“Something terrible has happened, Senior Brother Meng has gone mad!”

This was what all the outer disciples were saying.

They rushed to Song’s courtyard with grave concern and urgency, ready to restrain the raging beast together.

Yet what they saw was Meng He Ze wearing an apron, bringing out a bowl of noodles.

The rich broth topping steamed in the cool night air, its aroma carried by the spring breeze.

The warmth of human life on this deep night was all contained in this celadon noodle bowl.

Song Qian Ji lowered his head to eat, chewing attentively.

Meng He Ze was bathed in a layer of soft moonlight, with a satisfied, calm smile on his face, as if full of hope for life and love for the entire world.

Where was any sign of losing control?

“Senior Brother Meng, are you alright?” Zhou Xiao Yun hesitantly asked, “Your injuries…”

Meng He Ze couldn’t be in trouble. He wasn’t just one person now; he was the hope and backbone of the entire outer sect.

“I’m going to treat my wounds right away,” Meng He Ze didn’t let her continue, smiling as he said: “Let’s go, we shouldn’t disturb Senior Brother Song’s rest.”

The disciples looked at each other in confusion, politely bowing to Song Qian Ji as they took their leave.

Meng He Ze was the last to exit the small courtyard.

After closing the vermilion door and turning around, his expression instantly turned cold.

As the group walked along the flower-lined path, reaching a distance where Song Qian Ji could neither hear nor be affected, Meng He Ze finally spoke:

“Were those six from Green Cliff below the platform earlier?”

Zhou Xiao Yun thought for a moment: “Yes, I did see them. Why?”

“Nothing,” Meng He Ze fell silent.

He felt that the matter wasn’t so simple.

The Six Worthy Ones of Green Cliff might be able to bribe his opponent. After all, the opponent came from a small sect and, despite having talent, was in desperate need of cultivation resources—risking everything for spirit stones was understandable.

But to bribe the officials at the side of the platform and tamper with the platform’s barrier formation might require direct authorization from Zhao Yu Ping of the Affairs Hall.

The Six Worthy Ones of Green Cliff were pushed to the front as pawns, while Zhao Yu Ping was responsible for the underhanded actions.

“What should we do tomorrow?” someone interrupted his thoughts, “After the next round ends, it will be time for the spectators to vote.”

The outer disciples looked worried.

Meng He Ze had been too fierce earlier, and every spectator on the sidelines was frightened.

The martial arts examination was also called an exhibition match—win hearts, win the world.

“All is not lost,” Meng He Ze said after thinking, “Although this match wasn’t pleasant to watch if managed properly, it could become a unique style, standing apart from others.”

“What do you mean?” Zhou Xiao Yun didn’t understand.

Meng He Ze suddenly asked: “Have you ever wondered why everyone thinks Miao Yan is the most beautiful when none of us have seen her? Where did her reputation for beauty come from?”

This was a question Song Qian Ji had once asked him. Later, he had thought about it a lot.

Everyone shook their heads in confusion, wondering what this had to do with Immortal Miao Yan.

Meng He Ze smiled: “Aesthetic preferences can be influenced and changed.”

His incredibly confident tone and demeanor affected the other disciples, who renewed their hope.

“Good, we won’t give up,” Zhou Xiao Yun said firmly, “Whatever needs to be done now, we’ll follow your lead.”

“And that would be… getting a good night’s sleep,” Meng He Ze said, “Don’t waste this beautiful moonlit night.”

Under the clear moon and gentle breeze, some were destined not to get a good night’s sleep.

Zhao Tai Ji sat in the great hall of Crimson Water Peak, his expression grave.

“A female cultivator with a large blade appeared out of nowhere?” he said coldly, “Tell me again.”

The one answering was drenched in cold sweat: “Indeed, it was a female cultivator. Her innate magical tool is a gold-threaded ring blade. Her blade technique was fierce and domineering, brutal and ruthless. She must be at least at the Golden Core realm or higher!”

The dozen or so people in the hall were not disciples of his Crimson Water Peak, but guards sent from the Zhao family.

Taking advantage of the Grand Conference, they entered Huawei Sect to await Zhao Tai Ji’s orders.

Zhao Yu Ping stood by his side, boldly suggesting: “Could it be that ‘that person’ has sent someone to secretly protect Song Qian Ji?”

Is someone from Xian Jian Chen?

Zhao Tai Ji had considered this possibility, but he quickly dismissed it.

After leaving Huawei Sect, Xian Jian Chen had no disciples and no friends.

No one was loyal to him, nor did he need anyone’s loyalty. Who could he send to protect Song Qian Ji?

The Calligraphy Saint had Green Cliff Academy, the Chess Ghost had Purple Cloud Temple, and the Zither Immortal had Celestial Sound Gate.

The Sword Saint only had a sword.

He came and went alone, his whereabouts elusive, and even his sword had not been shown in public for a long time.

If he truly regarded Song Qian Ji as his disciple, it would be better to keep him by his side than to send someone to protect him.

If not Xian Jian Chen, then who?

Zhao Tai Ji calculated carefully in his mind but still had no clue.

Because among the famous Golden Core cultivators in the cultivation world known for their domineering blade techniques, not one was a woman.

Unable to discern the other party’s background, he felt not only anger but also a hint of long-forgotten fear.

He even thought that if time could be turned back, he shouldn’t have drawn his sword in the Hall of Heaven and Earth.

At the very least, that killing strike shouldn’t have been aimed at Song Qian Ji.

Zhao Tai Ji closed his eyes briefly: “If we cannot resolve this matter, I will inform the family head. Before that, first, find out, if is there only one Golden Core cultivator by his side, or are there other formidable characters?”

Zhao Yu Ping was inwardly groaning. One Golden Core was already more than they could handle, how could they dare to face more?

Song Qian Ji, with such powerful backing, why did you still come to Huawei Sect as an outer disciple, and stay for three years?

Back then you were tormented without the ability to fight back, and now you’re dropping your disguise?

****

Wind passed through the bamboo forest, causing the bamboo leaves to rustle.

White gauze hung from all four sides of the bamboo pavilion. Moonlight shone through the floating curtains into the pavilion, casting Miao Yan’s shadow at a slant.

Flowers bloomed abundantly in the pavilion, rivaling the flower viewing party earlier in the day.

The silver lotus flower before her was even better than the one she had brought to the flower viewing party.

This was a pair of conjoined silver lotuses, two flowers blooming on one stem—a rare sight seen once in a hundred years.

Today, at the flower competition upstairs, each female cultivator displayed their most exquisite and rare flowers and plants.

Miao Yan hadn’t done so.

As a disciple of the Celestial Sound Gate, apart from playing the zither and composing music which required full effort, for other activities such as flower cultivation, tea art, and chess playing, she only needed to show nine-tenths of her ability, not needing to excel in everything.

Under the moonlight, each petal of the silver lotus sparkled with faint light, like countless tiny stars fallen into water.

—”If you like it, may I give it to you?”

—”No need.”

With this thought, Miao Yan picked up the golden scissors to trim flower branches, her fingertips moving slightly.

“Snip.”

One flower fell into the water.

The conjoined lotus now had only one flower, blooming in solitude.

Miao Yan put down the scissors, turned back to her desk, and scrutinized her zither by lamplight.

No matter what she had done during the day or how tired she was, she always practiced the zither after returning to her quarters.

Her master, Immortal Wang Shu, once said that among the younger generation of sound cultivators, she was the most hardworking and focused.

But Miao Yan enjoyed playing the zither, so she didn’t feel it was painful.

Playing the zither was wonderful, relaxing, and liberating. All the words that couldn’t be spoken, all the thoughts that couldn’t be acted upon, could be expressed through the zither’s sound.

She lowered her head to stroke the zither, directly expressing her feelings, and finding immediate relief.

The moon shone on the green bamboo as Immortal Wang Shu, accompanied by her maid, walked through the bamboo path.

Immortal Wang Shu was one hundred and twenty years old this year, but cultivators had techniques to maintain their appearance.

Time had left no trace on her; she remained beautiful and enchanting, with skin like congealed cream, so delicate it seemed a touch might break it.

With phoenix eyes and long eyebrows, high-piled cloud-like hair, her every movement carried a dignified air that young female cultivators lacked.

For someone of her status and strength, people no longer paid much attention to her appearance.

Immortal Wang Shu’s cultivation had reached a bottleneck, lacking just a bit of opportunity to advance to the Spirit Transformation realm.

But the two achievements she was most proud of in her life were, first, becoming the Zither Immortal’s disciple, and second, taking Miao Yan as her disciple.

When she arrived outside the bamboo pavilion, she heard the clear sounds of the zither, flowing like clouds and water, like a clear spring striking stones.

High mountains flowing water, a kindred spirit hard to find. It seemed Miao Yan wasn’t in a good mood, but she still played beautifully.

She raised her hand, signaling her maid to silently withdraw.

Wang Shu concealed her aura, ascended the pavilion alone, and quietly listened until Miao Yan finished a piece before lovingly calling out:

“Yan’er.”

Startled by the voice, Miao Yan rose and quickly went to meet her, filled with delight:

“Master, you’ve come!”

Immortal Wang Shu frowned: “You’re smiling too much!”

Her tone was stern, her gaze cold.

Miao Yan halted her steps, her smile froze, and her raised lips lowered slightly.

Immortal Wang Shu walked around Miao Yan, looking her up and down: “That’s better.”

After expressing her satisfaction, her eyes and eyebrows contained a smile, making one feel as if bathed in spring breeze:

“The first time your master saw you was also in this bamboo pavilion of Huawei Sect. You were still a little girl, as thin as a wild monkey. In the blink of an eye, so many years have passed.”

Miao Yan smiled faintly with lowered eyes: “Yes, Master.”

Miao Yan couldn’t laugh too broadly, or it would destroy the ethereal atmosphere and lose the clear, otherworldly quality.

She could also not smile at all. Because her facial features weren’t naturally sweet; rather, her mouth corners naturally turned downward. Once she lost her smile, her cheeks appeared thin, her bone structure prominent, and with her tall, slender figure, she gave off a sense of austerity and stubbornness.

Nothing perfect exists in the world, only perfect illusions.

Everything has a price.

“I’ve come this time accompanied by your Grand Master and your Senior Master,” Immortal Wang Shu gently took her hand, sitting down with her to talk, as intimate and approachable as if to a daughter.

Miao Yan was somewhat surprised: “Grand Master has personally come? Should this disciple visit tomorrow?”

“No need, you’ll see him on the day of the zither examination,” Immortal Wang Shu’s smile faded slightly: “Your Senior Master, after coming out of seclusion this time, also wants to take a disciple, so she’s come to the zither examination to see if there are any suitable candidates. Your Grand Master is accompanying her.”

Miao Yan’s Grand Master was the Zither Immortal.

The Zither Immortal had taken two personal disciples, so Immortal Wang Shu had a senior sister. By seniority, she was Miao Yan’s Senior Master.

But these two disciples had incompatible personalities and a cold relationship.

As the Zither Immortal grew older and gradually ceased to intervene in Celestial Sound Gate affairs, the two became increasingly at odds.

The Celestial Sound Gate was also divided into two factions.

Miao Yan knew that her master had always believed that receiving the Zither Immortal’s legacy was the opportunity for her advancement to the Spirit Transformation realm.

This time, with her Grand Master personally accompanying her Senior Master to find a disciple, showing preference for her Senior Master, her Master would certainly be displeased.

“Your master previously asked you to prepare a piece to play after the zither examination concludes. Have you prepared it?” Immortal Wang Shu asked.

“This disciple will do her best,” Miao Yan said cautiously.

“Not just do your best,” Immortal Wang Shu stared at her intently, “but give your all, your absolute all!”

No matter what the occasion, whenever Miao Yan played the zither, people would only remember Miao Yan, leaving no impression on other performers.

How could tiny grains of light compete with the brilliance of a bright pearl?

Wang Shu thought, at the zither examination, when everyone is overshadowed by Miao Yan, what disciple could my senior sister possibly take?

“This disciple will certainly give her all.”

Immortal Wang Shu said: “If my senior sister takes a personal disciple, according to our sect’s tradition, her disciple will be the senior disciple among your generation. In the future, when you meet that person, even if their cultivation is lower than yours, or they are younger than you, you must address them as ‘Senior Sister.'”

Miao Yan suddenly understood as she was most skilled at discerning her master’s intentions.

So she said: “I don’t need a Senior Sister.”

Immortal Wang Shu nodded with satisfaction: “The Celestial Sound Gate can only have one Miao Yan, and the cultivation world can only have one Miao Yan. Now, what piece have you prepared? Quickly play one for your master.”