Chapter 141

Qing Zhouxue immediately raised her sword in guard and stepped back.

She looked up and met Gu Ruoshui's eyes.

Gu Ruoshui stood leaning against the stone wall, sword in hand. She seemed to have just come out of the cave dwelling and happened to run into her.

"Long time no see," Gu Ruoshui said, her face still expressionless, her gaze fixed on Qing Zhouxue.

"Mm."

Qing Zhouxue expected her to continue, but after a long pause, she said nothing more. Puzzled, Qing Zhouxue asked, "Fellow Daoist Gu, is there something you need?"

"Just call me Gu Ruoshui."

She tightened her grip on her sword and asked coldly, "Back then, why did you lose to me?"

"..."

Anyone else might have taken that as an insult, but Qing Zhouxue vaguely sensed she was asking in earnest.

Or perhaps accusing.

Even more bewildered, she said, "I was no match for you then. Losing was only natural."

"Impossible."

Gu Ruoshui shook her head with certainty. "At the very least, you shouldn't have lost to that one sword strike. That day, I had a bye and watched your other matches—your swordplay was exquisite, and you were a rare peer who could face me. But when you fought me, you went through the motions and fell after a few exchanges."

That had been a match she'd long anticipated, but Qing Zhouxue hadn't used her full strength. Even on the final strike, she'd carelessly failed to dodge and immediately left the stage.

Winning wasn't new to Gu Ruoshui, nor was it cause for celebration. In fact, she had walked a path of brilliance, never once defeated among her peers.

But an opponent was rare.

And an opponent who deliberately lost to her, and in such a clumsy manner, as if humoring a child—that was an insult to Gu Ruoshui.

Qing Zhouxue didn't understand why she was so upset, so she said plainly, "I dislike thunder and lightning; it affects me."

Her tone was sincere, but given that she naturally showed little expression, Gu Ruoshui scrutinized her for a moment and still felt she was being fobbed off.

Gu Ruoshui's face turned cold. "At the Immortal Ascension Assembly, you'll have to make your moves, won't you?"

With that, she flicked her sleeves and left, stirring up a light breeze in front of Qing Zhouxue.

What a strange person.

Though winning or losing didn't matter, winning was still a bit more pleasant, wasn't it?

Qing Zhouxue shook her head. She glanced at the sky and saw the sun already setting in the west. Delayed by Gu Ruoshui for quite a while, she suddenly remembered the time agreed with Senior Sister Lin. If she rushed over now, she'd arrive right on time.

Better not come again next time.

She noted the general location of that cave dwelling, then turned back.

When she returned to her quarters, Lin Xunzhen and the others were already waiting. Ruan Mingzhu smiled. "What took you so long? You didn't actually go to the outer sect's canteen to try the food, did you?"

Bai Su was holding a stack of pill bottles, dividing them into individual portions and handing one to each of them. "Fortunately, nothing burned—I noticed there were no life-saving pills in this cabinet, so you should keep these with you. It's the kind my master often refines."

"At the Immortal Ascension Assembly, could there be danger to one's life?"

"Who knows? Everything has exceptions." Bai Su frowned. "Have you heard—hundreds of years ago, the checks at the Immortal Ascension Assembly weren't as strict, until a disciple was ambushed on the field and died on the spot. Then it became what it is now."

Lin Xunzhen nodded. "She's right. The rules also say that pills refined on this ground can be brought up. We'd better be careful."

The hanging scroll was animated by spiritual power, and the mountains, waters, clouds, and mist within began to move.

This small-scale training formation's entrance was indeed unique.

Ruan Mingzhu was the first to step inside, and in an instant, she vanished.

The rest exchanged glances and followed her in.

Qing Zhouxue felt her body lighten for a moment, then twist into a wisp of smoke in the landscape painting, and she slipped inside.

When she opened her eyes again, a sea of blazing flames stretched before her, with barely any place to set foot—like falling into the hell of Avici.

The firelight reflected in her pupils.

Qing Zhouxue suppressed her discomfort and looked left and right. The formation at her feet was divided into four sections, with the earth phase in the center, each presenting a completely different environment.

She was placed in the hottest sea of flames, while Ruan Mingzhu knelt on a layer of ice, a thin frost forming over her body.

Enduring the burning pain and the suffocating agony, she suddenly understood: this formation deliberately targeted the mutually counteracting spiritual roots, attempting to force one to adapt.

Qing Zhouxue tried to sit down; she felt as if she would turn to ashes. This was the discomfort she used to feel when fighting side by side with Ruan Mingzhu long ago, and now it came flooding back.

In extreme pain, her breathing stopped and started intermittently. The spiritual fire wouldn't burn her body, but the discomfort was more like roasting her soul over flames.

Compared to her and Ruan Mingzhu's suffering, the water, earth, and wood spiritual roots were relatively milder; they weren't as severe due to less mutual counteraction.

Lin Xunzhen and Bai Su suffered far less than the two of them.

Qing Zhouxue's cultivation was now much higher than before. She closed her eyes, striving to steady the circulation of spiritual power through her body. The pervasive flames nearly pushed her Ice Spiritual Root to the brink, but... she had to endure.

She had to adapt.

Gradually, she found a sense of harmonious coexistence. Like a rough blade being ground down by a whetstone, it became precise and sharp.

Her consciousness slowly faded.

It was as if she had dreamed an illusory dream.

At some point, Bai Su woke up first. She discovered that everyone had returned from the painting to their quarters, sprawled on the floor unconscious.

She first checked them for injuries.

But the sensations within that formation seemed to be illusions, having no effect on the body.

The next to wake was Lin Xunzhen. She rubbed her forehead and sat up, taking a moment to recover. Glancing at the scene, she was stunned. "All fainted?"

"It's fine. Probably exhausted," Bai Su reassured.

"This formation is quite good." Lin Xunzhen turned to look at the scroll and nodded lightly. "Once we adapt a bit more, and with the earth-phase technique I developed back then, the mutual counteraction of spiritual roots might not matter much."

Bai Su nodded too. Then, seeing that Qing Zhouxue and Ruan Mingzhu showed no signs of waking, they helped them back to their rooms.

When Qing Zhouxue woke, it was pitch dark around her; she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. She pushed aside the curtain—outside, even the starlight was faint.

Her whole body still ached with a tired weakness.

She no longer remembered how long she had been scorched by that fire; the torture seemed endless.

Now she was finally awake, but she couldn't easily fall back asleep.

Qing Zhouxue lit a lamp and spread a sheet of letter paper on the table. She had just picked up her brush, but paused before she could write.

It seemed she had no way to send a letter to her master.

A few light taps came at the window, knocking persistently, unusually abrupt in the silent night.

She glanced over curiously, walked to the window, and lifted the curtain again. A fluttering little creature was circling back and forth beside the window.

In the lamplight, she saw a fluffy, snow-white little silver sparrow. On its red beak, it held a rolled-up piece of paper.

As soon as Qing Zhouxue opened the window, it flew onto her shoulder. She took the scroll, unrolled it in her palm, and was slightly startled.

It was her master's handwriting.

Sure enough, she felt a familiar and warm aura from this little bird. It must be a messenger.

The ink characters were clear and neat, just a few lines.

【I've sent a little bird to keep you company. If you need to send me a letter, you can also use it.】

Qing Zhouxue raised her hand, and the little silver sparrow quickly hopped onto it, round as a glutinous rice ball. But in fact, it wasn't much flesh—just all white, fluffy feathers.

She smiled slightly.

Mm, a bit cute.

Unfortunately, it was too late to find a birdcage, but this little white chirper was exceptionally obedient. When Qing Zhouxue lay down, a soft, round mass nestled into the crook of her neck and stayed perfectly still.

That night, she slept remarkably well.

The next morning, Qing Zhouxue again went with her fellow senior and junior sisters into that formation, tormenting herself for quite a while. The training was no different, except for a tiny white bird perched on her head, quite conspicuous.

"Junior sister, what kind of hair ornament is that?" Bai Su hadn't even finished asking when the white ball suddenly opened two black, shiny eyes.

Qing Zhouxue coughed lightly. "It climbed onto my head and refuses to come down."

"Just shoo it away." Ruan Mingzhu raised the handle of her blade as if to strike it. The white bird immediately flew up, incredibly agile, and gave her hand a fierce peck.

Caught off guard, Ruan Mingzhu quickly withdrew her hand, rubbing it. "How is this more vicious than my eagle!"

No one could drive it away.

This little tyrant perched atop Qing Zhouxue's head, stubborn and haughty. After having its fill, it slowly hopped onto Qing Zhouxue's hand.

Qing Zhouxue spread her thumb and stroked it, and the little head immediately leaned in, seemingly enjoying it.

Today, Qing Zhouxue decided to go to the back mountain for another look, taking the Qingshuang Sword with her. That place was bitingly cold, and she was afraid of freezing the bird, so she found a small cage, and while it wasn't looking, she tucked it inside.

As soon as the door closed, the white ball fluffed up its feathers.

It puffed up, even more like a snowball.

Qing Zhouxue poked it with her pinky. "I'll be back soon."

Unexpectedly, the Qingshuang Sword didn't guide her this time. Following her memory, Qing Zhouxue came to that cave dwelling shimmering with a faint blue light.

She bent down and entered; the entrance was narrow, but the further she went, the wider it became. The cold also grew more piercing, but for her, it wasn't hard to bear.

The blue glow came from some bioluminescent spirit plants, densely growing near the cave mouth. But inside, nothing grew—because the entire ground was ice frozen for thousands or tens of thousands of years.

Including the four walls, including everywhere she looked. Everything she saw was ice and snow.

This should be a place for cultivating an Ice Spiritual Root.

Qing Zhouxue knocked on the solid ice beside her with the pommel of her sword, producing echoes in the cave.

No one answered.

That was actually within expectations, because Ice Spiritual Root was rare.

What was unexpected was this place. Despite knowing it was rare, Liuyun Sect had specially opened a cave dwelling. The furnishings and dense spiritual power within must have taken no small effort to maintain.

There might be a spiritual ore buried underground.

Qing Zhouxue walked around inside; apart from finding it very suitable for cultivation, there was nothing special. The frost at the deepest part was very thick; she couldn't penetrate it, and there was no further path.

But for some reason, Qing Zhouxue, upon arriving here, felt a sense of fate. As if something was calling her, and something was guiding her.

In this world of ice and snow, everything was deathly still and lifeless, without a single sound. Yet it lured her to walk deeper, step by step.

She touched the Qingshuang Sword and asked softly, "Who did you bring me to find? Is it just for the cold?"

The Qingshuang Sword made no reply.

But from within the thickest layer of ice, a faint, clear female voice suddenly sounded:

"You've come."