Chapter 44

After the repairs at Taichu Sect were completed, the disciples' lives gradually returned to normal. It was said that Elder Yun and the Sect Leader had differing views on sect politics, and after much back-and-forth—along with days of heated debate at morning meetings—the final outcome remained unknown to outsiders.

When Qing Zhouxue stepped onto the training grounds again, the area had greatly expanded. From a disciple's perspective, her master's efforts over the past few months had certainly made their lives more comfortable.

During their life-and-death battle with the weasel demon that day, the group had performed surprisingly well, but they still scrambled due to their lack of real combat experience. At the time, Ruan Mingzhu's qi and blood had been depleted, leaving her unable to condense enough fire, which hadn't affected Qing Zhouxue, so they hadn't hindered each other.

But that didn't fundamentally solve the problem.

Both of them were skilled in their own right, and it would be a waste to lose either one. Ruan Mingzhu couldn't suppress her power in every future battle either.

Their strategy ultimately followed Lin Xunzhen's suggestion: since they couldn't fight side by side all the time, they would advance and retreat in turns, steady and methodical.

Qing Zhouxue wasn't as impetuous or combative as Ruan Mingzhu, so she willingly took the rear guard, watching over the bigger picture.

Thus, their sparring sessions against the phantoms over the next few days went smoothly. But those phantoms weren't real creatures—after fighting them enough, one could learn their patterns, rigid and stiff as they were.

Qing Zhouxue could now block their swords with her eyes closed.

Training like that yielded no further improvement.

This morning, the others looked as if they'd seen a ghost when they spotted Qing Zhouxue—and, half a step ahead of her, a woman strolling leisurely.

"Disciple greets Elder Yun," Lin Xunzhen said with a bow. "What brings you here, Elder?"

"I was idle on the peak with nothing pressing to do." She let her sleeves fall, concealing the hand intertwined with her disciple's, and smiled. "I thought I'd come practice with you all."

Qing Zhouxue frowned inwardly. That wasn't what her master had said before they left. She'd only said she was bored and wanted to watch the juniors train, and that she absolutely wouldn't tire herself out. That was the only reason Qing Zhouxue had agreed to bring this delicate treasure down from the mountain.

Ruan Mingzhu nodded eagerly. "Sure, Elder! I've never actually experienced Mahayana-stage techniques before."

She suddenly caught Senior Sister Qing's rather cold glance. She rolled her eyes, squinted, and silently mouthed to her: Don't be so jealous.

Qing Zhouxue didn't feel like acknowledging Ruan Mingzhu. She simply thought that this was just disciple training—no need for her master to exert herself.

Just then, Qing Zhouxue felt the hand holding hers tighten. Yun Shuchen's smile gradually faded, replaced by a calm as placid as water.

She said softly, "Begin."

The grip on Qing Zhouxue's hand eased quietly, and in a blink, Yun Shuchen was nowhere to be found on the square training ground.

The four of them stood bewildered for a moment. Then the sky seemed to change color—what had been clear a moment ago suddenly turned dark and gloomy.

From the nearby woods, flocks of birds burst into the air, chirping and squawking as they fled toward the heavens.

Qing Zhouxue felt a wave of pressure.

Yun Shuchen's voice drifted to their ears, soft and ethereal, with a hollow resonance: "Relax—I'll only use twenty percent of my power. For those at Core Formation, that should be more than enough."

Ruan Mingzhu gripped her saber tightly. Lin Xunzhen kept her guard up, scanning her surroundings. Bai Su felt her heart pound faster, suffocating, as if the air had frozen in that instant.

It was like a blade suspended overhead, ready to fall at any moment.

When the area around them darkened to near night, the few standing in the shadow nearly felt their hearts race to their limit.

A crack split open in the void, followed by great billows of white mist rising.

Qing Zhouxue sensed something was wrong. From the air, faintly, came a low, muffled dragon's roar.

Through the swirling clouds, an enormous dragon claw appeared, sharp as a hooked talon; the body was sleek yet formidable, a section of it revealed.

The four young cultivators felt their legs go weak as they looked up—the sleeping water dragon slowly opened its eyes.

"W-Where do we even start?" Bai Su, who harbored a faint fear of massive creatures, took a few steps back.

Ruan Mingzhu summoned a small flame on her fingertip, which darted onto the dragon's tail with a sizzle, producing wisps of white steam.

Seeing this was wrong, Lin Xunzhen quickly pulled her back. "Water overcomes fire—you won't gain an edge here. Don't act rashly. Ice and water are one; Senior Sister Qing should take the lead."

Ruan Mingzhu turned to stare at her, then let out a light snort without saying more, tapping her saber's tip against the ground.

Lin Xunzhen had already prepared a backup plan in case Ruan Mingzhu charged forward recklessly again, but she hadn't expected that one sentence would convince her, so all her rehearsed arguments died in her throat, leaving her momentarily surprised.

The azure dragon, having just awakened, seemed to recognize Qing Zhouxue. It instinctively found her a delightful little thing—it had enjoyed playing with her last time—and so it whipped its tail around and dashed straight toward her.

A spray of water drenched the group, but Qing Zhouxue, moving faster than she ever had before, condensed an ice puppet on the spot while dropping low and rolling away to the side.

She rolled a few yards before the azure dragon returned to the sky. Its translucent claws gripped the ice sculpture, opened its mouth, and swallowed it whole.

It was formed entirely from water; every scale rippled with layered waves. Its transparent body was vast and majestic as it soared through the clouds on high, bearing an awe-inspiring beauty.

Xuanming, the Water God, guarded the north of the formation.

Ordinary cultivators merely controlled their element—manipulating currents or condensing water shields. This water dragon was born from Yun Shuchen's Five Elements Spirit Root, refined to its utmost, then transformed from a single elemental root.

Lin Xunzhen, though she didn't study formations, was also primarily a controller of elements, sharing much in common with Elder Yun's expertise.

She gazed up at the roaming azure dragon—powerful, beautiful, like a deity ruling over all creation. Her heart trembled with awe, and for a moment, her eyes stung.

How many years would she need to cultivate to reach that level?

Qing Zhouxue, however, had no time for admiration, because this water dragon seemed to share its master's playful nature. After eagerly swallowing the ice sculpture, it flicked its tail again, swept Qing Zhouxue into its current, and rubbed its chin affectionately against her head.

Yun Shuchen watched silently from outside the formation. At her disciple's utterly bewildered expression, she couldn't help but smile and mentally called out: Don't just tease her alone.

The water dragon froze mid-motion, abruptly spat Qing Zhouxue out, then swept the others up as well.

And rubbed against all of them.

Yun Shuchen was amused—it was because these junior nieces had such low cultivation that Xuanming couldn't perceive them as opponents, thinking they were adorable little pets instead.

Ruan Mingzhu thrashed in the water, flinging droplets everywhere, and cursed: "Is this dragon insane?!"

Qing Zhouxue remained expressionless, as if she were used to it, letting her sword tip droop lazily while she waited for this ordeal to end.

Yun Shuchen raised a hand, binding the azure dragon with spiritual power.

In an instant, the dragon flung them off, its pressure turning grave. It coiled its body into a taut, powerful curve, let out a furious roar, and dove downward, unleashing a flood as if the seas had burst their banks.

Qing Zhouxue tapped the water's surface with her sword, condensing a thin sheet of ice in a relatively calm spot, layering it thicker. Together with the others, they stood unsteadily upon it, gasping for breath, only to hear Bai Su and Lin Xunzhen exclaim in astonishment, "What's that now?"

In the distance, a blaze of fire-colored clouds churned, as if something scorching hot were writhing to break free.

Crimson wings, still licking with flames, spread wide across the sky, brushing past them with searing heat.

On their precarious ice sheet, the group hurriedly ducked low, yet still felt the hair at their temples singe with the smell of burnt ends.

Qing Zhouxue's eyes stung, and she barely made out the vermilion bird formed of fire. Her heart chilled—one dragon was already more than they could handle, so why had her master summoned the guardian of the formation's south as well—

Zhurong, the Fire God.

Water churned beneath their feet, roiling wildly, making it hard to keep standing, while above them a fierce, combative vermilion bird locked onto them, shrieking shrilly, its flaming tail feathers seeking to ignite every surface, seeking to burn all.

What to do?

Qing Zhouxue could no longer endure the intense heat. She slipped off the ice and plunged into the water. Ruan Mingzhu reached out to grab her. "Senior Sister!"

She couldn't catch Qing Zhouxue. A rush of wind howled past her ears as she spun her blade and, as the vermilion bird dove, slashed at its neck.

The blade edge scraped through the flames, but they soon sealed back together.

Before she could react, a wing slapped her, sending her tumbling back onto the ice, cracking it.

Her seared flesh was rapidly knitted back together by the endless regeneration of wood-element power from Bai Su's hands.

"This thing can't be killed," Ruan Mingzhu said as she climbed to her feet, wiping blood from her lips, her expression grim. She glanced at Lin Xunzhen. "Douse it with water?"

Lin Xunzhen had had the same idea, but just then the crimson figure dove again. Too pressed to reply, she steadied her swaying stance and marshaled a surging wave of water, sending it upward; the splash extinguished half of the vermilion bird's flames. The firebird let out a mournful cry and wheeled back up into the sky.

"Senior Sister Qing is still down there," Bai Su said, peering into the water. "Why hasn't she come up?"

At that moment, beneath the surface.

In the silent current, Qing Zhouxue felt a profound peace.

She had spent so many years with Yun Shuchen that she knew the aura around her, and in these waters, every trace seemed to carry her essence.

Water and ice were one at their core. If she forced herself to stay above, that vermilion bird would burn her until she had no strength left to fight.

Qing Zhouxue sank deeper, her body ice-cold. Holding her breath and steadying her qi, she spotted the dragon's pupil amid the dark currents—noticeably brighter than the surrounding water.

Qingshuang Sword left her hand, straining through the water to thrust at that massive eye.

The dragon blinked, tilted its head to dodge, then, provoked, immediately pursued Qing Zhouxue. But Qing Zhouxue seemed intent on not engaging, planting her feet and kicking off into the water, abandoning her sword, shooting upward like a fish.

As she burst through the surface, arms reached down from the ice, grabbing hold and hauling her up quickly.

Yet erupting from the water along with her was a colossal dragon head.

Its furious gaze locked onto her.