Moonlight shone down on the abandoned Stargazing Platform.
An Yao’s figure appeared here quietly, a day earlier than the appointed time.
She still wore her red and white cloud-patterned long dress, the watery veil on her face fluttering lightly in the night wind, hiding her peerless beauty beneath, yet unable to conceal eyes colder than the moonlight itself.
She stood silently at the edge of the Stargazing Platform, like a jade statue.
Two years, more than twenty meetings.
This place had already become, apart from cultivation, her only refuge.
At first, she merely found the named disciple called Ye Chen interesting.
His swordsmanship was ancient and profound; every sparring match would stir a faint ripple in her long-stilled Dao heart.
He was a perfect whetstone—unyielding, and always hiding surprises.
Yet at some point, this feeling of ‘interest’ subtly changed.
The monthly appointment became a vague anchor in her heart, something she unconsciously counted down to; as the date drew near, even during her sword practice, her mind would wander for a moment.
She didn’t understand this feeling, but she didn’t dislike it.
So this time, she came early.
A faint thought, one even she could not precisely describe, perhaps could be called… anticipation, rose in her heart.
She sat cross-legged, closed her eyes, hands open to the sky, breathing as one with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.
This was the same routine she had kept for decades—dull, pure, and the only path to the supreme Dao as a Saintess.
Yet tonight, her mind was not as clear as usual.
Unbidden, the image of that young man appeared in her thoughts.
The way he held his sword, his calm gaze, his surprise the moment his sword move was broken, and… after practice, the two of them sitting side by side on this Stargazing Platform, silent, accompanied only by the mountain wind, stars, and moon.
So, her life was not only cultivation.
The night passed without words.
The horizon turned pale, the first ray of morning breaking through the clouds, casting a faint golden glow over the mountains.
Below the Stargazing Platform, the lone path leading here was empty.
An Yao opened her eyes, gazing calmly at the surging sea of clouds in the distance.
The thread of anticipation in her heart had not faded; instead, the waiting only deepened it into a feeling difficult to describe.
She was in no rush.
As a Nascent Soul cultivator, sitting for a day or two was but the blink of an eye.
The sun rose and set.
Light was devoured by dusk, and moonlight reclaimed the night sky.
The wind seemed cooler than the night before.
She was still alone on the Stargazing Platform.
That familiar figure never appeared on the path.
For the first time, An Yao’s breathing grew faintly unsteady.
She looked up at the full moon hanging in the sky.
The moonlight was bright, yet seemed tinged with loneliness.
Her Dao heart, long stilled, was stirred by something unknown, and new emotions began to grow.
At first it was anticipation, then waiting, and now… what?
She didn’t know.
Time passed.
The moon slid west.
Dawn arrived for a second time.
As the warm sunlight dispelled the last chill of night, An Yao slowly stood up.
He did not come.
This realization surfaced clearly in her mind.
In that instant, an emotion she had never experienced before—like a vine breaking through earth—grew wild from the depths of her heart, quickly wrapping around her entire being.
A little stifling, a little empty, and a bit… chaotic.
She raised her hand lightly, her slender, pale fingertips touching her chest through her robes.
There, her Dao heart trembled, spiritual energy steady, but a nameless discomfort lingered.
This… was this the ’emotion’ her master once mentioned?
She suddenly laughed softly, the sound fading into the morning wind, carrying a trace of confusion and… self-mockery.
Since he didn’t come.
Then if I go… and take a look myself, there’s nothing wrong with that either.
As the thought rose, her figure turned into a nearly invisible stream of light, disappearing from the Stargazing Platform.
—
At the same time, the main peak plaza of the Zixiao Sword Sect’s inner sect was packed with people, the atmosphere solemn.
Ye Chen had not forgotten his appointment with An Yao.
He was simply powerless.
At dawn, while meditating in his residence at the Sword Courtyard, he was directly ‘invited’ out by disciples of the Disciplinary Hall, saying there was important sect business.
All inner sect disciples and above present in the sect were to gather immediately at the main peak plaza.
Thus, he ended up here.
Several temporary high platforms had been erected in the plaza’s center.
On them, giant Formation Banners fluttered in the wind, ancient runes marking different realms—’Foundation Establishment’, ‘Golden Core’.
Ye Chen’s hand had been forcibly given a small Formation Banner indicating his status, with ‘Foundation Establishment’ clearly written on it.
He was placed at the front of the ‘Foundation Establishment’ group, beside a slightly shorter inner sect female disciple.
The girl was pretty, with lively almond-shaped eyes.
At this moment, she was curiously sizing up Ye Chen, holding an identical Formation Banner.
Ye Chen looked forward; on the high platform sat two elders of unfathomable aura, one male and one female, their expressions grave.
Behind him were hundreds of inner sect disciples in neat rows, their standard robes forming a sea.
It was the first time since entering Zixiao Sword Sect that he had seen such a grand scene.
This spectacle, it was said, was for the upcoming North Continent Sect Tournament—a comprehensive Talent Evaluation to select those suitable to represent the sect.
As someone who had left his name on the Wendao Ranking but never revealed his true strength in public, Ye Chen had been directly named by the upper echelons as one of the Foundation Establishment representatives for the evaluation.
He couldn’t keep a low profile even if he wanted to.
Ye Chen sighed lightly, about to close his eyes and rest, when the girl beside him suddenly leaned over, her voice as clear as an oriole.
“Senior Brother Ye, did you… not sleep well last night? You look a bit tired.”
Ye Chen hadn’t slept at all; he’d been waiting for dawn, preparing for his appointment.
Plans, however, never keep up with change.
He opened his eyes and glanced at the girl, recognizing her as Su Ying, a well-known inner sect junior.
He nodded lightly.
“Just had some thoughts during cultivation and pondered a bit longer.”
“Wow, Senior Brother is amazing!”
Su Ying’s eyes lit up instantly, like stars shining within.
“I knew it! Anyone who could go so far on the Wendao Ranking can’t be ordinary! I’ve heard so many senior sisters say Senior Brother keeps a low profile and hides his strength!”
Her tone was full of admiration—a total fangirl.
Ye Chen smiled slightly, noncommittal.
“Just lucky.”
As they chatted, a slightly magnetic yet somewhat discordant voice sounded from behind.
“Oh? Junior Brother Ye’s luck is so good that even elders personally named you?”
A tall young man walked over, also in the front row of the Foundation Establishment group.
His gaze passed over Su Ying, landing on Ye Chen with scrutiny.
“Senior Brother Zhao.”
Su Ying frowned at the newcomer, her tone colder.
“Why did you come over again? I told you to stay away from me.”
The young man, Zhao Heng, showed a hint of helplessness before regaining his smile.
“Junior Sister Su Ying, I didn’t come for you this time. I’ve simply heard of Junior Brother Ye for a long time and was curious.”
He turned to Ye Chen, the teasing in his words more pronounced.
“Junior Brother Ye has kept a low profile since entering the inner sect, yet his name reached the upper echelons. I wonder if, on the evaluation stage, you can satisfy my curiosity and let us witness if the rumored strength is real?”
Ye Chen watched with interest.
This Senior Brother Zhao’s hostility seemed to come more from the girl beside him than from his own strength.
He was merely a bystander caught up in the mess.
A faintly indifferent thought crossed Ye Chen’s mind, but his face remained gentle as he nodded politely at Zhao Heng.
“Senior Brother flatters me. At that time, I ask Senior Brother to show mercy and give guidance.”
His posture was humble, his tone polite and courteous—accepting the challenge without any hint of conflict.
“See? Senior Brother Ye is so polite, unlike you—so strange and sarcastic!”
Su Ying hugged her arms, speaking bluntly to Zhao Heng.
Zhao Heng’s expression twisted slightly, but he maintained his composure, giving Ye Chen a faint smile before stepping back—though a cold light flickered in his eyes.
Su Ying wanted to say more, but at that moment, an overwhelming pressure swept down from the high platform, instantly enveloping the entire plaza.
All conversation ceased.
You could hear a pin drop.
A higher-ranking elder had arrived.
The evaluation was about to begin.
And as everyone’s attention focused on the high platform, no one noticed that atop the highest eaves of a distant hall, a red-and-white figure appeared silently.
An Yao stood at the edge, her gaze piercing through the buildings, landing precisely on the young man at the very front of the crowd.
She saw him.
She saw him standing tall, saw a gentle smile on his face she had never seen before, and also saw… the clear, beautiful girl beside him, gazing at him with eyes full of starlight.
In that instant, the aura that had been one with heaven and earth around An Yao stilled.
Beneath the watery veil, her eyes narrowed.
Her Dao heart, having just tasted ‘chaos’, was overtaken by an even stranger, more unpleasant emotion.