“Xiao Mu?” Fang Zhiran’s eyes widened slightly in surprise after seeing who had arrived.
“Little Martial Uncle.” Mu Ci gave a slight nod, then walked steadily to a stop in front of Gu Er.
“Senior Martial Brother, why have you come?” Ye Qingyue asked, her face full of confusion. Ye Qingyue was a true disciple of the late former peak master of Tianling Peak, and a fellow junior martial sister to Mu Ci.
“Junior Martial Sister Ye, I’ve come to take on a disciple.” Mu Ci first greeted Ye Qingyue, then took out a jade token from his storage pouch, pure white throughout, with faint golden runes flowing along its edges, and handed it to Gu Er. “I’ve come on my master’s behalf to accept a disciple.”
His hands were long and fair-skinned, fingertips tinged with a faint pink, appearing even more lustrous and translucent against the backdrop of the jade token.
Gu Er’s gaze was instantly and firmly drawn to the hands extended before her, her eyes going completely wide. She had a little-known quirk, she was a hand person, utterly defenseless against hands with well-defined knuckles and elegant lines.
At this moment, the hands before her had struck her heart with pinpoint precision.
“You should have taken on a disciple long ago. Go ahead and pick a good peak, you can choose any disciple here. I can…” Fang Zhiran said with great enthusiasm, but stopped mid-sentence as if suddenly realizing something, his expression freezing. “Wait. On your master’s behalf to accept a disciple? Not you taking a disciple? Your master hasn’t accepted disciples in years. Stop joking around.”
“I carry my master’s orders to accept the one hundred and twenty-sixth generation disciple of Lingyun.” Mu Ci’s expression was calm, his eyes carrying a composure beyond his years, with a hint of cool detachment added on top.
The great hall fell into sudden silence. The several elders exchanged glances, all equally startled and uncertain. Sect Master Xie Zhi had been in seclusion for years, long since removed from worldly affairs, let alone suddenly taking on a disciple.
When the system heard this, it exploded in Gu Er’s mind: [Host, it’s Lingxiao Peak! Did you hear that? The Void Sword Venerable wants to take you as his disciple, you’ll be Mu Ci’s junior martial sister from now on!]
“Thank you for your esteemed favor, Immortal Lord, but I still wish to study talisman drawing under Master Bai.” Gu Er snapped back to attention, forcibly tearing her gaze away from those hands, deliberately emphasizing the word “Master” to make it clear to Mu Ci that she had already taken a master.
“I also understand talisman drawing and can teach you. Lingxiao Peak is tranquil with abundant spiritual energy, an excellent place for cultivation.” Mu Ci spoke unhurriedly, attempting to persuade Gu Er.
“Thank you, Immortal Lord, but this disciple is naturally fond of lively places. Bishui Peak suits me better.” A bad feeling rose in Gu Er’s heart. She wasn’t going to Lingxiao Peak, no way. He’d been following her since the inn at the very beginning, and now that she was at Lingyun Sect, he still wouldn’t leave her alone. Who knew what scheme he was cooking up.
Could it be that the original body was acquainted with him?
Seeing this, Bai He quickly stepped in to mediate: “Mu Ci, since Gu Er is unwilling, don’t force her. It’s not as if I would mistreat her here at Bishui Peak.”
“Yes, Senior Martial Brother, I’m perfectly fine at Bishui Peak.” Gu Er quickly chimed in, and as she spoke, she stole a few glances at Mu Ci, inadvertently catching sight of some purple stains on the hem of his robes, like the juice of some kind of flower. A flicker of doubt rose in her mind.
“Enough arguing. It’s not like she’s the only promising seedling with a thunder spiritual root.” Fang Zhiran quickly interjected to mediate. “I’ll reluctantly part with someone dear, how about I give you Yan Mingchuan? He has the same dual ice-water spiritual roots as you, and the boy has been pestering to become your disciple.”
“No need.” Mu Ci cut him off. He didn’t retract the token, but the fingertips gripping it tightened almost imperceptibly. “I am merely here on my master’s orders to accept a disciple. I have no intention of taking one myself.”
He paused, then turned his ice-silk gaze toward Gu Er. Though his eyes were clearly sightless, they still made Gu Er feel an invisible pressure. “Gu Er, do you truly refuse to join the Lingxiao Peak?”
Just as she was thinking of how to firmly refuse again, 0086’s voice suddenly turned urgent in her mind: [Warning! Detected slight resonance between residual demonic energy and an unknown soul force within the host’s body, currently in an unstable state. It is strongly recommended that the host choose an environment with purer spiritual energy and close protection from a high-level cultivator. According to data analysis, Lingxiao Peak matches these conditions with a probability of 89%!]
Gu Er’s breath caught. Demonic energy resonance? What was that?
Mu Ci seemed to sense her momentary panic and wavering. He spoke again, his voice softening slightly, carrying a hint of persuasion: “At the back mountain of Lingxiao Peak, there is a ‘Heart-Calming Pool’ that is remarkably effective for cleansing distracting thoughts and stabilizing the soul. You have just begun your path of cultivation, a solid foundation is of utmost importance.”
Upon hearing this, Bai He gave Gu Er a thoughtful look, especially at the faint red scar on her left cheek.
As an alchemy cultivator with keen perception, she had already noticed a slight abnormality in the girl’s aura earlier. Now, hearing Mu Ci mention “stabilizing the soul,” she understood somewhat. It seemed that Mu Ci’s insistence on taking this disciple might have deeper meaning… or perhaps… she really had returned.
She let out a soft sigh, her attitude shifting subtly as she spoke gently to Gu Er, “Gu Er, what Senior Brother Mu said does hold some truth. The ‘Heart-Calming Pool’ on Lingxiao Peak is indeed a treasure of our sect, and it may truly benefit your current condition. Moreover…”
She paused, casting a meaningful glance at Mu Ci, “Immortal Lord Mu Ci personally instructing you is an opportunity countless disciples would dream of. Since you are already a disciple of Lingyun Sect, regardless of which peak you belong to, we are all of the same origin. Why not… consider it a bit more?”
Gu Er bit her lower lip, her heart locked in fierce internal conflict. The system’s warnings, Mu Ci’s seemingly calm yet relentless persistence, and that damned hidden danger of demonic energy… She was utterly alone, with no cards left to play.
[Host, take the gamble.] 0086’s voice carried a rare seriousness. [If you stay on Bishui Peak, we can’t solve the demonic energy problem. If you go to Lingxiao Peak, at least Mu Ci is currently the one most likely to help you control it.]
After a long moment, Gu Er finally extended her hand, slowly, with twelve parts reluctance. Her fingertips touched the warm jade token, and also brushed against Mu Ci’s slightly cool fingertips.
She snatched her hand back as if scalded, only tightly clutching the token, head lowered, voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz: “This disciple… Gu Er, thanks the Immortal Lord… thanks Master for taking me in.”
Beneath the ice-silk covering his eyes, unseen by any, he let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, and the corner of his lips, which had been tightly pressed, seemed to ease ever so briefly. “Mm.”
He acknowledged with a single syllable, withdrew his hand, and turned to the elders: “The choice is made. Mu Ci takes his leave.” With that, he said to Gu Er, “Follow me.”
Like one being led to the execution ground, Gu Er dejectedly shuffled behind Mu Ci, not even having time to properly bid farewell to Zhong Daoxue and Zhao Yao, who looked on with concern, only casting them a hurried “take care” glance.
Fang Zhiran watched the figure of Mu Ci leaving with the blue-robed girl, scratched his head, and muttered quietly, “When did the Sect Master issue such an order? How strange…”
Bai He gazed toward the hall entrance, gently shaking her head, a flicker of worry passing through her eyes. Obsession was hard to sever; she could only hope that Mu Ci’s choice was the right one.
Stepping out of the Reception Hall, Mu Ci did not summon his flying sword, but instead walked slowly along a stone path shrouded in swirling mist.
Gu Er followed a step behind him, staring at his immaculate white robes and the few unsightly purple stains on the hem, her emotions tangled to the extreme.
Whether the road ahead held fortune or disaster, she had no idea at all.
…
Following Mu Ci, after stepping through an invisible barrier hidden within the clouds and mist, the scene before her suddenly opened up, and Gu Er couldn’t help but freeze in place.
Lingxiao Peak, true to its name, towered into the clouds, its cliffs steep as if piercing the heavens, the tallest peak of Cangxian Mountain.
She had assumed that where the Sect Master resided would surely be a place of immortal aura, a secluded cultivation retreat for a transcendent being. After all, whenever she saw Mu Ci on ordinary days, he exuded an ethereal, otherworldly air.
But the sight before her was utterly different from what she had imagined.
There were no grand halls, no solemn cultivation grounds. What met her eyes was instead an endless expanse of blazing peach blossom forest. In the height of bloom, pink clouds spread like rosy haze, stretching far and wide. As a gentle breeze passed, petals fell in a soft rustle, their fragrance wafting through the air.
Several quaint, vermilion-roofed cottages with sloping eaves were scattered deep within the peach grove, small unassuming copper bells hanging from their eaves. Before and behind the houses, there were no spiritual herbs or immortal blossoms, but rather neatly tended beds of hydrangeas, in full bloom, clusters of blue, purple, pink, and white, blooming somewhat gaudily amidst the immortal mountain’s mist, yet strangely brimming with vitality.
Not far away, beside a clear, bottomless pool of living water, a simple bamboo waterwheel turned slowly, emitting a steady, peaceful creak. Further off, beneath an old peach tree, hung a simple swing, its wooden board worn smooth from use.
This place… was more like the dwelling of a refined recluse living in pastoral seclusion, filled with a vibrant and warm atmosphere, utterly at odds with the perpetual cold aloofness that surrounded Mu Ci.
Before the surprise in Gu Er’s heart had even faded, Mu Ci had already led her through the peach grove path and stopped before a standalone cottage. The cottage was enclosed by a fence of green bamboo, and tender moss sprouted from the cracks between the stone slabs of the front path.
“You will stay here.” Mu Ci pushed open the half-closed bamboo door.
The interior furnishings were completely different from an ascetic cultivation setting, greeting her with a languid sense of comfort.
The most eye-catching feature was a wide bed by the window, piled with a thick quilt and several soft bolster pillows in gentle shades of light apricot and misty blue. Beside it sat an elegantly shaped rattan rocking chair, a soft woven blanket draped over its armrest.
The low tea table was not empty. Beside a set of tea ware with a warm glaze and simple orchid brushstrokes lay several well-thumbed volumes of casual reading notes.
On the curio shelf against the wall, a row of adorable clay animal figurines sat side by side, a few uniquely veined Yuhua stones rested in a shallow dish, and there was even a potted plant with thick, fleshy leaves, not a common sight in the cultivation world, growing glossy and thriving under the nourishment of spiritual energy.
The room was immaculately clean, every item placed exactly where it would be most convenient, clearly tended to with care over the years. On the windowsill sat a plain white porcelain vase, casually holding a few sprigs of peach blossoms still bearing dew. This was not the dwelling of an ascetic, but rather the cozy nest some idle soul with a deep appreciation for life’s pleasures had crafted for themselves.
Gu Er stepped across the threshold, but her footsteps suddenly halted. An inexplicable sense of familiarity washed over her.
Her gaze unconsciously swept across every corner of the room. There seemed to be an inconspicuous old scratch on the corner of the bed, and she could even sense that if she pushed open the back window, she would see which peach tree’s most flourishing branch.
“This place…” she murmured to herself without realizing it.
Mu Ci, walking ahead, heard her and turned slightly. “What is it?”
Gu Er snapped back to attention, suppressing the storm of shock in her heart, and forced a smile. “N-nothing. I just think… it’s very peaceful here. Very nice.”
She paused, then asked, “S-senior br-brother… Mu Ci” she still stumbled slightly over the title, “when should I go pay respects to Master?”
Mu Ci was silent for a moment, his voice betraying no emotion. “Master is in seclusion and sees no outsiders. Settle in here comfortably; there’s no need to stand on ceremony.” He paused, then added, “If you have any questions about cultivation, you may come to me.”
The implication was clear: this “Master” was merely a title, and the one who would actually teach her was still Mu Ci.
Gu Er’s suspicions deepened, but she could only nod. “Yes, thank you, senior brother.”
Mu Ci said no more, only remarking, “If you lack any supplies, you may go to the Affairs Hall at the mountainside to collect them, or let me know.” With that, he turned to leave.
“Senior brother!” Gu Er suddenly called out to him, her fingers unconsciously curling as she pointed toward the brilliant peach grove outside the window and the warm pastoral scenery beyond, her tone carrying barely concealed curiosity. “Did you… arrange all of this?”
This truly did not seem like the handiwork of the “Qingheng Immortal Lord” of legend, cold, taciturn, whose single sword strike could pierce the light of dawn.
Mu Ci halted his steps, his back to her, his figure appearing somewhat hazy against the backdrop of swirling peach blossoms. After a moment, he spoke, his voice lower than usual, as if steeped in the mountain’s peach blossoms, yet carrying a distant loneliness:
“No.” He paused. “It was what a certain old acquaintance loved, many years ago.”
With that, he did not linger. His snow-white figure quickly vanished into the depths of the blazing flower shadows, leaving only the crisp fragrance of tea, interwoven with the sweet scent of peach blossoms, lingering long after.
Gu Er stood alone in the silent room, gazing at the peach blossoms dancing wildly outside the window, then lowered her head to look at her own palm, where the faint coolness of his fingertips from when she touched the jade token seemed to still linger.
An old acquaintance?
This mountain peak should only have Gu Wan, Mu Ci, and the sect master Xie Zhi. Who could it be that would make someone like Mu Ci maintain an immortal peak in the exact form another person loved, for centuries on end?
Could it be Gu Wan? But wasn’t Gu Wan slain by Mu Ci’s own hand?
And why did this room feel so familiar to her?
She slowly walked to the window, reached out, and gently brushed her fingertips across the cold window frame. Outside, the swing hung silently in the breeze, as if waiting for a figure that had long since failed to return.
A nameless ache, without warning, welled up in her heart.