Lu Zhu was awakened by the scent.
More precisely, she was awakened by a familiar, tantalizing aroma that instinctively made her mouth water.
She sniffed with her eyes still closed, thinking drowsily.
‘Is that… scallion pancakes?’
No, there was also the fragrance of congee.
The rice was spirit rice, cooked just right—soft, sticky, and sweet…
Wait.
She snapped her eyes open.
She was the only one on the bed.
The bedding beside her was folded neatly, as if it had never been slept in.
The fragrance was drifting in from the courtyard.
Lu Zhu threw on an outer robe and pushed open the door, only to see Su Wantang crouching by a small earthen stove in the yard—wait!
Why had an earthen stove sprouted up in the yard overnight? Su Wantang held a spatula, expertly flipping something in the pan.
On the stone table by the stove were already placed two bowls of congee, two small dishes of pickles, and a plate of crispy golden pancakes.
“Master, you’re awake?”
Su Wantang looked up, her face flushed red from the stove fire.
“Perfect timing. Come try my cooking.”
Lu Zhu walked over in a daze, sat down on a stone stool, and stared at the breakfast table set before her with its perfect presentation, momentarily unable to say anything.
“These are scallion pancakes,”
Su Wantang said, placing the last piece of pancake on the plate and sitting down across from her.
“I used spirit wheat flour. I’m not sure if it suits your taste, Master. The congee is spirit rice porridge, with a few wild mountain greens I pickled. It might not be as refined as the sect’s dining hall, but it’s fresh…”
As she spoke, she ladled congee into a bowl for Lu Zhu, her movements as natural as if she had done it a thousand times.
Lu Zhu picked up the congee and took a sip.
The delicate fragrance of the spirit rice melted on her tongue—warm, smooth, and just right.
She took a bite of the pickled vegetables—perfectly seasoned, crisp and refreshing.
Finally, she picked up a scallion pancake and bit into it—crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, rich with scallion flavor, and well-balanced in saltiness.
“Delicious!”
Her eyes lit up, and she spoke between chews, her words muffled.
“So good! How do you know how to make everything?”
Su Wantang watched her wolf down the food with a gentle smile before picking up her own bowl and taking small sips of congee.
“Before… when I lived alone, if I couldn’t cook, I’d go hungry.”
Her tone was light, as if stating an ordinary fact.
Lu Zhu was taken aback, remembering Su Wantang’s words about her hazy memories after transmigrating.
A sudden pang of sympathy hit her.
‘This girl, all alone after transmigrating… she must have had a rough time, right?’
She put down the pancake and said seriously, “From now on, you have me. You don’t have to be alone.”
Su Wantang’s hand, holding the bowl, paused slightly.
She looked up at Lu Zhu.
The sunlight fell perfectly on her face, gilding those earnest eyes with a golden light.
“Alright.”
She curved her lips, her voice soft.
“I have my Master.”
After the two of them finished breakfast, Lu Zhu wiped her mouth and suddenly remembered something important.
“Right, today I’ll take you around to get familiar with the sect.”
She stood up.
“Wait for me while I change.”
With that, she darted into the house, leaving Su Wantang to clean up.
About fifteen minutes later, the two of them stood at the foot of Serene Heart Peak.
Lu Zhu had changed into a light cyan dress and had her hair tied in a casual ponytail—which, of course, Su Wantang had done for her, since her own attempts were really unsightly.
Now, she was staring blankly at a fork in the road ahead, a somewhat lost expression on her face.
“Um…”
She scratched her head.
“Is the martial arts ground this way, or that way?”
She was starting to regret it.
She regretted not just flying on her sword earlier, instead of saying those stupid things about taking a casual walk and seeing the scenery.
Su Wantang stood behind her, watching her master’s troubled expression at the fork in the road, and couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.
‘This person has lived on the mountain for ten years and still can’t remember the sect’s roads.’
“Master,”
she said softly.
“How about… just picking one at random?”
Lu Zhu turned to look at her, a hint of grievance in her eyes.
“What if we take the wrong one?”
“If we’re wrong, we can just come back.”
Su Wantang’s eyes curved with her smile.
“We’re just wandering around today anyway. We’ll go wherever we end up.”
Lu Zhu thought about it and felt that made a lot of sense.
So, with a grand wave of her hand, she chose the path on the left.
The two of them walked down the mountain path.
Though it was called a path, it was actually paved flat and wide, with low-grade spirit plants growing on both sides.
Occasionally, they could see an outer disciple or two busy in the fields.
Seeing Lu Zhu, those disciples stopped their work and bowed respectfully.
“Greetings, Seventh Elder.”
Lu Zhu nodded, maintaining a faint smile on her face—when outsiders were around, she still had to work hard to keep up her persona.
Once they were far enough away, she let out a quiet sigh of relief and mumbled, “Every time I have to do this, it’s so exhausting…”
Su Wantang walked beside her, catching every word of that mumble clearly.
“Master usually doesn’t like being stared at?”
Lu Zhu pouted.
“Who would?”
‘He liked it—back in his previous life, if he’d seen such a beautiful woman on his way to work, he’d have snuck a few extra glances without a doubt. But times had changed. Now that he was the one being stared at, everything became hypocritical.’
Su Wantang couldn’t help but laugh.
After walking a little while, the view before them opened up.
A massive martial arts ground appeared before them, vast in area, paved with bluestone.
Tall flagpoles stood around it, flying the banners of the Azure Cloud Sect.
At the moment, the martial arts ground was buzzing with activity—at least a hundred disciples were training.
Some were practicing swords, some were sparring, and some were sitting in meditation and breathing exercises.
It was bustling with energy.
“This is the main training ground of the Azure Cloud Sect,” Lu Zhu introduced.
“Both outer and inner disciples can use it. Over there is a weapon rack with all kinds of swords, spears, and halberds…”
Seeing the swords on the rack, she suddenly thought of something and grabbed a passing disciple.
“Um, which elder is on duty at the training ground today?”
The disciple turned around and saw it was the Seventh Elder.
He quickly blushed and bowed.
“Reporting to the Seventh Elder, the Sixth Elder is on duty today, teaching swordsmanship.”
Lu Zhu’s heart skipped a beat.
Subconsciously, she grabbed Su Wantang’s hand and turned to leave.
“Hurry, let’s go,” she said in a low voice.
Su Wantang was completely baffled by her strange master’s behavior, but she still obediently followed with quick steps.
“What’s wrong, Master?”
“I’ll explain later. Anyway, it’s a hassle,” Lu Zhu said, keeping her head down and quickening her pace.
But it was already too late.
“Junior Sister.”
A low voice came from behind them, flat and emotionless, yet impossible to ignore.
Lu Zhu’s steps faltered.
She turned around stiffly, forcing a smile that was more like a grimace.
“Senior Brother Elder… what a coincidence. You’re teaching your class here? Then please, don’t let me disturb you. I’ll be going now, ha…”
Her gaze swept across the center of the training ground, where a rather unremarkable gray-robed figure had appeared.
He looked to be a man in his early thirties, with a gaunt face and a cool, stern expression.
His gray robe was washed nearly white, and his sleeves were rolled up slightly, revealing slender yet powerful wrists.
In his hand, he held a long sword—the blade was ancient and unadorned, yet it exuded a formidable presence.
His gaze was distant, so much so that it felt like he was indifferent to everything around him.
But when his eyes fell on Lu Zhu, there seemed to be something more in that distant look.
Sixth Elder Yun Ping.
At the Mid Realm of Mystic Insight, he was a major realm above the Golden Core stage, and was recognized as the number one swordsman in the Azure Cloud Sect.
He was a man of few words, who rarely smiled—someone born for the sword, whose life’s goal was to debate the way of the sword.
He was the younger brother of Fifth Elder Yun Qingqian, and had once ascended the mountain together with her to become a disciple of Sect Leader Xuan Zhen.
As such, he was Lu Zhu’s official senior martial brother.
“Since you’re here,” Yun Ping’s voice remained calm, “let’s spar.”
The smile on Lu Zhu’s face grew even more rigid.
“Sp-spar with what?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
Lu Zhu instinctively wanted to refuse, but meeting Yun Ping’s calm, placid eyes, the words died in her throat.
She knew her senior brother’s temper.
When he said to spar, even if the sect leader himself came, he’d still make you exchange a few moves.
The word “no” simply didn’t exist in his dictionary.
“F-fine…”
She responded weakly, letting go of Su Wantang’s hand.
“Wait for me here. I’ll be right back.”
Su Wantang looked at her with some concern.
“Master, you…”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Sixth Senior Brother is a good person. He just likes to find people to spar with,”
Lu Zhu said quietly, then shuffled reluctantly toward the center of the training ground.
The disciples practicing swords around them had long since stopped, voluntarily clearing a space.
Their eyes were bright, as if they had spotted something rare.
“The Seventh Elder is going to spar with the Sixth Elder?”
“That’s rare! The Seventh Elder usually never comes to the training ground!”
“I heard the Seventh Elder is a prodigy with an Ice Spirit Root. I wonder how her swordsmanship is…”
Lu Zhu walked up to Yun Ping, took a deep breath, and raised her right hand.
A flash of light appeared in her palm, and a wooden sword materialized in her hand.
The wooden sword was of ordinary craftsmanship, its blade even a bit rough—clearly no divine weapon.
A faint stir rippled through the crowd.
“A wooden sword?”
“Why is the Seventh Elder using a wooden sword?”
“Isn’t that too… casual?”
Su Wantang stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the shabby wooden sword in her master’s hand, her brows slightly furrowed.
Yun Ping also glanced at the wooden sword, but his expression didn’t change.
He simply nodded and said, “Begin.”
Lu Zhu gripped the wooden sword and assumed a starting stance.
Then— Her figure vanished.
In the next instant, she had already appeared before Yun Ping, her wooden sword carrying a sharp sword aura as it thrust straight for his chest.
So fast!
The surrounding disciples let out waves of exclamations.
They had only seen a blur; they couldn’t even follow Lu Zhu’s movements.
Yun Ping shifted his body slightly, evading the strike.
But Lu Zhu’s attacks came in an unending stream—one sword strike after another, each faster than the last.
Her swordsmanship wasn’t refined—in fact, it could be called rough.
But relying on extreme speed and abundant spiritual power, she forced a domineering, oppressive momentum.
“The Seventh Elder is amazing!”
“With such fast swords, the Sixth Elder is being suppressed!”
“As expected of a Nascent Soul stage!”
Su Wantang’s gaze followed the cyan figure intently, a trace of imperceptible tenderness flashing in her eyes.
‘That person’s sword… it’s still the same as before.’
‘No focus on technique, only instinct.’
Yun Ping had been defending all along.
He only defended, never attacked, allowing Lu Zhu’s sword strikes to rain down like a storm.
His expression remained calm, his gaze always indifferent, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Lu Zhu grew more comfortable as she fought.
‘Wait, my sword can actually suppress this number one swordsman?’ she thought, starting to feel a little cocky.
‘Am I really this strong?’
‘Should I press the attack and force Sixth Senior Brother to show his real skill?’
The thought crossed her mind, and her attacks became more ferocious.
She channeled spiritual energy into the wooden sword, and the ordinary blade began to emit a faint, chilly glow.
The cheers around them grew louder.
“It looks like the Seventh Elder is going to win!”
“A prodigy is a prodigy—even her swordsmanship is this incredible!”
Su Wantang, however, furrowed her brow.
She could see that Yun Ping had been on the defensive the whole time, even passively taking the hits.
But his footing never faltered, and his posture remained composed, as if everything was within his control.