If it had been anyone else, daring to trample the feathers on the back of the venerable crane, they would have been thrown off and pecked relentlessly.
But Mu Zhaoran was exceedingly generous. In consideration of the box of spirit fish she had brought, the crane lord tolerated her for the moment, carrying her to a patch of auspicious clouds before You Guxue, and craning its neck to issue a warning call back at her.
The crane’s cry drew You Guxue’s attention. He tilted his head slightly, then calmly shifted his gaze to Mu Zhaoran, scrutinizing her in detail, taking in the dazzling outfit she wore today.
You Guxue exuded an aura of solemnity that embodied “acting on heaven’s behalf.” With the guilt mark upon her soul, Mu Zhaoran always felt uneasy in his presence. Afraid that he might sense something amiss, she forced herself to appear composed, sitting properly on the crane’s back, bowing slightly, and calling out, “Lord Xing Tianjian.”
You Guxue looked at her and said, “Since you have entered the Celestial Dao Palace, we are fellow disciples. We should address each other as senior and junior siblings.”
Obediently, Mu Zhaoran corrected herself, “Senior Brother You.”
Although she bowed, her wandering gaze dared not meet his eyes. It drifted aimlessly before finally settling on the person lying on the sword next to You Guxue.
That person looked pale and wan—the unlucky soul who had first been tossed about by the cranes and brought into the Celestial Dao Palace. Judging by the patterns on his clothing, he belonged to the Xuanji Pavilion, one of the four Northern sects.
This sect specialized in all sorts of intricate techniques, often requiring huge investments of spirit stones to test newly developed mechanisms and tools.
The current master of Xuanji Pavilion was exceptionally inventive, bordering on madness in his experiments. Yet the yield was extremely low: a failed trial meant all invested spirit stones were wasted, forcing the sect to borrow frequently from other major sects and noble families across the four directions.
Because Xuanji Pavilion was heavily in debt, the sect emphasized careful management, determined to use every spirit stone efficiently. No doubt, they were unwilling to feed any to the cranes.
Mu Zhaoran remembered that Xuanji Pavilion also owed a significant sum to Nanrong.
In her previous life, during the chaos of war in Nanrong, the pavilion had once supported her father with a batch of mechanical devices because of that debt.
However, fearing involvement in the conflicts of the southern region, Xuanji Pavilion had only provided the schematics, refusing to send personnel to assist. Although the royal army obtained the devices, very few could operate them, rendering the batch practically useless.
Later, when the Nanrong Kingdom fell, Mu Zhaoran sought refuge with Yanluo. Yanluo used his Gu insects to take members of Xuanji Pavilion hostage, forcing them to operate the batch of mechanisms, and together they led demons and heretics back to Nanrong.
Mu Zhaoran no longer remembered whether this person was among the hostages or what his name was. In her previous life, her heart and eyes had been entirely fixed on Yun Xiaoyang, leaving no thought for anyone else.
But the people of Xuanji Pavilion could not be careless toward a major creditor.
Qiudao Yuan, noticing Mu Zhaoran staring at him intently, feared she might demand repayment, so he hurriedly raised his sleeve to cover himself and, with forced composure, said, “Holy Maiden, I was just tossed about by the crane and my attire is disheveled. It is unbecoming, so I beg you not to stare at me like that.”
Mu Zhaoran responded, “Oh.” Yet her gaze remained fixed on him.
There was no other choice. With only the two of them there, and unable to look at You Guxue, she had to focus on him.
Mu Zhaoran herself was on pins and needles. Had she known that this wretched spirit would be waiting to receive the new disciples after Yumen, she would have stayed a while longer playing with the crane at Rugui Tower.
Those from the southern territories were one matter, but Rong Tingjue, Ning Shuai, and Ye Lingyan—all three, regardless of their true thoughts—kept up appearances, showing respect by following behind her. Somehow, however, they fell far behind.
Even the others from the various realms arrived slowly, leaving her alone at the front, facing You Guxue by herself.
Completely unlucky.
As long as You Guxue stared at Mu Zhaoran, she kept her gaze locked on Qiudao Yuan at his feet, not once looking him in the eye.
His icy, flawless features betrayed no emotion. His fingers, hidden behind his back, moved slightly, slowly rubbing together.
Next to him, Qiudao Yuan let out a startled yelp, his face contorted: “Sword Lord, your sword seems… to be discharging electricity!” Before he could finish, an arc of lightning zapped his backside.
Hearing the faint crackle of the electricity, Mu Zhaoran’s heart jumped.
You Guxue’s gaze did not waver. He replied coldly, “I cultivate the Heavenly Sword, which governs lightning. Arcs on the sword are normal. If Junior Brother Qiu is unaccustomed, I can summon a crane to carry you.”
Qiudao Yuan quickly waved his hands. “No, no. It’s more comfortable riding the sword Lord’s sword itself.”
Silence fell again, broken only by the faint crackle of electricity and Qiudao Yuan’s muffled groans. Mu Zhaoran quietly curled her fingers, saying nothing.
Fortunately, before long, more people crossed Yumen and arrived.
You Guxue’s attention finally left her, and Mu Zhaoran exhaled, no longer staring at Qiudao Yuan.
This time, the arrivals came in full. One by one, they rode cranes to the clouds, and all twenty-four were present at once. Each expression was different, some quite amusing.
Especially the young master she had seen on the ground before, now lying pale and sullen on his crane, clutching a box of spirit stones—half of which were gone.
When the crane landed, he immediately tried to jump to the clouds below, but the cloud could support the crane, not a person. He nearly fell through the air.
Fortunately, the crane clutched the spirit stone box in its beak, pulling him back onto its back. From then on, no one dared act rashly.
Once everyone had arrived, You Guxue raised his sleeve, and the golden bell swung, sending ripples of sound. The clouds that had dispersed folded back together, surrounding the mountaintop palace and isolating it from the mortal world, shrouded in mist and clouds, as if hidden from the world.
He scanned the group and asked, “Why are you late?”
They exchanged glances. A coquettish voice replied, “All because of the Young Master of Penglai Island, showing off a box full of spirit stones. Every crane saw it and wanted a share, chasing after him.”
The more the other cranes pursued, the faster the young master’s own crane flew to protect its prize.
Approaching Yumen, they collided with Rong Tingjue and the others. Though promises had been made to their cranes, empty words could not compare to the scene before them. Naturally, the cranes joined the fray.
Thus, a flock of cranes circled the capital above, dozens of loops, entertaining the lower city’s citizens, before finally delivering the disciples through Yumen when the time limit approached.
Ye Lingyan came to Mu Zhaoran, clutching her chest, pale-faced: “Your Highness, it’s fortunate you arrived early.”
Mu Zhaoran said nothing, silently thinking: given a choice, she would have rather stayed outside racing with everyone than face You Guxue alone.
Even now, some cranes still tried slyly to snatch spirit stones from the young master.
You Guxue drew a bolt of lightning from his sword beneath him, casting it outward. The lightning split into multiple arcs, each palm-sized, looping around the necks of all the cranes.
Others might have spared the birds out of respect for a Spirit Lord, but You Guxue treated both humans and cranes equally. His aura was stern and unyielding: “This is punishment.”
Arcs of lightning sent feathers flying, eliciting shrill cries; the people on their backs felt their rear ends tingle but dared not move.
—Except for Mu Zhaoran and her crane.
Her crane puffed its chest proudly, fully loyal. Other cranes fought over spirit stones, but hers had spirit fish, pure in essence, attractive and tasty. Hanging around its neck where others could see but not steal made it feel distinguished, so it disdainfully avoided the rough scramble.
After everyone had sworn before the Tortoise-Backed Monument, formally entering the Celestial Dao Palace as fellow disciples, golden lights emerged from the monument. They fell into the disciples’ hands, washing away the words “Yan Jin Mu Xiu” and leaving blank jade tokens—the official tokens of the Celestial Dao Palace, required for all entry and exit.
With this done, You Guxue rose on his sword, leading the cranes around the palace.
Having been disciplined, the cranes now obeyed like quails. Where You Guxue went, they followed; where he stopped, they folded their wings, no longer reckless.
Indeed, even mischievous birds need a strict hand.
At each location, You Guxue paused briefly, introducing the name of the suspended island, the number and function of palaces within, and infused each disciple’s jade token with spiritual energy.
The blank jade token then displayed the palace’s totem. Using spiritual perception, one could see detailed information about the palace.
After completing the tour, the jade token became a full map of the Celestial Dao Palace. Any location displayed could be accessed; forbidden areas did not appear. Ordinary disciples could not find them.
Mu Zhaoran had experienced this in her past life, though with a different guide. Then, her heart was tender, making the memory vivid. Objectively, however, Yun Xiaoyang had been more suitable for this task.
Unlike You Guxue’s cold demeanor, Yun Xiaoyang added color with stories—where to enjoy rain, clouds, or fireflies—making the tour engaging. Questions were answered patiently; new and old disciples mingled harmoniously, feeling the palace as a home.
Now, both birds and humans were silent. Every time You Guxue appeared, senior disciples suddenly vanished, forcing new disciples to exchange bewildered looks.
Naturally, You Guxue did not introduce them, merely driving them forward like herding ducks, reciting the script coldly.
“The Celestial Dao Palace is divided according to the Five Elements: Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth. For example, sword studies are in the Metal Palace. The Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire Palaces lie on the four cardinal suspended islands; only the Earth Palace is atop the central Absolute Mountain.”
The Absolute Mountain, the only peak in this vast plain and capital, connects the Celestial Dao Palace to the mortal capital.
Though central, the Earth Palace had few disciples, appearing quiet compared to the others. Besides it, the mountain housed the Administration Hall, Scripture Library, Martial Training Grounds, and mid-mountain spiritual fields and beast enclosures—main activity areas. The other four islands surrounded it.
Having finished, You Guxue gave the disciples a thread of spiritual energy, marking the token, and moved on.
Mu Zhaoran traced the Earth Palace totem with her fingertip, glancing inside. Several elders waved hurriedly, some faces familiar.
No matter how she tried to call them back, the cranes flew ever farther.
The instructors, having dressed properly to impress the new disciples before aptitude testing, could now see only the cranes’ rears.
“Why are they moving so fast!” one fumed, shaking his sleeves. “Weren’t we supposed to be received by the Heavenly Sword? Why has it become the Xing Tian Sword?”
Another instructor said, “I heard that Yun Xiaoyang didn’t return until late last night, and he was badly injured. You Guxue must have taken over out of concern for his junior brother.”
“Hmph, he really is a responsible senior brother,” the first instructor snorted, looking rather displeased with the Xing Tian Sword. “You Guxue may be skilled at slaying demons, but handling disciples isn’t his strong suit. With that scowling face, wouldn’t he scare the new disciples half to death?”
Someone returning from the Administration Hall overheard and added, “He volunteered today, and the elders had no choice. Among the three Masters, only the Sword Master has two disciples. As the senior brother of the Celestial Dao Palace, it’s their luck to have him escort the new disciples.”
“Enough, enough. Let’s just wait at the Five Elements Platform. At this speed, we won’t have to wait until the afternoon; he should be bringing the new disciples soon to test their talents.”
At this moment, the very fortunate new disciples were desperately pinching their thighs to stay awake.
Everyone except Ning Shuai, the young master of the Ning family from Luojin Mountain.
The Ning ancestors had been cursed by demons; their bloodline carried calamity, and the family members were fated to short lives. They had to take humble names to suppress their destiny. Yet the Ning family was unyielding, refusing to bow to demons, becoming a lineage devoted to exorcism. The young master’s lifelong ambition was to vanquish all demons, and he greatly admired You Guxue, who wielded the Xing Tian Sword to act on heaven’s behalf.
He listened so intently that he recorded every word You Guxue spoke with pen and paper.
Mu Zhaoran, who had slept poorly the night before, watched Ning Shuai’s trembling pen, and her own drowsiness pressed in harder and harder. Yet a nerve was taut, keeping her from truly nodding off in front of You Guxue.
Whenever she felt his gaze sweep over her, her slowly drooping eyelashes would twitch violently, and she would snap her eyes wide open. Whether there was focus in them or not, she could not care.
It was utterly torturous.
You Guxue noticed this. He waited for her lashes to nearly droop, then looked directly at her, enjoying the way she forced her eyes wide, straining until tears welled at the corners, her expression more blank than even the crane beneath her. He couldn’t help but smirk.
By the time they reached the Martial Training Grounds, Mu Zhaoran was on the verge of sleep again. Fragments of conversation on the training field suddenly drifted to her ears with the wind.
“I heard Senior Brother Yun was injured… hurry and finish your task to see him… are you going?”
Hearing the words “Senior Brother Yun,” her heart skipped a beat. Her drowsy mind snapped sharply awake.
Senior Brother Yun—the only Yun in the Celestial Dao Palace was Yun Xiaoyang.
You Guxue’s calm, unwavering narration suddenly faltered. His contracted pupils pierced her eyes, now clear and bright, before he casually looked away and continued his speech as if nothing had happened.
Beneath his cold exterior, molten fire churned, repeatedly tempering that seemingly indifferent heart.
—Mu Zhaoran, you truly haven’t given up on him yet.