Yuntian Immortal Sect, Cangyue Peak.
The entire mountain seemed blanketed in snow. Clouds and mist swirled around it, dense as spilled ink; looking up, one could discern only fragments of the mountain’s outline through the haze, never its entirety. It resembled an immortal’s dwelling and inspired reverence without reason.
At the summit of Cangyue Peak lay a frigid pool.
A figure sat motionless within it, surrounded by water cold enough to pierce the bones. He seemed entirely unaware of the chill, as though he had become one with it.
Mist rose all around. Through its veil one could faintly distinguish an extraordinarily handsome man. His snow-white hair flowed freely like a waterfall over his shoulders, trailing into the pool along with his submerged body.
The thick mist dispersed.
His face seemed carved from jade, exquisitely beautiful, his brows carrying an otherworldly air. His eyes were closed, making one long to discover their color.
As though sensing something, he opened them. A cold gleam flashed through their unfathomable depths. In the next instant, he vanished, leaving only ripples on the pool and the slowly dissipating mist.
At the same time, someone hurried into the territory of Cangyue Peak, calling, “Shidi—!”
Before he could finish, the man appeared before him with astonishing speed.
“What is it?”
His voice was calm, without the slightest inflection.
The newcomer recoiled from the cold emanating from him. Instead of answering, he asked, “You’ve gone to the cold pool again?”
The man did not care to reply. In the blink of an eye, the two traveled from the foot of the mountain to its summit, stopping before a long pavilion built of ice and snow.
“Cangyue Peak is freezing all year round. Not even a blade of grass can grow here. I truly don’t know how you bear living in this place.”
The speaker had swordlike brows and bright eyes, and cut a striking, elegant figure. His dark robes were embroidered with golden cloud patterns, lending him an imposing dignity. Yet before the other man, that commanding air faded considerably.
He seated himself first, picked up a black game stone, and dropped it casually onto the board. Only then did he continue, “Your place is about the only place where I can enjoy a moment’s peace.”
The other man sat opposite him. “What brings you here this time?”
“The spiritual beast raised by our little Shimei ruined more than half the spiritual herbs in someone’s medicinal garden. The elder didn’t dare confront her, so he came crying to me instead.”
“As Sect Master, those with ability must shoulder more work.”
The dark-robed man was none other than Xuanyunzi, Sect Master of Yuntian Immortal Sect—the Eastern Region’s foremost power. He was at the early stage of Tribulation Transcendence and was also known as Daojun Xuanyun.
“I ordered little Shimei to pay compensation and confined her to her quarters as well. She can come out once she’s properly trained that three-eyed spiritual beast of hers.”
Xuanyunzi placed another stone and continued, “Who would have thought Second Shidi would come make a fuss? Little Shimei herself didn’t complain, but he insisted I lift her punishment.”
He nagged Xuanyunzi every day. Fortunately, cultivators did not lose their hair from worry; otherwise, Xuanyunzi would long since have gone bald.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“If you know how hard I’ve worked, then at least give me two stones! That move doesn’t count. Again, again!”
The man looked at his shameless behavior as though long accustomed to it.
“What difference would giving you three stones make?”
The unspoken meaning was clear: even then, you still wouldn’t win.
Xuanyunzi simply stopped playing. The outcome had already been decided. It happened every time; he knew he could not win, yet kept returning to suffer another defeat.
“Little Shidi, your Cangyue Peak is so deserted that you don’t even have a gate attendant. How about I send you a few promising seedlings?”
“So that’s the true purpose of Shixiong’s visit?”
“What choice do I have? Those old fellows question me about you every day. You’re a Zunzhe without a single disciple. Countless people are desperate to catch your eye.”
The man opposite Xuanyunzi was precisely Xuanling Zunzhe, whom Lin Chen had heard mentioned in passing at the restaurant—the only Mahayana cultivator in the entire Qianyuan Great World.
“Tell them to abandon the idea.”
“Shidi, do you truly have no intention of accepting a disciple?”
For three hundred years, his Shidi had been like a snow-covered pine rooted to Cangyue Peak. Apart from Xuanyunzi himself, scarcely anyone dared enter this forbidden territory.
The peak’s desolation was largely of Xuanling Zunzhe’s own making. If he announced that he wished to take a disciple, he could choose freely from the Eastern Region—or indeed the whole Qianyuan Great World.
“I already have someone in mind. In a few days, I can bring that person for you to see.”
This time, Xuanyunzi was genuinely astonished. His Shidi had exceptionally high standards. Anything capable of catching his attention was either an exceedingly rare spiritual treasure or a person of extraordinary genius.
Had some prodigy appeared in the cultivation world without his knowing?
“Excellent! At last my little Shidi won’t be all alone.”
Xuanling Zunzhe raised his eyes toward him. Xuanyunzi suddenly felt the very air congeal, the cold making him shiver.
“Shixiong misspoke and deserves punishment. May I ask where this person is now?”
“You’ll know when the time comes.”
Xuanling Zunzhe’s gaze was icy; his intention to dismiss his visitor could not have been clearer.
Xuanyunzi had stolen half a moment’s leisure, but did not dare remain and provoke his Shidi. Besides, he wanted to return and calculate just who this remarkable person could be, to have awakened his Shidi’s interest.
He had come in haste and left in haste.
Xuanling Zunzhe paid him little mind. With a light touch of his fingertip, an image surfaced upon the chessboard: a young, tender face. One sweep of his sleeve, and it disappeared again.
Besides the Liuyin Guqin, Lin Chen had spent another fifty low-grade spirit stones on a considerable quantity of low-level Spirit-Gathering Talismans and medicinal pills. He now had only fifty low-grade spirit stones left to his name.
At this rate, the sect’s allowance would be nowhere near enough. After considering the matter carefully, Lin Chen concluded that he would have to find a way to earn money himself.
The scorebook the steward had given him began with elementary instruction, but its archaic writing was obscure and difficult. A single character could be interpreted in several different ways, leaving Lin Chen with a headache. Farther on, he encountered musical notation he had never seen before, much less understood.
Fortunately, Dabai could translate it. With its help, Lin Chen finally began to grasp a little of the material.
After several days of practice, he could just about produce a recognizable melody, although it could hardly be called pleasant. With the assistance of Spirit-Gathering Talismans, his cultivation had also successfully advanced beyond the first level of Qi Refining. Apart from the increased abundance of spiritual energy in his dantian, however, he noticed no other change.
“Lin Chen, are you inside?”
Someone knocked at his door. Judging by the voice, the visitor was around his own age.
Lin Chen opened the door. Outside stood a dark-skinned boy who, despite the bitter winter cold, wore only two thin layers of clothing. Dust clung to his hems. His hands were cracked from the cold, and black mud was lodged beneath his fingernails.
Lin Chen had worked the fields during winter back in Shifang Village. Naturally, he could tell that the boy had just returned from the spiritual fields.
Yuntian Sect issued each new disciple three low-grade spirit stones and two Qi-Nourishing Pills every month. Although the sect assigned them no mandatory tasks, it provided nothing else.
Most refused to exchange their cultivation resources for everyday necessities. Instead, they sought work from the stewards that would at least fill their stomachs: raising poultry, watering spiritual fields, pulling weeds, and other chores ordinary disciples were unwilling to perform.
If a supervisor took a liking to them, they might even secure a position despite performing poorly in the sect competition.
“What is it?” Lin Chen asked.
He did not pity the boy. Everyone chose their own path; whatever the outcome, they had to bear it themselves.
The boy looked distressed and spoke timidly. “That guqin… could you stop practicing it? Or perhaps practice somewhere else…?”
Because Lin Chen was highly regarded by an elder, most people dared not offend him. The boy had neither background nor exceptional talent, so the others had pushed him forward to make the complaint.
Lin Chen immediately understood.
All the residents of this courtyard were new disciples. Naturally, the sect would not bother installing soundproofing formations in every room.
If Lin Chen had played beautifully, the others might have enjoyed the music as background accompaniment. Unfortunately, that was far from the case. The last two days had been somewhat better, but earlier his playing had sounded like demonic music circling their ears, enough to make them wish for death.
They must have endured it to the very limit before speaking up.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb any of you.”
Lin Chen himself felt rather embarrassed. Remembering those ear-piercing sounds, he thought the others remarkably good-tempered for waiting this long to complain.
“Ah… n-no, it’s fine. Just be more careful next time.”
The boy had not expected him to be so accommodating and was visibly surprised.
Then again, Lin Chen was withdrawn. Apart from Xue Yi-shixiong of the inner sect, he scarcely interacted with anyone. The other disciples had instinctively assumed he was difficult to get along with.
After this incident, Lin Chen no longer dared practice the guqin casually inside the bamboo residence.
[Host, the Shop has a soundproofing formation. It costs only ten points!]
[How much did you say? Ten points?]
Dabai nearly made Lin Chen laugh in exasperation. He possessed a grand total of ten points, and the System was already scheming to take them.
[Spending ten points in exchange for peace and quiet isn’t a bad deal! How could this System be cheating you?]
[It certainly isn’t a bad deal for you. I’d rather save them for something else. It’s not as though I absolutely must learn to play right now.]
[But Host spent five hundred spirit stones on that guqin! Doesn’t it hurt to leave it sitting unused? Even this System feels the pain!]
[I drew the Fengyuan Guqin from a lottery pool that costs five hundred points per draw, and that’s sitting in storage gathering dust too, isn’t it?]
[That’s different! The Fengyuan Guqin didn’t cost Host any points, so it was essentially free. But you spent five hundred actual spirit stones on the Liuyin Guqin!]
[Then how about you take the Fengyuan Guqin back and exchange my beginner’s reward for five hundred points?]
What did Dabai think of that? Dabai thought its Host was a scoundrel. Who did things like that?
When Dabai fell silent, Lin Chen decided to explore the area behind the bamboo residence.
Behind the courtyard stood a comparatively low mountain peak. The newcomers living in the bamboo buildings sometimes wandered around it when they had nothing to do, and no one had ever mentioned anything unusual about the place.
| 道君 | dàojūn | Literally “Lord of the Dao.” An exalted Daoist-style title for a figure of exceptional spiritual authority or attainment; its precise standing varies among cultivation-fiction settings. |
| 师弟 | shīdì | Junior male fellow disciple within a shared teacher’s lineage or sect. Junior status is generally determined by discipleship seniority, not necessarily by biological age. |
| 师妹 | shīmèi | Junior female fellow disciple within the same master’s lineage or sect; a relational title that indicates lower discipleship seniority. |
| 师兄 | shīxiōng | Senior male fellow disciple within a common master’s lineage or sect. Seniority usually reflects the order of discipleship or sect hierarchy rather than age alone. |
| 尊者 | zūnzhě | An exalted, venerable, or greatly respected person. An honorific used for individuals of exceptional spiritual accomplishment or authority; in cultivation fiction it frequently denotes a formidable senior cultivator, without universally specifying a fixed realm. |