Chapter 14

After a few days of rest, Qing Zhouxue and Ruan Mingzhu attended the sparsest initiation ceremony in the history of the Taichu Sect.

Needless to say, Qing Zhouxue bowed to Yun Shuchen as her master amidst the Sect Leader's sighs. Ruan Mingzhu, persuaded by Yun Shuchen, made a fuss for a few days, only to discover that Elder Zhong's peak also boasted pretty senior sisters and brothers, and Elder Zhong himself was quite amiable. Gradually, her heart tilted toward that side, and she soon forgot about Heyi Peak.

Today's evening glow was a soft purple, gentle and serene. In the distance, the mountains were faint, and birds left a few distant ink dots across the long sky.

Yun Shuchen, rare for her, did not ride the wind but slowed her steps to stroll with Qing Zhouxue on Heyi Peak.

This newly accepted disciple—though not exactly new anymore—stood by her side, already able to walk shoulder to shoulder with her.

"During the inner sect competition a few days ago, I noticed your realm seemed to be wavering," Yun Shuchen said. "Are you close to breaking through to the Golden Core?"

"Mm."

"Core Formation." Yun Shuchen sighed. "Eighteen years old."

"How enviable."

As she spoke, the setting sun cast a soft halo on her profile, and her exquisite eyes, like autumn water and mist, settled on Qing Zhouxue.

As Qing Zhouxue gazed at her, she suddenly recalled Ruan Mingzhu's nonsense about "Isn't Elder Yun very beautiful?" Unfortunately, Ruan Mingzhu clearly hadn't looked carefully enough—at least not as carefully as Qing Zhouxue.

She had plenty to say on the subject, yet for some reason, she didn't feel like sharing it with Ruan Mingzhu.

Coming back to herself, she gently brushed aside this inexplicable emotion, like skimming the dregs left at the bottom of a teacup.

"Master."

"Hm?" Yun Shuchen had already withdrawn her gaze, squinting at a hazy red sun in the distance.

Qing Zhouxue said softly, "Nothing, just calling you."

Inside the room, the scent of herbal medicine swirled. Qing Zhouxue had returned with Yun Shuchen today and had no time to brew the medicine, but A Jin, being sensible, had remembered the task.

Yun Shuchen went to bathe.

As usual, Qing Zhouxue set the bowl of medicine on the table until it cooled to a warm temperature, then took a candied fruit and carried it in to her.

As she was leaving, the little cat bit the hem of her clothes. Qing Zhouxue looked down and heard it say, "Congratulations."

The corner of her mouth curved slightly, and she gave a soft "Mm."

Yun Shuchen wore a thin undergarment, her hair loose and slightly damp at the ends. She sat lazily by the bed, holding a crystal-clear grape in her hand, peeling it slowly.

The window wasn't shut tightly, letting in a chill breeze, and she coughed a few times behind her hand. Qing Zhouxue set the medicine bowl aside gently. "Master."

Yun Shuchen lifted her eyes to her, asking silently what she wanted.

"You've been coughing for years," she frowned. "And you've been drinking medicine for just as long. Can't Elder Liu cure this illness of yours?"

"It's just a naturally weak constitution," Yun Shuchen said dismissively. "It doesn't matter. I won't die from it."

Won't die from it?

"But you could live a little more comfortably."

Yun Shuchen seemed unwilling to continue this topic. She yawned and crooked a finger at her. "Come closer."

No sooner had Qing Zhouxue bent down than a sweet taste filled her mouth—a peeled grape had been popped in.

Yun Shuchen wiped her hands with a handkerchief. "Tomorrow I'll teach you a new technique to prepare for forming your core. For now, rest well. Go back."

The next morning, birds chirped outside the window. Yun Shuchen had just woken when she heard the ringing of a sword from outside. She had grown used to such days.

She always left the window open to let in the air and, incidentally, enjoy the sight of her disciple practicing swordsmanship.

White robes fluttered—a pleasing sight.

Qing Zhouxue preferred white because she favored a low profile. The Taichu Sect disciples' garments were predominantly white, so wearing it helped her avoid drawing attention.

Moreover, she was naturally fastidious, and white made it hard to conceal dirt; any dust could be cleaned promptly. Unless under special circumstances, Qing Zhouxue was always neat and clean.

With a single thrust, she pierced a plum blossom. As she twirled her sword, there was a hint of feminine grace and also a bit of a swordsman's ease. Over the years, she had begun to glimpse the essence of the sword.

But today was clear, lacking a snowfall—missing a bit of ambiance. Yun Shuchen leaned by the window, propping her chin on her hand, watching her thoughtfully.

It wasn't until Qing Zhouxue finished her form and inadvertently caught sight of her that she lowered her sword tip and stood still.

"Master?" She walked a couple of steps toward the window. "It's cold outside today. If you come out, you should dress warmer."

"Is that so?" Yun Shuchen beckoned her. "Come in and cultivate."

When Qing Zhouxue entered, she unfastened her outer robe, still tinged with chill, and hung it on the rack.

"Yes," she said, sitting on the stool. "What technique?"

Yun Shuchen counted a few books from the bookshelf, pulled them out, and placed them in Qing Zhouxue's hands. Then she moved her fingertip to the right, counted a few more, and pulled those out as well.

Qing Zhouxue felt her arms growing heavier until nearly half the bookshelf was empty.

Only then did Yun Shuchen turn to look at her at leisure. "Pick one?"

"..."

"Never mind." Yun Shuchen randomly grabbed one. "You'll have to learn them all anyway."

From this ordinary remark, Qing Zhouxue detected a hint of teasing. Yun Shuchen sat cross-legged on the bed and said softly, "Come here."

She quietly climbed onto the bed. The bead curtain fell, and two figures sat facing each other, their silhouettes hazy and indistinct from outside.

Qing Zhouxue was somewhat surprised. She had always thought Yun Shuchen would be particular about her bed—at least not letting anyone but herself onto it.

"A few times, I saw you copying my meditation posture," Yun Shuchen said with a curl of her lips. "So small, with a face full of pretense, but behind my back, your energy circulation was a complete mess."

That was from so many years ago.

Hearing it suddenly brought up, Qing Zhouxue's composed expression flickered at last.

"But you're still quite clever. At least you managed to circulate it."

Yun Shuchen took her hand. Since Qing Zhouxue began cultivating, her body temperature had grown lower than normal—the effect of her Ice Spiritual Root, which left her with less of the warmth of a living person.

"Hold your spirit, guard your unity."

Qing Zhouxue closed her eyes. Though she had lived on Heyi Peak for years, her previous cultivation had been self-guided, stumbling by chance to the late Foundation Establishment stage.

Having her master guide her was naturally different.

The spiritual power within her body surged under the external force, like a great river raging. Qing Zhouxue was powerless to control it, but Yun Shuchen subdued it with one hand, bringing chaos into order, until gradually every stream found its own course through her meridians.

Qing Zhouxue kept her eyes shut, brows slightly furrowed, sweat beading on her forehead. The process brought some swelling pain, but it was still within tolerable bounds.

Yun Shuchen, in contrast, seemed entirely at ease. She didn't even need to close her eyes to shut out distractions. One hand loosely clasped her disciple's wrist, harmonizing the clashing spiritual energy, while she casually studied her face.

When not in the mood to tease her little disciple, she was gentle enough. Seeing pain flicker across her disciple's face from time to time, she eased off slightly.

A day and a night slipped quietly away in that unchanging posture.

Qing Zhouxue suppressed her breath and endured the subtle, nagging pain, remaining attentive until the end, when she let out a long sigh of relief. Exhausted in both body and mind, she unconsciously leaned forward—only to meet a hand against her forehead, stopping her from tumbling straight into her master.

"Tired?"

Qing Zhouxue gave a faint "Mm."

"With diligent practice, you won't feel pain when circulating on your own."

The words had just left her mouth when no reply came. The girl who had rested her forehead against her palm now sat quietly, lashes lowered, motionless, breathing even.

She had fallen asleep.

In that posture that clearly wasn't comfortable.

Just as Yun Shuchen was marveling that the young could sleep anywhere, she remembered that a full day and night had passed. For her, it was nothing, but this frail Foundation Establishment disciple couldn't handle such prolonged sleepless cultivation.

But this master's hand was getting sore.

Yun Shuchen admired her disciple's jade-like sleeping face for a moment, then switched from supporting to cupping, and pinched her chin. "Don't sleep."

Qing Zhouxue frowned and gave her a bleary glance, seemingly unaware of how odd the posture was. Seeing it was Yun Shuchen, she murmured "Master" and, utterly unperturbed, drifted back to sleep.

Yun Shuchen raised an eyebrow. She shifted her own body aside, then abruptly withdrew her hand. Losing support, Qing Zhouxue nearly pitched forward—but years of sword practice had given her considerable core strength, and she barely managed to wrench herself upright.

She sat up straight, cross-legged on the bed, looking thoroughly bewildered.

"Master?"

Yun Shuchen brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, then lay down with a supple waist. She cast a glance at her. "Still not leaving? Want to share my bed?"

Qing Zhouxue cleared her throat, clearly embarrassed by her sudden doze. At those words, she hesitated, then asked, "May I?"

"No."

"Oh."

She couldn't quite say whether she felt regret or not, but she obediently went back. Startled as she had been, her drowsiness had vanished entirely, and sleep wouldn't come for a while.

Still, adhering to her habit of good sleep hygiene, she lay down in bed. When one can't sleep yet forces oneself, the mind tends to wander all over the place.

She thought back to the competition the other day—swords and blades flying, and how she had frozen Ruan Mingzhu's two eagles. If they were ordinary, they'd certainly be dead now.

Then she recalled a book she'd once read, something like "Appreciation of Common Plants of the Taichu Realm," from her master's shelf. It had recorded something with the power to bring such birds and beasts of low intelligence back from the brink of death.

If it were a medicinal herb, that would be simple. Elder Liu's peak had all sorts of rare herbs.

But why would Elder Liu give it to her? Qing Zhouxue's head started to ache again. Such potent spiritual plants were usually priceless.

After thinking it over, she had two options: either pawn herself off to Elder Liu for research, or go ask her master...

But she shouldn't trouble her with something like this. The thought flickered through her mind for only an instant before she crushed it.