The faint sense of disappointment he'd felt earlier was now swept clean away, and Li Xun's heart began to thrum with excitement. If there was one hobby he'd developed during his seven years atop Zuowang Peak, it was analyzing and unraveling formation techniques.
Just a few days ago, after descending the mountain and spending a night discussing Dao with Qingxu, he felt his understanding had deepened once again. These complex, layered restrictive formations were the most subtle — and the most intriguing. If he could decipher the formations here, even without gaining any tangible reward, the satisfaction alone would keep him too excited to eat for three months!
Li Xun was already itching to try, but just then, Shan Zhi tugged his sleeve, looking mildly annoyed. "Junior Brother, what are you thinking about? I've called you twice!"
Only then did Li Xun realize he had stopped walking without noticing. He smiled awkwardly and made up some excuse, preparing to move forward — when he noticed Shan Zhi had also suddenly paused, his head tilted, gaze fixed off to the side.
Li Xun sensed something and followed his line of sight — where he saw three or four stunningly beautiful female cultivators ascending the path, their flowing robes fluttering, clouds coiling around them, their bearing utterly ethereal.
Though still not quite as serene and poised as Qingyin, they clearly carried the grace of major sect disciples. It was no wonder Shan Zhi was momentarily entranced.
Fearing his companion might embarrass himself, Li Xun coughed gently, imitating what Shan Zhi had done earlier by tugging his sleeve and calling softly, "Senior Brother Shan?"
Startled, Shan Zhi turned quickly. Seeing the amused glint in Li Xun's eyes, he gave an instinctive cough, trying to straighten up and look composed. But in the end, he couldn't help smiling sheepishly, even sighing. "Junior Brother Xun, forgive me… Senior Sister Bi has grown more and more stunning these years. Senior Brother Wenhai is truly a lucky man."
Li Xun blinked, surprised by the unexpected confession. Shan Zhi also realized his comment was a bit too candid, and hurried to shift the topic. "Ahem, and Junior Sisters Yin and Song — they've also become more refined… Could it be our sect's cultivation methods also enhance one's appearance?"
But the subject change was so abrupt that it only made things more awkward. Li Xun, sensing this, stole a glance and saw Shan Zhi's embarrassment deepening. Not wanting to leave him hanging, he quickly turned his gaze back toward the women as well.
He gave them a good, deliberate look — then withdrew his gaze just before they could sense it — and chuckled, saying, "Senior Brother Shan, you've been holding out on me! You never told me there was such beauty on the mountain! I suddenly feel like spending seven years on Zuowang Peak… might've made me miss out on quite a bit."
He put on a mock-regretful face.
The human heart is strange — had he pretended not to notice anything or feigned moral superiority, it would only have raised his companion's guard. But by openly placing himself on the same level, the emotional distance between them instantly narrowed — even a kind of silent camaraderie formed.
Shan Zhi was clearly relieved. He was about to speak again when the female cultivators ahead noticed them and offered warm greetings. Shan Zhi responded with grave decorum, perfectly proper, and Li Xun, not wanting to act the clown, mirrored him — coming off like a green, still-innocent Daoist novice.
Once the women passed, the two of them exchanged a look — and shared a laugh. They felt closer than ever.
Still wanting to make up for his earlier slip, Shan Zhi added, "In truth, these senior sisters, though of our generation in name, joined the sect ten, even dozens or over a hundred years earlier. Junior Brother, you mustn't be fooled by appearances — their cultivation far surpasses mine."
Li Xun chuckled inwardly, though on the surface he gave a sheepish nod, humbly accepting the advice.
Thanks to this little interlude, they now had even more to talk about. Shan Zhi began chatting about the sorts of topics only men shared in private.
Between jokes and casual talk, the Daoist hall where the sect meeting was held finally came into view. Li Xun glanced up at the plaque — the name read: Hall of Undawned Clarity. It seemed to carry a hidden meaning.
By this point, the number of disciples on the path had increased. Shan Zhi, knowing better than to bring up their earlier conversation again, simply exchanged polite words with passing fellow disciples. Li Xun occasionally caught phrases like "climbed Zuowang Peak" or "incredible achievement" in their greetings — which he accepted with modest smiles and no comment.
As Shan Zhi had described, the Daoist hall wasn't large, but its winding paths and secluded corners gave it a refined, garden-like elegance.
Shan Zhi led him around a few turns until they stopped before a modest chamber. He let Li Xun catch his breath, then called out clearly, "Disciple Shan Zhi, by order, has brought Junior Brother Li Xun."
From within, a calm voice — it sounded like Qingxu — replied, "Let Li Xun enter. Others may leave."
Shan Zhi gave him a subtle look, then withdrew as instructed. Li Xun took a deep breath, stepped forward, and bowed respectfully. "Disciple Li Xun pays his respects!"
Only then did he gently push open the door and step inside.
The room was well-lit but sparsely furnished — only a few dozen meditation cushions arranged in rows. Two to three dozen figures were already seated.
In his nervousness, Li Xun didn't have time to count them all. His eyes went straight to the center — where one person sat at the head. That had to be the Sect Leader, Daoist Qingming.
He dared not stare too long, but even that brief glance left an impression. The man's eyes were unsettlingly clear, like mirrors that reflected every hidden stain in one's soul.
His face was tranquil and unreadable, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking.
Profound. Unfathomable. Truly… unfathomable.
A sudden thread of nervousness crept into Li Xun's chest — a feeling that came out of nowhere and swiftly spiraled out of control. There was nothing he could do; the secrets he carried were simply too many. Should even one be unearthed, it would be a complete disaster for him.
Anyone in this room could, with a mere breath, doom him beyond redemption. At this moment, he was like an ant standing in the path of a charging herd of elephants.
He took a few steps toward the center of the room — each one leaden, heavy with dread. When he reached a suitable spot, he straightened his robe, knelt down heavily, and bowed. "Disciple Li Xun greets the Sect Master, Elders, and Immortal Masters!"
His voice lingered in the air, echoing softly through the hall. With his head lowered, he stared intently at the patterned green bricks of the floor beneath him — noticing even there, the traces of restrictive formations...
"Formations?"
For some reason, the moment that word surfaced in his mind, a wave of clarity swept through him. Perhaps it was because fear had reached its peak — and once past that limit, it gave way to numbness. And from numbness arose a strange and unnatural calm.
However his mind had shifted, in that moment, it felt as though a thousand-pound burden had been lifted from him. The world that had slipped away now returned, realigning itself around him.
He found his grounding once more — even the pain in his knees from kneeling was suddenly vivid and unmistakable.
Just then, Qingxu's voice rang out — though not directed at him. "Senior Brother, what do you think of this child?"
Li Xun dared not lift his head, but he suddenly felt a chill sweep over him, as if several sharp gazes brushed across his body. He had likely been under such scrutiny the entire time — but only now did he become aware of it.
As he was growing more self-conscious, a gentle and refined voice spoke — it had to be Qingming: "Born of nobility, yet possessing such resolute will — not easy. Li Xun, raise your head."
Li Xun calmly lifted his gaze, but the moment his eyes met Qingming's, he instinctively looked down again, silently.
It seemed Qingming sighed. "As expected — the mark of solitary calamity. I wonder which Daoist friend failed to transcend their tribulation and left behind this final spark of life. Worthy of both celebration… and sorrow."
The hall fell quiet. All present lowered their eyes, expressions dim.
Qingming continued, "This child, through immense willpower, climbed over 270,000 li of treacherous paths. Among all disciples since our founding ancestors three generations back, he stands alone. According to our sect's laws, he is to be accepted as a core disciple. Does anyone object?"
Silence filled the hall.
Qingming nodded slightly. "Then it is settled. Now to the next matter. Qingyin and Qingxu both say this child has excellent aptitude for the Lingxi Art. That technique has suffered a weak inheritance over the past generations — I wish for him to study it. Any objections?"
There was a brief pause before a woman's voice replied, "Only Eldest Brother and Junior Sister Mingji currently cultivate that art. Since Mingji is rarely on the mountain, you mean to have Eldest Brother accept him as a disciple?"
Qingming gave a small nod. "That is my intention. Ge'er, what do you think?"
This time, the silence lasted much longer. Just when Li Xun began to feel he couldn't hold out any longer, a languid, indifferent voice finally replied, "Since Master commands it, this disciple has nothing to say."
Is that... consent? Li Xun was startled — but why did that reply carry a trace of resentment?
And the tone — it was oddly casual, even bordering on disrespectful. Yet everyone in the room reacted as though it were nothing strange. Could this be one of the famed Seven Swords of Lianxia — the "Heart-Heaven Sword," Lin Ge?
Qingming seemed to smile faintly and followed up, "So, you're agreeing?"
"I can manage passing on some key insights," Lin Ge answered lazily.
From anyone else, such words would carry an arrogant tone — but from Lin Ge's mouth, they came across as tired, dismissive, almost perfunctory.
Li Xun's heart sank immediately.
But Qingming only smiled, then turned back to Li Xun. "You heard all of that?" he said. "It's inconvenient to hold the formal ceremony now. Go wait outside — your master will take you back later for the official rites."
Li Xun dared not speak further. He simply rose, bowed again, and quietly withdrew.
Just as Li Xun was about to exit the room, Qingming had already begun discussing the next matter: "These days, Jade Wanderer has been far too ostentatious. The Polar Night's Heaven of the North Pole — the gathering of rogue cultivators there must not be taken lightly…"
Li Xun couldn't quite register these words anymore. He backed out of the hall, closing the door behind him. Just as the door was about to shut, he swiftly glanced toward a certain spot in the room — where Lin Ge was seated.
He recognized his future master at once.
Amid the solemn assembly, only this man wore brocade robes of dazzling finery, his expression carrying a dissolute, almost melancholic detachment. It was a stark contrast to the composed dignity of the others. A single glance at him, and it felt as if the entire world were shrouded in grey.
So the days ahead… will be spent with him? Li Xun couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
As the door closed, Qingming's voice was cut off — as was his view. But that languid, bleak aura of Lin Ge had already etched itself into Li Xun's mind.
At that moment, he suddenly recalled what Immortal Master MingYan had once spoken of — the legendary "Phoenix Slaying" that shook the Tongxuan Realm a century ago.
And wasn't Lin Ge… the very heart of that storm?