When Yin Mingjing heard the movement and stepped inside, what he saw was this tender scene. He smiled faintly. At last, this mountaintop was not only “junior brother, junior brother.”
“Master. Little junior sister.” He stepped forward and saluted.
Yu Sang‑Sang, leaning on the Sword Sovereign’s support, quickly rose and returned the salute—this was the proper courtesy between senior and junior. “Thank you… thank you, senior brother.”
If not for Yin Mingjing’s earlier words of encouragement, she might never have dared to run in again and entangle herself with the Sword Sovereign. She had nearly missed the best person. Her heart brimmed with gratitude, and she hurried to thank Yin Mingjing. Then joy bubbled up again—heaven knew how bitter it had been to wake up as a pitiful wretch in the imperial tomb. But now she had shelter, and moreover…
“Master, Master!” She rubbed her hands, circling the silent Sword Sovereign with a beaming smile. “Does this mean I can flaunt your prestige now?”
Who would dare bully her again? Once she stepped outside, she would hold her head high, nostrils to the sky, pointing upward and loudly declaring to anyone she met: “My master is Qingyan Sword Sovereign!”
So glorious—just imagining it filled her with pride.
Qingyan Sword Sovereign: …
He felt that all his recent solemn reflections had been fed straight to Yu Sang‑Sang.
“Go inform the sect. Record her under my name.” Though there had been no formal, solemn ceremony of apprenticeship, since she had bowed to him, she was his disciple.
That meant she was now part of the Lingxiao Sect, an inner disciple, to be officially registered so she would have her place and resources in the future.
He lifted his hand, and a flash of spiritual light passed.
Yu Sang‑sang felt a sharp sting at her fingertip as a drop of blood was forced out, falling into the palm of Sword Sovereign Qingyan.
After examining it for a moment, Qingyan put it away and said with a stern face, “Make it your life‑soul lamp.”
He always looked cold and unfeeling. But Yu Sang‑sang had already come to understand—this was a man with a frosty exterior and a warm heart. Even the story’s portrayal of him wasn’t quite accurate. It painted him as too aloof, too disdainful to commit evil. In truth, he wasn’t indifferent at all. It was simply that his past wounds had made him reluctant to draw close to others.
Thinking back to the tale’s descriptions of his youth, to the persecutions he endured, it was remarkable that Qingyan had held out until reaching the Immortal rank before succumbing to corruption. And even after his fall into the demonic path, he never committed vile deeds. At most, he abandoned Lingxiao Sect, washed his hands of it, and walked away.
For Yu Sang‑sang, what mattered was whether a person was good. Whether one was cultivated as an immortal or a demon made little difference. After all, this world was vast, with countless beings—including demon clans—who lived without hostility, side by side in peace. What she truly dreaded was seeing Qingyan consumed by inner demons. That torment of the heart was a cruel suffering. As a dutiful disciple, she wished her revered master could be spared such burdens, that he might find genuine joy.
“Master, master—everyone says a disciple should share the master’s labors. Is there anything you need me to do? I am devoted to serving you. Your happiness is my happiness.”
She was so filial!
Qingyan silently thought that this incessant chatter was more dreadful than any inner demon. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the image of this little disciple circling him like a puppy. His head buzzed.
“No need for your filial piety.”
In this world, the more devoted the child, the greater the danger. Qingyan felt he had no need of a disciple’s service. With a flick of his finger, a streak of spiritual light shot forth. A gleaming storage ring landed in Yu Sang‑sang’s hand. Peeking inside, her eyes lit up—stones of spiritual power, treasures of every kind, and elixirs filled it to the brim. Her master was fabulously wealthy. She did not stand on ceremony, hurriedly offering thanks while pondering what she could give as a disciple’s gift in return. After some thought, her eyes lit up. She drew out a jade slip, closed her eyes, and inscribed within it the *Supreme Purity Record* she had comprehended.
Qingyan was the strongest in this realm—he had everything he could want. She could have excused herself with the saying “a light gift but heavy sentiment” and simply offered some trinket from her silver bracelet.
But Yu Sang‑Sang felt that since he was willing to treat her kindly, she should give him the very best she had. And what was her best? Naturally, it was her cultivation method.
For cultivators who reached the Immortal stage, ordinary techniques offered little further help. At that level, progress depended mostly on one’s own understanding of heaven and earth. But the *Supreme Purity Record* was different.
Yu Sang‑Sang remembered that at its highest level, it still contained guidance for Immortal cultivation. If an Immortal could comprehend it, they could continue refining their path—perhaps even surpass the Immortal stage. Since she possessed it, she did not wish to keep it hidden for herself alone. After all, it was something granted by the game; if it could benefit her master, so much the better.
She respectfully presented the jade slip to Qingyan. At first, he paid it little mind. Though he knew Yu Sang‑Sang might have inherited the Jing clan’s treasures, truth be told… The Jing clan had many valuables, but none he would care for. Even their cultivation method—the *Suxin Manual*, famed ten thousand years ago when Fairy Suwen rose to prominence—had never interested him. So when he saw Yu Sang‑Sang produce a jade slip, he assumed it was the *Suxin Manual*. He glanced at it casually. But when his divine sense swept over it, he paused, focused, then looked up at the little girl gazing at him with expectant eyes.
“The *Supreme Purity Record*?” This method was profound and, astonishingly, even offered guidance for Immortal cultivation. As he skimmed it, Qingyan himself felt a flicker of insight. He frowned slightly.
“Will this be of help to you, Master?”
“You’re not cultivating the Jing clan’s *Suxin Manual?” The handsome man gave a soft “Mm,” his long, elegant fingers turning the jade slip. To think that with just one glance the *Supreme Purity Record* could stir his very soul—then to recall that this child had advanced to Foundation Establishment in barely a month—only a fool would fail to see that this was an exceedingly rare treasure, one that even Immortal‑stage experts would fight to possess. He asked quietly, “You are giving this to me?”
“If it can help Master, then it is my filial devotion.”
Filial devotion again… Though he had never cared about his appearance, Qingyan almost felt the urge to look in a mirror, to see if he truly looked so aged—as though he were her father.
“This is a supreme treasure. You must not let others know of it.” Such a treasure would invite covetous eyes. For a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator to carry it was no different from a child walking through a crowded market with gold in his arms. So reckless, truly…
“But Master is not ‘others.’” Yu Sang‑Sang was no fool. How could she casually show such a treasure to anyone? When she killed Wei Li, she hadn’t even dared to take out her more conspicuous artifacts at first.
Otherwise, how would Wei Li have had the chance to smear her face with baleful qi?
Qingyan stilled for a moment, focusing on her eyes. What he saw in the smiling girl before him was nothing but trust. For the first time, his cold heart felt troubled.
“From now on, you must say only that you cultivate the methods I have passed to you.” He paused and, for the first time in a thousand years, could not help rubbing the corner of his eye. With long fingers pressed to his brow, Qingyan said slowly, “Be more cautious.”
Before her, he had already taken three disciples. The first two were full of schemes, each with eight hundred tricks up their sleeves. The third might have been a bit dull, but at least his strength was overwhelming—brute force sufficed. Only this one was delicate, weak, and fatally simple‑hearted.
“Disciple understands.” Yu Sang‑Sang tilted her head, then asked, “Master, may senior brother also cultivate this method?”
Yin Mingjing froze. He had been watching this new master‑disciple pair exchange words for some time, amused to see the Sword Sovereign actually showing a trace of weariness. Just as he was enjoying it, he heard her question. He had never imagined his little junior sister would insist that no benefit be withheld. He was about to speak when Qingyan, after some thought, said, “This is your method. You decide.”
He never coveted his disciples’ possessions, nor would he presume that what she gave him required his judgment. Yu Sang‑Sang quickly produced another jade slip inscribed with the *Supreme Purity Record* and handed it to Yin Mingjing.
Yin Mingjing accepted without fuss, thanked her, and inwardly wondered what kind of treasure could make even the Sword Sovereign take notice. As his divine sense swept over the jade slip, his expression grew grave.
“This truly is…” He could not help but feel worried. His little junior sister was far too sincere—it was enough to make one anxious. How could there be such a simple child?
“I have no plans to travel soon. I’ll spend more time telling little junior sister about the outside world.” She needed to learn the truth of human hearts and their dangers. He had always been a proper senior brother, teaching his juniors well in self‑preservation. Normally, the Sword Sovereign had no cause for concern. But seeing Yu Sang‑Sang’s eyes curve with a happy smile, he finally condensed three streaks of azure light in his hand. The sharp light transformed into three slender willow‑leaf blades, flashing once before settling into her hair.
Yu Sang‑Sang touched the ornament, then pulled out a mirror to look—she thought the willow‑leaf hairpin was quite pretty.
“This is Master’s three strands of sword qi, unmatched even among Immortals.” Yin Mingjing was momentarily stunned. After serving as his master’s disciple for so many years, he had never received even a single strand of sword qi. Yet now his little junior sister had them. He couldn’t help but sigh.
“Once the sword qi is activated, even aside from its power to kill, the sword intent itself is unique to Master, known to all. Anyone who sees it will know you are under his protection. Unless they wish to make an enemy of Master, none would dare strike at you.”
He laughed, then offered his own congratulatory gift to Yu Sang‑Sang, already resolving to find her some rare treasures later. They might not compare to the *Supreme Purity Record*, but at least she would not be left at a disadvantage. He added warmly, “You have two other senior brothers. They are not in the sect right now, but once I send word, they will return to meet you.”
All three of Qingyan’s disciples were outstanding men. Even the weakest among them had already perfected the Nascent Soul stage. Naturally, they did not spend their lives shut away in cultivation; they roamed the world, seeking opportunities to advance further.
Yu Sang‑Sang quickly agreed. She was obedient and considerate, and did not seem the sort to stir up trouble.
Thinking of his troublesome junior brothers, Yin Mingjing could not help but feel extra fondness for her. “Perhaps…” He considered taking his little junior sister around the sect’s various peaks, letting everyone know she was the Sword Sovereign’s disciple, so they would treat her with greater respect. And, of course, to show off his lovely, adorable junior sister. Such a good girl, and she was theirs—how could he not flaunt her?
But before he could finish speaking, Qingyan suddenly said slowly, “Isn’t Shangyong of Danxia Sect about to celebrate his birthday? Didn’t he send an invitation to the sect?”
So the insect who dared to covet his disciple’s identity was about to appear?