The white clad immortal was cold as frost, his voice chiming like the resonance of a string, yet Chong Wuxi felt a sudden tremor of fear.
His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand. A wave of darkness blurred his vision. Unconsciously, his fingers twitched, brushing against the storage bag at his waist.
A Mahayana realm cultivator can glimpse the true essence of immortality. Had the Nine Li Immortal Venerable discovered that he had transmigrated? Did he know that all of them were merely characters in a book? Would he kill him?
The Ten Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains scroll given to him by his senior brother would be perfect for escaping, but how did one use it again?
Conflicting, chaotic thoughts flooded his mind. His brain felt overloaded, and Chong Wuxi’s mind went blank for a fleeting moment.
Xuan Ling was equally bewildered. She glanced up at the Martial Uncle, who was sitting with his eyes closed in meditation, then hurriedly set up a sound-proof barrier with trembling hands. She pulled Sect Leader Xuan Su, Fourth Elder Xuan Mu, and Chong Wuxi inside. “What is going on?”
“What does ‘He is not a person of this world; there is no need for a Taoist name’ even mean?”
Xuan Mu glared at her. “The Martial Uncle is still right there. Do you have a death wish?”
“In the Martial Uncle’s eyes, all living beings are but grass and trees. How could an exiled immortal care about the actions of grass and trees?”
Xuan Mu scoffed softly. “Then why are you shaking?”
“I shake if I want to.” Xuan Ling turned to look at Chong Wuxi. “Junior Brother, what is going on?”
Having transmigrated into a child, his mental age had been assimilated, and Chong Wuxi could not always hold back his tears. Sometimes he did not want to cry, but the tears would fall uncontrollably under the influence of his emotions. He rubbed his reddened eyes. “I do not know either.”
Sect Leader Xuan Su pondered for a moment before speaking. “Junior Brother, can you tell us about your origins?”
Chong Wuxi pressed his lips together and repeated the story he had used to deceive the Carefree Wanderer.
“Falling into a river? Why does that sound so familiar?” Xuan Ling frowned, pulled a palm-sized ancient book from her sleeve, and flipped through it for a long while before stopping at a certain page. “Junior Brother, have you heard of Changning Village in the Qingyuan Realm?”
Chong Wuxi paused and retrieved the name plate he had kept in his storage bag, handing it to Xuan Ling.
Xuan Ling glanced at the name plate. “That is it!”
“There are three thousand great worlds, and beyond the Qingyuan Realm, there are countless others. According to the Qingyuan Records, every great world is connected by special secret passages. The one connected to our realm is the Yaoguang Realm, and the secret passage between the two worlds lies near a river in Changning Village.”
“Junior Brother, you must be a native of the Yaoguang Realm who drifted into the Qingyuan Realm due to a twist of fate.”
Chong Wuxi remained silent.
But the part about falling into a river and losing his memory was just a lie he had improvised in his panic!
“Is there any possibility that I am actually a member of the demon clan?” Chong Wuxi asked, giving up on himself.
“Why are you so obsessed with being a demon?” Xuan Ling said helplessly. “Not to mention that the Demon-Subduing Mirror can pierce through all disguises of ordinary demons, if you were a demon, why would the Martial Uncle have taken you as his apprentice?”
Chong Wuxi bit his finger and paced the room anxiously. After circling the room many times, he was finally forced to calm down because he had made himself dizzy.
He had arrived at the scene of the Xuanqing Sect’s selection, and the Carefree Wanderer had mentioned he suffered from wandering soul syndrome, so he had fabricated the story about the river.
When he first arrived, he had felt light-headed, and his mind had been in a fog; how could he have immediately crafted a story with perfect logic? Now that he thought about it, the story about falling into a river might have been a subconscious memory from the original owner.
But did “not a person of this world” really mean he was from another realm? The demon clan was born in the depths of the lightless, windless earth; “not a person of this world” could also refer to demons.
The book did not detail how the original owner fell into the demonic path. Was it possible that the original owner was inherently a demon? Since immortals and demons had been enemies since ancient times, that would explain why the master would ruthlessly kill his disciple.
Chong Wuxi turned to look at Xuan Ling. “Senior Sister, is the Qingyuan Records in your hand reliable?”
“Of course. It is one of our sect’s seven treasures, said to have been written five thousand years ago by an immortal who successfully ascended.”
“You also know that the Qingyuan Records is one of the seven treasures.” Sect Leader Xuan Su’s expression darkened. “Do you know what a grave crime it is to steal sect secrets?”
“Stop lecturing me! I will give it back!” Xuan Ling covered her ears, handed the name plate back to Chong Wuxi, and reluctantly passed the Qingyuan Records to Xuan Su.
Fourth Elder Xuan Mu patted Chong Wuxi’s fine, soft hair. “Everyone in the Qingyuan Realm has black hair. You are the only one with silver hair and light eyes. It turns out you are from another world.”
Is that so? Chong Wuxi looked up at the Nine Li Immortal Venerable on the jade platform.
His sword was like a cold light breaking through the clouds, his blade like biting snow. There were countless immortal sects in the Qingyuan Realm and four great masters at the Spirit Severing stage, but the Nine Li Immortal Venerable was undeniably the number one person in the realm.
Of the ten main peaks of the Xuanqing Sect, Jimo Peak was the highest and the closest to heaven. Its master truly resembled an immortal from the nine heavens; his gaze was always indifferent, without joy or sorrow, and in his eyes, all living beings were no different from the falling snow on Jimo Peak.
Chong Wuxi stared blankly at the Nine Li Immortal Venerable, his thoughts drifting far away. By the time he came back to his senses, the sound-proof barrier had been removed.
Sect Leader Xuan Su said respectfully, “Before he reaches the Foundation Establishment stage, Junior Martial Uncle will stay on Piao Miao Peak to study with the new disciples. Please do not worry, Martial Uncle; I will certainly take good care of him.”
“There is no need.” Yin Jiuli lowered his eyes, swept a glance over the glass shards on the floor, and gave a light flick of his sleeve. “He will follow me.”
The glass shards instantly turned into powder. Xuan Su was stunned. “Yes.”
“Sect Leader Brother, did you not say that Master wanted me to stay on Piao Miao Peak?” Chong Wuxi glared resentfully at Xuan Su. “Jimo Peak is so cold; will I freeze to death if I go there?”
“The Martial Uncle has finally taken an apprentice; how could he let you freeze to death? However, it will be hard for us to see you once you go to Jimo Peak.” Xuan Ling looked as if she were facing a tragic parting, emptying many cold-repelling pills from her storage bag for Chong Wuxi.
“Those who know you think you are raising a junior brother; those who don’t would think you are raising a son.”
“If it were not for cultivating the Dao of Heartlessness.” Xuan Ling glared at Xuan Mu. “But the son I bear would certainly not be as obedient and cute as the Junior Martial Uncle.”
“Fifth Senior Sister is cultivating the Dao of Heartlessness?!”
Chong Wuxi was shocked. Xuan Ling’s emotions were volatile and expressive; she did not seem like someone practicing the Dao of Heartlessness at all.
“Your Senior Sister is an orthodox witch from the Miao territory and a talented art-cultivator, the likes of which we see once in a century,” Xuan Mu said with a grin. “Unfortunately, she chose the wrong path, which is why she remains an ordinary Nascent Soul master to this day.”
“Heh, you all will be crying if I ever truly master the Dao of Heartlessness!”
Chong Wuxi silently watched the two squabbling. He had realized that from top to bottom, the Xuanqing Sect was incredibly laid-back; a relaxing atmosphere of lying flat permeated the entire sect.
When Ye Yizhou heard that Chong Wuxi was leaving Piao Miao Peak, he ran over to bid a long and emotional farewell. After seeing him off, Chong Wuxi was met by an unexpected visitor.
Zongzheng Lan still wore a haughty expression. Dressed in the Xuanqing Sect robes, he slammed a jade token onto the table. “Although your talent and cultivation are a bit inferior to mine, I still want to defeat you fairly. I will certainly reach the Foundation Establishment stage before you!”
Chong Wuxi put away the jade token and nodded. “Very well, Martial Nephew.”
Zongzheng Lan had already been dissatisfied with Chong Wuxi’s suddenly elevated seniority, and hearing the words “Martial Nephew” made his hair stand on end. He stormed off in a rage.
Teasing children was fun. Chong Wuxi happily began packing his luggage, but the moment he thought about how Jimo Peak had nothing, his mood soured.
He packed the magical artifacts and pills he had received into his storage bag, followed by his daily necessities, pillows, and bedding. Looking at the now-empty bedroom, Chong Wuxi hesitated for a moment before packing the table and chairs into the bag as well.
Direct disciples and inner disciples of the Xuanqing Sect were permitted two servants, but as a modern person, Chong Wuxi was not used to being served, so he had sent back the servants the Sect Leader had provided.
He began to regret it. What if there was no food on Jimo Peak? He did not know how to cook at all. Did he have to drink dew like that immortal?
The little boy with silver hair rested his chin on his hands, distressed, as he sat by the lotus pond. The weather was clear and the spring day was bright; with the sound of birdsong blending with the breeze, Chong Wuxi slowly fell asleep.
In his dream, he entered the Immortal Ascension Ladder again. This time, the long-legged snow bird in the secret realm flapped its wings, flew toward him, and pecked him angrily.
Chong Wuxi was knocked to the ground by the snow bird and stared blankly as he raised his hand to touch his face. It was cool and refreshing; it did not hurt at all. The snow bird screeched sharply, its body growing dozens of times larger, blotting out the sky as it swooped down.
Chong Wuxi woke up in a fright.
It turned out that the cool sensation on his face was falling snow. Piao Miao Peak, which was spring-like all year round, had finally welcomed its first snowfall. Amidst the swirling snow, the black-haired, white-robed immortal approached slowly and stopped before him.
“Come.”
Chong Wuxi paused, stood up, and followed the Nine Li Immortal Venerable out of the courtyard. He was reluctant to leave, so he stopped and looked back, but the snow obscured his vision, and he could see nothing. He sighed with a sense of loss.
The Nine Li Immortal Venerable did not use his sword but summoned a cloud to carry Chong Wuxi to Jimo Peak.
The wind howled with snow. Chong Wuxi, in his thin robes, shrank his neck against the cold wind. A little cloud floated over, radiating heat like a small stove to dispel the chill for him.
Chong Wuxi scrutinized it and realized it was the same cloud as before. He smiled slightly. “Thank you, Master.”
The white-robed, black-haired immortal did not respond, but Chong Wuxi was busy trying to mold the little cloud into a different shape, playing happily and not caring if his words were acknowledged.
Clouds were originally mixtures of water vapor, droplets, ice crystals, and air, but the little cloud before him felt like cotton candy.
He poked the soft little cloud. “Can you turn into two halves?”
The little cloud did not split, but another new cloud appeared to Chong Wuxi’s right. One after another, little clouds emerged from around Chong Wuxi, circling him. Chong Wuxi frowned in distress; he felt like he could not walk.
The little clouds must have been created by Master. Chong Wuxi looked up, about to say something, when he tripped. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the expected pain did not arrive; a cold hand caught him just in time.
Chong Wuxi stood steady, lowered his head, and bowed. “Thank you for saving me, Master.”
Making a fool of himself in front of Master on his first day of apprenticeship, Chong Wuxi looked up anxiously and bumped into a pair of eyes as still as an ancient well.
The Nine Li Immortal Venerable’s pupils were pitch black, as if soaked in a pool of water that never warmed. Chong Wuxi shivered and shifted his gaze, only to widen his eyes.
He saw a little figure sitting on Master’s shoulder, a pixie-like little figure. The little figure had white robes, ink-black hair, and a mark of red flame at the center of his forehead. Holding his chubby cheeks with two hands, he stared at Chong Wuxi without blinking.