Jinshu knew there was no way to avoid this any longer. She could only offer a graceful bow to Li Xingdao and say, “I was young and impulsive. My previous letter contained many offensive remarks. I don’t expect us to laugh off our grievances, but I still wish to apologize to you first.”
Li Xingdao hadn’t expected the person who wrote that letter full of humiliating words to apologize to him. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat surprised, suspecting she was putting on a show in front of their elders. So, he merely nodded in response.
The onlookers scattered to the sides, leaving only the two youths standing in the center of the Training Ground.
At the sound of the command, Li Xingdao, his expression unchanged, drew his longsword and took the initiative to attack.
He moved with agility, holding the Black Iron Sword that seemed to have no advantage other than its weight. But Ji Jinshu knew that this sword was Long Aotian’s first golden finger—it contained a Sword Spirit, though its Spiritual Power was sealed within, like a bottomless ancient well. It appeared ordinary but was actually immensely powerful.
Jinshu was using an ordinary longsword, which couldn’t compare to the Black Iron Sword at all. Deflecting the first few moves was relatively easy, but as the fight progressed, she gradually found it harder to hold her ground.
“What’s wrong with Senior Sister Ji? This isn’t her usual style.”
“I remember her sword techniques are usually aggressive and unyielding. Is she going easy on him?”
The crowd began to murmur, but Jinshu wasn’t unwilling to win—it was just that she wasn’t yet proficient with her sword techniques. Even when she used them, they felt clumsy and unfamiliar.
After awkwardly dodging another sudden burst of sword energy, Jinshu took two steps back, gritted her teeth, channeled her Spiritual Power, and pushed off the ground with her foot. Her body soared lightly into the air, putting a considerable distance between herself and Li Xingdao.
Under Xuanqing Zhenren’s increasingly displeased gaze, Jinshu reluctantly raised her sword and thrust it toward Li Xingdao in a disorderly manner. But Li Xingdao merely gave a light flick of his wrist, and half of Jinshu’s longsword was sliced off. Her palm stung with pain, and the broken sword slipped from her grip. A fierce surge of sword energy shot straight toward her face.
The sharp clang of the sword was terrifying, and the wind it stirred up howled like knives slapping against her body. It’s over, Jinshu thought, instinctively squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath.
Gasps erupted from the surroundings. Jinshu felt her heart pounding wildly, but the expected pain never came. She cautiously opened one eye.
Before her, the astonished youth and the menacing Black Iron Sword were no more than a finger’s breadth away, the fierce sword intent still lingering in the air.
However, it wasn’t Li Xingdao or Xuanqing Zhenren who had stopped the sword from descending. A translucent longsword, shimmering with Spiritual Power, was now positioned horizontally in front of her, blocking the Black Iron Sword. It was Banyu, the sword Jinshu always carried with her.
Xuanqing, who had been observing the match, furrowed his brow before a look of delight spread across his face.
This sword, named Banyu, was a renowned Spiritual Artifact capable of changing its form according to its master’s will. Unfortunately, although the original owner had obtained it in childhood, she had never gained its recognition. Thus, Banyu had always appeared as a sword and, though carried daily, had almost never left its sheath.
Its unsheathing now—whether it sensed its master’s danger or for some other reason—was unknown.
A drop of sweat trickled from Jinshu’s temple onto Banyu’s azure blade. Intricate and delicate patterns were etched into its surface, emanating a faint chill. Embedded with many dazzling gemstones, it looked less like a weapon and more like a tool for a dancer’s sword performance.
Xuanqing Zhenren clapped his hands and couldn’t help but offer guidance, “Excellent! Today this sword has truly shown its marvel, finally ready to acknowledge you as its master.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Banyu swiftly flew into its owner’s hand. Jinshu, sharing a mental connection with it, felt a surge of spiritual energy course through her entire body the moment she grasped the hilt, smoothing out a lingering stagnation of energy within her.
Li Xingdao naturally did not let his guard down, his face filled with vigilance and not a hint of relaxation. He raised the Black Iron Sword just in time to block the incoming attack.
In an instant, the girl who had previously been at a disadvantage instead used the momentum to leap gracefully upward, soaring into the air. With a flick of her wrist, she executed a sword flourish, and Banyu, like a streak of flowing light, attacked with even greater precision.
Li Xingdao swung his sword, and as the two blades clashed, it was he who staggered slightly, swaying for a couple of steps.
Sword rays crisscrossed and intertwined like a sudden storm, leaving the onlookers holding their breath.
The two fought back and forth, with the girl now shifting from defense to offense. Her long sword spun behind her in unpredictable movements, while her other hand gathered Internal Energy and thrust forward, sending Li Xingdao flying a full zhang away.
The outcome was decided.
Li Xingdao’s face turned ashen. Seeing him like this, Jinshu couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy and said, “If not for my Spiritual Artifact suddenly acknowledging me as its master, you might have won.”
He didn’t respond, only staring intently at his own sword—a dark, unremarkable blade—as if searching for something unseen.
Jinshu added by way of explanation, “I didn’t mean that as a provocation, only to advise you not to underestimate yourself.”
As the sun set in the west, the brilliant evening glow painted half of the Training Ground, casting a golden light on the girl’s fluttering skirt and delicate cheeks.
Xuanqing Zhenren no longer wore his earlier stern expression. Satisfied, he said, “Well done.”
But then his tone shifted, “However, punishment cannot be avoided. Your actions require proper discipline to teach you a lesson. You shall be confined to the Rear Mountain for a week.”
Jinshu sighed. This punishment was already much better than expected. After all, the original host had not only written the letter but also lost the duel, resulting in a punishment lasting over half a year.
“Young man, with your extraordinary bone structure and exceptional talent, would you be interested in becoming my disciple?”
The speaker, who had arrived unnoticed at some point, held a wine gourd, his face ruddy and adorned with a long white beard. He appeared somewhat unkempt, resembling a land deity from a television drama. He grinned as he scrutinized Li Xingdao with undisguised curiosity. This was none other than Huai Shan, the master the male protagonist in the original story would later take after entering the Sect, ranked fourth among the elders.
Huai Shan casually patted Li Xingdao’s shoulder as if they were brothers, finally drawing Li Xingdao’s gaze away from his sword.
Jinshu had no interest in the aftermath. She simply hung her head and obediently made her way toward the Rear Mountain.
Just seven days—perhaps, like in martial arts novels, she might encounter a reclusive master in the Rear Mountain who would impart all his skills to her. Jinshu clenched her fist, and as she thought about it, she couldn’t help but chuckle.
The environment in the Rear Mountain was neither particularly bad nor particularly good. A few disciples guarded the only path leading out, but Jinshu had no intention of escaping and dutifully entered.
The Rear Mountain was desolate and devoid of human presence. Jinshu leaned lazily against a wall, dozing off until late at night, when a few faint meows suddenly woke her from her light sleep.
As for why she slept so lightly, there was a reason. As a girl living in modern times, she had never imagined she would experience transmigration.
Although she had truly become “Ji Jinshu” two days ago and seemed to adapt well on the surface, deep down she had been anxiously pondering a question.
I have taken over the original body, but where has the original owner gone?
Now alone in confinement on Rear Mountain, with the night deep and quiet, this question slowly surfaced like bubbles rising from a fish’s mouth, unsettling her heart. Feeling somewhat distressed, she kicked a pebble beside her foot.
Jinshu stared at her slender yet still fleshy wrist. Just the thought that this was not her own body sent a chill rising from the depths of her being.
The lightness and joy she felt from having a healthy body were built upon her unconscious “seizure” of another girl’s body. A sense of eerie, indescribable fear welled up within her.
Lost in thought, something furry and warm brushed against her thigh. Jinshu looked down to see a small tortoiseshell cat lazily stretching beside her. Noticing her gaze, it let out pitiful, mewling cries.
Earlier, the cat’s cries had been so faint that Jinshu thought she was hearing things. Now, seeing such a tiny cat nestling beside her, she couldn’t help but feel overjoyed and wanted to pick it up.
But the tortoiseshell cat meowed while dodging her and darted away into the distance. Jinshu quickly stood up and chased after it.
The moonlight was bright but not enough to illuminate the ground beneath Jinshu’s feet. The small tortoiseshell cat darted swiftly ahead. Jinshu saw a shimmering lake ahead, reflecting the moonlight, but she couldn’t stop in time. Tripping, she tumbled straight into the water.
The icy cold water soaked her entirely. Jinshu’s mind went blank as she held her breath and flailed her arms wildly. She was a landlubber with no experience in water whatsoever.
Through the mirror-like surface of the water, the hazy night scene reflected above, and a pair of eyes, no less brilliant than stars, suddenly appeared. An arm wrapped around Jinshu’s waist, pulling her upward toward the surface.
Jinshu lay sprawled on the shore, coughing violently several times. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, and water trickled down the sides of her face. Her damp eyelashes trembled slightly, stinging her eyes with discomfort.
The tortoiseshell cat, aware of its mistake, nestled close to her, rubbing its head against her wet clothes as if seeking forgiveness.
Jinshu propped herself up with her hands on the ground, her gaze vacant. It took a while before she finally caught her breath.
“Are you alright?”
“No, I’m not,” Jinshu replied with a dejected expression.
She turned around to see the young man who had rescued her sitting beside her. Though drenched from head to toe, he resembled a water nymph or a celestial being under the moonlight. His face was pale, and his dark hair clung to his cheeks, accentuating his handsome features and ethereal demeanor. Though he carried a heavy air of illness, it seemed to add a finishing touch, evoking an unconscious sense of pity for this delicate beauty.
Startled by his frail appearance, Jinshu couldn’t help but ask, “How are you? Why is your face so pale? Should I take you down the mountain to see a physician?”
The young man smiled gently, the corners of his eyes crinkling into small dimples. He replied softly, “Little Senior Sister, there’s no need to worry about me.”
Jinshu was taken aback. Seeing her expression, the youth spoke again, “Little Senior Sister, don’t you recognize me?”
His voice was clear and bright. Jinshu stared at his handsome face, lost in thought, until he gently reminded her, “Senior Sister, you must have forgotten you have a junior brother.”
“Ah!” Jinshu smacked her forehead.
Chen Fuzhou—the fourth junior brother from the same master, who had no role in the original story, spent years in seclusion, and was her fellow disciple.
No wonder she had encountered this youth at Rear Mountain. Since entering the sect, he had been in seclusion here for years.
Jinshu observed him curiously. He held a tortoiseshell cat in his arms, feeding it vegetable leaves he had gotten from somewhere, bringing them close to the cat’s mouth.
“What cat eats vegetable leaves?” Jinshu couldn’t help but ask, only to see the cat swallow the leaves in a few bites, utterly disregarding her opinion.
“See,” the youth said lazily, “this cat is different from others. It doesn’t like meat but prefers vegetables.”
Jinshu asked curiously, “You seem quite familiar with it.”
The youth replied leisurely, “I’ve been feeding its mother for a long time. But lately, I haven’t been around much, and I don’t know where the mother cat went. Only this little one is left, and it’s just as picky as its mother.”
He spoke these complaining words with a serious tone, yet there was no trace of disdain in his voice.
Jinshu felt a spark of interest in chatting. “You and this cat have something in common.”
“Hmm?”
“Unlike others, you don’t rush to change your clothes after falling into the water. Instead, you still have the mood to feed a cat.” Jinshu raised her hand and plucked a leaf that had somehow gotten tangled in his hair.
Chen Fuzhou was momentarily stunned. The two were extremely close, and her smiling eyes gazed down at him. The vast expanse of stars behind her paled in comparison to the brilliance in her eyes.