Chapter 83

On the last day of the disciples' training expedition, Ruan Mingzhu finally returned from outside.

Since she was supposed to behave properly in the mortal world without using any spells, she had led a white horse from somewhere to speed her journey.

Lin Xunzhen was at the sect gate, holding a register of disciples' names. She had set up a table and a chair in a patch of shade. From a distance, she spotted the girl in red astride the white horse, her dark hair flying, dazzling and radiant as she galloped toward the gate.

A curtain of water blocked the entrance.

Ruan Mingzhu touched the tip of her blade to the ground, vaulted off the horse, and grabbed the reins, laughing. "What, you came out specially to welcome me?"

Lin Xunzhen gave a faint smile. "You're the last one from this batch to return. If you hadn't cut it this close to the deadline, I wouldn't be sitting here now."

A piece of paper slapped over coldly. Ruan Mingzhu caught it, marked off her name in red ink, and said, "Well, I had no idea you were in charge of this."

"If I'd known, I'd have delayed a few more days!" She snorted with a laugh.

"Miss the deadline and you'll be disqualified. That would only mean you get to enjoy a cup of tea at the Sect Leader's hall and perhaps copy out a few scriptures—no loss to me." Lin Xunzhen was gradually getting used to Ruan Mingzhu's constant teasing.

At least she didn't cause chaos during real fights anymore; everything else, Lin Xunzhen couldn't be bothered to argue with this woman whose head didn't seem quite right.

"Let's go."

The last bird had returned to its nest. Lin Xunzhen could now report to the Sect Leader. She deftly retrieved her table and chair into her storage ring, checked the registers once more to ensure nothing was missing, and walked with Ruan Mingzhu toward the inner gate.

Ruan Mingzhu led her horse, chattering about the sights she'd seen along the way. Lin Xunzhen found it rather novel—in just a few months, it seemed she had traveled the length and breadth of the land.

"The other day I was wandering around and ducked into a secret realm for some fun." Ruan Mingzhu pulled something from her storage ring—a round, blood-red egg. "Ran into a mangy bird that tried to peck at me, so I gave it a beating. Then after it died, it refused to disperse and turned into this?"

Lin Xunzhen looked closely. The shell had intricate, noble patterns—surely no ordinary object.

She said cautiously, "To be safe, you should have an elder examine it. This thing looks quite extraordinary."

"Ah," just then, Ruan Mingzhu spotted Qing Zhouxue from a distance. She was surprised for a moment, then couldn't help asking, "She didn't just go down the mountain for a day and end up planting herself back on Heyi Peak?"

Qing Zhouxue was still focusing on her sword practice. Seeing her two senior sisters approaching, she stopped her sword stance.

"Where's Master Yun?" Ruan Mingzhu always greeted her this way, since Qing was taciturn and only spoke more when Yun Shuchen was mentioned.

Qing Zhouxue said, "She's on the peak."

"Strange. No one's here for a spar today, so why are you hanging around the practice grounds alone?"

"My master said..." Qing Zhouxue held her sword horizontally, running her finger along the blade to wipe away a thin layer of frost. "My spell range is expanding, and when I use the sword, I can't help freezing some things. Her flowers have died two pots from repeated freezing and thawing, so I came here to practice."

"..."

The transition from Golden Core to Nascent Soul was a special period.

Before Core Formation, sword cultivators fought with clashing metal, as plain as warriors with good lightness skills.

After that, the dantian grew fuller, spells caught up, and attacks were no longer limited to a three-foot radius.

Ruan Mingzhu found it amusing at first—so Yun Shuchen had a hobby of tending potted plants—but then she couldn't help sighing, "Senior sister is already so strong. I need to catch up."

The egg in her hands was too eye-catching. Qing Zhouxue stared at the blood-red thing for a long moment. "What is that?"

"No idea. I plan to give it to my eagle to hatch," Ruan Mingzhu said. "If it doesn't hatch, we'll have egg soup."

"What if it's some great fortune? Don't mess around. Don't..." Lin Xunzhen's head ached at her words.

Ruan Mingzhu turned and jumped away, apparently heading back to her peak. In a few blinks she was several zhang off, her voice floating back: "I know—why are you more long-winded than that old man on my peak!"

Ruan Mingzhu left. Lin Xunzhen couldn't help raising an eyebrow.

The sun was setting, the sky clouds burning like fire.

Qing Zhouxue had trained alone all day and was about to head back, while Lin Xunzhen was going to the main hall. Their paths aligned, so they walked together.

"Senior sister, have you been busy these days?" Qing Zhouxue asked.

"Yes, but no longer. The mountain expedition is over."

They chatted a while. Lin Xunzhen noticed that her icy junior sister often had nothing more to say after a simple "mm."

But if it were perfunctory, that didn't fit either—the junior sister was listening attentively.

She was cool and distant, but not freezing. Surprisingly easygoing, as long as one didn't mind the silence.

Lin Xunzhen had seen few people at home before, but since joining the Taichu Sect, no one nagged her ears with nonsense like "women must not appear in public." She had assisted the Sect Leader for years, and not all tasks could fall on her alone. Except for special sect activities, routine matters were delegated to junior brothers and sisters.

This required dealing with others, having discernment to spot capable underlings, and constantly gauging the Sect Leader's and elders' intentions to make arrangements.

Thus, she had met not a few people and gained some insight into reading character.

But this Junior Sister Qing was truly unique.

At first, seeing Qing's extraordinary talent and the Sect Leader's favor, Lin Xunzhen had intended to befriend her. Yet no matter how friendly she tried to be, Junior Sister Qing remained as if veiled by clouds and mist—her likes and temperament unclear, always courteous and distant.

She couldn't quite see through her. As she mused idly, she recalled some of Ruan Mingzhu's wild talk and the rather indecent books she loved that defied conventional morality.

Later, when Lin Xunzhen learned these "indecent" works were from Elder Yue's hand, she couldn't say much.

Perhaps because Ruan Mingzhu had prattled on so much, she thought it over and found the girl wasn't entirely wrong—if Junior Sister Qing cared for anyone, it was certainly Master Yun.

Whenever she came up in conversation, and Lin Xunzhen expressed admiration for Yun Shuchen, Qing Zhouxue would speak more.

Lin Xunzhen glanced sideways at the faint light in her eyes, the ease at her brows.

Whenever someone praised her master, that was how she looked—such a look was the liveliness befitting a young woman.

Lin Xunzhen smiled. "You and Master Yun are so close. Everyone envies it."

Qing Zhouxue, however, said, "Sometimes... it's not that good."

She seemed to lower her gaze, thinking of bad times, then sighed softly. "Senior sister, you know much more than I do in all aspects. Do you know what people mean by 'love'?"

Lin Xunzhen stumbled, nearly tripping. She froze for a moment, then recovered. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know what love is, but I always want to be with my master." She frowned again. "But my master said, if I don't understand this, I should stop being close to her. Lately, she's inexplicably forgiven me, but this remains a doubt."

That night they had held each other, kissed—Qing Zhouxue had liked it very much, but for some reason, whenever she brought it up now, Yun Shuchen would tell her not to mention that night again, in a rather cold tone.

"This... this..." Lin Xunzhen felt her tongue tie in knots. After a long moment, she said dryly, "Junior sister, perhaps you're confusing love with reverence. She... she is your master. To you, she is like a parent. You shouldn't harbor such... filthy thoughts."

Qing Zhouxue was puzzled. "Filthy?"

Lin Xunzhen, with a grave face, went on at length about ethics and human relations. "If a child you raised suddenly harbored such feelings for you—junior sister, anyone would feel uncomfortable."

In the end, Qing Zhouxue noted it down as another "rule of the human world," just as her master had taught her.

Finally, she seemed even more dejected. "Senior sister, I treat her well every day, devote myself entirely to her, think of her first in everything... Is that also filthy?"

Lin Xunzhen knew she had spoken too harshly, but she didn't know how to answer. So she said, "Just focus on your cultivation. Perhaps in a few years, this will fade. Master Yun will surely treat you as before."

Junior Sister Qing seemed a bit shaken. She strode off quickly, climbing to the summit, and flew on her sword to Heyi Peak.

As soon as she entered the courtyard, Qing Zhouxue's heart pounded like a drum. After a full turn, she knew Yun Shuchen wasn't home at the moment, and her breathing gradually steadied.

After a hollow emptiness in her chest, she thought of something to do while waiting.

She had no heart for sword practice, nor could she cultivate. So she took out that copy of *Overstepping Beneath* and reopened it to page one.

Qing Zhouxue read, engrossed. Because the story was about a master-disciple relationship, with the protagonist pining for her master, and she herself thinking of her own, she found it especially gripping.

The girl in the book grieved over her master's coldness and rejoiced at her master's glances and attention. Qing Zhouxue wasn't so tossed about, but her heart did rise and fall with Yun Shuchen's attitude—that much was similar.

When she read about the rebellious disciple drugging her master, her thought was: How dare she? Isn't she afraid her master will forever loathe her?

Then the plot became indistinct, mostly thrashing between the sheets.

Qing Zhouxue treated it as an exciting fight scene. She skimmed quickly, flipping pages fast, wanting to see what happened after they got up.

In this tale, when Xiao Chengyu first regained her senses, she coldly berated Qiu Yuebai, and thereafter showed the rebellious disciple no kindness.

Qiu Yuebai's heart ached, but the arrow had already left the bow. Driven by dissatisfaction and possessiveness, she continued to imprison her master, spending nights in revelry.

Xiao Chengyu lay weakly on the couch, covering the many love bites on her body. She finally said coldly, "Qiu Yuebai, I must have been blind to take you in as my disciple. One who disregards human ethics does not deserve to be my disciple!"

Qiu Yuebai, leaning against the doorframe, paused. The mark of a slap was clearly visible on her face—from Xiao Chengyu's earlier blow—and it still stung fiercely.

But her heart ached more. She hated herself for doing this to her master, yet like an addict, she wished she could grind her into her very bones.

Qiu Yuebai turned her head slightly, a thin film of tears in her eyes, and curved her lips into a smile. "Master, I once wanted your heart more. But no matter how hard I tried, you never deigned to give me a shred of it."

A faint noise came from outside the door. Someone called softly, "Qing'er?"

Light streamed in, and the room suddenly grew much brighter.

Yun Shuchen had apparently stepped out. She barely entered when she saw her disciple lift her head, staring blankly at her, lips pale, sorrow already evident in her eyes as if she might shatter the next moment.

And on her lap lay that tale.

Regarding a young disciple who read smut but insisted on searching for the emotional line, only to be cruelly hurt—Emotion Root growth +1.