The system regretted it to the core. If only it had made up a different story.
Now all it hoped was that Gu Er could keep her cover and never have her true identity discovered, or else no one would be able to protect her. Thinking this, the system continued screaming incessantly in Cen Shiqing’s mind.
Cen Shiqing was irritated by the noise, and the chain she gripped tightly in her hand shook slightly along with her agitation.
Her expression turned cold, and she unhesitatingly spoke in her mind: “Mute.”
[No. 009 muted for ten minutes.]
“??” The system was completely stunned. That bug that Gu Er, that airhead, had never discovered in centuries, Cen Shiqing had found it in just a few days.
The corner of Cen Shiqing’s mouth curled upward, revealing a satisfied smile. She stopped paying attention to the chaos in her mind and continued climbing the chain with full focus.
Just then, a boomerang came flying with a fierce gust of wind.
Cen Shiqing narrowed her eyes slightly, flipped nimbly in midair with remarkable agility, and landed steadily on the swaying iron chain.
Immediately after, another boomerang flew toward her. She reacted swiftly, leaning her body back sharply, her toes lightly tapping the chain as she glided several steps across it as if walking on flat ground. Her movements were fluid and seamless, and in the blink of an eye, she reached the other side.
Meanwhile, in the library, Gu Er searched back and forth in front of the ranking list for a long time but never found Cen Shiqing’s name.
Helpless, she casually grabbed a basic cultivation manual from the library and left.
Night fell. A bright moon hung in the sky, and faint moonlight drifted down like a thin veil of gauze, scattering across the ground like a layer of fine silver frost, glistening and shimmering.
A white figure darted swiftly through the rolling mountain peaks like a phantom, leaving only the faint rustle of leaves in its wake.
Before long, the figure arrived at the tranquil and secluded Lingyou Valley.
Mu Ci waved his hand, opening the barrier hidden within the valley, then strode toward the pool of water at its center.
Upon reaching the pool’s edge, he raised his hand and cast another spell. In an instant, the previously mirror-calm water churned as if stirred by an invisible giant hand, surging into layer upon layer of violent waves.
A majestic flood dragon burst forth from the water, its whiskers drifting and scales gleaming under the moonlight.
The dragon nuzzled affectionately against Mu Ci, then let out a dragon’s roar that echoed through the valley: “Senior Brother, why did you turn into a child’s form today?” As it spoke, it coiled its long body and circled above the pool.
After returning to the bottom of the pool, the dragon grew more and more suspicious, its mind replaying the images of that green-clad girl and purple-clad youth. They were clearly the auras of Senior Sister and Senior Brother.
It mused inwardly: Senior Sister and Senior Brother are both centuries old now, do they both enjoy dressing up as children these days?
Mu Ci raised his hand and gently stroked the dragon’s head, asking softly, “That girl who fell into the pool during the test, did she feel familiar to you?”
Hearing this, the dragon suddenly raised its head and let out a long, drawn-out cry: “She carries Senior Sister’s aura, but it doesn’t feel quite right. It’s as if something is covering it, and I can’t see it clearly.”
Mu Ci’s hand, which had been stroking the dragon, froze. A complex, unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes as he murmured to himself, “Senior Sister, it really is you. You’ve finally returned.” After a moment, he waved his hand, signaling the dragon to withdraw.
The dragon flipped over and swiftly dove back into the pool, splashing up a spray of water.
Mu Ci stood by the pool’s edge and took out the Soul-Guiding Lamp once more. It had only lit up that one time when he first encountered Gu Er at the inn, and it had never glowed again since. He didn’t know what she had been through, not only had her appearance and figure changed, but even her cultivation and memories were gone. His crow-feather-like lashes concealed the dimness in his eyes, and then he hurriedly left.
On the other side, Gu Er lay on the soft bedding. Whether because she had caught a chill from falling into the pool, she slept restlessly, her brows furrowed tightly and fine cold sweat beading at her temples.
She seemed to be having a very long dream, bizarre yet utterly real.
A girl in the blue inner-sect robes of Lingyun Sect sat sideways on the head of a colossal flood dragon, laughing merrily. The dragon’s entire body was covered in scales of deep blue, like gems from the ocean depths, clearly the very same one she had seen in the cold pool during the day.
The girl held a skewer of grilled fish in her hand, her figure bathed in a hazy halo of light, her face indistinct. Only her crisp laughter could be heard drifting on the wind. Beside her seemed to be another figure, also dressed in Lingyun Sect attire, speaking to her about something.
Suddenly, the scene shifted. A blinding, piercing crimson flooded everything! No longer the deep blue pool water, but a viscous, unyielding sea of blood! Crumbling walls and broken pillars loomed faintly through the blood mist, and the ground was littered with mangled, unrecognizable limbs.
A youth clad in robes as vivid as blood stood amidst this mountain of corpses and sea of blood. A sword was gripped in their hand, their figure upright yet exuding a chilling, deathly stillness.
The thick, cloying stench of blood seemed to pierce through the dream and rush straight into Gu Er’s nostrils, churning her stomach violently. Just as she was nearly suffocating under the hellish scene, a voice pierced through the bloody mist and dead silence, cutting sharply into her eardrums.
“Senior Sister!”
At that moment, the dream shattered abruptly!
“Shua!”
Gu Er jolted awake, her heart pounding wildly, cold sweat drenching her body, her fingertips still seeming to retain the icy touch and the thick, unshakeable scent of blood from the dream.
Those two blue-clad figures that kept appearing… who were they?
The girl who could keep appearing in her dreams should be the original owner of this body. Could it be that the original owner of this body was once a disciple of Lingyun Sect?
This thought left her dazed for a moment. But immediately, she shook her head forcefully, suppressing the chaotic thoughts.
She couldn’t dwell on this.
She was merely a lonely soul from another world who had stumbled into this realm by sheer accident, bound to a system that had latched onto the wrong host. She hadn’t even figured out who she was, so how could she have the energy to delve into the original owner’s murky past? She might as well just tell me the original owner’s past directly.
What mattered most right now was finding the true female lead, Cen Shiqing, returning this troublesome system to its rightful owner, and then… searching for a way home.
As for the flood dragon, the youth, and the corpses in her dreams, they were all just phantoms of a past life, having nothing to do with her, Gu Er.
…
Lingyun Sect dominated Cangheng Mountain in the Northern Sea. Cangheng Mountain was primarily composed of seven peaks: Chuyun Peak, Qingyu Peak, Tianling Peak, Bishui Peak, Chenming Peak, Chiyang Peak, and Lingxiao Peak, where the Sect Master resided.
Newly admitted disciples would choose the path of cultivation best suited to their aptitudes.
So, on the second day, Gu Er and the others changed into their sect robes and were led by the senior brothers to the Welcome Hall of Lingyun Sect.
The moment Gu Er saw the color of these sect robes, she fell into a brief silence. From elementary school through high school, she’d worn blue-and-white uniforms. She never imagined that after transmigrating, she’d still be in blue uniforms, only the shade was different.
Seated in the hall were six elders, the peak-mastering elders of each peak.
The youngest elder spoke first, his voice clear and pleasant: “From this day forward, you are all inner disciples of Lingyun Sect. We have summoned you here today so that you may choose the direction of your future cultivation.”
After a brief silence, a voice finally came from the head of the hall.
“Yan Mingchuan, Zhong Daochen.”
“Disciple present.” The two figures stepped forward swiftly, answering in unison.
“I am Fang Zhiran, the Chengying Immortal Venerable of Chuyun Peak of Lingyun Sect. Are the two of you willing to take me as your master?”
Fang Zhiran, elder of Chuyun Peak, was at the early Nascent Soul stage, having entered the Dao through swordsmanship, and was known as the “Chengying Immortal Venerable.”
Though his conduct was somewhat erratic and unreliable, his mastery of the sword was unparalleled. A single draw of his blade could sever all things, making him one of the most sought-after masters among sword cultivators in the cultivation world.
“Disciple is willing!” Zhong Daochen spoke first, his eyes gleaming with excitement, unable to contain his fervor, his voice unconsciously rising several octaves.
“Good, good. Yan Mingchuan, what say you?” Fang Zhiran said with a smile, turning his gaze to Yan Mingchuan.
“To answer the Immortal Venerable, I am deeply honored by your favor, but I have set my heart on joining the Lingxiao Peak.” Yan Mingchuan replied with a respectful bow, his demeanor reverent.
Lingxiao Peak was the residence of Sect Master Xie Zhi, known as the “Lingxu Sword Venerable,” at the late Tribulation stage, the “number one sword cultivator” in the cultivation world. He had only two disciples under him, and three hundred years ago, he was gravely wounded by a treacherous disciple, after which he had secluded himself and never emerged.
“Who in the entire cultivation world doesn’t know that the Lingxu Sword Venerable will only ever accept two disciples in his lifetime? My swordsmanship is no worse than my senior brother’s, why won’t you take me as your master?” Fang Zhiran asked with a slight frown.
“I wish to study under Qingheng Immortal Lord. The Immortal Lord and I both possess mutated dual spiritual roots. I have heard that Qingheng Immortal Lord has yet to accept any disciples.” Yan Mingchuan answered calmly, neither humble nor overbearing.
Qingheng Immortal Lord, Mu Ci, had reached the late Nascent Soul stage at just four hundred and twenty years old. As the chief disciple of Lingyun Sect, he was also the heir to the Sect Master position.
With his aptitude, he should have been able to claim a peak and become its master at the Mahayana stage.
However, over the past few centuries, he had been traveling abroad. During the previous disciple-recruitment ceremonies, he had sent word several times, declining each time.
“Qingheng Immortal Lord is still traveling and has not returned, and he currently has no intention of taking disciples. You should just join my Chuyun Peak.” Fang Zhiran advised earnestly.
Yan Mingchuan wanted to press further, but seeing that Fang Zhiran was already showing displeasure, he had no choice but to relent, bowing in salute: “Yan Mingchuan pays respects to Master.”
The other elders of Lingyun Sect spoke up one after another to offer their congratulations.
Yan Mingchuan and Zhong Daochen obediently took their places behind Fang Zhiran.
Next, Ye Qingyue, elder of Tianling Peak, stepped forward with graceful, swaying steps: “Since all you seniors already have so many disciples, let this junior choose first.”
Ye Qingyue, at the early Mahayana stage, was known as the “Dan Yun Immortal Maiden.” Young as she was, she had already mastered the essence of the alchemical Dao.
Alchemists held a unique status in the cultivation world, and Ye Qingyue was the foremost among them, the pills she refined were worth more than gold and nearly impossible to obtain.
She waved her hand lightly, her jade-like fingers moving with grace, and the jade token on the tray floated over to Zhong Daoxue.
“Zhong Daoxue.” Ye Qingyue’s voice was soft.
“Disciple is here!” Zhong Daoxue replied crisply.
Gu Er instinctively glanced toward Zhong Daoxue, seeing the young girl in a blue-and-white sect robe, her lively eyes shining brilliantly at that moment.
“Would you be willing to have me as your master, become my personal disciple, and study the art of alchemy with me?” Ye Qingyue’s brows curved like crescent moons, her gaze filled with admiration for Zhong Daoxue.
“Disciple is willing!” Zhong Daoxue’s eyes brimmed with joy, answering without a moment’s hesitation.
“Zhao Yao, would you be willing to take me as your master?” Ye Qingyue then turned her gaze to Zhao Yao, her eyes still carrying expectation.
“Disciple wishes to go to Bishui Peak.” Zhao Yao’s expression was open and candid, her gaze calm and unruffled.
Seeing that the disciple she valued so highly had not chosen her, Ye Qingyue felt a pang of disappointment. Her brows furrowed slightly, forming a faint crease: “A fire spiritual root is most suited for alchemy, and alchemists hold an esteemed position in the cultivation world. Moreover, I am the foremost alchemist in the cultivation world. Why would you not wish to join my Tianling Peak?” Her voice carried a hint of confusion, along with a trace of regret.
“Disciple’s aspiration does not lie in alchemy. Rather, I prefer to learn spells and techniques.”
“In that case, Zhao Yao shall take me as her master.” Bai He spoke calmly.
Elder Bai He of Bishui Peak, at the mid-Dacheng stage, cultivated both talismans and spells, known as the “Long Talisman Fairy.” Her spirit talismans were unmatched by any. As a talisman master renowned throughout the cultivation world, her wealth naturally ranked among the top of the cultivation world’s rich list.
She was somewhat pleased to accept a disciple like Zhao Yao, but she did not show it, for Elder Ye was notoriously stingy. If she laughed aloud, the other might find some excuse to withhold Bishui Peak’s pills.
That the disciple she had her eye on was unwilling to follow her left Ye Qingyue deeply disheartened. She sighed softly, unable to force the matter. After confirming Zhao Yao’s choice several times, she finally gave up and waved her hand: “Very well, very well. Go then. If you ever wish to learn alchemy in the future, Tianling Peak will always welcome you.”
“Finally, it’s my turn to choose a disciple.” Elder Jiang Luowen of Qingyu Peak strolled out slowly, fanning himself.
Jiang Luowen, at the late Dacheng stage, was known as the “Array Immortal Lord,” a famed array cultivator in the formation world.
At this moment, a hint of leisure on his face, he walked up to Gu Er and spoke: “Little Gu Er, would you be willing to take me as your master? I am the Array Immortal Lord.” As he spoke, he gently closed his fan and tapped it against his palm, producing a crisp sound.
“Disciple also wishes to go to Bishui Peak, to learn talisman drawing and spells.” Gu Er said with a hint of shyness, lowering her head slightly.
“Ah, you little girl, what’s so good about Bishui Peak? One after another, you’re all rushing there,” Jiang Luowen said, somewhat displeased. He reopened his fan and waved it rapidly, as if trying to dispel the discontent in his heart.
“I think…” Gu Er began to explain.
Just then, the doors of the great hall slowly opened, and a figure stepped in. With each step he took, countless fine specks of light seemed to scatter through the air, carrying an almost sacred aura.
Looking up, his silhouette seemed to shine in unison with the sun and moon, indistinguishable from them.