Su Zhuyi returned to Luoxue Peak.
She first refined a furnace of pills, then made two straw dolls, but still couldn’t achieve the effect she wanted. Su Zhuyi casually threw the straw dolls into the corner.
Substitute straw dolls were a double-edged tool for many people. First, whatever cultivation level one had, they could only use corresponding straw dolls—the person’s cultivation had to match the doll’s aura to serve as a substitute.
This meant Qi Condensation stage cultivators could only use the lowest-grade dolls. Although higher-grade dolls were more reliable, carrying them was useless as they couldn’t transfer danger at all. Usually, when Qi Condensation cultivators faced life-or-death situations, even two lives often weren’t enough—the doll would shatter, and the person would die too. Additionally, low and mid-grade substitute dolls required fusing one’s hair during crafting. Without a trustworthy artifact refiner, most people didn’t dare hand over their hair, fearing curses. High-grade substitute dolls didn’t need hair, but weren’t affordable or usable by ordinary people.
Su Zhuyi’s current cultivation was Foundation Establishment Great Perfection. She had two high-grade substitute dolls that Qinghe had Zang Peak disciples deliver years ago, but only after receiving them did she remember that, without Nascent Soul cultivation, she couldn’t use them at all.
She could only use mid-grade substitute dolls. But she always felt insecure, constantly trying to make mid-grade dolls achieve high-grade effects. She’d read in books that some substitute dolls would develop doll hearts when crafted, becoming like living beings. Such dolls could even deceive Heaven itself and avoid tribulation lightning. So Su Zhuyi had been making straw dolls for ten whole years—this skill could earn spirit stones now. Her storage pouch was stuffed with dolls, yet she hadn’t crafted one with a doll heart. Fortunately, she didn’t need to find materials herself, so spending didn’t hurt.
After failing with the dolls, Su Zhuyi began cultivating again. Recently, she only practiced external techniques, not daring to cultivate mental methods lest she accidentally break through. She hadn’t learned swordsmanship either, but had mastered Blazing Palm to perfection. Her footwork, Shadowless Trace, was completely mastered, and she’d thoroughly grasped techniques like Great Grappling Art, Ice Snow Connecting Heaven, and Flower Transplanting. Though she hadn’t learned swords, among the Gujian Sect’s younger generation, absolutely none could match her.
After cultivation, evening arrived. Su Zhuyi stepped out as the last rays of sunlight painted the sky. She replaced the red plum blossoms in Luo Ying’s room and relit the incense. While lighting it, she glanced at Luo Ying on the bed—her complexion was good, and the sword wounds had healed. It seemed Qinghe had done well in dispelling the baleful qi these years. Luo Ying would wake soon, and he should return soon too.
Leaving the room, Su Zhuyi saw a sword shadow flying up from below. Seeing it was the sect master, she bowed. “Su Zhuyi of Luoxue Peak greets the Sect Master.”
Luoxue Peak was the forbidden ground of the Gujian Sect. Only the sect master could approach their thatched houses without restriction. Currently, only the sect master knew that Luo Ying was gravely injured and Qinghe had traveled far seeking healing elixirs for his master.
He’d examined that wound and been shocked. Luo Ying’s body contained baleful qi, as if evil had entered her body. The qi continuously devoured her life force, preventing healing. Remembering when the Dong Fushang Sect and Suyue Sect came claiming Qinghe’s sword strike showed he’d fallen into the demonic path, the lie was exposed by Qinghe’s clean, pure sword intent. He’d been quite angry then, but after seeing Luo Ying’s wounds, Duan Linshu fell silent.
He felt that sword strike was dealt by Luo Ying. Qinghe learned swordsmanship from Luo Ying—his techniques and intent were identical to his master’s. Luo Ying was famously righteous, so they only thought of Qinghe, never considering Luo Ying.
However, he could see Luo Ying hadn’t fallen to the demonic path but was tainted by a fierce, baleful weapon. She must have been corroded while suppressing evil. After confirming this, Duan Linshu felt extremely heavy-hearted. He was powerless against Luo Ying’s wounds, only hoping she’d recover well on Luoxue Peak with its abundant spiritual energy and ancestral sword intent nourishment.
As for Qinghe seeking immortal pills to dispel baleful qi, Duan Linshu held little hope. Regardless, since Luoxue Peak’s Sword Heart Stone was the Gujian Sect’s foundation, he had to constantly monitor Luo Ying’s condition. This secret must be carefully hidden—no one could know Luo Ying was gravely injured and slow to heal, nor that baleful qi plagued her.
“Little Zhu, how has your master been recently?”
“Alright, I suppose.” Su Zhuyi answered.
“Has your senior brother mentioned when he’ll return?”
Su Zhuyi shook her head. “No.”
Duan Linshu felt a headache coming. “Little Zhu, how is your sword heart comprehension?” Both master and senior brother were so capable, natural sword wielders—why had the junior sister become like this, completely clueless about the sword dao? Living daily on Luoxue Peak, yet unable to sense even a trace of sword heart.
Su Zhuyi lowered her head, looking distressed. “I haven’t comprehended it yet…”
Duan Linshu sighed, feeling his brain ache. The Gujian Sect’s Tianxuan Nine Swords manual was based on the sword heart foundation. Sect disciples first nurtured swords—with some sword heart, they could learn techniques. But with none at all, she couldn’t even perform the first level of Tianxuan Swordplay.
Among the world’s sword cultivation sects, sword dao competitions were held every thirty years, with the Gujian Sect and Yunxiao Sect participating most. Thirty years ago, Qinghe single-handedly overwhelmed all Yunxiao Sect young cultivators, letting the Gujian Sect hold their heads high. But thirty years later, the Gujian Sect had no presentable newcomers while the Yunxiao Sect produced a brilliant talent reportedly superior to Qinghe.
Disciple sword competitions were age-divided: under one hundred, one hundred to three hundred, and over three hundred years. If Qinghe didn’t return, they’d likely face total defeat. When new disciples selected swords at the Sword Tomb, they’d be at a disadvantage.
“The Yunxiao Sect has produced a Qin Jianglan this time—only slightly older than you, already at Foundation Establishment mid-stage. His Canglang Sword Art has reached the fourth level, and reportedly, he’ll soon comprehend his sword intent. This sword competition will likely see us lose badly.” Duan Linshu sighed.
The Yunxiao Sect stood above the four great sects as the world’s foremost sect—naturally, recruiting more talented disciples was reasonable. But since the Gujian Sect produced Luo Ying and Qinghe, their reputation had risen with the tide. Losing too badly now would be quite embarrassing.
But this couldn’t be helped—one couldn’t demand too much.
Duan Linshu sighed wistfully, adding, “For some reason, that boy’s name sounds familiar.” Only after speaking did he glance at Su Zhuyi, seeing her wide-eyed and dazed. Curiously, he asked, “What, you know that boy?” His gaze passed Su Zhuyi to the stone tablet behind her. Duan Linshu’s eyes widened too—no wonder it seemed familiar. Those three neat characters carved on the tablet were precisely “Qin Jianglan”!
Su Zhuyi had always been well-behaved, speaking to the sect master with lowered head in a properly intimidated, obedient manner. Now she suddenly raised her head, emanating an aura that surprised even Duan Linshu—he could sense faint pressure, as if the obedient little girl had suddenly changed faces.
“You said how old is that Qin Jianglan now?”
“Around seventeen or eighteen, I suppose. He’s only Foundation Establishment stage, but held his own against the Yunxiao Sect’s Golden Core stage Xu Lingfeng. Though if your senior brother doesn’t return this time, Xu Lingfeng will take first place in the over-three-hundred age bracket.” Duan Linshu met her gaze directly and answered carefully.
Seventeen or eighteen—how was this possible? Su Zhuyi lowered her head, her aura immediately dissipating. She murmured, “How is this possible?”
The Yunxiao Sect’s Qin Jianglan was over three hundred years older than her. So she’d given him the nickname “Old Dog Qin”—”old” because he was three hundred years her senior, “dog”. After all, she most hated dogs. She’d called him this happily, shouting it in his ear daily until eventually just calling “Old Dog Qin” would make him turn his head or glance sideways, essentially accepting the nickname himself.
Qin Jianglan, Xu Lingfeng, and Qinghe were the same age, yet now he’d become the same age as her?
She’d thought he had become a sacrifice, burning incense for him three times daily, morning and evening. Turns out he was born three hundred years later? But how was this possible? Wasn’t the Liuguang Mirror time reversal? Could it rewrite life and destiny? Su Zhuyi’s mind was confused.
She suddenly looked up. “Sect Master, I want to participate in this sword competition.”
Gujian Sect disciples couldn’t leave the mountain privately within a hundred years of entry—there were formations, barriers, and strict gatekeepers. Su Zhuyi had originally wanted to sneak out and look around but found it impossible and gave up. But participating in such competitions was different.
“You have no sword heart.” Duan Linshu sighed. He knew Su Zhuyi’s cultivation wasn’t poor—she’d reached Foundation Establishment now—but subconsciously felt her cultivation was built up with pills and spirit stones. After all, Luoxue Peak’s monthly resource consumption was substantial, with several peak masters expressing dissatisfaction. Using so many cultivation resources, failing to reach Foundation Establishment would be unreasonable. Her fear of death was also famous—even he’d heard rumors. Imagining her in a sword competition, she’d probably go weak-kneed upon taking the stage.
“I’ll have one soon.” Su Zhuyi answered. Though shorter than the sect master, she tilted her head slightly, gazing at him with large, watery eyes. That look made even Duan Linshu reluctant to refuse.
Duan Linshu: “…”
He frowned. “This must wait for your master to awaken before deciding. Gujian Sect rules have always been thus—though I’m sect master, I can’t interfere with Luoxue Peak matters.” Direct refusal seemed inappropriate, so Duan Linshu found a good excuse, tactfully indicating he couldn’t let her participate. Ridiculous—losing wasn’t shameful, but fainting from fright on stage would be!
Unexpectedly, Su Zhuyi added, “She’ll wake soon.”
Just then, a calm voice came from inside: “You want to go?”
“Mm.”
“If you want to go, then go.”
Luo Ying had awakened. These ten years, she’d intermittently awakened several times. Recently, though her eyes hadn’t opened, she’d sensed the outside world as consciousness returned and her dantian and consciousness sea gradually recovered. Qin Jianglan was her heart’s knot. Luo Ying knew—she knew that after lighting calming incense for her daily, Su Zhuyi would burn incense before Qin Jianglan’s tablet, occasionally muttering for a while. Only then did her expression show a strange vitality Luo Ying had never experienced—anger or laughter, emotions visible.
So regarding this matter, Luo Ying wouldn’t constrain her. If she wanted to go, then go.
Su Zhuyi had long noticed changes in Luo Ying, knowing she should wake soon, though she hadn’t expected such perfect timing.
Since Luo Ying had awakened, Qinghe should return soon, too.
The returning Qinghe should be quite… aromatic.
When she and Qinghe went to the sword competition together, if that Qin Jianglan was real, better have her senior brother knock him unconscious and bring him back. If not real, Su Zhuyi’s eyes darkened—she’d make him die very unpleasantly.