It must have been that he had not slept all night and was hallucinating, Chong Wuxi thought. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and pinched his own cheek.
The small pixie-like figure sitting on his master’s shoulder blinked its large eyes, following the movement of Chong Wuxi’s actions.
Chong Wuxi: “…”
He must have gone insane.
A slight sound came from behind him. Yin Jiuli turned around and found his new apprentice face-down in the snow with his rear end in the air. He flicked his fingers, and the small clouds accompanying Chong Wuxi dug the young boy out of the snowdrift.
Covered in snow, Chong Wuxi did not need to guess how wretched he looked. He explained awkwardly, “Master, I just wanted to wake myself up.”
“Are you awake now?”
Jimo Peak was cold all year round, and the snow here was much colder than anywhere else. A gust of wind blew, and Chong Wuxi shivered. “Yes, I am awake.”
He reached out to grab a small cloud for warmth, but looking down, he saw the small figure floating by his leg. Chong Wuxi felt his sanity slipping away again.
He trembled as he looked up, stammering, “Master, is there something by my leg?”
This was a cultivation world teeming with spiritual energy, a place of immortals, demons, ghosts, and spirits. Some terrifying evil spirit must have infiltrated the Xuanqing Sect, taking the Master’s form to bewitch him.
Chong Wuxi was terrified of ghosts. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling as though his soul had already departed his body.
“There is nothing.”
Chong Wuxi cautiously opened one eye. The small figure floating by his leg was gone. He exhaled a long sigh of relief, looked up, and saw the figure back on his master’s shoulder.
The small figure seemed to find his skittish behavior highly amusing; its large eyes sparkled, and the corners of its mouth curved upward.
Chong Wuxi froze, forcing himself to calm down. He could not keep acting like this, or his master would surely think he had lost his mind.
With a master who possessed Mahayana-realm cultivation, the figure surely would not dare to do anything to him. Calm down. You saw nothing. There is nothing here. Do not let your imagination run wild. Chong Wuxi frantically tried to brainwash himself.
He averted his gaze from the small figure. “Master, where are we staying?”
Previously, Chong Wuxi had been too intimidated to speak to this immortal-like master, but thanks to the small figure, he no longer found his master quite as frightening; he was only slightly worried about being labeled a lunatic.
However, no strange expression appeared on Yin Jiuli’s face. He performed a hand seal, and the swirling snow of Jimo Peak slowly converged, eventually forming a snow house.
The Nine Li Immortal Venerable had no need for shelter from the elements; this snow house had been built specifically for him. Chong Wuxi crawled inside. Unlike the cold, crystal-clear exterior, the interior was quite warm.
Since becoming the disciple of the Nine Li Immortal Venerable was now an accomplished fact, he would let nature take its course.
Chong Wuxi was determined to build a good relationship with his master, becoming a filial disciple so that even if he could not avoid the original plot, his master might spare his life.
Just as the secret realm of the Immortal Ascension Ladder had shown him mercy.
Senior Sister Xuan Ling had once said that in the eyes of his master, all living beings were merely grass and trees. He would simply strive to be the most special grass or tree.
Chong Wuxi walked around the snow house and discovered it was much larger inside than it appeared, functioning much like a storage bag.
He untied the storage bag from his belt and dumped out the tables, chairs, and bedding.
Yin Jiuli entered upon hearing the commotion and found his apprentice struggling to drag a carved wooden chair, his face flushed from the exertion.
“There is no need for such excessive effort.”
Chong Wuxi paused. A disciple should listen to their master, but not every suggestion had to be followed; decorating the room was essential.
He clumsily used a Loading Talisman to set up the cold jade bed given to him by the Sect Leader, placed a small side table next to it, and turned around excitedly. “Master!”
His apprentice’s cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were bright. Yin Jiuli paused, then walked over to sit on the cold jade bed and closed his eyes to rest.
The Master, dressed in white, looked a bit stark sitting on the snowy-white jade bed. Chong Wuxi thought for a moment and took a red crystal flow-cloud vase from his bag, placing it on the side table.
Before leaving Piao Miao Peak, he had plucked a lotus flower from the pond as a keepsake. The storage bag given to him by Senior Sister Xuan Ling had a special array that kept medicinal herbs and spiritual plants from wilting.
Chong Wuxi removed the lotus and carefully inserted it into the vase. The lotus, nourished by the sect’s spiritual array, trembled slightly, instantly filling the room with fragrance.
Yin Jiuli’s gaze fell upon the lotus for a brief moment before he closed his eyes again. The small figure on his shoulder, however, eagerly pounced onto the petals, rubbing against them with a look of pure adoration.
Chong Wuxi: “…”
Do not look. Do not think. Do not fear. Do not panic.
Chong Wuxi forced himself to ignore the figure sitting on the lotus and took out a plate of steamed pork with lotus leaf and a plate of candied lotus root from his storage bag.
Since he could not yet fast, he had brought plenty of food. After filling his stomach, his brain began to function again.
He gathered the courage to glance at the figure still clutching the lotus flower. It was an exact, miniature version of his master.
White robes, ink-black hair, and the red flame mark on its forehead. While his master was tall and slender, the figure had a large head and small body, chubby cheeks, and short arms and legs, shorter even than his own.
Chong Wuxi suddenly felt the figure was not only harmless but extremely adorable.
His master was the only Mahayana cultivator in the Qingyuan Realm; all monsters and demons would have nowhere to hide before him. Therefore, the figure could not be a transformed evil spirit.
Could it be his master’s primordial spirit?
But the figure was clearly different from his master. His master had no desires or emotions, while the figure was full of life, laughing happily and refusing to let go of its favorite things.
Chong Wuxi pondered for a long time without reaching a conclusion. He patted his round stomach and decided to find something to do to digest his meal.
Fourth Elder Xuan Mu was a talisman cultivator. Chong Wuxi used the Loading Talisman he had received to continue moving the furniture.
Xuan Mu’s talismans were well-crafted, but since Chong Wuxi had not begun cultivating, their effectiveness was limited. The Begonia wood table floated shakily in the air, threatening to fall.
Yin Jiuli flicked his sleeve, and the swaying table stopped instantly, frozen in place.
Chong Wuxi bowed quickly. “Thank you, Master.”
Yin Jiuli cast a cold glance at him, moved the table into the corner, and neatly arranged the rest of the scattered furniture.
Tasks that had taken him so much effort were settled by his master with a simple hand seal. Cultivating diligently was truly the most important thing. Chong Wuxi took out the Asking Fate Formula.
The Asking Fate Formula was a foundational technique for Qi Condensation disciples, which every Xuanqing Sect disciple possessed. If a disciple wished to practice other techniques, they had to visit the Library Tower.
Although the ancient language of the Qingyuan Realm differed from modern writing, it followed rules. Chong Wuxi had spent a month mastering it. It seemed that after awakening his mutated Light-type spirit root, his memory and comprehension had improved significantly.
He opened the book and began to practice according to the instructions. Drawing Qi into the body meant channeling spiritual energy into one’s meridians to complete a minor cycle and condense the energy.
For someone with a single-element spirit root, this usually took three days. The first step was to sense the spiritual energy in heaven and earth.
Chong Wuxi closed his eyes and centered his focus, but where was the spiritual energy? Why could he not feel a thing?
He must have opened his eyes incorrectly. He squeezed them shut and opened them again, but instead of sensing spiritual energy, he saw the small figure clutching his leg.
Chong Wuxi was startled, his blood rushing to his head until his ear tips turned red.
The figure floated in mid-air, blinking its large eyes at him.
Chong Wuxi bit his lip and stepped back, but the figure persistently chased him, continuing to stare with wide eyes, looking incredibly curious.
Chong Wuxi turned and ran; the figure reacted swiftly and gave chase.
Yin Jiuli opened his eyes and found his apprentice running laps around the snow house. He performed a hand seal, and a cloud gathered at his fingertip.
As Chong Wuxi ran, he suddenly felt himself lift into the air. He was brought before his master by a small cloud and was forced to say, “Master, the disciple cannot draw Qi into his body.”
Yin Jiuli’s gaze fell on the Asking Fate Formula. “Common techniques are not suitable for you.”
He took Chong Wuxi out of the snow house and into the swirling snow.
A gentle white light enveloped him, flowing through his meridians. Chong Wuxi closed his eyes and tried to sense the changes around him.
Suddenly, countless points of light emerged from the air, rushing into Chong Wuxi’s body. He felt as though he had merged with his environment. Chong Wuxi closed his eyes.
By the time he opened them again, the night was deep. He took a deep breath and felt lighter, as if a shackle had been lifted from his body.
He turned and saw the small figure sitting beside him. It still had ink-black hair and white robes, but its color had turned quite transparent. In the blink of an eye, it became a phantom and then disappeared completely.
Chong Wuxi waited for a long time, but it did not reappear. He frowned and began to think about how it had appeared in the first place.
A soft sound came from behind him. Yin Jiuli opened his eyes to see his apprentice trip over his own feet and dive into the snow.