Zanxing handed the flower in her palm to Qinghua Xianzi.

Qinghua Xianzi took it and looked down at the Biyi flower at her fingertips. This scene overlapped with the scene from that secret realm years ago, except the once blooming flower had now withered and faded, and the peerless divine maiden with snow-white skin and flower-like beauty now only had a wisp of remaining divine consciousness.

After all, things remained, but people had changed.

Zanxing looked at her and spoke: “So the appearance of ‘Qing E Nian Hua Gun’ had such a past connection.”

For cultivators, being able to create an original technique marked one as a one-in-ten-thousand genius within their sect. Qinghua Xianzi had always possessed outstanding spiritual roots, and Zanxing had assumed that Qinghua Xianzi compiled “Qing E Nian Hua Gun” to advance her cultivation to the next level. Only now, seeing the past events of this place in that flower, did she realize this technique was created from the beginning to remember her beloved.

Qinghua Xianzi’s gaze moved, and the Biyi flower disappeared from her hand. She raised her head and spoke indifferently: “It seems you have already comprehended quite a bit.”

“I dare not say comprehended,” Zanxing held the azure staff horizontally before her: “Just some feelings.”

She said: “Fairy, let us try once more.”

The bluish Panhua staff swung straight toward the white-clothed woman. The two long staffs collided, stirring up countless dust and smoke, even tearing open a crack in the surrounding chaos.

The staff techniques remained the same, but the mood while wielding the staff was completely different from before.

It was no longer desperately wanting to become stronger, nor impatiently trying to prove herself to everyone. Every place the staff tip danced carried traces of the past. Traces of supporting each other in the barren wilderness, traces of slowly building a thatched cottage at the foot of the stone mountain. Traces of walking into that warm light on a stormy night, traces of watching illusory fireworks light up in the distance under the Biyi flower tree.

Kick once, Two Men Carrying Mountain, steal a step, disturb with staff, strike with staff, Pull Grass to Find Snake, Split Mountain, Traveler Shouldering Load…

Flowers were staff techniques, trees were staff techniques, that pool of sweet water in the blue stone vat was staff techniques; lamps were staff techniques, rain was staff techniques, even the bald-tailed wild chicken strutting proudly in the courtyard was staff techniques.

When Qinghua Xianzi of years past practiced staff techniques alone on the Rainbow Terrace of Taiyan Sect, what kind of feelings did she harbor? When she planted that non-blooming Biyi flower tree in Xiaoyao Hall, did she ever feel a moment of bewilderment?

No one knew.

The beauty of Qing E Nian Hua – only the painter in the thatched cottage understood that moment’s beauty. And through all these years, the painter had long since vanished without a trace. Only the faded beauty painting hidden behind the wall faintly preserved fragments of the divine maiden’s former grace.

The long staff was like azure light, like phantoms, pressing forward step by step. The wind made the white-clothed woman’s dress flutter like flying clouds, her black hair scattered in the wind, making her face appear as beautiful as the moon.

Zanxing dodged the staff wind above her head, stole a step forward, and whispered: “If ‘Qing E Nian Hua Gun’ was created to remember someone from the past, what was the fairy thinking when she created these moves?”

A staff shadow shot from behind. Zanxing dodged sideways, reached out her hand, grasped the Panhua staff, and said: “If I were you, remembering all those past events, if there were attachments, I would surely hope for everything to start over, with the feeling of regaining what was lost.”

She gripped the staff with both hands and gently swung it toward the front.

That gentle swing carried the momentum of thunderous force.

“Jing Hua Shui Yue—”

Flower streams continuously poured from the staff tip, forming a mirror in the sky. The soft mirror rippled in layers like a clear lake, gradually revealing countless human figures.

That bald-tailed chicken, the excessively blue sky in the secret realm, the stream winding out from the stone mountain, the warm lights that always lit up at dusk in that thatched cottage, the pattering rain on rainy days, someone hiding in the inner room, lifting a brush to write line after line of gorgeous poetry.

“Gu Caiyu!” The woman’s voice carried three parts anger.

The person at the desk shook, hastily hiding the unfinished painting, then turned around. That face was blurry and unclear, only the beautiful robe could be seen, neat and exquisite, the hair ribbon slightly fluttering…

The flower stream from the staff tip, like memories that couldn’t be severed, quickly wrapped the azure staff layer by layer, erupting into a massive light pillar in the void.

“Crack—”

The azure staff broke into two pieces, falling to the ground with a crisp sound.

The sea of flowers and the illusions in the mirror all disappeared, everything returning to tranquility.

Zanxing withdrew her spirit artifact and looked at the woman before her: “You lost.”

Qinghua Xianzi raised her eyes to look at Zanxing.

From the initial emptiness to the later complexity, now there was relief and comfort in the fairy’s gaze. Her voice also became gentler as she said, “So you are the destined one.”

Zanxing didn’t understand.

Qinghua Xianzi bent down and picked up the azure staff broken in two from the ground, saying: “Many years ago, Senior Brother and I observed the stars at night and used divination to discover that a calamity would befall the mortal world twenty years later. Only the destined one could break this calamity. I divined that this place would be where you and I would meet, so I left a wisp of spiritual consciousness hidden in the painting, waiting for the destined one to come and receive the inheritance to overcome the heavenly tribulation.”

Wait, why did this sound so familiar? Zanxing shivered and was about to politely decline when Qinghua Xianzi had already struck her forehead with a palm.

That palm came fiercely. Zanxing was caught off guard and struck squarely, immediately feeling a flood-like spiritual tide surge into her mind. She heard Qinghua Xianzi’s voice ring in her ears: “You defeated me and comprehended ‘Qing E Nian Hua Gun’ completely, so you are the destined one. I will now pass on my lifetime’s heart techniques to you.”

No! Zanxing cried out inwardly. Although the original “Nine Heaven Summit” didn’t include this section about Qinghua Xianzi’s secret realm, looking at all cultivation novels, the destined one who saves the world must be the protagonist.

She was not the protagonist, yet had inexplicably stolen the opportunities and inheritance that belonged to the protagonist. She feared that once she left the secret realm, she would immediately encounter countless inexplicable “troubles.”

She had wanted to have a good talk with Qinghua Xianzi after defeating her, but who knew this fairy was an action-oriented person who didn’t even give her a chance to speak before forcibly beginning the inheritance.

In a daze, countless things flooded into Zanxing’s mind. Those golden characters were densely packed, imprinting themselves in her mind from far to near. She felt as if she had become a small stream receiving endless waves from the ocean, or like she had transformed into a massive cauldron with countless spiritual herbs and fruits being poured into her boundless sea of consciousness.

Among those golden characters, occasionally, some fragmentary scenes like memories were mixed in, then quickly turned to smoke as her sea of consciousness slowly filled up. Zanxing didn’t know how deep Qinghua Xianzi’s techniques and cultivation were, but at this moment, she was astounded by everything her sea of consciousness was accepting.