Heavy snow fell in swirling flurries, dyeing the entire mountain peak in a silvery white. The biting cold wind wrapped around the snowflakes, dancing wantonly through the air.
A breathtakingly beautiful woman dressed in a pale yellow magic robe stood gracefully, like a delicate flower blooming amidst the snow, or a spirit that had strayed into the mortal world.
Her figure was elegant, her skin fairer than snow, her features as picturesque as a painting. Her sparkling, limpid eyes shimmered with radiance, as if they could draw a person’s very soul into their depths.
She parted her rosy lips, and her voice rang out crisp and pleasant, yet carried a hint of finality. Channeling her Spiritual Power, she called out loudly:
“Murong Mo, your disciple Lin Qianqian is here. I have truly repented and come to my senses!
From this day forth, I am willing to write off the bond of master and disciple between us entirely!
I will no longer harbor any improper thoughts toward you. I only ask that you—for the sake of the three years I have followed behind you—agree to dissolve this master-disciple bond!
From now on, let us go our separate ways, walk different paths, and be strangers on the path of immortality, with no further entanglement!
This oath is witnessed by Heaven and Earth. If I speak falsely, may I be struck by lightning, my soul scattered to the winds, and die a miserable death!”
This earth-shattering cry was like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, shaking even the accumulated snow on the roof of Ink Cloud Hall so that it fell in soft rustles.
The inner disciples who had just risen and were preparing to clear the snow from the courtyard…
They had been drowsy with sleep, but upon hearing this shout, they instantly perked up.
One by one, they stopped what they were doing and, like cats catching the scent of fish, pricked up their ears and craned their necks to gather around, ready to watch a good show.
However, when they caught sight of that stunning figure outside the hall, everyone froze. Their mouths hung open in stunned disbelief.
“Wh-who is this fairy that has descended from the heavens?” one disciple couldn’t help but murmur.
“Good heavens, there exists such a beauty in this world? She is a thousand times more beautiful than the immortals in paintings!” another disciple exclaimed in admiration.
“Who is she? Could she be the closed-door disciple of some reclusive immortal venerable, here to visit our Peak Master?” someone began to speculate about her identity.
“Do you think the Peak Master might take a liking to her, and then…” a bold disciple started gossiping.
The crowd of inner disciples exchanged whispers and hushed comments, their faces filled with shock and curiosity.
Though they had not seen many women in their daily lives, compared to the one before them, those others were like mud compared to clouds.
This woman was so beautiful she hardly seemed human—more like a celestial maiden who had descended from the heavens, impossible to look away from once seen.
Inside Ink Cloud Hall, however, the atmosphere was completely different from outside.
Dressed in a moon-white robe, Murong Mo sat cross-legged, a faint halo of light radiating from his body, clearly absorbing Spiritual Qi.
Hearing the voice from outside?
A trace of impatience flickered across his face—handsome and peerless as a banished immortal—along with a barely perceptible hint of mockery. A cold gleam passed through his deep, profound eyes.
He could not even be bothered to lift his eyelids, let alone rise to his feet.
But to make Lin Qianqian “thoroughly give up”!
He still channeled his Spiritual Power, his voice cold and majestic as it pierced through the heavy doors of the bedchamber, drifting out unhurriedly:
“Very well, Lin Qianqian. Since you are so resolute today, then so be it—as you wish.
Remember the words you have spoken today, and the oath you have sworn.
If you ever violate them, if you dare set foot within my bedchamber again, even if the Heavenly Dao does not send down its thunder to strike you…
I will personally make you witness what it truly means to have your soul scattered and your form obliterated!”
Outside the hall…
Lin Qianqian trembled all over, her face instantly turning as pale as paper from anger. She bit her lip tightly, her nails digging deeply into her palms, yet she felt no pain at all.
Inside, however, she was roaring madly:
“Murong Mo, do you really think you’re such a hot commodity?
Are your eyes growing on top of your head?
Still thinking you’re ‘loved by all’?
Pah!
Narcissist!
Just you wait…
Although this body’s cultivation level is inadequate right now, if I can’t do it openly, I’ll do it secretly. Sooner or later, I’ll make you know what I’m capable of!”
The inner sect disciples were once again stunned.
What had they just heard?
That stunning fairy standing outside the bedchamber was actually that…
Lin Qianqian, who from childhood had worn thick makeup every single day, pestered their Peak Master relentlessly for three years, and then knelt outside the Peak Master’s hall for three days and three nights?
This…
The world seemed to have turned fantastical!
Lin Qianqian turned to leave, when suddenly, two figures in the distance caught her eye.
The woman in the lead wore a plain white magic robe, about nineteen years of age, with a graceful figure. Though not a peerless beauty, she could barely be considered delicate and pretty.
She held a Jade Moon Sword, its blade flowing with a faint azure light, which further set off her ethereal aura.
Behind her followed a man, also dressed in a white robe, but considerably taller than the woman—fully one meter eighty-six.
The man was about twenty-seven, with a face like polished jade, sword-shaped eyebrows and starry eyes. He emanated a natural, innate noble aura that made others not dare to look directly at him.
These two were none other than the female protagonist of the book—Sun Yanran—and Murong Mo’s chief direct disciple—Zhou Jin.
Sun Yanran’s aptitude was ordinary; she had Five Spiritual Roots and had currently cultivated to Qi Refining Level Four.
Within the sect, because she was Murong Mo’s beloved direct disciple and a rare Female Cultivator in the sect, she was greatly favored and held a rather noble status.
As for Zhou Jin, he was even more of a heaven-gifted genius—with a Heavenly Spiritual Root aptitude and Nascent Soul Level Two cultivation. Across the entire Cultivation Realm, he was one in ten thousand.
At this moment, this pair of senior and junior disciples were walking gracefully toward Lin Qianqian.
When they got close enough to see Lin Qianqian’s face…