Once You Guxue left, everyone around quickly gathered around Mu Zhaoran. The instructors of the Earth Hall examined her like a precious treasure, one after another asking if she was hurt, whether You Guxue had truly offended her, and insisting that the matter should be reported to the Swordmaster so that he could properly punish You Guxue and temper his arrogance.
Mu Zhaoran didn’t want to truly offend the Xing Tian Sword, or have it bear a grudge against her, so she waved her hands and said, “Senior Brother You was only joking with me. It’s not that serious, no need to trouble the Swordmaster over it.”
The instructors nodded, smiling approvingly, praising her magnanimity and saying she was truly worthy of her Southern Rong royal heritage.
Mu Zhaoran knew exactly the little schemes in their minds. In her previous life, they had spared no effort in flattering her to entice her into the Earth Hall, lavishly praising her every virtue. But her attention had always been on Yun Xiaoyang, and no matter what they did, she had never set foot in the Earth Hall.
This time, although she still had some distaste for Earth-type arts, she could no longer waste her time like before. She cast a glance at the snow-and-ice floating island above, bowed respectfully to the instructors, and said earnestly, “From now on, Zhaoran will trouble all of you instructors to teach me diligently.”
The Earth Hall instructors beamed, reaching out to help her up, exclaiming joyfully, “Good! Excellent!”
After the talent assessment, the academy issued every student a guide to the cultivation paths and systems of the five halls, allowing them to choose a main path suited to their innate talent.
Compared to others who could choose from multiple options, Mu Zhaoran’s single-element talent was so strong that the other four elements were completely overshadowed. She had no choice to make, so there was no need to waste time deliberating.
The enthusiastic instructors brought her back to the Earth Hall, saying that the hall’s eldest brother was an exceptional cook. Since it was mealtime, they would all eat together and get to know each other.
Mu Zhaoran was a picky eater and never shared chopsticks with others. In her previous life, she would never have interacted so closely with classmates. But knowing she would study under them in the future, she had no choice but to follow along.
Upon arriving, she immediately sensed that the Earth Hall was far quieter and more desolate than it appeared from outside.
In the spacious hall, there were five instructors and, with the addition of the new Mu Zhaoran, only seven students specializing in Earth-element cultivation.
By contrast, the Gold Hall, even just for sword cultivation, had eighteen specialized courses—like Emotionless Sword, Sentimental Sword, Frost Sword, Flame Sword, and so on—each fully enrolled. Every morning and evening, streams of light could be seen flowing toward the Western Floating Island—a truly spectacular sight.
Compared with that, the Earth Hall seemed almost forlorn. No wonder a single, slightly larger round table could seat everyone.
Among the seven Earth Hall disciples, besides the newcomer Mu Zhaoran, there were four male and two female students. She carefully learned their names and respectfully addressed each one as Senior Brother or Senior Sister. After going around the circle, she noticed one was missing and asked, puzzled, “Where’s Third Senior Brother?”
Hadn’t they just said that everyone in the Earth Hall was present?
The eldest brother replied, “Third Junior Brother? You’ve already—”
He was cut off by Master Cen’s cold snort. Stroking his beard and glaring, he said, “He’s not important. Just pretend he doesn’t exist.” He pushed a plate of food toward Mu Zhaoran, changing the subject: “Here, try your eldest brother’s cooking.”
The others at the table tacitly agreed not to mention the mysterious Third Senior Brother again.
Being new, Mu Zhaoran followed the local custom. She picked up a slice of lotus root, chewed, and squinted her eyes in praise: “Delicious.”
The Celestial Dao Palace used ingredients grown on the sacred mountains—spiritual vegetables and animals—which did not burden the body and even benefited low-level cultivators. Yet most Golden Core-level disciples still chose fasting to restrain desire.
The Earth Hall seemed less concerned with such matters and enjoyed their meals freely.
Mu Zhaoran, used to the Southern Rong Holy Hall, where every meal was spiritual food, found it bland. Even a dish like braised pork there would taste calm and austere. She preferred meals with the hearty, rustic aroma of the mundane world and could immediately detect the quality of ingredients.
The eldest brother indeed cooked superbly, making spiritual food taste better than in the Holy Hall, though he was slow in cultivation, still only at Golden Core.
The second senior sister, Chu Yu, often represented the Earth Hall externally. She had a flexible, athletic build, rare wheat-colored skin, and a unique beauty. Her personality resembled Master Cen, who spat yellow sand when excited—Chu Yu could dent the table with a finger when agitated, leaving marks on the round dining table.
The remaining female disciple, sixth in rank, had a small round face and round eyes. Her name was Wang Shu, and she had joined the Celestial Dao Palace twenty years ago. No wonder the instructors were so excited today.
Mu Zhaoran’s arrival brought joy to the Earth Hall. After witnessing Master Cen’s yellow sand technique on the Five Elements Platform, she was shown the hall’s various earth-based arts—ground-passage, stone-pointing, earth transformation, breaking stones with chest muscles, arm-swinging techniques, and all sorts of chaotic, dusty exercises.
In her two lives, she had never experienced such a chaotic, dust-filled meal. After chewing on her food and biting down on three stones by accident, she finally could not take it anymore, setting her chopsticks down.
In her previous life, she would never have tolerated sitting at a table with such a group—she would have slammed the door and left. But now, as the Holy Maiden, she endured.
Second Senior Sister Chu Yu patted a large dog-like stone construct beside her and said generously, “Little Junior Sister, eat more. You need energy to cultivate. Don’t mind that the eldest brother is weak in cultivation—his cooking is excellent.”
Mu Zhaoran watched, astonished, as Chu Yu slipped a small stone into her rice. Without flinching, she chewed it as if eating beans.
Master Cen, picking out stones from his bowl, smiled kindly and said, “Zhaoran, coming from the Southern Rong Royal Palace, you surely have seen more of the world than others. You won’t judge the Earth Hall as inferior just because others do.”
Mu Zhaoran remained silent, waiting for his next words.
Master Cen put down his chopsticks, stood, and gestured toward the bright blue sky. “People only see sword cultivators’ glory, but do they know the universe is ruled by Heaven and Earth? Earth-element cultivation, mastered to its fullest, allows one to control the power of the land itself—to move mountains, fill seas, shift stars. Even breaking through to ascension is possible. Truly, Earth cultivation is the king of all arts!”
“Power over the land?”
The term sounded vaguely familiar. Mu Zhaoran felt she had heard it somewhere before but couldn’t recall. Seeing the others nodding, she nodded as well.
Another instructor, surnamed Lin, added, “Indeed. In the past, our Earth Hall also produced a peerless master among the Three Sovereigns.”
Mu Zhaoran asked in surprise, “Really?”
Instructor Lin nodded, stroking his small chin beard. “How could it be false? A thousand years ago, before the current Law Sovereign ascended, the Celestial Dao Palace’s supreme master was an Earth cultivator.”
But it was so long ago, before the Law Sovereign, the Celestial Dao Palace was little known, and few historical records survived. Now, people only knew of the Law Sovereign, not those before him.
Even the instructors only had vague knowledge from ancient scrolls in the archives. The younger disciples knew even less.
But that did not matter. What mattered was showing the next generation that there was hope to aspire to.
Mu Zhaoran’s eyes brightened slightly. She had no desire for the position of one of the Three Sovereigns—her only goal was to cultivate to the point where she could reach the highest floating island of ice and snow, open the gates of the Jun Tian Hall, and obtain the Cheng Tian Mirror.
Even if it meant being constantly surrounded by sand and soil, becoming dusty and grimy, she was prepared to accept it.
After the meal, the instructors spent some time outlining the bright prospects of her future before reluctantly escorting this new treasure out of the Earth Hall.
Inside the hall, a muscular man who had demonstrated breaking stones with his chest leaned against the door, looking toward the palace gate. He murmured, “Well, this is something. The Earth Hall has gained a distinguished guest: the Southern Rong Holy Maiden. Someone of her status, surely born with their feet barely touching the ground, is coming here to study Earth arts?”
Wang Shu, newly promoted to Senior Sister and still dizzy from being addressed by Mu Zhaoran as “Sixth Senior Sister,” didn’t catch the sarcasm in his tone. Excitedly, she said, “Yes, Fifth Senior Brother! I now have such a beautiful, high-born Junior Sister! What kind of gift should I prepare for her?”
Fifth Senior Brother: “……”
Meanwhile, Mu Zhaoran left the Earth Hall and returned to the disciples’ residence.
The Celestial Dao Palace’s Administration Hall had already assigned accommodations. New disciples all stayed on a side peak south of the Absolute Mountain, where many courtyards and pavilions were nestled among clouds and emerald trees.
Mu Zhaoran’s residence was the same as in her previous life: two main courtyards front and back, with two side courtyards, a small bamboo grove at the rear, and a mountain stream—ample space for the spirit servants and attendants who came with her.
Standing at the familiar porch, she reached out to touch the plaque on the side pillar, feeling a surge of emotion. She whispered, “Zhuxi Pavilion.”
This life would never repeat the mistakes of the last.
Her jade token flickered, projecting a notification: At the first hour tomorrow, assemble at Liuyu Pavilion for the marrow-washing pool. Participation is voluntary.
The Celestial Dao Palace was reasonable—disciples weren’t forced to enter the marrow-washing pool; it was voluntary.
Entering the pool meant dispersing one’s spiritual energy and refining the bones and meridians to start anew. For a young disciple like Mu Zhaoran, who had only reached the Qi Refining stage and had little spiritual energy, dispersing it was no problem.
However, among the new disciples, cultivation levels varied—some had reached Foundation Establishment, others Golden Core. They joined the palace to study higher-level techniques. Resetting their cultivation now, even if their foundation was imperfect, would be a significant loss.
In her previous life, Mu Zhaoran had gone through the marrow-washing pool, but her mind had not been on cultivation. Believing her bones were naturally blessed and her meridians clear, she had considered three days in the pool a waste of time. Instead, she spent her energy dressing nicely and parading in front of Yun Xiaoyang to capture his heart.
Because she repeatedly disrupted other disciples’ cultivation, she had been quickly and humiliatingly ejected from the pool, hiding under her blankets, crying and cursing Yun Xiaoyang for not appreciating her. Yet when she next saw him, she would still act foolishly, running straight into trouble.
Judging from the style of this jade token’s notification, the brother guarding them tomorrow would be You Guxue.
Unfortunately, You Guxue was not an easy person to deal with. Just thinking about seeing him tomorrow made her pulse race. She was about to close her eyes and question the system about why he had not gone into seclusion this life when a prompt sounded first:
“The female lead is in danger due to the host’s actions. The host must quickly go to rescue her to make amends; otherwise, any harm she suffers will be reflected upon the host. Successful rescue will offset the host’s soul’s sin value.”
Mu Zhaoran barely had time to react before a sharp pain made her hiss. Lifting her sleeve, she saw a fresh bloodstain on her arm. “Why is this happening because of me again?” she yelled. “Everything is my fault? I haven’t even met Ye Lizhi today!”
…
Celestial Dao Palace, Floating Sword Platform.
Each of the Three Sovereigns had a floating island as their dwelling. The Swordmaster resided on the Floating Sword Platform and had been in seclusion for over a year, showing no sign of emerging.
The Swordmaster’s two inner disciples lived on the same island: the elder’s Fuxue Hall to the left, the second disciple’s Yunxiao Hall to the right.
At this moment, You Guxue stood by the window of Yunxiao Hall, gazing at a mimosa tree outside.
Yun Xiaoyang, recently awakened from a severe injury, leaned pale against the bed. The day he had traced the disturbances at Futo Mountain’s mass grave, he dug out a broken wooden puppet from the stinking mud.
Following the puppet’s remaining strings, he tracked down an orphanage, only to fall into an ambush and a killing array, almost dying there.
It was only when he revealed the sword inscription on the Feng Tian Sword that those behind the array hesitated, leaving a flaw. He found a way out, broke the array, and returned to the palace with the sword guiding him.
Yun Xiaoyang’s face bore the weakness of serious injury, and the room smelled strongly of medicinal herbs. Looking at the figure by the window, he said, “That killing array was bizarre. Those who set it must be far stronger than I. With such power, why not eliminate Ye Rong personally? Why employ a bunch of ghost bandits?”
The tall figure at the window turned, cold as frost. You Guxue replied casually, “Why use a sledgehammer to kill a chicken? If you hadn’t intervened, the ghost bandits alone would have sufficed.”
Yun Xiaoyang lowered his eyes. Because he had disrupted the ghost bandits, the person behind the scenes had expected him to investigate and had deliberately left the puppet clue to lure him.
In such a short time, arranging a near-deadly killing array was rare—only a few disciples in the Southern Region could manage it, either in the Southern Rong Holy Hall or among the great clans.
With Ye Rong’s reputation, the death of the national protector would destabilize the Southern Rong, benefiting obvious parties. As the royal family declined, the noble families began to stir.
You Guxue said, “The Celestial Dao Palace promised that aside from world catastrophes, they would not interfere in the Four Regions’ conflicts. Rest well; there is no need to pursue this further.”
Yun Xiaoyang nodded. The person behind the killing array had the ability to eliminate him, but seeing the Feng Tian Sword’s inscription, they left an escape route, showing they didn’t wish the palace to intervene.
After dealing with the matter, You Guxue, always cold, was about to leave. But just as he reached the door, a shout came: “Senior Brother!”
He turned. Yun Xiaoyang, hand on the Feng Tian Sword, felt its subtle flicker and said, “I have a favor to ask. One of my friends may be in danger…”
Before he could finish, a disciple outside urgently reported: “Lord Xing Tian, Elder Cang of Gui Tower sends word: a monster has appeared mid-mountain at Absolute Mountain. Black shadows cover a vast forest. Most of the attendants accompanying the new disciples have been swallowed, and the shadow continues to expand.”
Meanwhile, at Zhuxi Pavilion, Mu Zhaoran, wincing from the pain on her arm, pushed open the door.
She had no desire to risk herself directly and intended to send her spirit servants instead. But the pavilion was empty—nothing brought from Southern Rong had been placed there.
Gently touching the beads on her wrist, she called, “Shuang Xu, where are you?”
The beads glowed, but there was no reply.
Worrying, she realized that Shuang Xu and Ye Lizhi had entered the palace together. Could they have fallen into the same danger? If even Shuang Xu couldn’t handle it, how could she? And she certainly could not carry something so dangerous herself.
In moments, several more injuries appeared on her body, sweat beading on her forehead from the pain. She retrieved a spirit fish from her storage pouch and tossed it into a cloud above.
The cloud stirred; several cranes darted out, competing for the fish. One victorious crane swallowed it and landed beside her.
She mounted the crane and said, “Fly down, to the mid-mountain of Absolute Mountain.”
Absolute Mountain was the only range in Central Continent, with peaks piercing the clouds and stretches of hundreds of miles. Even knowing the path, navigating it would take considerable time.
As Mu Zhaoran descended through the clouds, she suddenly noticed several streaks of white light diving toward the mid-mountain. She followed and found a massive black shadow in a mountain hollow.
Evening had come, and the remaining sunset was swallowed by the massive shadow, making the hollow eerily dark.
From a distance, she saw people hovering around the shadow, magical attacks striking it but being absorbed, causing the shadow to expand, crushing rocks and breaking trees.
Massive claws emerged from the dark mass, swiping at the group, forcing them to retreat while attacking.
A sudden pain on her arm added another injury. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “A Wudan?”
—Okay, the system really could blame her this time.
The white light in front hovered, revealing human figures. One, in snow-white robes with a tall, upright posture and a golden belt amidst flowing black hair, was immediately recognizable. Her heart tightened.
Why was it You Guxue again? Wasn’t the hero supposed to be the male lead in a typical rescue scenario?
Oh, right—Yun Xiaoyang was injured.
The Xing Tian Sword sprang from You Guxue’s feet, flying straight into the air with a resonant hum. The blade lengthened inch by inch, instantly forming a massive sword, its tip aimed directly at the enormous black shadow below.
The black shadow churned like a lake of thick ink, surging violently. From its depths came muffled roars of anger, and the claws it manifested kept swiping at the hovering sword, sparks of electricity crackling through the air.
“Wait!” Mu Zhaoran shouted, forcing herself to suppress her fear of the Xing Tian Sword. She urged the crane beneath her to fly faster, then, in a desperate move, leapt from its back and slammed into You Guxue’s lower back, clutching his belt and shouting repeatedly, “Don’t strike it! Stop hitting it for now!”
You Guxue grunted as she collided with him. Ignoring the sharp pain in his waist, he paused the hand seals controlling the sword, grabbed her firmly with one hand, and held his gaze on her. Coldly, he asked, “Junior Sister Mu, what are you doing here?”
Breathing heavily, Mu Zhaoran held his arm to steady herself and said, “Don’t strike it. Your attacks from above will only hurt the people it swallowed.”
The soft warmth of her touch seeped through his thick clothing, registering in his senses. He tugged at his arm, intending to toss her back onto the crane. “I know what I’m doing. I won’t hurt the people inside it.”
Previously, when others had attacked, Mu Zhaoran would always bear new injuries along with Ye Lizhi, but this time, no lightning-like wounds appeared on her body.
Still, she clung tightly to his arm, unwilling to let him seal the sword, urgency in her voice: “No! It’s not evil. It’s my spirit pet—a cat spirit. I don’t know how it came to follow me into the Celestial Dao Palace, but I promise it has never harmed anyone. I can make it release the people in its belly.”
As she strained, You Guxue noticed her muffled groan of pain and, out of the corner of his eye, the blood streaks on her wrist. Slowly, he detected the metallic tang of blood beneath her powder, and the faint stains spreading along her delicate waist and abdomen. His motion faltered.
The Xing Tian Sword hovered in midair, its lightning withdrawn, while below the black lake-like mass, massive cat claws swirled, emitting low, mournful wails.
Seizing the moment, Mu Zhaoran looked up at him, forcing a few tears and imploring in a soft voice, “Senior Brother, please don’t strike it.”
She was the best at putting on a false front.
Seeing her familiar, coaxing expression, a cold smile flickered in You Guxue’s heart. His frost-like gaze softened slightly. “What do you intend to do?” he asked.
Mu Zhaoran lowered her eyes toward the vast black lake that nearly filled the entire mountain hollow. Its surface roiled like an angry sea in a storm, huge claws lashing at anyone who dared approach.
“Please, Senior Brother, bring me closer to it.”
You Guxue maneuvered them nearer, dodging wave after wave of sweeping claws. Mu Zhaoran called out to the black mass repeatedly, but the spirit did not respond. She frowned, frustrated: “Your attacks must have frightened it. Its consciousness has retreated deep inside, which is why it can’t hear me.”
“You leave me no choice,” You Guxue said coldly. “I can only tear it apart.”
“No!” Mu Zhaoran’s refusal was firm. She relaxed her grip on his arm slightly. “Let me enter and find its consciousness—it won’t take long.”
The last rays of sunset were fading. Someone shouted from afar, “Lord Xing Tian, if you don’t deal with it before nightfall, once it merges with the darkness, it will swallow even more territory!”
Hearing this, Mu Zhaoran tried to leap into the black lake below, but You Guxue caught her hand. He glanced at the clearly enraged cat spirit beneath and asked, “Are you certain it still recognizes you as its master?”
“Yes! It definitely does!” Mu Zhaoran said with conviction.
Since its youth, Wu Tuan had always followed her. Even after death, it remained by her side as a spirit. In her previous life, it had been crushed even in its spirit form while trying to save her from Yun Xiaoyang. This time, she could not bear to watch it be torn apart again.
The golden sun fell, and the last light vanished. The Xing Tian Sword’s radiance cut through the darkness, carving a line of light between Wu Tuan and the night, restraining its spread.
You Guxue wiped across the wound on her wrist, and she flinched from the pain. She could not explain the injury, for it would reveal the sin mark on her soul, so she merely said, “It wasn’t Wu Tuan—it’s my own careless scratch.”
“Mm.” His expression betrayed nothing—whether he believed her or not. He dabbed a bit of her blood onto his finger and drew it across his own wrist.
The blood glowed and extended like a red tether, a chain binding Mu Zhaoran at one end and held in You Guxue’s hand at the other.
Mu Zhaoran: “…” She endured it, for Wu Tuan.
You Guxue released her, letting her be swept by a wave of clawed shadow. “I’ll wait only half an hour,” he said.
In an instant, the black shadow engulfed her vision. Mu Zhaoran stood in thick darkness, unable to see or hear anything—only the faint red tether stretching to You Guxue remained, giving her a sense of direction.
She had played this game with Wu Tuan before. When she had been lazy about studying or cultivating, she would have Wu Tuan envelop her in its body, and she would sleep undisturbed, oblivious to the elders’ scolding. Once rested, she would have it release her, and when the elders complained, she would simply blame the spirit: “Wu Tuan insisted I stay inside to play—it’s just a little cat; even in death, it wants to be with me. How can the elders blame it?”
Wu Tuan would sit nearby, tilting its head innocently and meowing.
The elders would be powerless against them.
But previously, Wu Tuan had been small, able to cover only her. She had never seen it so large—its spirit now filled an entire mountain hollow, swallowing Shuang Xu and the entire convoy.
No wonder Shuang Xu could not handle it. Knowing it was Wu Tuan, she would never strike it.
Mu Zhaoran retrieved several illumination talismans from her pouch, floating them around her as she called Wu Tuan’s name while venturing deeper into the darkness. Suddenly, a flash of white light appeared. Her eyes brightened. “Wu Tuan?”
The light emitted a shrill cry as it closed in—but it was not Wu Tuan. It was a crescent-shaped sword light.
Mu Zhaoran froze, quickly rolling aside. The sword light grazed her hair, slicing into the darkness and vanishing.
All around, deep, rumbling roars erupted—it was Wu Tuan’s pained howl.
The wails rolled through the darkness like thunder, shaking her blood and qi, splitting her head. Even clamping her hands over her ears did little.
After a long while, the cries subsided. Mu Zhaoran tugged at the red tether, panting, “I told you not to attack it!”
You Guxue’s voice came along the tether: “Those were the previous attacks. It couldn’t resolve them, so it’s thrashing inside its own spirit form.”
Within moments, several flaming arrows streaked toward her. She rolled and dodged, her dress burned with several holes, and another injury appeared across her back.
It wasn’t her injury—it was Ye Lizhi’s.
Ye Lizhi’s condition must be critical. She still had not opened her spiritual orifices, so as an ordinary person, these injuries would have caused massive blood loss. Only because Mu Zhaoran had opened her orifices and possessed spiritual energy could she endure this.
Sporadic flashes of attack appeared in the darkness, close and far, always vanishing, while Wu Tuan continued to wail in pain.
Mu Zhaoran shook her throbbing head, trying to stay conscious. You Guxue continued: “I can lend you some power. Without harming the cat spirit, you can help it dispel the attacks inside it.”
Mu Zhaoran couldn’t believe it. “Really? You’d be so kind?”
He gave a flat hum, then added lightly, “But you will have to touch others’ swords in the process.”
She frowned and asked instinctively, “Is there no way to lend the power without touching the swords?”
The red tether remained silent for three breaths before You Guxue’s cold voice replied, “No.”