Chapter 25

Even as she spoke, Yun Shuchen didn't pick up her chopsticks. Instead, she rested her chin on her hand and looked up at her. Qing Zhouxue had barely taken a few bites before she felt uneasy. She set down her bowl gently. "I'm full."

"Is that so?" Yun Shuchen smiled. "Then take some of the almond custard back with you."

"Master, how did you know I like this?" Qing Zhouxue was taken aback; her guess was spot on.

"Because you usually prefer sweet flavors. Just now, your gaze kept lingering on that empty bowl."

Perhaps her master was simply meticulous by nature, not just toward her alone.

But in the end, she had been watching her all along.

This was ordinarily a plain remark, yet Qing Zhouxue felt a sense of peace, and a quiet joy as secretive as the gentle spring rain.

She didn't know why she was happy.

Yun Shuchen sensed her disciple's lift in mood, even her tone becoming lighter. "Then I'll follow Master's advice."

Truly, she was still a greedy little girl.

Yun Shuchen thought to herself.

She hadn't considered a deeper layer; she simply assumed her disciple was delighted over the delicious food.

Differences in Spiritual Roots usually corresponded to personality. Cultivators with Ice Spiritual Roots were rare, naturally detached and restrained—most suited for the path of cultivation.

Compared to her peers, Qing Zhouxue's emotions seemed washed clean, like viewing flowers through mist—not as distinct.

It was rare to glimpse her visibly happy.

She couldn't help but steal a few more glances.

The next day, Qing Zhouxue and her fellow senior and junior sisters returned to Sunsun Creek in Zhushan Village to find the family. The house was empty. They searched nearby and discovered Wang Wu and his mother, barefoot, cutting rice in the terraced paddies.

As soon as the elder woman saw them, her brows furrowed.

Lin Xunzhen seemed to have a plan already; she didn't mention anything about cultivation. Her gaze swept over the golden expanse of rice, then returned, and she asked politely, "Auntie, do you need help?"

The woman gripped her sickle and waved her hand hastily. "You cultivators with such delicate skin—how could you do this kind of work?"

Qing Zhouxue thought for a moment and seemed to understand Lin Xunzhen's intention. She observed how Wang Wu gathered the rice stalks together and cut them with the curved knife.

She plucked a stalk, pinched off a section with her thumb, and asked, "Should I leave it this long?"

Wang Wu nodded, puzzled.

Then the white-robed female cultivator, expressionless, drew her long sword. A sword aura swept out, and with a clatter, a row of rice ears all fell.

His sickle nearly dropped too.

Wang Wu stood frozen, almost kneeling. "...Amazing."

"Now there's only the picking left," Lin Xunzhen said. "That can't be helped. Let's pick together; with more hands, we'll finish the work faster."

After collecting the rice ears, they continued cutting all the stalks, bundling them tightly and carrying them to the side.

Soon, that golden patch of land became bare again.

No one had expected that this group of seemingly delicate young girls could finish three days' work in a single day.

"How did they do that?"

Wang Wu watched enviously as Ruan Mingzhu hoisted a bundle of stalks three times her size, walking briskly and easily tossing it aside, then casually dusting off her shoulder. "Get it? This is the beauty of cultivation."

With the rice cut and the stalks thrown, their conversation found a turning point. Aunt Wang still frowned for a long while, but after much persuasion, she finally decided to offer up her skinny son to let the immortals complete their task.

Qing Zhouxue and Bai Su stood in place without moving, while Lin and Ruan heaved a sigh of relief and pulled Wang Wu to an open area. Aunt Wang rubbed her hands together, noticing Qing Zhouxue staring at her eerily, as if sizing her up.

"Girl... why are you looking at me?"

"Nothing," Qing Zhouxue withdrew her gaze. "We will also teach you to guide qi into your body."

Her face stiffened. "At my age, my bones are already hard. Why learn cultivation?"

"Sect orders," Qing Zhouxue said, lowering her eyes with an indifferent expression.

The woman then tried to change the subject, saying she had chores at home and no time for such skills. Qing Zhouxue immediately followed up, "If there's anything, Senior Sister and I can help."

At those words, the woman's lips turned pale in an instant.

Suddenly, a flash of snowy sword light—Qing Zhouxue's three-foot Qingshuang Sword was already pressed against the woman's throat.

"You're not human at all," she said coldly.

With a whoosh, the figure vanished, and a slender, light-yellow creature darted down from the edge of the blade, incredibly agile.

But the cold aura of the Qingshuang Sword could freeze in an instant. A grayish-yellow lump of ice fell, and the two hurried over to see—it was a squirming weasel.

While the ice immobilizing its limbs hadn't melted yet, Qing Zhouxue grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and lifted it. A foul stench hit her; she held her breath and held it farther away in disgust.

It was a demon.

She turned to consult Bai Su. "What should we do now?"

"How did you discover it, Junior Sister?" Bai Su was astonished. "This creature must have some skill to hide its aura so well."

"Intuition," Qing Zhouxue said. "From the first day, I felt it cautious of us."

"It was the look of prey spotting a natural enemy," she said, staring at the weasel's small, beady eyes. "Mortals shouldn't have that."

For some reason, her instincts had always been accurate.

In her childhood, before she had tied the red string given by her master, calamity had followed her everywhere, always threatening her life. It was precisely through this beast-like intuition that she had stumbled her way to age eight.

The weasel, now at her mercy, squeaked, "I've cultivated for many years. I've never done anything against heaven's will, nor have I eaten human flesh or drunk human blood!"

Bai Su shook her head. "Even if it was unintentional—" She paused, frowning in concern. "Junior Sister Qing, I'm afraid I need to check on Wang Wu."

They found Ruan Mingzhu and the others in the bamboo grove. The scene before them was alarming: Wang Wu lay on the ground, his face deathly pale, his tendons bulging and writhing as if something were burrowing inside, making his features twisted grotesquely.

Ruan Mingzhu crouched beside him, patting his face with a deep frown, shouting his name. Lin Xunzhen stood nearby with a grave expression, and when she looked up at Qing Zhouxue, she was surprised. "Junior Sister? Weren't you two..."

Bai Su immediately felt Wang Wu's pulse. "Has he already started to cultivate?"

"Yes," Lin Xunzhen said. "We just taught him some basic breathing techniques, but unexpectedly, he became like this. Very strange."

"He's a mortal with demonic qi in his body, accidentally contaminated," Bai Su said solemnly. "And now, having absorbed the spiritual qi of heaven and earth, the two energies clash in his meridians—his life is in danger."

Ruan Mingzhu's face darkened. "This kid can't die!"

"How could he have demonic qi?"

Their gazes shot toward the weasel clutched in Qing Zhouxue's hand.

"This demon disguised itself as Wang Wu's mother—who knows its intentions? Where is his real mother?" Qing Zhouxue frowned.

Bai Su sighed. "Let's take him back to the Taichu Sect first. Saving his life is the priority."

Those words somehow provoked the weasel, which had been motionless. A sharp pain shot through Qing Zhouxue's hand, blood gushing from a wound on her pale wrist. Caught off guard, she released it, and the creature broke free.

"Give me back my children!"

This weasel clearly had some cultivation. It had been feigning cowardice earlier. Once on the ground, its demonic aura fully emerged, seeming to lose all reason. Its body swelled to the size of a small hill, its eyes reddened terribly, and claws three feet long lunged at the group.

Lin Xunzhen reacted swiftly—a water shield appeared before her to withstand the claws. She turned and shouted urgently, "Take Wang Wu and go! Return to the Taichu Sect!"

Qing Zhouxue and Bai Su dragged Wang Wu into retreat just in time. The weasel demon snarled, trying to seize Wang Wu back. Lin Xunzhen couldn't withstand its desperate struggle; a crack opened in the water shield, and she fell to the ground. The wind-borne claws swung mercilessly toward her abdomen—

The weasel's long, sharp fangs parted, ready to bite her neck, accompanied by a foul stench blasting toward her.

Her heartbeat skipped.

Her pupils shrank, staring into the unfathomable bloody maw, her whole body frozen, unable to move an inch.

But the searing pain never came.

A clang—claw met long blade, crimson flames blazing on the edge.

Lin Xunzhen looked up and caught a glimpse of a red hem of a garment, burning as hot as the fire.

Ruan Mingzhu was bracing against the massive beast; her arm muscles were taut to the limit, clearly straining, but her mouth refused to yield. She shot a glare back. "I told you, if you can't win, just hide behind me!"

With a movement of her arm, she shook off the creature's claws. Red Lotus Karmic Fire rose from under the demon's feet, scorching so that it had no place to set its four paws. Seizing that brief moment of space, Lin Xunzhen snapped back to her senses, scrambled up, and turned to flee.

But after only a few steps, she stopped.

Demons capable of taking human form were not simple; with at least a century of cultivation, and now risking its life, it was savage.

She looked back—Ruan Mingzhu was clearly at a disadvantage, already showing signs of weakening, but that stubborn girl was as obstinate as a mule, and once fighting, there was no retreating.

She had no fondness for this arrogant woman, who had once publicly humiliated her.

If Junior Sister Ruan were gravely injured and couldn't participate in future competitions—the only source of discord in this team would be eliminated.

But—

She wavered for a moment.

Lin Xunzhen took a deep breath and turned back.

By now, Ruan Mingzhu had been cornered by the mad weasel demon to the edge of a cliff on Bamboo Mountain.

Lin Xunzhen caught sight of her and shouted urgently, "Go away! Don't get in the way!"

Lin Xunzhen ignored her cries, rapidly thinking how to defuse this peril. Her heart pounded like a drum, forcing herself to stay calm. She hid behind a boulder, watching intently the entangled figures of one person and one demon, seeking the perfect moment.

Ruan Mingzhu performed an upward crescent slash; the creature's jaws opened wide, grinning and leaning back—

Lin Xunzhen seized the chance. Raising both hands, she formed a rope of soft water that lassoed around the weasel's open fangs from behind, forcing its neck to tilt high.

Now.

Its vulnerable belly was exposed.

Ruan Mingzhu understood. Her blade plunged deep inside, spraying demonic blood across her face. Lin Xunzhen flew forward swiftly, slapping a talisman from her pocket onto the demon's crown.

A shrill howl.

It collapsed like a mountain.

The massive demonic form dissipated, leaving behind only a wilted, slender mouse still squirming on the ground.

Lin Xunzhen was elated, heaving a sigh of relief, but then noticed Ruan Mingzhu's hand go slack; the blade clattered to the ground. She knelt, pale and breath ragged.