“Disciples Xuan Su, Xuan Mu, and Xuan Ling pay respects to the Martial Uncle.”
Martial Uncle?
Chong Wuxi, kneeling on the ground, could not help but lift his head when he heard that title.
The mountain mist was wrapped in a thin layer of moonlight, and amidst the falling snow, he saw a scattering of fresh snow drifting down from the heavens.
It was an immortal with white robes and ink-black hair.
The snowflakes on his eyelashes melted into mist. Chong Wuxi rubbed his eyes and finally saw the immortal clearly.
The immortal seemed to be looking at Chong Wuxi as well, yet his pupils reflected only the bright moon hanging in the nine heavens and the pristine snow of Jimo Peak; there was no reflection of Chong Wuxi himself.
“This is the Saint Sovereign of the Xuanqing Sect, the Nine Li Immortal Venerable. He is your future master. Hurry and pay your respects!”
Xuan Ling’s telepathic message startled Chong Wuxi. He quickly lowered his head and performed a deep bow. “Greetings, Master.”
A very gentle force lifted his body. Chong Wuxi looked down and discovered that a small cloud was carrying him, floating in mid-air.
It was the same marshmallow-like cloud that had refused to let him poke it earlier.
Chong Wuxi looked back, but the white-robed, black-haired immortal had already drifted away, leaving only falling snow in the world. The snow landed on his cheeks, leaving behind a cold, melting touch.
Chong Wuxi cautiously climbed down from the little cloud and reached out to pat the spot where he had stood, realizing he had left no footprints.
The little cloud was snowy white; it looked cold, yet it radiated heat like a small flame, shielding him from the bone-chilling cold of Jimo Peak.
Xuan Ling stood up, feeling bewildered. “I thought the Martial Uncle was going to be in seclusion for a very long time.”
Chong Wuxi remained silent.
He turned and stared at the Sect Leader, Xuan Su. “Sect Leader Brother, did you not say that Master would be in seclusion for a very long time?”
Staring into the Junior Martial Uncle’s round, bright almond eyes, even the stern Xuan Su could not help but look slightly unnatural. “Perhaps because you resonated with the Martial Uncle’s Jade Chime, he chose to end his seclusion early.”
Xuan Ling was observing the cloud floating near Chong Wuxi when she suddenly felt that this sentence sounded familiar. She trembled as she turned her head, and as expected, the Junior Martial Uncle was glaring intently at her.
Xuan Ling felt extremely guilty. She averted her eyes as quickly as possible and looked up at the sky.
Chong Wuxi held his face and sighed. From the Sect Leader down to the elders, not a single person in the entire Xuanqing Sect was reliable.
Fourth Elder Xuan Mu walked over and patted his shoulder. “This is Jimo Peak. Now that the Martial Uncle has ended his seclusion, you will stay here to cultivate after the formal apprenticeship ceremony.”
Chong Wuxi looked up. All he could see was an icy lake, trees covered in ice and snow, and endless snowdrifts. There was not even a single cottage, let alone a proper dwelling.
He opened his eyes wide in disbelief. “There are no houses here. Where am I supposed to live?”
Xuan Ling opened her mouth. “I do not know.”
“Where did Master live before?”
Xuan Ling answered, “I do not know that either.”
Chong Wuxi stared at her in silence.
“I will go discuss this with the Martial Uncle.” Sect Leader Xuan Su left those words behind and flew off on his sword, and Fourth Elder Xuan Mu returned to his quarters to sleep.
Xuan Ling came over and patted Chong Wuxi’s head. “When we joined the sect, the Martial Uncle was already at the mid-stage of the Spirit Severing realm. No one knows his origins, and no one knows his true age.”
Chong Wuxi touched the cloud floating by his side. “So many years have passed; is Master still at the Spirit Severing stage?”
Xuan Ling glanced warily at her surroundings. After casting a wisp of spiritual sense to confirm that there was no third party on Jimo Peak, she whispered, “I suspect the Martial Uncle has already reached the Great Perfection of the Spirit Severing realm and has stepped into the Mahayana realm.”
The Carefree Wanderer had only mentioned the four great Spirit Severing masters in the Qingyuan Realm and had not mentioned the Mahayana realm beyond that. Chong Wuxi was confused. “Can one ascend and become an immortal in the Mahayana realm?”
“A cultivator in the Mahayana realm can glimpse the true essence of immortality. After surviving the Heavenly Tribulation, one can ascend.”
Chong Wuxi looked up at the sky. “A tribulation? A thunder tribulation?”
“If one could ascend just by surviving a thunder tribulation, why would only a handful of people have ascended in the past ten thousand years?” Xuan Ling sighed. “The Mahayana Heavenly Tribulation is far more complex than the Nine Heavens Thunder Tribulation. If you succeed, you enter the immortal realm and live as long as heaven and earth; if you fail, there is only one outcome: death and total annihilation of the soul.”
Chong Wuxi pressed his lips together and stayed silent. Fearing she had frightened him with her serious expression, Xuan Ling quickly changed to a lighter tone. “I do hope the Martial Uncle stays in the Qingyuan Realm for a while longer. After all, he is so handsome; I could eat two extra bowls of rice just by looking at him. Moreover, the demon clan is restless and showing signs of a comeback; the Xuanqing Sect needs the Martial Uncle here to guard it.”
Xuan Ling took Chong Wuxi back to Piao Miao Peak on her sword. Since the Nine Li Immortal Venerable had ended his seclusion, the apprenticeship ceremony would be held the following day.
“Our Xuanqing Sect has never been fond of tedious formalities, so tomorrow’s ceremony will not be complex.” Xuan Ling dropped Chong Wuxi at his courtyard gate and reached out to pat his head, only to realize that he was shivering violently. “Why are you so nervous?”
Chong Wuxi sniffed. “Senior Sister, if I were to become a demon, would you kill me?”
“When the ancient gods created the world, the pure rose to become heaven and the turbid sank to become earth. The demon clan was born in the depths of the lightless, windless earth.” Xuan Ling squatted down to look at Chong Wuxi. “Demons are born as demons, but you are human. How could a human become a demon? When the sect selects disciples, we use the Demon Subduing Mirror to verify their identity. The mirror is one of our sect’s seven treasures. The demon clan excels at disguise, but they have nowhere to hide before it.”
Chong Wuxi remembered the original plot of the novel. “Can a cultivator fall into the demonic path?”
“A cultivator might go astray due to deep obsessions, or become a demonic cultivator by practicing dark arts, but the demon clan is different. They are born as demons.”
Chong Wuxi pressed his lips together.
“Get a good night’s sleep; tomorrow is your apprenticeship ceremony.”
However, Chong Wuxi could not sleep at all. Regardless of the future, he had now followed the plot of the novel and become the disciple of the Nine Li Immortal Venerable. He tossed and turned, thinking of the words of Sect Leader Xuan Su and Fifth Elder Xuan Ling.
No one had expected him to awaken a mutated Light-type spirit root and resonate with the Immortal Venerable’s companion treasure. If not for that, he would never have become his disciple.
Chong Wuxi pondered for a long time before deciding to let it go and get some rest. Just as he closed his eyes, the crisp call of the time-keeping spirit bird echoed outside his window.
“Junior Martial Uncle, Master told me to take you to prepare the tea for the ceremony!”
Ye Yizhou ran into the courtyard and found his Junior Martial Uncle standing on his tiptoes, peering into a large water vat.
Ye Yizhou was confused. “Junior Martial Uncle, what are you doing?”
Chong Wuxi shook his head, which felt chaotic after a night without sleep. “Nothing. I just wanted to wake myself up so I do not make any mistakes during the ceremony.”
“You will certainly not make any mistakes. Oh, right, Master said that after you formally become his disciple, you will still remain on Piao Miao Peak.”
Chong Wuxi’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
The little snow-ball Junior Martial Uncle stared at him with eager eyes. Ye Yizhou really wanted to pat his head, but given their relative seniority, he had to restrain his twitching hand.
“Master said you are young and cannot handle the year-round cold of Jimo Peak, so he wants you to stay on Piao Miao Peak to study with the new disciples. The Saint Sovereign agreed.”
Chong Wuxi suddenly felt that his vision was clear and his legs felt strong; the entire sky seemed brighter.
The Nine Li Immortal Venerable loved quiet, so the apprenticeship ceremony was held in a small hall on Guiyuan Peak, with only the Sect Leader and two elders in attendance.
Chong Wuxi wore the flowing robes of the Xuanqing Sect and bowed respectfully toward the white-clad immortal. “Master, please accept these three bows from your disciple.”
The first bow.
Thank you to this novel for giving me a second life. The young man who lay on his deathbed would never have dreamed he would arrive in such a free and spontaneous cultivation world, flying on a sword and soaring above the nine heavens.
The second bow.
Thank you to the Carefree Wanderer for his help, allowing him to enter the Xuanqing Sect and avoiding a life of solitude.
The third bow.
Thank you to Master’s secret realm for showing mercy. Chong Wuxi could endure pain, but he feared it; he could not imagine the feeling of being sliced by wind blades and ice swords.
I will be obedient. I will not go astray, and I will not practice the demonic path.
So, please do not kill me.
Chong Wuxi stood up, holding the tea for the ceremony and the gifts for his master, and walked step by step toward Yin Jiuli.
The Saint Sovereign of the Xuanqing Sect had delicate, otherworldly brows and eyes, with a mark of red flame at the center of his forehead. Clad in white with hair like ink, he was as cold as frost.
He lowered his gaze, his eyes landing on the small boy’s reddened eyelids for a brief moment, before he took the tea cup.
The Nine Li Immortal Venerable accepted the gifts and drank the tea, and the apprenticeship was officially settled.
Drowsiness finally caught up with him. Chong Wuxi was dizzy as he took back the cup, but he tripped on the steps while retreating. The glazed cup shattered into pieces, and his arm was cut by a shard, leaving a long wound.
It hurts.
Chong Wuxi clutched his arm, holding back tears. A wisp of soft light slowly wrapped around his arm, and the wound healed instantly.
He sniffed. “Thank you, Master.”
Sect Leader Xuan Su spoke respectfully. “Please bestow a Taoist name upon him, Martial Uncle.”
Chong Wuxi looked up, ears pricked to hear his new name. After a long silence, he heard a voice:
“He is not a person of this world; there is no need for a Taoist name.”