone.

Putting away the pill bottle, Tao Ning found a stick and began drawing in the sand. She wasn’t in a hurry.

The Thousand Illusions Pear Blossom Formation had no day or night, its illusions triggered by the participants’ desires and fears, often in unpredictable ways. A simple cough under a tree could be enough to trap someone.

It was a test of one’s Dao Heart. Those with weak wills would struggle to escape.

The storyline didn’t offer a detailed description of the formation. The protagonist, having already become a nominal disciple, wouldn’t participate in the trials. And the original host hadn’t faced this test either, having been brought directly into the Hanshan Sect.

But this wasn’t a problem for Tao Ning. She might lack cultivation and memories, but she had a brain.

After a moment of thought, she sketched a rough outline in the sand.

Artifact refinement was a demanding craft, less reliant on talent and physique than sword cultivation, requiring diligence and patience. It demanded hours spent shaping and tempering materials, a keen sensitivity to spiritual energy.

Most artifact refiners were also proficient in formations, etching them onto their creations day after day. It was hard not to learn.

Tao Ning stood up, dusting off her hands, and walked into the sea of white pear blossoms.

---

“What? It’s already over? Isn’t today the last day?”

“It is the last day, but the sun has already set. The trial participants are already inside,” the steward explained.

Looking at the dejected young man before him, he felt a pang of sympathy. “Rules are rules. Perhaps you are not meant for the Hanshan Sect. The Changfeng Sect’s disciple acceptance ceremony is soon. Perhaps you should consider another sect.”

Xiao Haoran’s mind reeled. Another sect? Impossible!

He had to join the Hanshan Sect, become Cen Dianshuang’s disciple, and receive the medicine to awaken his true bloodline.

It had seemed so simple in the Heavenly Book. Why was it so complicated in reality?

“No, I endured so much hardship to reach the Hanshan Sect… I won’t rest until I join, even as a servant!”

The steward: “But…” He understood the boy’s desperation, but there was nothing he could do.

Suddenly remembering something, Xiao Haoran continued, “I won’t make things difficult for you. Even a servant’s position would be enough. It was my mother’s dying wish. I don’t want her soul to find no peace.”

He reached out and grabbed the steward’s hand.

“Becoming a servant disciple isn’t that easy…” The steward, initially sympathetic, now felt uncomfortable being touched by the dirty beggar, trying to pull his hand away. He felt something being pressed into his palm.

He looked down to see a mid-grade spiritual stone, worth several months of his salary.

Xiao Haoran explained, “I don’t know what this glowing stone is. My mother gave it to me, saying it was very precious. I offer it to you, hoping for a chance.”

It was a bonus item from another opportunity he had found, making him resent the loss of the three Heaven-grade artifacts even more.

A servant disciple was still a disciple. He would find a way.

The steward hesitated. “This puts me in a difficult position.”

A cheerful voice interrupted. “What’s so difficult? We’re short a furnace tender on Alchemy Peak. He seems sincere enough. He can become a servant disciple there.”

They turned to see a woman in bamboo-green robes approaching, a sword at her waist, her tasseled hairpin swaying with her movements.

Xiao Haoran quickly spoke up. “Thank you, Immortal Sister!”

Calling her Immortal Sister was premature, but if it achieved his goal, it didn’t matter.

Er Lan, her eyes filled with feigned sympathy, gestured gracefully. “Look at this poor child, exhausted from his journey. Steward Lu, take him to freshen up. He can join me in a few days.”

She had remained in the outer territory to collect medicine for a senior brother on Alchemy Peak. This was an unexpected bonus.

The steward, seeing an opportunity, agreed. “Come with me.”

Xiao Haoran, seemingly on the verge of tears, thanked them profusely.

Er Lan watched them go, her arms crossed, a glint of amusement in her eyes. Interesting. I sense a trace of demonic energy.

It was faint, barely perceptible, fleeting, but there.

Anything that could disrupt the Radiant Realm was worth pursuing.

Chapter 48: Disciple and Wife p2

Everyone knew Sect Leader Lizhu was fiercely protective. Offending her directly might be forgiven, but harming someone under her protection was a guaranteed invitation for fiery retribution.

Lizhu: “Then what happened?”

Frost Flowers bloomed once every hundred years, their blossoms lasting only an hour before withering. Their blooming cycle followed no discernible pattern, making their nectar incredibly rare. The patch in Frost Moon Valley had been discovered by the previous sect leader, who had deciphered its unpredictable rhythm.

The nectar, when refined into an elixir, enhanced Cen Dianshuang’s cultivation and masked her true aura. That’s why she collected it every hundred years.

But the nectar was also sweet, delicious in tea, pastries, or even eaten raw.

While Immortal Dianshuang now instilled fear in the Hanshan Sect, she had been a rather… spirited child. Lizhu often used Frost Flower nectar tea to soothe her.

This had instilled in Cen Dianshuang a lifelong habit of enjoying a cup of nectar tea every morning.

Cen Dianshuang, having no intention of hiding anything, recounted her recent experiences.

However, she wasn’t a natural storyteller, her account dry and factual, focusing on the suspect’s appearance and key events, downplaying the fact that she had been eating the girl’s food for days.

Lizhu listened, taking a sip of her spiritual tea. “A minor spy. Just eliminate her.”

Cen Dianshuang, cradling the delicate teacup, considered this, then shook her head. “Her motives are unclear. We have no proof, no justification. Taking a life unnecessarily is wrong.”

Lizhu nodded. “That’s true.”

An ordinary spy could be dealt with easily, but one possessing a Golden Jade Silk robe warranted further investigation.

Lizhu: “Unraveling the mystery might prove beneficial.”

Cen Dianshuang: “She intends to become my disciple.” To kill my other disciple.

Cen Dianshuang had never taken a disciple, nominal or otherwise. She had no attendants, no companions, preferring solitude.

This was another reason for the fear she inspired. Wangshu Peak, her residence, was devoid of disciples, leaving the others to speculate about her temperament, their fear growing with every whispered rumor.

Lizhu choked on her tea, coughing as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “She wants to become your disciple?”

Cen Dianshuang: “Yes.”

Without hesitation, Lizhu declared, “Absolutely not. Wangshu Peak cannot accept such a disciple, especially someone suspected of being from the Demonic Realm. Bring her back, and I’ll deal with her myself.”

Cen Dianshuang agreed. Wangshu Peak was no place for a potential spy.

Lizhu’s expression hardened, her demeanor shifting to that of the Sect Leader. “The two realms have enjoyed peace for over a thousand years since Qingji. The new Demon Lord is restless, constantly provoking us. It’s time to remind them that the Hanshan Sect is not to be trifled with.”

Qingji’s name hadn’t been spoken in the Radiant Realm for a thousand years. Those who knew of her connection to the Hanshan Sect were mostly dead, except for Lizhu and the elders.

Even Lizhu had only seen Qingji from afar, as a child, addressing her as Grand Ancestor.

Cen Dianshuang, having joined the sect much later, only knew her name and reputation as an unconventional and impulsive figure.

A few days later, Cen Dianshuang descended the mountain on the Sect Leader’s orders. The Hanshan Sect’s fifty-year disciple acceptance ceremony had begun.

Though leading the expedition, she wasn’t in charge of the proceedings. Her role was primarily to maintain order and prevent any disturbances.

Cen Dianshuang’s name carried weight. Those hoping to curry favor or exploit connections to bypass the tests quickly abandoned their plans upon learning of her presence.

Best not to cross Immortal Dianshuang. Better to give her a wide berth.

On the first day of testing, Cen Dianshuang made a brief appearance at the Ascending Immortal Tower. Surprisingly, she didn’t see the familiar figure among the young hopefuls.

Initially, she wondered if she had misremembered the girl’s face.

But she couldn’t sense the girl’s aura either. The grey-clad young woman always had a sly glint in her fox-like eyes, an air of casual indifference about her. Cen Dianshuang circulated through the crowd, met with looks of awe and apprehension, but didn’t find the person she was looking for.

Perhaps the girl had reconsidered?

It was possible. She might have found a more suitable opportunity elsewhere.

One less potential problem was a good thing. No one wanted more spies in their sect. Cen Dianshuang decided to let it go.

However, after several days without any sign of the girl, she felt a flicker of annoyance, a sense of being… played.

—She had picked up the term from the girl herself. It seemed to imply deception.

Outside the city gates, Tao Ning muttered, “Is the protagonist late? The ceremony ends tomorrow. They’ll be taking the selected disciples on a trial soon. I still haven’t seen Xiao Haoran.”

Xiao Haoran was the protagonist’s name. She had discreetly questioned the other candidates, but none of them were him.

And the arrogant young master hadn’t caused any trouble, simply maintaining a stony expression as Tao Ning passed, trying to hide his disdain.

Not particularly well-mannered. Tao Ning, pretending not to notice the strategically placed rock at his feet, watched as he tripped, landing face-first in the dirt before scrambling to his feet and fleeing into the nearest inn, his face burning with shame.

Tao Ning stood up, intending to stretch her cramped legs, when a wave of dizziness washed over her.

She grabbed a tree trunk for support, remembering that she hadn’t rested properly since crippling her cultivation. Her blood sugar was probably low.

Her plan had always prioritized intercepting the protagonist over becoming Cen Dianshuang’s disciple. She had been staking out the place for days, but he was nowhere to be found.

Fearing she might collapse before completing her mission, she decided to give up and head into the city for food. Her rations were gone.

“Who knew the Supreme Ruler of the Demonic Realm would be susceptible to low blood sugar?” Tao Ning muttered, chewing on a sweetgrass stalk as she walked towards the city.

The Hanshan Sect’s outer territory was larger than a city.

520: 【I also didn’t expect you to cripple your cultivation so readily.】

Tao Ning: “So it worked out perfectly. Time for Plan B. Always have a backup.”

520, genuinely puzzled, asked, 【Aren’t you worried about the plan failing?】

Tao Ning shrugged. “It’s simple. If it fails, I’ll come up with another plan.” She would tunnel into the Hanshan Sect if necessary.

Just as she declared this, another wave of dizziness hit her. She could barely walk, finding a secluded corner to crouch down.

She suddenly missed that bowl of porridge from Ten Directions City.

Her vision blurred, the sounds around her fading. She thought she heard someone say, “What’s wrong with Immortal Dianshuang?”

Pristine white robes appeared before her eyes, a pale sword hanging at the waist. Only a cultivator would dress like that. Without thinking, Tao Ning grabbed the hem of the robe.

Her vision was too blurry to see clearly. She didn’t care who it was, or if the robe was clean. She just needed this person to buy her a steamed bun.

What did mortals call cultivators again…?

Oh, right. Immortal Master.

She wanted to say, “Immortal Master, hungry, food.”

But looking up at the cool, serene face, the distinctive beauty mark on the forehead, her mind went blank, and the words came out garbled. “Master, hungry, food.”

Then, her eyes closed, and she slumped to the ground.

Cen Dianshuang, accosted by a beggar: “…”

The girl had collapsed dramatically, oblivious to the shocked stares of the onlookers, which quickly turned to admiration.

She dared to touch Immortal Dianshuang’s robe! Such audacity! Even Cen Dianshuang’s own disciples kept a respectful distance.

Whispers rippled through the crowd, curious eyes turning towards the scene.

Cen Dianshuang was no less surprised. Quickly sensing something amiss, she reached out to check the girl’s pulse, arriving at an even more unbelievable conclusion.

No cultivation? Unconscious from hunger?

What had happened to her in just a few days?

Had she mistaken her for someone else?

Ignoring the stares, the ethereal Immortal Dianshuang lowered herself gracefully, studying the unconscious girl for a moment before reaching out.

Her slender fingers found the girl’s pulse, her brow furrowing slightly. She then checked the girl’s neck, her expression shifting to one of surprise.

She saw the familiar edge of the Heaven-grade robe, confirming her initial assessment.

Looking at the girl’s face, a single tear rolled down her cheek, landing on the girl’s fingertip.

“…!”

Now, not only the crowd, but Cen Dianshuang herself was shocked. She touched her wet cheek, as if questioning the tear’s origin.

What was going on?