This sword dao competition would be held in three months, taking place at the Yunxiao Sect—their home ground.
If Su Zhuyi wanted to participate, she only had three months left to cultivate her sword heart. However, being Luo Ying’s disciple, obtaining a spot would be effortless based on that identity alone. But if she couldn’t even use a sword by then, she’d lose not only the Gujian Sect’s face but also Luo Ying’s reputation as the world’s foremost sword cultivator.
Sect Master Duan Linshu looked at Su Zhuyi, and as he looked, he thought: forget it, at least she has a pretty face—maybe everyone would be too busy looking at her face to care about her swordsmanship.
Luo Ying herself was beautiful, and the female disciple she’d taken was even more stunning. Clearly all female cultivators in this world looked quite good, each with their own characteristics, but placing them together, one could spot her in a crowd at a glance. Her features and contours were perfect in every aspect—truly heaven’s favor.
Duan Linshu entered to visit Luo Ying, seeing that her complexion was good and feeling relieved. After instructing her to rest well, the sect master descended the mountain. Before leaving, he greeted Su Zhuyi, but she sat before the stone tablet, completely ignoring him. He said nothing, shook his head, and left, still wondering about the relationship between Qin Jianglan and Su Zhuyi. Could they be childhood sweethearts, and she mistakenly thought he was dead? It sparked the imagination.
Su Zhuyi stared blankly at the stone tablet for a while.
Honestly, when she’d asked Qinghe and learned there was no person named Qin Jianglan, she truly thought Qin Jianglan had sacrificed himself to the Liuguang Mirror, so the person was gone.
In her previous life, she’d been somewhat attracted to Qin Jianglan. After realizing this, she’d kept him in her heart—the type she’d occasionally think about, pulling out memories to reminisce. This person, like his Zhuxin Curse, was carved into her heart. And placing such feelings on a dead person was quite suitable for someone like her—dead people wouldn’t change their hearts, wouldn’t have conflicts of interest with her, wouldn’t obstruct her path, wouldn’t suddenly betray her with a backstab. So even though she’d realized these years that she had some lingering attachment to Old Dog Qin from her previous life, she hadn’t taken it too seriously. After all, she was so busy she didn’t have much time to reminisce about him.
But it turned out she’d been overthinking everything, taking herself too seriously.
Thinking this way was truly embarrassing. Just then, a fruit appeared out of thin air beside her, offered to her.
Su Zhuyi took it and bit once, then directly smashed it against the stone tablet. Red fruit juice stained the tablet, like blood flowing down and along the carved name.
“Big sister, don’t you like eating it?” A hand appeared first, then a body and head emerged. Little Skull now always kept half his body hidden—if he left Luoxue Peak for other peaks, he could scare people to death. Fortunately, he was very obedient and well-behaved, never running around or appearing before outsiders.
“It’s quite tasty. I just wanted him to taste it too.” Su Zhuyi pointed at the name on the tablet. Her mood had already calmed when she said this, but pointing at the name while speaking made her heart inexplicably ache. Even if Qin Jianglan was indeed Qin Jianglan, as long as he had no memories of his previous life, he was no longer himself—it could be considered death, too.
“Who is Qin Jianglan?” Little Skull asked again.
“A very handsome person.” Su Zhuyi pondered briefly and only replied with this. Handsome, with a good figure and firm, powerful muscles… the rest was inappropriate for children and unsuitable to tell Little Skull.
“Can I grow into a very handsome person in the future?” Little Skull looked at Su Zhuyi with anticipation. Su Zhuyi nodded, “You’ll be even more handsome than him, but it will take a very long time—don’t be impatient.” For Little Skull to gain a physical body, aside from the evil method of feeding him others’ flesh and bones like corpse refinement, the only way Su Zhuyi could think of was possession.
However, Little Skull was raised as a Mountain River Spirit with an incomparably powerful primordial spirit. Finding a physical body that could contain his spirit for possession wasn’t easy, so he could only return to his own body—that skeletal frame. Possession required destroying the original body’s primordial spirit, which Little Skull’s character made completely impossible. The chance of coincidentally encountering a recently deceased great master? Even lower.
So honestly, Su Zhuyi really didn’t know how to make that skeleton grow flesh, but after ten years together, she couldn’t bear to completely disappoint him. If disappointment became despair and despair generated negative energy and resentment, she couldn’t control him. So Su Zhuyi gave a vague answer.
“Mm, I’m not impatient—I have big sister with me,” Wu’er spoke, then hid his form again. “Since Qin Jianglan also likes eating this fruit, I’ll go gather more and bring him some daily. I also need to pick plum blossoms for big sister…”
He ran off while talking. Su Zhuyi stood and shrugged slightly, went to her room to fetch an ordinary iron sword, then sat hugging the sword at the tip of the Gujian Sect’s great sword.
Sword cultivators reaching advanced levels had a realm called “no sword in hand, sword in heart.”
The Gujian Sect went against this, requiring cultivators to first nurture sword hearts—with sword in heart, any weapon in hand could become a sword. Others couldn’t learn this cultivation method because the Gujian Sect ancestors left behind a Sword Heart Stone that helped sect disciples first develop sword hearts.
As for why this succeeded, it was an ancestral tradition—no one knew the reason. Su Zhuyi, despite being knowledgeable about heaven and earth, couldn’t see through this Sword Heart Stone either. The cultivation world’s ancestors were truly powerful, though the denser spiritual energy and more abundant cultivation resources of their era were also a factor.
Regarding sword hearts, many cultivators had different descriptions. Some said their sword heart was red, others yellow—all varieties existed. Luo Ying’s sword heart was silver. She didn’t know Qinghe’s, but Su Zhuyi felt that if she cultivated one, it might be black.
Su Zhuyi sat hugging the sword all night, seeming to dream. In the dream, someone slashed at her with a sword. She immediately swung her iron sword to block, but before the iron sword touched that flying sword, a jade-green sword qi emanated from her body, directly shattering the flying sword into scattered starlight. Those fine light specks filled the entire space like fireflies. She instinctively reached out to grasp them, then shivered all over, her chin resting on the sword hilt.
She woke! She’d fallen asleep hugging the sword at the sword tip, feet dangling outside, awakened by the freezing wind.
But mission accomplished—she’d cultivated a sword heart. It was green. That sword heart seemed related to Songfeng Sword Qi, but Su Zhuyi didn’t think much about it. Having one was enough for now—she didn’t plan to truly become a sword cultivator anyway. A token effort would suffice.
On the way back, Su Zhuyi saw Qinghe’s door open—he’d returned. Passing his doorway, she sniffed but detected no scent.
Naturally, Luo Ying had awakened yesterday. Given his devoted concern for his master, he should have returned when Luo Ying woke, yet Qinghe had delayed until this morning. This meant he’d bathed and used incense before returning. Who knew which river he’d bathed in, whether he’d polluted an entire waterway?
“Junior Sister.”
Su Zhuyi hadn’t planned to greet Qinghe—they’d barely communicated before, and their fellowship wasn’t deep. But unexpectedly, Qinghe emerged from his room. Dressed in snow-white robes, stepping into the morning’s first sunlight, his brows and eyes were touched with faint gold. That warm color softened much of his sharp features.
Previously, Su Zhuyi hadn’t understood why Luo Ying wore white year-round, or why Qinghe wore black outside but white upon returning. Since coming to Luoxue Peak, she understood.
In her previous life, she’d loved dazzling red and bright purple, feeling those colors suited her. She’d previously had someone at Zang Peak buy a red dress from outside. The day after receiving it, she’d worn the bright red gown up the mountain to gather herbs, only to be chased screaming by a pack of high-level spirit beasts. Without Little Skull’s help, she might have been bitten to death by spirit beasts from her back mountain.
On the snow-white Luoxue Peak, a red blob was too conspicuous. The mountain hid many high-level spirit beasts—going up like that was provoking them.
The result was that Su Zhuyi never wore anything but white on Luoxue Peak. Daily dressed extremely plainly, at most adorning her hair with a small flower, lacking any of her previous life’s demoness style. Thinking about it was somewhat disheartening.
Su Zhuyi glanced at the current Qinghe—quite handsome. If it were her previous self, she’d scheme for personal gain, but this lifetime, she didn’t need to. Firstly, no need to seduce; secondly, he was immune.
“Something wrong?” Generally when Qinghe spoke, it was definitely about Luo Ying. Su Zhuyi understood this clearly.
“You’re participating in the sword dao competition?”
Eh, could she have guessed wrong?
“Mm.” Su Zhuyi nodded.
“Practice Tianxuan Nine Swords to the third level.” At this point, Qinghe frowned. “Foundation Establishment Great Perfection—directly charge toward the Golden Core realm. If you don’t go, fine. If you go, you cannot lose Master’s face.” Master was the world’s foremost sword cultivator. Her disciples could only be first among the younger generation. He’d achieved this, and now that Su Zhuyi wanted to participate, she must also be first. If the world’s greatest sword cultivator’s disciple couldn’t even use a sword, Qinghe could imagine what people would say.
He wouldn’t tolerate anyone speaking ill of his master.
Three months to practice Tianxuan Nine Swords to the third level?
Though Su Zhuyi didn’t practice swordsmanship, she understood the Gujian Sect’s Tianxuan Nine Swords well. Even Qinghe had taken three years to reach the third level. Now she was expected to reach it in three months? Plus charge toward the Golden Core realm?
Su Zhuyi glanced at him sideways, too lazy to respond, and walked straight ahead toward her room.
Unexpectedly, several sword qi flew from behind. Su Zhuyi used Shadowless Trace footwork to dodge, then said, “Qinghe, I’m holding your secret. I advise you to restrain yourself.”
You still have the Longquan Sword. If word gets out, not only you but Luo Ying and even the entire Gujian Sect would be implicated. Mind your own damn business.
“You have ghost creatures—we’re even.” Qinghe sent several more sword qi, faster than before.
Su Zhuyi hastily circulated spiritual energy, her footwork accelerating. But the sword qi came overwhelmingly. Su Zhuyi’s current strength was weaker than Qinghe’s—unable to dodge completely, she was immediately cut in several places. Qinghe practiced swordsmanship before her, saying, “This is the first level. Learn it, and you can exit the sword formation.”
After demonstrating once, he prepared to leave. Before departing, he raised his hand to create another barrier. “Master just awakened—her spiritual consciousness is still weak and can’t detect you. Don’t think of waiting for her rescue.” Just as he finished speaking, Qinghe’s expressionless face showed surprise. He truly hadn’t expected this junior sister to emerge so quickly.
She’d already learned the first level of Tianxuan Nine Swords.
The first thing she did upon exiting was shout, “Master, Senior Brother is bullying me!” Tears streamed down her face, blood stained her clothes—such an appearance truly left no room for explanation. Qinghe startled and turned to look, only to discover his body stiffening—a high-level immobilization charm had been stuck on him.
There was no master behind him—Su Zhuyi’s deception. She’d found his weakness: just mentioning his master would distract him.
“Though my cultivation is inferior to yours, I’m no soft persimmon for you to knead at will.” Su Zhuyi laughed cheerfully twice. “How about it? You stabbed me with so many swords just now—I’ll return them one by one. Courtesy demands reciprocity.” Even though he was nominally her senior brother, she wouldn’t show the slightest mercy.
One was the previous life’s fierce, evil extermination demon.
One was the previous life’s infamous Heart-Eating Demoness.
Both were now Luo Ying’s disciples.
She’d awakened, just finished a cycle of meditation and breath regulation, hadn’t caught her breath yet, when she saw her two disciples outside in sword-drawn confrontation. Luo Ying looked at them both and commanded softly, “Kneel.”
She remained beautiful. But she only had one arm—half her sleeve hung empty.
Qinghe’s eyes dimmed. “Master, this disciple knows his error.”
“Is this how I taught you swordsmanship?”
Though clearly under an immobilization charm, Qinghe’s body slowly knelt, his voice trembling. “No.”
Back then, Master had patiently taught him repeatedly. Whenever he said he didn’t understand clearly, she’d continue demonstrating, never showing impatience. He felt that when Master danced with her sword, with snow falling everywhere, she seemed to dance among the snowflakes.
“This disciple knows his error and willingly accepts punishment.” With that, several sword wounds suddenly appeared on Qinghe’s body, self-inflicted. Su Zhuyi counted: ten sword wounds total, exactly matching the cuts on her body, same positions, not one different.
Seeing this, Su Zhuyi also knelt, saying directly, “This disciple also erred.” Qinghe was harsh even on himself—her anger was vented. Before Master, she’d still give him some face. What he cared most about was Luo Ying’s attitude toward him.
Luo Ying remained silent, then softly recited a heart-clearing mantra.
That familiar melody arose, and Su Zhuyi thought of Qin Jianglan again. The fire in her heart gradually extinguished, with slight melancholy. But just then, she heard Little Skull’s panicked cries.
Su Zhuyi couldn’t care about much else and flew directly toward Little Skull. She could now fly on artifacts, though she rarely did because her natal magical treasure was a hoe. Despite reforging it over ten years, it remained essentially a hoe. Flying on it looked too ridiculous, but now Su Zhuyi couldn’t care about that.
She flew to Luoxue Peak’s mountainside and saw the yellow dog barking frantically. Though they’d all stayed on Luoxue Peak these ten years, Su Zhuyi had never seen it once. Little Skull had hidden it well—since she disliked it, Su Zhuyi truly hadn’t glimpsed it even once.
“Wu’er!”
“Big sister!” Wu’er’s feet had disappeared, his body floating midair, looking terrified. A formation lay beneath him. Seeing it, Su Zhuyi remembered his previous disappearance and quickly comforted him, “Don’t panic. Is your little uncle looking for you again?”
Over ten years had passed. Little Skull ran all over the mountains daily, nearly forgetting that little uncle. Hearing Su Zhuyi mention it, he suddenly understood. “Ah, is little uncle looking for me?”
“Ah, big sister, I didn’t prepare a gift for little uncle!” Little Skull nearly cried from anxiety. When he’d returned before, little uncle had given him a green ribbon, which he still wore wrapped around his ribs, tying a beautiful bow daily.
Su Zhuyi thought briefly, removed a garnet flower from her hair ornament, and tossed it to him. “This will do.”
Your little uncle gave you green leaves, so you give him a red flower in return. Last time, Little Skull had disappeared instantly—why was this disappearance so slow? Su Zhuyi found it strange but didn’t think much, only saying, “Have fun.”
Once familiar, twice easy—she was used to it.
Little Skull smiled but turned to look at the yellow dog, saying, “Big sister, don’t hit Xiaoxiao.”
Xiaoxiao was the dog’s name.
Indeed, Su Zhuyi had planned to slaughter the dog once Little Skull left. She turned to look at the big yellow dog, meeting its small black eyes quietly watching her, wet with many tears. Earlier, thinking Little Skull was in trouble, the dog had howled while crying…
This was very different from the dog in her memory—those terrifying eyes glowing in the darkness had filled her childhood nightmares.
Little Skull only had a head left, still shouting, “Big sister, don’t hit Xiaoxiao.”
The yellow dog curled up on the ground. Though now tall and mighty, it tried to ball itself up.
“Mm.” She nodded, agreeing.
…
True Spirit Realm.
Qin Jianglan had spent ten years gathering summoning formation materials again. Unexpectedly, this time it took even longer, indicating the ghost creature had become stronger than before. Being stronger meant longer summoning time. It was a ghost creature raised by Su Zhuyi—the stronger it became, the safer she’d be. These years, he’d sensed no unusual movement from the Zhuxin Curse.
Gradually, Little Skull appeared in the formation.
Seeing Qin Jianglan, it immediately rushed over happily, offering the small red flower. “Little uncle, this is a return gift.”
The small red flower carried Su Zhuyi’s scent. Qin Jianglan’s lips curved slightly in a faint smile. He needed to accelerate his cultivation speed and leave here soon.
“Did she send any message for me?” Expending great effort to summon Little Skull again was only for these few words.
But Little Skull didn’t answer; instead, he undressed himself to show the green ribbon on his ribs. “Little uncle, I’ve been wearing the green ribbon you gave me. Big sister had me tie it here—Brother Qinghe taught me the bow knot.”
Qin Jianglan: “…”
Qinghe? That Qinghe from Gujian Sect who’d once been his equal? How had Su Zhuyi ended up with Qinghe? When Su Zhuyi returned, she was only five years old. Could it be that in this life, Qinghe had saved her and even taught them to tie bows? Qin Jianglan frowned, feeling uneasy.
“Little uncle, big sister said this can’t be worn on the head—wearing it on the head means wearing a green hat.”
Qin Jianglan was speechless again, his mouth twitching. He still wore a tender green hair ribbon like bamboo leaves, which he’d reforged after giving one to Little Skull. Now it made his face look somewhat green.
The green ribbon had been on Little Skull all along—could Su Zhuyi not know he was still here?
His eyes darkened as he asked quietly, “Has she mentioned me?”
His face showed no excess emotion, appearing calm, yet his eyelashes trembled slightly with faint panic in his voice. “Has she ever mentioned Qin Jianglan?”
“Little uncle, your name is Qin Jianglan? Yes! We have a tablet at home with Qin Jianglan carved on it.” Speaking of Qin Jianglan, Little Skull had endless things to say. “Big sister lights three incense sticks morning and evening and gives the tablet red fruits. Brother Qinghe asked if Qin Jianglan was the big sister’s father. Big sister said yes…”
Qin Jianglan: “…”
His heart felt gripped tightly by her hands, making breathing difficult for a moment.
“Yes, like second parents.”
His emotional state fluctuated like rising and falling tides, turbulent and churning. Qin Jianglan looked into the distance, his eyes flickering. After a long while, he took Wu’er’s hand. “No rush—tell me slowly.”
“Big sister also said…”
“She said Qin Jianglan is a very handsome person.” Little Skull said sweetly. “I want to grow up to be as handsome as little uncle, too.”
Cool breeze, moon shadows on waves.
A gentle wind smoothed the wrinkles in his heart. Walking against the light, faint smiles hid in shadows, like night-blooming cereus appearing but an instant, yet stunning enough to eclipse even bright moonlight.
“Wu’er.”
“Mm?”
“I miss her very much.”
“Miss who?”
“Big sister.”
“Ah, perfect—me too!” Little Skull answered innocently.
Qin Jianglan: “…”