The morning bell had yet to ring, and the breeze drifting atop Zhuqu Peak still carried the coolness of the night.
Wu Yan stood before the bronze mirror, the tips of her fingers lightly brushing over the moon-white Daoist robe she wore. Though it looked identical to all the others, there were actually many of them stored in the wooden cabinet.
After all, she hadn’t been born as a woman, nor did her mindset carry the normal female longing for pretty clothes. To Wu Yan, clothing only needed two things: simplicity and durability.
A black sash cinched her upright figure, a high standing collar wrapped around her slender neck, leaving only a calm, unruffled face exposed.
“Tch.”
Looking at Wu Yan’s一as usual lackluster fashion sense, Wu Yan couldn’t help but click her tongue, her gaze full of disgust as she stared at Wu Yan. “Are you going to teach those brats or attend a funeral? Why do you always wear this kind of clothes?”
“Can’t you change into something nicer, at least with a bit of color? Where did you put all those clothes I used to have?”
Wu Yan patted the storage bag at her waist. “Right here. Those clothes were too flashy. What I’m wearing now is fine—simple, plenty in number, and durable.”
“…Hopeless.” Wu Yan covered her face with both hands and let out a long sigh toward the sky.
She took Wu Nian down from the rack and hung it at her waist. A cool breeze blew in from the doorway, lifting the snow-white tassel on the sword hilt.
“Let’s go.”
“So this is the Piaomiao Sect?”
Her golden hair was especially striking under the sunlight, and the Bixiao at her waist revealed her identity at a glance.
“That’s right, little friend Ji. This is where you’ll be staying from now on.”
The Piaomiao Sect Leader, whose entire body radiated a golden glow that made his features impossible to discern, stood by the entrance. On a massive stone, vigorous calligraphy carved the three characters “Piaomiao Sect,” edged in gold. Beside Ji Xuerou, towering peaks pierced the clouds, and a long, winding hanging staircase curved from the foot of the mountain to its summit. Beneath the mountain, many spirit stones were buried, supplying energy to the ancient sect-protecting array.
Not exactly imposing—at least compared to the Lingxiao Sect, it was quite low-key.
So this was the kind of place that produced an expert like Wu Yan?
Thinking this, Ji Xuerou took a gray long robe from her spatial ring and put it on, also donning an inconspicuous low hat on her head. She tucked her soft golden hair into the hat, and the brim’s shadow hid most of her face.
“Saintess, this is…?”
“I don’t want to attract attention.”
New outer sect disciples who hadn’t yet decided their cultivation direction were all assigned to Wendao Peak for a transitional period. Thus, Wendao Peak was the sect’s transitional ground for everyone.
Wu Yan’s teaching location this time was the Caotang on Wendao Peak.
It was a semi-open-air lecture hall that could hold up to a hundred people, built against the mountain. On ordinary days, disciples would study the focal points of different peaks here, as well as basic moral cultivation for cultivators and basic combat theory.
Of course, the sect didn’t force disciples to attend every course. Aside from the most basic moral cultivation and combat theory, other courses were optional.
But now, the lecture hall, which usually only filled up on Elder teaching days, was packed to the brim. Even the crooked locust tree outside the hall had a group of disciples sitting on it.
“Hey, I heard it’s the Eldest Senior Sister teaching today!”
“Ah, brother, I’ve got the latest edition of the Continent Beauty Atlas here. Interested?”
“No duh, who’d listen if it wasn’t the Eldest Senior Sister? Say something useful!”
“Three mid-grade spirit stones.”
“No way, the cover is Senior Sister Wu? How many spirit stones a copy?”
“Three mid-grade spirit stones.”
“You’re practically robbing me! Get lost!”
Chaotic voices rose from every corner of the hall. Some came to catch a glimpse of the legendary Eldest Senior Sister, others seized the business opportunity to make a quick profit, but most came for Wu Yan’s reputation, hoping to learn something real.
At the very back of the hall, near a stone pillar in the corner, Ji Xuerou sat quietly.
The space was thick with the heat of bodies pressed together, and her ears were filled with the restless clamor of young men and women. None of this mattered to Ji Xuerou—after all, her purpose here was very clear.
Where the heart is set, success follows.
On the stone steps at the side entrance of the hall, a white figure suddenly appeared.
Wu Yan stepped onto the lecture platform, one foot at a time on the bluestone steps.
The midday sun hung high, its light filtering through the gaps in the vines covering the hall’s roof and landing on Wu Yan. That white silhouette reflected into Ji Xuerou’s eyes, making her instinctively pause.
Wu Yan walked behind the lectern and stood still, her ink-black eyes sweeping from left to right.
Though she hadn’t said a single word, after three breaths, the entire hall fell into silence.
On the lectern lay a thick blue-covered book: Basic Sword Art Theory.
“Good.”
Wu Yan glanced down at it, then set it aside.
“I am Wu Yan of Zhuqu Peak. I will be teaching you all basic sword art theory from now on.”
Wu Yan’s self-introduction was concise and straightforward, with no mention of her status as Eldest Senior Sister or her achievements.
She picked up the blue book, flipped through a few pages, then put it down.
“First, I want to ask all of you: why did you embark on the path of immortal cultivation?”
Wu Yan’s cool voice was like a small pebble breaking the calm surface of the water. Murmurs rose again in the hall, though much quieter this time.
“You, speak.”
Wu Yan’s white, jade-like finger suddenly pointed at an outer sect disciple who had been passionately lecturing his companion. When selected, he seemed incredulous, pointing at his own nose with his right index finger. “Me? Me?”
“Yes.”
“Well… I cultivate to earn respect, I guess? Everyone in my village hopes someone will become an immortal!”
A simple, honest goal. Ji Xuerou nodded.
“And you?” Wu Yan selected a burly man.
“Of course, it’s to fight more experts! I’ve already defeated everyone in the mortal world, so naturally I want to go further.”
Wu Yan picked several more people, and their answers were all more or less the same: either to gain stronger power to realize their dreams, or to achieve fame and earn admiration.
To Ji Xuerou, all of this seemed perfectly normal. After all, most people were creatures driven by desire; immortal cultivation was just one way to fulfill those desires.
“And you?” Wu Yan’s voice suddenly became exceptionally clear in Ji Xuerou’s ear.
Ji Xuerou turned around. At some point, Wu Yan had left the lectern and come to stand beside her.
“Saintess Ji, why did you embark on the path of immortality?”
The words “Saintess Ji” were spoken very softly by Wu Yan, so softly that only Ji Xuerou, standing right beside her, could barely make them out. Clearly, Wu Yan had taken into account that Ji Xuerou’s current disguise was meant to avoid attention.
Why did I embark on the path of immortality?
“To wipe out all demonic cultivators and bring peace to the world, of course.” Ji Xuerou’s answer came without a moment’s hesitation.
Hearing Ji Xuerou’s reply, Wu Yan didn’t leave right away. Instead, she asked a second question in a very calm tone: “So, is that the reason you embarked on the path of immortality?”
A simple question, but at that moment, it struck Ji Xuerou like a blow.
She had never thought about why she had embarked on the path of immortality. From birth, she had been instilled with the responsibility of saving the world. Her mutated, supreme light spirit root destined her to be the natural enemy of those demonic cultivators lurking in the shadows.
Under the arrangements of her master and the elders, she had never questioned why she had set foot on this path.
She only needed to cultivate and draw her sword, single-mindedly.
And now, being asked by Wu Yan like this, Ji Xuerou suddenly realized that apart from the hopes everyone had placed on her, she couldn’t even find a reason of her own.