The female demon truly lived up to her reputation. Her actions were unpredictable and beyond ordinary comprehension. If she didn’t want anything to do with her and had publicly humiliated her, why bother extending a favor afterward?
It was indeed puzzling.
“Hey, what are you thinking about? Don’t worry. Junior Master Qu is notorious for her bad temper. If it were anyone else, she might have done worse. Even though she shattered your spirit jade, she didn’t hold you accountable for retaliating,” Lu Fanzhi said with a simple mind, believing everything had ended on a happy note.
Luo Jinxiao forced a smile and turned to ask, “Whose disciple have you become?”
“Look, it says ‘Gui Jiu’ on it. Sounds like some kind of wine, right? I just found out it’s the name of Elder He’s senior disciple. Though not exceptionally talented, he’s diligently cultivated for a hundred years and is now at the second stage of the Golden Core. This is his first year taking in disciples,” Lu Fanzhi replied with a bright, happy smile.
Most people’s spirit jades remained unchanged, and some left dejected. Luo Jinxiao glanced around, noticing that her adversary Yan Ying had become the disciple of a female elder and was basking in the praise of others.
She looked away, noting that Luo Mei had managed to reach Wuhui Mountain but still couldn’t enter the Wuhui Sect.
“The remaining disciples, take your spirit jades and meet your masters to perform the initiation rites.”
With that command, the crowd began to disperse, led into the mountain by guides.
Lu Fanzhi bid farewell to Luo Jinxiao and left excitedly, while Luo Jinxiao was led down a narrow path by a rather shy senior brother.
The senior brother appeared bashful and remained silent, simply leading the way. Luo Jinxiao casually asked him questions.
“Senior Brother, why does Master Willow live so remotely?” she asked while kicking aside the scattered leaves.
“Master Willow should be addressed as Elder Xie. He has an eccentric nature, rarely leaves his home, and loves willow trees, hence the name ‘Master Willow.'”
Another eccentric, Luo Jinxiao noted with a hint of concern.
“Does he have any other disciples?” she asked.
“No, like Junior Master Qu, Master Willow has never taken in a disciple.”
With nothing more to ask, Luo Jinxiao walked on, taking in the surrounding scenery. The path grew increasingly remote, with lush vegetation and scattered leaves, as if it hadn’t been cleaned in ages.
The sun was strong, but the mountain was cool, with dappled sunlight and gentle breezes making it quite pleasant.
“We’re here. You can go in yourself,” the senior brother said before vanishing like he was escaping a plague.
Luo Jinxiao rubbed her eyes, irritated by the dust he kicked up, muttering under her breath before looking up. In front of her was a simple fence, lacking the grandeur of a large sect, more like a village. The house was wooden, with smoke curling from its chimney.
Luo Jinxiao hesitated at the entrance for a while before finally knocking on the door.
After a moment, the door opened, and Luo Jinxiao jumped back in fright. Standing there was not a person, but a puppet wearing coarse linen clothing, with an expressionless face, a single eye, and skin as rough as bark.
Realizing her mistake, Luo Jinxiao understood that this was no human, but a puppet.
The puppet stepped aside, inviting her in.
Cautiously, Luo Jinxiao entered and saw a middle-aged man seated under a tree. In front of him, on a stone table, were a bowl of porridge and two dishes. He wasn’t eating; instead, he sniffed each dish before signaling the puppet.
The puppet took the food and poured it into a bowl under the tree, where a large yellow dog eagerly bounded over, wagging its tail and devouring the meal with joy.
Luo Jinxiao watched this peculiar scene in silence, thinking to herself how truly eccentric this man was.
“Who are you?” the man asked without looking up.
“Master, I am your disciple, Luo Jinxiao,” she quickly replied.
“Disciple? When did I ever take a disciple?” the man finally raised his head, revealing a face weathered by time, with deep-set eyes and an unkempt beard.
Luo Jinxiao handed over the spirit jade given by Qu Weiyin, but the man didn’t take it. He gave it a glance and huffed, “That girl knows how to cause trouble for me. Where’s your original spirit jade?”
“It was crushed by Junior Master Qu,” Luo Jinxiao answered honestly. This was her first formal apprenticeship, and though her new master seemed rather unorthodox, she still felt a bit nervous.
“She shattered your spirit jade, breaking the bond with you. You no longer qualify to be a disciple. We are not master and student. You should leave,” the man said, standing up with a yawn as he headed back into the house.
Hearing this, Luo Jinxiao felt a pang of urgency. She rushed forward, clasping her hands in plea, “Elder Xie, I beg you to take me as your disciple.”
Her original celestial veins and cultivation were gone. Though she could endure it, she felt a sense of loss. Qu Weiyin was right; in this world, only the strong survive. Joining the Wuhui Sect was the quickest way to restore her former abilities. She couldn’t just give up.
The man’s expression was wary as he flicked a pale green light from his fingertips into Luo Jinxiao’s temple. His impatience turned to shock, then quickly back to calm.
“I don’t take disciples. If you really wish to stay, you can help clean my courtyard,” the man said before disappearing inside.
Luo Jinxiao was still grappling with the shock of becoming a mere cleaner when the man popped his head back out, pointing to an inconspicuous little door. “Live there.”
With that, the main door slammed shut, leaving her in a cloud of dust.
Rubbing her nose vigorously, Luo Jinxiao sighed in frustration. She had been a prodigy in her past life, and now she found herself in such a predicament—a true fall from grace.
How tragic.
Meanwhile, in a tastefully decorated room, a white jade table stood by the window. Draped across it was a snow-white, lotus-like arm, with red sleeves spreading out, complementing the vibrant lotus flowers arranged on the table.
Qu Weiyin lightly pressed her lips together, her fingers brushing against the Crescent Moon and Stars sword resting on the table.
Suddenly, a golden light flared, and a miniature girl appeared on the table, dressed in the same red attire as Qu Weiyin, her expression one of disdain.
“I’ve told you countless times, stop wearing such flashy clothes. What’s wrong? Upset because you couldn’t become the Demon Lord in this lifetime?” The sword spirit, in the form of a young girl, sat cross-legged on the scabbard, arms crossed as she asked.
“I will embrace my demonic nature eventually,” Qu Weiyin replied calmly, taking a silk cloth from her sleeve to carefully polish her sword.
Bound by a soul contract, the sword spirit remained unchanged even after her reincarnation. Through the millennia, in this vast world, it was only this sword spirit that stayed by her side.
“Is that why you didn’t take in that child?” The sword spirit scratched her face. “But you’ve gone a bit too far. You’re no longer the ruthless Demon Lord but a righteous individual. Why bully a little girl?”
“It’s not bullying; I spoke the truth,” Qu Weiyin said, her narrow phoenix eyes seemingly capable of enchanting anyone as she blinked softly.
Unable to argue further, the sword spirit fell silent, watching Qu Weiyin polish the sword.
“She’s quite unusual,” Qu Weiyin suddenly remarked after a while, setting down the silk cloth. Her bangs obscured her eyes, hiding her expression. “Her celestial veins are unprecedentedly unique, which might attract many who covet them. If she remains so ordinary, she will eventually meet a tragic fate.”
“What’s so unusual about her? She’s just a young girl. By age, you could be her great-great-grandmaster.”
At this, Qu Weiyin frowned and flicked the sword spirit off the table.
“Ouch! Qu Weiyin, how dare you!” the sword spirit, her head stuck in the ground, grumbled.
Ignoring her, Qu Weiyin continued to attentively polish the sword, her gaze drifting out the window. Living atop a cliff, the endless sea of clouds outside was far more pleasing than the dreary Demon Realm’s rain.
“A restless fate, a true misfortune, destined for a demonic path,” she murmured, a slight smile tugging at her lips. If not for that little nuisance, she would have already unleashed chaos. Perhaps someone was hindering her in this life, or maybe she had become more serene with each reincarnation.
Nevertheless, the revenge she sought would continue.
Time flew by, and three days passed unnoticed.
Meanwhile, in a tastefully decorated room, a white jade table stood by the window. Draped across it was an arm as white as lotus root, with a red sleeve spreading out, complementing the vibrant lotus flowers arranged on the table.
Qu Weiyin lightly pressed her lips together, her fingers brushing against the Crescent Moon and Stars sword resting on the table.
Suddenly, a golden light flared, and a miniature girl appeared on the table, dressed in the same red attire as Qu Weiyin, her expression one of disdain.
“I’ve told you countless times, stop wearing such flashy clothes. What’s wrong? Upset because you couldn’t become the Demon Lord in this lifetime?” The sword spirit, in the form of a young girl, sat cross-legged on the scabbard, arms crossed as she asked.
“I will embrace my demonic nature eventually,” Qu Weiyin replied calmly, taking a silk cloth from her sleeve to carefully polish her sword.
Bound by a soul contract, the sword spirit remained unchanged even after her reincarnation. Through the millennia, in this vast world, it was only this sword spirit that stayed by her side.
“Is that why you didn’t take in that child?” The sword spirit scratched her face. “But you’ve gone a bit too far. You’re no longer the ruthless Demon Lord but a righteous individual. Why bully a little girl?”
“It’s not bullying; I spoke the truth,” Qu Weiyin said, her narrow phoenix eyes seemingly capable of enchanting anyone as she blinked softly.
Unable to argue further, the sword spirit fell silent, watching Qu Weiyin polish the sword.
“She’s quite unusual,” Qu Weiyin suddenly remarked after a while, setting down the silk cloth. Her bangs obscured her eyes, hiding her expression. “Her celestial veins are unprecedentedly unique, which might attract many who covet them. If she remains so ordinary, she will eventually meet a tragic fate.”
“What’s so unusual about her? She’s just a young girl. By age, you could be her great-great-grandmaster.”
At this, Qu Weiyin frowned and flicked the sword spirit off the table.
“Ouch! Qu Weiyin, how dare you!” the sword spirit, her head stuck in the ground, grumbled.
Ignoring her, Qu Weiyin continued to attentively polish the sword, her gaze drifting out the window. Living atop a cliff, the endless sea of clouds outside was far more pleasing than the dreary Demon Realm’s rain.
“A restless fate, a true misfortune, destined for a demonic path,” she murmured, a slight smile tugging at her lips. If not for that little nuisance, she would have already unleashed chaos. Perhaps someone was hindering her in this life, or maybe she had become more serene with each reincarnation.
Nevertheless, the revenge she sought would continue.
Time flew by, and three days passed unnoticed.
Luo Jinxiao, as Elder Xie had instructed, spent three days sweeping the courtyard. During these days, Elder Xie left the house three times, each time carrying plates of food, which he sniffed before feeding to his dog.
In her spare time, Luo Jinxiao practiced cultivation techniques from her previous life. Fortunately, the abundant spiritual energy on Wuhui Mountain allowed her to make some progress.
One morning, while she was energetically sweeping the courtyard, she heard the sound of wind near her ear. Looking up, she saw a small green bird flapping its wings above her head.
When the bird opened its mouth, it spoke in a clear voice: “Group lesson today. Come quickly.”
Luo Jinxiao guessed that Lu Fanzhi had kindly sent the message in secret, feeling grateful. She tossed aside her broom, informed the puppet, and dashed out the door.
She had been cooped up in the small courtyard for days, talking only to the puppet, and was eager for a change.
The grandest hall was Wuhui Palace, surrounded by white-brick and glazed-tile buildings, all connected by dazzling white jade steps—a stark contrast to her humble courtyard.
Soon, Luo Jinxiao found the teaching area, similar to what she remembered from her past life. The instructor stood on one side, with several low tables lined up on the other, filled with new disciples.
“You’re finally here. This is our first gathering, and today’s instructor is said to be very strict. If you’re late, you’ll be punished by kneeling,” Lu Fanzhi said, pulling her down beside her.
“Why don’t you have a uniform? Disciples of different levels in Wuhui Sect wear distinct uniforms for identification. You’re standing out too much like this,” Lu Fanzhi whispered.
Luo Jinxiao glanced around and indeed noticed everyone wearing light blue robes with white cuffs and belts. The women had their hair tied up with blue ribbons, looking fresh and elegant.
She wished she had the proper attire, but not knowing where to find one, she kept her head down, hoping not to attract attention.
“Greetings to the instructor,” everyone suddenly stood up to pay respects, and Luo Jinxiao followed, bowing her head low.
However, things didn’t go as she hoped. Soon, she heard a familiar voice, cold and indifferent: “The one who didn’t change clothes, lift your head.”
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