Yun Shuying’s dance was impressive.
Although her hobbies were many and varied, most of them reached a certain level of skill. A few she loved the most had even been perfected to a masterful degree.
— After all, being at the Jiedan Stage, a few hundred years of accumulated experience was not something ordinary people could match.
Though Lin Dongming didn’t know Yun Shuying’s exact age, breaking through to the Jiedan Stage usually happened after one hundred years of cultivation.
Judging by that, alchemy was likely one of her interests as well. That interest had just developed exceptionally well, eventually becoming her main focus.
— But today, this dance posture… it’s from the Meng Fu Bridge, isn’t it?
This was a folk geisha dance known for its graceful and light movements. However, Lin Dongming knew that Meng Fu Bridge was only a part of a complete dance.
This particular segment, while elegant and dreamlike, carried a rather lonely and sorrowful atmosphere.
Lin Dongming paced beside her with steps that could barely be called proficient, accompanying Yun Shuying’s dance. He could only hope that her mood wouldn’t collapse later on.
On the surface, Yun Shuying was a highly respected alchemy elder. Those who knew her better were aware of her wide range of interests and her love for the mundane joys of life, making her seem like a mischievous old soul.
But only a few close to her understood that once her emotions became unstable, she could turn quite wild.
At that moment, Lin Dongming was her emotional anchor, the first to suffer if she lost control.
Yet Lin Dongming felt the surrounding spiritual energy grow restless and uneasy, making him shiver.
The power of the Jiedan Stage was immense; fluctuations in one’s spiritual energy could easily affect the external environment. Moreover, Yun Shuying likely had exceptional talent in this path.
“Who!?”
A strange spiritual force intruded.
A wildcat with mottled fur meowed softly and leapt into Yun Shuying’s arms.
“Oh? This little one…” Yun Shuying looked surprised.
“That’s the one you saved a few days ago, isn’t it?” Lin Dongming smiled with relief. “Looks like it’s growing well.”
At that time, Lin Dongming had even asked Yun Shuying if she wanted to adopt it outright, since it seemed quite intelligent and might even cultivate into a humanoid form.
But Yun Shuying’s reply was firm: No.
— Do you know how long a spirit cat lives?
Lin Dongming shook his head.
— I only know ordinary cats live about ten to twenty years.
— Spirit cats live only twice as long, about thirty to forty years.
Lin Dongming immediately understood: if it couldn’t reach Zhuji within forty years to become a true Spirit Beast, then the time it could accompany Yun Shuying would be just a fleeting moment.
“Not just that,” Yun Shuying said. “Its cultivation has improved a bit.”
As if showing off, the little wildcat proudly flicked its second short tail at Lin Dongming.
“Oh? So it’s in the Nine Lives Cat Demon category.” Lin Dongming was intrigued.
“There’s still some hope for reaching Zhuji.” He could sense the little wildcat was roughly at Lianqi stage eight—not bad at all.
However, even achieving full Lianqi, many never reach Zhuji in their lifetime. That depended on fate and luck.
But clearly, this wildcat was not a pure-blood Nine Lives Cat Demon. The latter were known for their flawless pure white fur, while this one’s patchy fur showed mixed lineage.
Even among cats, the destiny of a mixed-blood and a pure-blood was completely different from birth.
Yet at this moment, the mixed-blood cat was licking Yun Shuying’s hand. Initially, Yun Shuying would half-heartedly complain “Don’t lick,” but soon she stopped complaining altogether, instead showing a face of enjoyment.
Seeing this, Lin Dongming sighed softly and went into the room to fetch some spirit beast meat to feed the cat.
Tonight, thanks to this little creature, they would get through safely.
***
The next day, Lin Dongming rode his sword to the Sword Dance Terrace near Tianjian Peak. This was a place White Zhiqing frequented.
Before reaching Jiedan, White Zhiqing usually practiced swordsmanship at the Sword Dance Terrace on Tianjian Peak, sparring only with disciples from Tianjian Peak itself.
After Jiedan, to broaden her experience, she switched to practicing near Duyuan Lake, where disciples of the entire sect could train. Generally, this was reserved for those at Jiedan or higher.
Lin Dongming used to come here occasionally as well, but days with many client requests reduced those visits. Now, however, he would come often—after all, he had to protect White Zhiqing.
He found an inconspicuous corner to land and planned to familiarize himself with the area first. Since White Zhiqing didn’t have a good impression of him yet, appearing overly purposeful would only increase the chance of failure.
“Yo, isn’t this Junior Brother Lin? Didn’t expect you’d have time to come to the Sword Dance Terrace.” A familiar voice sounded—it was Song Yumian.
“Senior Sister Song, you flatter me.”
Lin Dongming teased. “Only a slow learner like me would come here often to practice. Someone as talented as you probably doesn’t come much, right? I used to come here whenever I was free.”
In fact, Lin Dongming had been to almost every place an ordinary disciple could go within the sect.
Since Lin Dongming’s aptitude was quite average among the Heavenly Extreme Sword Sect’s inner disciples, he tried many different methods.
He dabbled a little in all the various cultivation arts—after all, with the sect’s standard training, he couldn’t surpass the prodigies born with Dao Bodies.
His only choice was to experiment more and try to overtake them through unconventional routes.
“Oh? Didn’t expect Junior Brother Lin to be surprisingly diligent.” Song Yumian teased.
“That ‘surprisingly’ hurts.” Lin Dongming retorted.
“But you must be here for Junior Sister Bai, right? She should be arriving soon.”
Song Yumian didn’t care about the other women around Lin Dongming. “Junior Sister Bai is so pure; Junior Brother Lin, don’t go ruining her.”
“Don’t worry, I’m just paid to do a job.” Lin Dongming shrugged. “I’m not interested in those tsundere little brats.”
Come to think of it, although Lin Dongming had reincarnated into this world, he couldn’t change his choice of words.
Terms like Sea King, Bootlicker, and Tsundere were spread by him and gradually accepted by the sect disciples.
“Speaking of her, here she comes.”
Not far away, a figure in white stepped onto a small stage in the Sword Dance Terrace, beginning a swordplay duel with a fellow disciple.
Lin Dongming watched from the side. “Such a fierce sword technique—winning this duel is just a matter of time.”
“Underestimate Junior Sister Bai, did you?”
Song Yumian smiled. “She trains much harder than you do. Among the younger generation at Tianjian Peak, her swordsmanship ranks in the top five.”
“Her style really doesn’t fit a spoiled noble lady’s swordsmanship.”
Lin Dongming had sparred with Han Xiangjun before, who was a typical noble lady sword user: precise and proper, but utterly lacking in killing intent, probably never having truly fought anyone.
But White Zhiqing was different. Although also lacking in murderous aura, her strikes were sharp and decisive, never hesitating when it was time to strike. If this was innate talent, then it was truly extraordinary.
Sure enough, after just a moment, the opposing Jiedan-stage female cultivator was defeated. White Zhiqing stood on the stage, radiant with triumph.
Then, she lifted her chin toward Lin Dongming: “Senior Brother Lin, care to come up and spar?”