Chapter 91

Much time had passed since their birthdays.

Yet beneath that expanse of starlight, the teaching and learning, the warmth caught between their lips—those moments were relived countless times through memory and dreams.

Qing Zhouxue couldn't recall how many times her master had taught her, nor how many times she had practiced. In short, she was dazed, and by the end, she could barely stand.

Oddly enough, she had always considered herself diligent in martial training since childhood, with a fairly stable stance—yet in that moment, her legs felt like noodles, devoid of any strength.

All she remembered was the ragged breath against her face, hair strands that tickled her faintly, the woman's soft groans, and the pressure of her hand against her cheek.

Whenever she thought of it, she felt as if she were sinking into a warm, soft, fragrant embrace.

"What are you daydreaming about?"

Someone tapped Qing Zhouxue's shoulder. She turned to see Ruan Mingzhu raising an eyebrow. "You seem distracted. If I were to strike you with a blade right now, you probably wouldn't dodge or block."

"It's nothing."

Qing Zhouxue silently recited the scriptures of purity a few times, clearing the sticky, lingering memories from her mind, and swept her gaze over the sparring grounds that had been completely cleared.

Since the expansion of the sparring grounds, disciples often spread out their moldy, damp scriptures and manuals over the open space to dry and kill off bookworms.

If one's cultivation techniques weren't refined enough, this primitive method was the only resort.

Some odd little trades even sprang up at the foot of the mountain—superstitious villagers believed that dried vegetables nurtured by the immortal mountain's spiritual energy were special, and that eating them could prolong life. So they would often entreat the outer disciples, who in turn, relying on sect camaraderie, would ask inner disciples to secretly dry radish strips, sweet potato strips, and the like in a corner of the sparring grounds.

The Sect Leader could tolerate the drying of scriptures. But the radish strips looked rather... unsightly.

So with a wave of his hand, he organized a thorough cleaning of the sparring grounds under the pretext of the third selection, and also investigated and dismissed all those strange trades.

The third selection was thus held a few months earlier than in previous years. Among the inner disciples of the Taichu Sect, all teams that hadn't been eliminated earlier were now wound tight like a bowstring.

The arena matches weren't flashy—the rules were quite straightforward.

First, lots were drawn to determine the order of appearance, then match after endless match, until only one team remained.

The original purpose of the Immortal Ascension Assembly was for sects to learn from one another—a gathering of the elite. Hence, quantity wasn't emphasized: each sect could only send a few people.

In previous rounds, this rule wasn't strictly enforced, but in recent years, to streamline the process, the limit had been tightened to a maximum of one team.

Today, the sparring grounds were full of fluttering banners, a striking red that looked like maple trees in full bloom.

The third selection had begun.

If they got through this stage, they would earn the right to stand at the Immortal Ascension Assembly.

Qing Zhouxue watched the bustling scene, and in a daze, she recalled the inner sect competition from when she was eighteen.

Ruan Mingzhu brought over the bamboo tube for drawing lots, saying with a laugh, "Senior Sister Bai, you're always doing good deeds—your luck can't be too bad. Come on, draw one."

Bai Su cleared her throat and carefully picked one.

It was hard to say whether it was good or bad luck, since the team they drew wasn't familiar to them.

Ruan Mingzhu, who had a wide network of contacts, thought hard over the names written on it. "This one... seems to be a sword cultivator, Wood Spirit Root. This one only practices spells, Fire Spirit Root. I don't recognize the others?"

"Anyone who's made it this far through two rounds of selection can't be underestimated," Lin Xunzhen said with a sigh. "If that's the case, Junior Sister Ruan, you should take on the sword cultivator. As for the Fire Spirit Root spellcaster, there's no need to fear."

No matter how busy they were on normal days, they still spent the majority of their time at the sparring grounds.

In these past few years, they had put in no less effort, so at this critical juncture, there was nothing to be nervous about—they would simply deal with whatever came their way.

Qing Zhouxue wiped her Qingshuang Sword with a handkerchief once more.

The blade, bright and thin, reflected half of her face—calm and unchanged, without ripples.

Yun Shuchen sat together with the elders. She withdrew her gaze.

The weather was still cold, as spring had just begun, so the delicate Elder Yun was dressed a bit more warmly, draped in a fox fur cloak that her disciple had insisted she wear.

Win or lose, she didn't really care that much.

Though the Immortal Ascension Assembly was a fairly prestigious competition, in the end, it was just a match.

Qing Zhouxue was Yun Shuchen's only disciple, and in the future, she would surely become the peak lord. There was no real need for her to compete.

As the Pavilion Master had said, if Qing'er didn't wade into these troubled waters, she might enjoy a few more peaceful years.

A thousand feelings churned in her heart. Yun Shuchen sighed and took a sip from her teapot.

The light fragrance seemed to ease the complex emotions rising and falling within her.

She lowered her eyes to watch her disciple in white step onto the arena, standing with her sword behind her back, her posture like a slender bamboo.

As if sensing something, Qing Zhouxue turned her head to look in her direction.

Yun Shuchen smiled gently—a smile so faint that unless one looked closely, it would go unnoticed.

Qing Zhouxue took in the woman's extraordinarily beautiful smile and quietly tucked it into her heart.

Then, inch by inch, she turned her eyes back to the field.

Yue Changge shot a sideways glance at Yun Shuchen. She had been sitting with her legs crossed, but to distance herself from the two who were exchanging glances, she switched her right leg over her left and leaned her body to the other side.

"Tsk," she muttered softly into Liu Xunqin's ear. "These two master and disciple pairs are sappier than what I write in my stories. Something's off."

Liu Xunqin kept her eyes forward. "She has indeed been moved."

Yue Changge wasn't too surprised. She gave an "mm" sound. "See, what I write isn't fiction—it's a textbook."

Liu Xunqin frowned almost imperceptibly. "Dual Cultivation isn't like that. Several parts you wrote are inaccurate. If someone sees them, they'll easily mislead readers. Don't write about things you don't understand."

Yue Changge snorted in anger. "I know more than you! These are lowbrow, vulgar tales! They need novel gimmicks to catch the eye—no need for strict accuracy... Huh?"

Her gaze froze slightly, then a smile bloomed like spring over the city. "Liu Liu, when did you read them?"

Liu Xunqin turned her gaze to the sparring grounds and said nothing more.

*

This competition had boundaries: those who stepped out or fell and couldn't get up would be eliminated. The team's victory was determined by which side had the most members remaining.

So the group tried to stay close to the center.

Ruan Mingzhu, always charging ahead, and as Lin Xunzhen had predicted, she relentlessly pursued the Wood Spirit Root sword cultivator.

There weren't many single-spirit-root cultivators on the opposing side; this one was likely the strongest among them. Unfortunately, she was still a minor realm below Ruan Mingzhu.

Since absorbing the sacred bird's fire, her blades had grown even more searing. With a casual slash, she could tear open sparks of flame from the void, singeing robes and hair, flames that were hard to extinguish.

With Ruan Mingzhu's higher cultivation and the advantage of the Five Elements cycle, it was nearly a one-sided advantage.

The Wood Spirit Root sword cultivator retreated step by step, nearly forced out of the ring.

The battle was going smoothly. Qing Zhouxue stayed in the back, shielding Bai Su and Lin Xunzhen, not making any rash moves.

Only occasionally did she release a sword intent through the air, sending silent, chilling pressure to interfere with the opposing spellcasters' incantations.

"Steady and methodical," the Sect Leader praised. "Compared to how they started, they've definitely matured a lot."

Observant eyes could see that their tactics were conservative, aiming to preserve their strength as much as possible.

After this battle, there were still many matches, with increasing difficulty, so they couldn't use all their power from the start.

The first match was won easily by Qing Zhouxue's team.

Perhaps it was truly because Senior Sister Bai had accumulated much merit by saving lives, but in the second round, they drew a bye.

By the time the second round came around, half the teams had already been eliminated.

After the first two selections, there were already few teams that could reach the third. Lin Xunzhen estimated with them that the quota would be decided in no more than five matches.

The subsequent matches didn't require much effort either. As Ruan Mingzhu walked off the field, she clicked her tongue in amazement. "I never realized I was this strong back then! Aren't we usually beaten to the ground by the arena warriors?"

"Oh," Senior Sister Lin replied slowly. "After I found out that Core Formation warriors couldn't beat you, I raised the difficulty of the sparring ground's illusion to Nascent Soul."

"..."

It made sense, really. Bai Su was the senior disciple under the Medicine Immortal, far beyond the reach of ordinary lesser healers. Both Ruan Mingzhu and Qing Zhouxue had single spirit roots and had taken first and second place in the inner sect recruitment tournament back then. As for Lin Xunzhen, with dual cultivation of Water and Earth, and because she never slacked off, she was also a top-tier spellcaster.

The Sect Leader knew in his heart that in the first few matches, there was no need to worry about them.

The skill levels of recent disciples varied greatly, so there was no suspense at all—they only needed to watch the final match: whether Xiao Hong's group would win, or Qing Zhouxue's team would come out on top.

Xiao Hong and Chen Lianqing were his first and second disciples. The former was like a street loafer, with no sense of responsibility as senior brother, leading his underlings to corrupt the inner sect's atmosphere—either drinking and brawling or hiding somewhere to sleep.

The latter behaved properly enough, having neither merit nor fault in recent years, though his aptitude was slightly lacking.

If it weren't for Xiao Hong's decent sword skills, the Sect Leader would have long wanted to cast him out of the sect. Only after a few recent disciplinings did he start preparing for the Immortal Ascension Assembly in earnest.

The Taichu Sect had started as a sword sect; every generation of sect leader wielded the Liangyi Sword to protect Taichu's peace, and so the sect head had to be a sword cultivator.

The selection of the next sect leader, though still early, needed consideration. He had been observing his own disciples, looking for signs in various aspects.

But aptitude and character could never both be satisfactory—they still fell short of his ideal.

The Sect Leader looked up at the white-robed sword cultivator with the upright posture, whose Qingshuang Sword gleamed with coldness in the sunlight.

Exceptional talent, upright character.

If it came to the position of next sect leader, he favored Qing Zhouxue.