The next day was a clear one.

Gufeng Mountain had distinct seasons. Once early spring arrived, it was as if the snow covering the entire mountain melted overnight. When one looked again, it had become various shades of green.

The rainbow colors of Chuhong Terrace were more vibrant than usual, with five colors reflecting and interplaying amid swirling clouds. Among the rich peach blossoms and brilliant plum flowers, beside the waterfall, someone was practicing with a spear.

On his tea-white brocade robe, the red peony patterns were vivid and dripping with color, making the young man appear even more handsome and distinguished. As his silver long spear danced, peach blossoms fluttered down, mixing with his crimson hair ribbon. Yellow orioles sang and laughed in the trees, distant mountain light filtered through the mist, making even time itself seem lovely.

Hearing footsteps, Gu Baiying paused his movements and turned around.

Zanxing waved at him: “Martial Uncle!”

His gaze fell on the Panhua Stick at Zanxing’s waist, and his brow furrowed slightly: “Why are you still using that stick?”

The Panhua Stick had broken in half during the fight with the mirage demon. After returning to the Taiyan Sect, Martial Uncle Yueqin, who was skilled in forging spirit artifacts, had helped repair it. Though it could still be used, it looked worn and shabby, hardly beautiful. However, Zanxing couldn’t draw a single weapon from the spirit artifact treasury, and since she used a staff, she couldn’t find a more suitable spirit artifact for the time being, so she had to make do with it.

“Master said he would find a more suitable staff for me, but staff are rare to begin with,” Zanxing said. “Let’s not talk about that for now. Have you thought about how to teach me illusion arts?”

Gu Baiying glanced at her: “What do you want to learn illusion arts for?”

Zanxing thought that knowing magic was such a prideful thing, but she couldn’t say this to Gu Baiying. After thinking for a moment, she answered: “In this life, having more skills means you won’t starve. That mirage demon knew illusion arts and could even deal with cultivators from the sect. If I could cultivate illusion arts to perfection, it might come in handy during fights in the future—it might even become my trump card.”

In this world full of masters, with the “Heavenly Way” eyeing her covetously, if she couldn’t fight head-on in life-or-death situations, perhaps she could use illusion arts to escape.

“Using illusion arts as a trump card,” Gu Baiying said disdainfully. “Don’t say you’re a Taiyan Sect disciple when you go out.”

“What’s wrong with illusion arts?” Zanxing argued with conviction. “In life-or-death situations, using wisdom is more useful than brute force.”

Too lazy to argue with her, Gu Baiying gestured for her to follow him to the waterfall beside Chuhong Terrace: “Illusion arts require cultivating spiritual power. Most cultivators who practice spiritual power are talisman masters, like Third Senior Brother. Very few people use spiritual power to practice illusion arts. Cultivators are different from great demons—their spiritual power is limited and cannot create illusions of large objects, let alone cities.”

“Then what’s the highest level that cultivators can reach when practicing illusion arts? Martial Uncle, the flower tree in your hall—how strong spiritual power does that require?” Zanxing asked sincerely.

“Cultivators who practice illusion arts can mostly create illusions of flowers, birds, insects, and fish. At most, they can create illusions of living people—this also depends on the strength of their spiritual power. Creating the illusion of the paired-wing flower tree in Xiaoyao Hall isn’t difficult—the challenge is maintaining the tree’s appearance for a long time.” Gu Baiying answered seriously: “Spiritual power is much harder to cultivate than Yuanli, and the rewards don’t match the effort invested. Using your cultivated spiritual power to practice illusion arts is like wasting natural resources.”

“Everyone has their ideas,” Zanxing was persistent. “I don’t think this is wasting resources.”

Gu Baiying was speechless. After a moment, he said, “Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Concentrate and visualize what you want to create an illusion of in your mind. Don’t think of other things, don’t let your mind wander, and you’ll naturally sense a flow like Yuanli passing through your mind.”

Though Zanxing felt his teaching method was rather crude, she still obediently closed her eyes as he instructed and concentrated on visualizing.

“Don’t get distracted,” he scolded. “When your spirit becomes calm and still, you’ll enter the Divine Origin Realm in your mind.”

Zanxing tried hard to ignore the person beside her.

“Do you feel anything?”

Zanxing: “Yes.”

“What do you feel?”

“Like constipation.”

Gu Baiying: “……”

He pressed his forehead, saying with a headache, “Your spiritual power is weak—you can’t even enter the Divine Origin Realm. I don’t know how you shattered the illusion in Wufan City.”

Zanxing opened her eyes, unconvinced: “Martial Uncle, is this how you teach? Why don’t you demonstrate for me first?”

Gu Baiying glanced at her, his expression quite proud: “Then watch carefully.”

He walked to the edge of Chuhong Terrace and closed his eyes. The waterfall was like pearls, splashing densely on the water stream, breaking into silky threads. Zanxing suddenly had the illusion that time had stopped for a moment.

In an instant, the flowing waterfall became crystal clear strand by strand, and from bottom to top, whiteness spread inch by inch, freezing into ice. The chattering orioles flapped their wings and flew away. The peach trees blooming vibrantly by the stream quickly faded from their red color, becoming dim, withered, and yellowed. The rich colors were covered by snow white, changing from spring to winter, from bustling to quiet, as if in just one breath.

Zanxing was stunned.

Was this an illusion of the arts?

His voice came from the side: “Illusion arts must be maintained with spiritual power. This transformation can be maintained for one to two hours. Since you can’t even touch the Divine Origin Realm now, don’t think about maintaining it for long.”

Not hearing Zanxing’s response, Gu Baiying frowned slightly: “Yang Zanxing?”

A clear voice suddenly rang in his ear, accompanied by the cool touch of a fingertip on his forehead.

“Martial Uncle, it seems this illusion art is quite marvelous.”

Gu Baiying’s eyes snapped open.

Zanxing’s face was close at hand, leaning forward and looking up at him, her finger pointing at his forehead. She stared into Gu Baiying’s eyes as if wanting to see through him completely, seeming somewhat puzzled and somewhat amazed: “Why is your spiritual power so strong? What exactly is the difference between you and me?”

The young man was instantly stunned.

Her gaze was clear, more crystalline than the water of Chuhong Terrace. When she drew close, her body carried a faint magnolia fragrance. The female disciples in the sect loved using the long incense pills from Huajin Tower—he had always disliked these fragrances, but for the first time, he found this scent aromatic.

On the woman’s face, the black scar that had been left by “Yu” seemed to have faded somewhat, revealing her originally snow-white skin. She was like the only vibrant life in this cold season—even the ice pond maintained by illusion arts would melt from this gaze.

“Ding—”

A faint, soft sound overflowed from somewhere.

His heart shook greatly, and he instinctively reached to press the bell at his waist. Zanxing was completely unaware, but due to his movement, she swayed slightly and stepped forward to steady herself, bringing them so close their breaths mingled.

Zanxing was momentarily stunned.

The ice and snow began to melt.

The white frost that had frozen into crystal clarity seemed unable to bear it any longer, rushing turbulently down the stream. In an instant, everything that had been still became noisy. The east wind scattered the accumulated snow clouds on the branches, instantly transforming them into delicate peach colors—a riot of purples and reds, fine grass and gentle breeze. The young man’s features were clean, and in his clear eyes, embarrassment seemed to flash by. Peach blossoms from the entire tree fluttered down, landing on his crimson hair ribbon, dancing together with his red face.

Brilliant spring scenery, sparkling clear light—indescribable.