Inside the cave was another world altogether. Two faint blue flames burned on either side — they gave off no warmth, yet they illuminated the entire space.
At the deepest part of the cave stood a stone pillar, half a man’s height, engraved with intricate patterns. Above it floated a small orb emitting a faint golden glow.
Inside that orb lay a tiny golden snake, coiled up and motionless, its eyes half-shut as if in hibernation.
Bai Yuheng’s heart leapt with joy. She had guessed right — Yuanguang and the others really had preserved her spirit familiar. She couldn’t take her eyes off the little golden snake, staring at it with both wonder and tenderness.
But soon she remembered her purpose here. Forcing down her excitement, she quickly formed a series of hand seals and murmured an incantation.
Suddenly, a disturbance sounded behind her. Bai Yuheng’s eyes flew open. She reached toward the orb — and at once, a thin thread of light wrapped around her outstretched hand.
“What are you doing here?”
A tall shadow appeared behind her, blocking the moonlight that streamed through the entrance. His overwhelming spiritual pressure bore down on her, making it hard to breathe.
Not good, Bai Yuheng thought, turning around with a startled, awkward smile. “M-Master? Why are you here too?”
Pei Yuan’s gaze was cold, staring at her as though she were a corpse. Beneath his sleeve, spiritual energy gathered in his palm — as if he would strike her dead the moment she moved.
“I should be asking you why you’re here,” Pei Yuan said icily, his tone sharp as a blade. “And for what purpose you came. Why did you come straight to this place? Were you planning to steal it?”
It was the first time he had spoken so many words to her — each one colder and heavier than the last.
Bai Yuheng forced a nervous laugh. “Well, uh, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d do some exercise behind the mountain. Then I found this cave and—uh—couldn’t resist going in to take a look…”
“…” Pei Yuan narrowed his eyes and raised his hand — and in an instant, invisible energy lifted her off the ground by the throat. “Tell the truth.”
He didn’t believe her.
The pressure around her neck tightened. Bai Yuheng had never seen this side of Pei Yuan before — gone was the warm, bright boy she remembered. In his place stood something cold and serpentine, his presence coiling around her like an icy snake, crimson eyes gleaming with lethal intent, deciding where best to bite.
A stranger’s face — and the chill of a predator.
“Speak! Who are you really?”
The suffocating force shocked Bai Yuheng into focus. She countered with a quick hand seal, breaking free from his hold.
Coughing, she steadied herself against the stone pillar and rubbed her sore neck. “Ha… haha… Master, it’s me, your disciple!” she said, trying to laugh it off while her mind raced for a way out.
“Still lying!” Pei Yuan snapped, sending another thread of glowing energy to bind her.
Bai Yuheng flung it aside — the light unraveled and vanished.
“You!?” Pei Yuan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Who are you?”
Feigning confusion, Bai Yuheng replied, “I’m not anyone! What are you talking about, Master?”
“…” Pei Yuan fell silent for a long moment — and then his expression hardened.
“Lies!”
In the next heartbeat, he attacked.
Bai Yuheng dodged but didn’t retaliate. “Master, if you must fight, let’s at least go outside! Don’t break anything in here!” she called out loudly.
“…” Pei Yuan froze mid-strike, then withdrew his power.
They stepped out of the cave. Bai Yuheng had already thought of a plan.
“I’ll be honest with you, Master,” she said.
Pei Yuan looked at her indifferently. “What trick are you planning now?”
“You took me as your disciple,” Bai Yuheng began, her tone aggrieved, “but in all these months you haven’t taught me a single thing. I’m not satisfied. My talent surpasses the others’, and I came to Tianyan Sect through countless hardships just to gain true skill — to one day stand above those who once humiliated me!”
Her voice rose with passion, eyes burning with real hatred. Pei Yuan, hearing her, saw a reflection of his younger self.
“But though you accepted me, you never taught me. I heard that Grandmaster Hengluan, the former Emperor, left behind secret techniques and rare weapons. So I thought… maybe I could take a look.”
“…” Pei Yuan was silent for a long while before saying coldly, “Even if I haven’t taught you, that gives you no right to trespass or steal the Emperor’s relics.”
Drawing on years of experience dealing with him, Bai Yuheng’s eyes filled with tears. “I only wanted to study the Emperor’s arts! You refuse to teach me her techniques — can’t I learn on my own? If the Emperor were still alive, she might even praise me for being clever and diligent—”
“Silence!” Pei Yuan’s veins bulged as his expression darkened.
Bai Yuheng’s heart skipped a beat. Crap. That backfired.
“You are not worthy to speak her name!”
With that, he struck — unleashing thirty percent of his power.
Bai Yuheng cursed inwardly. This brat really doesn’t listen!
But before his attack could land, a resounding hum filled the cave. A burst of golden light shot out, rebounding his strike back toward him.
Pei Yuan dodged just in time.
Boom!
The reflected energy split a century-old tree in half. Bai Yuheng winced in pain. That tree — I planted it myself!
Pei Yuan raised his sleeve to block the glare. When his eyes adjusted, what he saw made his pupils shrink in shock.
Golden light coiled around Bai Yuheng’s body. The small golden snake within the orb had opened its eyes, meeting hers directly. It flicked its tongue, stretching its body toward her.
Her wrist was pulled upward as the light enveloped her. Pretending to panic, she cried out, “Master! Help! What is this thing?!”
Pei Yuan’s jaw clenched, his composure cracking. A bitter ache twisted his chest. He had tried countless ways to awaken the spirit — but it responded to her touch instantly.
Even in death, his master hadn’t chosen him. Even her spirit familiar rejected him.
“Master! Master! Save me!” Bai Yuheng shouted again, playing her part. “Is this stupid snake going to bite me!?”
The “stupid snake,” seemingly insulted, hissed several times in protest.
“…” Pei Yuan gritted his teeth, voice trembling with suppressed fury. “Silence! That’s the Emperor’s spirit familiar — and it’s choosing you.”
Each word tore through his heart like a blade.
The little golden snake slithered from the orb and into Bai Yuheng’s wrist. Golden markings blazed to life on her arm, glowing red-gold before a brilliant flash forced both of them to close their eyes.
When Pei Yuan opened them again, the forest was calm once more — quiet and ethereal as before.
He stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, and stared at the golden serpent mark coiled around her pale skin. His lips pressed into a hard, thin line.
“Mas… Master…”
“From now on, that spirit is yours,” he said abruptly, voice cold and tight with jealousy and pain. “Starting tomorrow, I will teach you techniques myself.”
“Thank you, Master!”
Pei Yuan shot her a frosty glare. “Don’t celebrate too soon. If you’re to be my disciple, you must endure my standards. If you can’t, leave Wangxian Mountain and never return.”
Bai Yuheng patted her chest. “Your disciple can handle it, Master!”
Noticing the murderous look he kept casting at her wrist — as if he wanted to cut it off — she grew uneasy and carefully asked, “Um… are you alright, Master?”
She had the distinct feeling he was reaching his limit.
“…” Pei Yuan glanced at her, then released her wrist. “If I ever catch you sneaking into that cave again…” he paused, his tone dropping several degrees colder, “there won’t be a next time. You’ll go back to wherever you came from.”
With a sweep of his sleeve, he turned and left.
Bai Yuheng watched his retreating figure. Somehow, it looked more like someone fleeing in defeat. The sight of his lonely back disappearing into the silent woods filled her with a faint melancholy.
She shook her head, brushing away the stray thoughts, her heart swelling with quiet joy.
Though she had only fragments of her original soul left, the spirit familiar had still recognized her as its master.
“Looks like we’ll be fighting side by side again,” she murmured with a smile.
The small golden snake on her wrist shimmered faintly, as if responding to her words.
The next day.
True to his word, Pei Yuan began teaching her cultivation. But he seemed far stricter than she remembered.
Bai Yuheng deliberately acted like a beginner, fumbling through the motions. Yet Pei Yuan’s furrowed brows only deepened, and she grew nervous — Did I overdo it? After all, she had never actually watched anyone learn for the first time. By the time she’d started formally training, she had already surpassed her peers.
Meanwhile, Pei Yuan felt anything but calm. Part of him admitted that his master’s spirit familiar hadn’t chosen wrongly — Bai Yuheng truly had great talent, perhaps even greater than his. But the other part, dark and jealous, burned at the thought that something his master left behind would rather bond with her than him.
He truly wasn’t his master’s only one.
Pei Yuan gave a bitter, self-mocking smile.
A spirit familiar is born when a cultivator perfects a technique to its utmost limit and transcends a boundary — a fragment of their soul given form. Like a sword spirit born from true unity between man and blade.
A spirit familiar only obeys its original master. After that master’s death, it either perishes or lies dormant, waiting for a cultivator with a perfectly matching nature — though such a thing is nearly impossible.
Until she appeared.
Pei Yuan couldn’t deny his jealousy. He had tried countless times to earn its acknowledgment — and failed. Yet she had done it effortlessly.
A spirit familiar embodies its master’s truest, most hidden nature — desires, attachments, obsessions. It is the mirror of one’s soul.
Bai Yuheng’s heart sank again. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her “master” was looking at her like an enemy — cold and resentful.
“Master… did I do something wrong?” she asked timidly.
“…” What could Pei Yuan say? That she was too gifted — even her act of clumsiness was full of flaws?
“No,” he finally said. “You did well.”
“Thank you for your praise, Master!” Bai Yuheng replied cheerfully, ignoring the faint grinding of his teeth.
“…” Her bright smile only deepened his gloom.
Even her temperament was good — not like his. Of course his master would have liked her more.
“Enough. That’s all for today. Practice well. I’ll teach you the next technique tomorrow.”
“Yes, Master!” Bai Yuheng said, watching him leave.
When he disappeared from sight, she looked down at the small golden snake on her wrist, gently stroking it with a grin. “Old friend, I’ll need your help tonight.”
The little snake glowed faintly in response.