The two young girls, seeing the person beside them choking, asked in confusion, “Are you alright?”
Not alright!
How could she possibly be alright!
Bai Yuheng coughed so hard her lungs nearly came out, her face turning completely red as she struggled to steady her breathing.
When the two girls saw she was fine, they let out a sigh of relief and asked, “Do you also like Immortal Master Pei?”
“Cough! Cough cough cough—”
She had just managed to catch her breath when their innocent words nearly scared it right out of her again.
She wasn’t old and shameless enough to have feelings for her disciple!
Bai Yuheng hurriedly waved her hands repeatedly to prove her innocence.
“How could Immortal Master Pei possibly like his own master?” Bai Yuheng explained through gritted teeth. “They have a pure, proper master-disciple relationship.”
The little girl asked in confusion, “Then how do you know he doesn’t like her? The storybook says that Immortal Master Pei guarded Wangxian Mountain alone for a hundred years, crying day and night, and even built an empty grave on the mountain. The inscription says—love…”
“Stop, stop, stop!” Bai Yuheng couldn’t bear to listen any longer and quickly interrupted. “That’s just baseless gossip. He isn’t Immortal Master Pei. How can you take it seriously?”
“But you’re not Immortal Master Pei either. How do you know it’s not true?” the girl questioned her.
“…” Bai Yuheng rubbed her temples and said, “I’m his new disciple as of today.”
“…”
“Ah?” the two said in unison.
Bai Yuheng clarified, “And I didn’t see any graves behind the mountain. It’s all fake, completely fake.”
“…Oh.” Both girls blushed, embarrassed, and quickly apologized, “Sorry, sorry! Just pretend we were talking nonsense.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine…”
After apologizing, the two ran off in a hurry.
Only Bai Yuheng was left standing there, dumbfounded in the wind.
Before the event even ended, she returned to Wangxian Mountain by herself.
Standing before the hall she once called home, she hesitated for a long time.
She was debating whether or not to sneak into her old bedroom.
The more she thought about it, the more she moved — the next second, she was already inside.
The once-spacious, now desolate sleeping chamber was even colder under the pale moonlight, exuding a chill that raised goosebumps.
She tread lightly, walking inside. Under the soft moonlight spilling through the windows, she looked around — everything was arranged exactly as she’d left it. Not a speck of dust had settled.
She brushed her hand over the weapon rack where her swords once lay — spotless.
It was clear that someone had cared deeply for this room after her departure.
As she walked forward, she suddenly heard a soft sound from behind a screen.
She held her breath, stealthily moved toward the sound — and froze when she realized someone was there. Just as she was about to retreat—
“Who’s there?”
—She’d been discovered.
Bai Yuheng bowed toward the approaching figure. “It is your disciple.”
She quickly explained, “I happened to pass by and noticed the door to the chamber wasn’t fully closed. I was afraid a spirit beast might have sneaked in, so I entered without permission. Please forgive this disciple’s offense, Master!”
“…” Pei Yuan listened with a cold face, saying nothing.
“Since Master was merely resting and nothing is amiss, then this disciple shall take her leave…”
“Stop,” Pei Yuan’s cold voice interrupted.
“Does Master have other instructions?”
“From now on, you are forbidden to come here again. This is your only warning. Leave!”
“Yes.”
Bai Yuheng cursed inwardly. This chamber is mine or yours? So domineering!
Bang!
Just as she stepped out the door, it slammed shut behind her with a surge of spiritual energy.
“…”
What was this brat doing in her bedroom so late at night? Bai Yuheng suddenly thought. Then she remembered — back when he first came to Wangxian Mountain, he’d always stuck close to her. He couldn’t sleep unless he lay on her soft couch beside her.
Could it be he still couldn’t sleep?
Her anger was replaced by a pang of tenderness. She sighed. It had been a hundred years since she’d left. How had he managed all this time? Back then, he had relied on her so much…
She recalled what she’d heard earlier — was he waiting for her because of what she’d once said?
“Yuan’er, wait for me on Wangxian Mountain.”
If she hadn’t told him to wait back then… would he still have…?
“Ah! Enough!” Bai Yuheng was never one to torture herself over the past. As the saying goes, ‘Regret for the past is useless.’ So she let go of the thought and returned to her current residence.
She slept soundly through the night.
The next morning.
The new disciples officially began learning how to cultivate. Those with exceptional talent were accepted directly by the elders as personal disciples. The rest still had opportunities to be taken in later through outstanding performance. Those not chosen would be assigned to other immortal masters under the elders — every disciple in Tianyan Sect had their own role to play.
Regardless of rank, all disciples attended the same basic cultivation lessons.
Unlike the others — who listened with great interest — Bai Yuheng, who had already lived hundreds of years, found the lesson unbearably dull. Resting her chin in her hand, she nearly nodded off.
Glancing at Cen Ying and Cui Mingcan — who were both furiously taking notes — Bai Yuheng sighed inwardly. Ah, fresh minds untouched by the torment of knowledge really do learn better.
When class finally ended, Bai Yuheng bolted from the hall so fast that Cen Ying, who’d come to find her, was left stunned.
“What’s wrong with her? Why’d she run off like she’s escaping a disaster?” Cui Mingcan, who happened to walk by, stared in confusion.
Cen Ying shook her head, equally puzzled.
Bai Yuheng returned to Wangxian Mountain, deciding to take a nap. The Heavenly Pivot Pavilion, where the Four-Direction Mirror was kept, was now heavily guarded. With only a third of her former power, she didn’t dare sneak in recklessly and alert the enemy. She would wait until she understood the sect’s new defenses before attempting a night infiltration.
Days passed quickly — and soon, Bai Yuheng found her chance.
While on duty cleaning near the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion, she approached the barrier and discovered it was an advanced illusion array. It could sense intruders and respond by both alerting the sect and altering the environment to confuse the invader. It even transported the Four-Direction Mirror to safety using a hidden mechanism created by Dong Xuan.
This illusion wasn’t one she had left behind — it was an improvement based on her original work.
Bai Yuheng immediately knew whose handiwork it was.
Pei Yuan.
Bai Yuheng felt a mix of pride and sentiment — My son has truly grown up.
She thought of two possible ways to enter the pavilion.
The first was to follow Pei Yuan inside when he went to reinforce the illusion. But she immediately rejected the idea — too risky, too easy to expose her identity. Pei Yuan was clever and perceptive; spending too much time near him would raise suspicion. Besides, she couldn’t predict when he’d go or if he’d take her along.
The second option was to enter on her own.
This high-level illusion might be unbreakable to others, but to her, it was nothing more than a complex puzzle — a trivial game of nine interlocking rings that barely required thought.
After studying the barrier, Bai Yuheng went home, slept peacefully, and woke the next morning with the solution in mind. But before entering the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion, she needed the help of an old companion.
That night.
The sky was clear, the moon bright as silver.
Following the path from memory, Bai Yuheng made her way to her treasure vault.
Shadows of trees danced in the moonlight, and the occasional bird call echoed through the mountain.
Her heart beat faster with excitement. She wondered how her “old partner” was doing after her supposed “death.”
Her steps quickened until she stood before a cave.
Forming a hand seal, she dispelled the barrier at the entrance.
“…”
Bai Yuheng froze for a moment.
Inside, the cave was spotless, everything clean and well maintained. Even the broken items she had once discarded were neatly arranged.
Her heart stirred as she reached out to touch a mended paper kite.
She remembered it well.
Years ago, while taking Pei Yuan down the mountain for training, they had seen children flying kites. He had watched them with longing eyes, so after their mission, she’d brought him one — a five-colored kite shaped like a phoenix.
Though the boy of ten or so often tried to act composed before her, he still had a child’s innocence. When she handed him the kite, his dark eyes lit up.
“Master! Master!”
The thin, youthful figure ran freely across the open field, holding the string in one hand and waving at her with the other — carefree and radiant.
She had stood on the hill, smiling, her calm heart rippling like the surface of a still lake stirred by spring breeze.
Now, looking at the kite in her hands, she saw the repaired stitches on its back. It had been so long she could barely remember when it broke — only that the day it did, Pei Yuan had been silent. Though he was always quiet, she could tell something was wrong.
“Master, I’m sorry.”
It was the first time he ever apologized to her. “I broke the kite you gave me.”
She’d waved it off. “It’s fine. If you like it, I’ll give you another.”
“…” He’d only nodded and shook his head, saying nothing more.
He was always such a considerate child.
Only later did she learn the kite had been broken by his senior brothers who mocked him — and in retaliation, he trapped them in an illusion for three days and nights until others discovered it and brought the matter to her.
Bai Yuheng’s thoughts returned. She carefully set the kite down and glanced around the cave.
Then she noticed — almost every item here, big or small, precious or ordinary — was connected to him.
There was the treasure she’d gifted him when he first became her disciple.
The weapon she rewarded him with after his first successful mission.
The trinkets they’d brought back from their adventures together…
And of course, her own tools and weapons — all resting quietly in their places, preserved as if she’d never left, each radiating a sense of cherished care.
Bai Yuheng didn’t know how to describe the feeling swelling in her chest — only that it was bittersweet. A sudden urge to hug him welled up in her heart, just as she had when she first brought him back to Wangxian Mountain.
“Wuu~”
A faint hum snapped her back to her senses. She remembered her purpose here was not nostalgia, but to find the aid she needed to enter the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion.
A sharp pain spread through her arm. She raised her hand, pulling up her sleeve — revealing a pale arm encircled by glowing golden markings. The closer to her hand, the deeper the markings burned, emitting a gold-red light, the heat growing more intense. The humming from the cave deepened in response.
“…”
Bai Yuheng steadied herself and stepped deeper into the cave.
Moments later, a shadow descended silently outside the entrance — covering the paper kite she had just touched.
“…”