Chapter 19

The little puppet shuffled over, gears whirring softly.
Its master sat motionless on the threshold with his back turned, head bowed, arm braced on his knee, hand covering his brow and eyes so tightly that no expression could be seen.
The step was taller than the puppet, but it deftly stretched its arms, pressed down, and swung itself nimbly inside, then scampered in front of its master.
Its master’s hands had always been so steady, hands that crafted the most intricate artifacts, or could, without hesitation, twist an enemy’s head clean off. Even through bloody injuries, those hands never trembled as they claimed a monster’s core in one swift motion.
But right now, blue veins bulged beneath the skin, and his arms shook ever so slightly.
What’s wrong? Qianji circled around, craning its head up for a closer look.
Master’s expression was strange, was that a smile, or was he on the verge of tears?
Qianji was an old, old puppet. Compared to its clueless siblings, it liked to think it was clever and often understood its master’s moods… but this time, Qianji was at a loss.
“Master, aren’t you happy?” the little puppet cocked its head. “Mu Xue, Master Mu, is finally here, isn’t she?”
It had special sensors that could detect spirit bodies: ghosts, wandering souls, even divine souls. Just now, an unfamiliar spirit had appeared in its scan.
“She was just here,” Master finally spoke, lips parting, his voice eerily calm. “She was so close, I could almost feel her lean down to speak to me, just like before. But I didn’t dare move. I was terrified if I did, she’d vanish.”
Qianji thought this sounded odd. Spirits didn’t have shapes or faces; they weren’t male or female. How could Master tell that ghostly presence was leaning in, or even speaking?
Cen Qianshan lowered his hand and slowly stood, moving to the table. He reached for the half-finished necklace that still sat there.
He turned it over in his palm, a smile slowly breaking through. “It was her. It was really Master. This time, it’s real.”
In this snow-bright courtyard, for a hundred years the soul has wandered, too lonely to disturb. Each glance says nothing, but in silence, the dreamer knows.
A weak shaft of dawn shone through the window, spotlighting the desk frozen in a century’s silence.
A single droplet caught the light, falling onto the tabletop below.
Where did that drop come from? Curious, Qianji scurried up onto the table.
It was a tear.
The little puppet sorted through its databanks for a definition of the word.
Humans, when sad, let water leak from their eyes. And when happy, they make a sound called laughter.
So… was Master happy or sad right now?
Humans are truly complicated creatures, Qianji thought. So much so that even a genius like me may never really figure them out.
In Fuwang City, the now-melted snow turned the streets to muck, rowdy, filthy, alive with noise.
The people here had long since forgotten that century-old disaster. In this new city, they’d started life over from scratch, painting a new portrait of the world.
he neon lights on the billboards pulsed in endless cycles, while vendors lined the street, shouting themselves hoarse,
“Grilled corn! Fresh off the coals, get your piping hot corn here!”
“Jianbing rolls! Delicious jianbing, want a set, sir?”
“The latest sequel to A Thousand Mountains of Heartbreak, Loveless Snow! Hot off the press, limited copies, get it now or miss out forever!”
Inside an old-fashioned clinic, a customer stepped in, face shielded by a thick cloak that draped over all but his eyes.
He approached the counter, placing a freshly repaired medical artifact on the battered wooden surface.
An elderly healer peeked up from behind the counter. “Rare to see you, really, since I moved here, Master Cen doesn’t grace my humble place in person much anymore, eh?”
He fitted a monocle to his eye and examined the artifact carefully, nodding in approval. “Impeccable handiwork. Thanks for bringing it by.”
“Uncle Nian,” the man said, “I’m heading for the Dongyue Temple Shrine. Need to pick up some pills from you, just in case.”
“The shrine ruins? Not the sort of place for a stroll. Hold on, I’ll pack you plenty.” The old healer fussed over his rows of pill bottles, lining them up one by one. “Revitalization pills, detox powder, Mind-Stabilizing Elixir, Regenerative Balm… Oh, and here, Vital Essence Blood Pills. Keep them close, that place is a nightmare, doesn’t matter how high your cultivation is, inside the Godpath, everyone’s like a newbie.”
The young man nodded, packing each bottle and jar into his storage pouch.
The old healer twirled his goat beard. “At least you’re getting smarter about it. Finally coming to me for medicines ahead of time. If your master knew you’d learned to take better care of yourself at last, he’d be overjoyed.”
A rare smile touched the man’s distant, cold lips as he dipped his head in thanks.
As he was about to leave, the healer called after him,
“That’s a Twin-Divine Domain, remember. You’ll run into folks from the Immortal Spirit Realm in there. Don’t be fooled by their otherworldly looks, behind all that dignified talk, they’re sly as foxes.”
Cen Qianshan stepped out of Uncle Nian’s clinic, right as the apprentice from the next-door bookstore stationed himself out front, hawking new releases.
“Don’t miss out, come on over, take a look!” he shouted. “Brand new chapter of Legends of Love and Moonlight! ‘Reveling in Wild Willows at Fuwang City, Playing in the Snow with Qianshan at Night.’ Spicy content, steamy plots, not to be missed!” He’d set up a stool, perched atop it, calling in every direction.
His shouting worked, a crowd of young female cultivators in silk and gold hairpins burst into the shop, giggling as they elbowed their way in, spiritual stones pressed into eager hands. The place was packed and buzzing in seconds.
“Aren’t you afraid Master Mu’s... er, widower, will hear you’re spreading such stories? He might just storm in here and flip your shop!” a customer joked as she left with a copy.
“And miss out on all the fun?” The apprentice was quick-witted. “Here in Fuwang City, it’s all knife-edge living! The more famous you are, the more people gossip. We’re just keeping Master Mu’s legend alive. If we didn’t, a hundred years later, who’d still remember her, right? Besides, that one still holed up in the old house, hasn’t set foot at market in years, what’s there to worry about?”
The customer dropped her voice, whispering to her friend, “True. If that one really cared, he’d have smashed the place already. Maybe everything in these stories is one hundred percent real.”
Her friend hid a grin behind her sleeve. “Who could blame him? Say what you want, but with that face and that body around all day, who could resist?”
“Shh, better zip it. If he actually hears us, I’ll be the first to run!”
The apprentice blinked; the book in his hand had vanished, replaced by a spiritual stone pressed to his palm.
He looked around in confusion, just catching a glimpse of a cloaked figure disappearing down the street.
Up on Jiulian Mountain, inside Huayu Hall.
Mu Xue hugged a pile of books to her chest as she headed for class with Ding Lanlan.
“Did you hear?” Lanlan launched into the latest gossip from her family. “The Divine Path at the Dongyue Temple just opened up. That’s a realm left behind by an ancient god, it hasn’t appeared for centuries! Every sect’s on alert. They say even the sect leader went to check it out and only just got back.”
“What’s inside the shrine?”
“So much stuff! Legendary herbs, rare treasures, maybe even secret manuals… Actually, who really knows?” Lanlan shrugged. “Most people only get a look at the outskirts, you can’t get into the real domain, no one knows what’s truly inside. But it’s a twin domain, so you’ll run into demonic cultivators if you make it in.” Ding Lanlan hooked her fingers like claws, looming in mock menace. “Afraid of demonic cultivators? Rawr!”
“Terrified, so scared.” Mu Xue played along, grinning.
Just then, a group of female disciples brushed past, bumping into Mu Xue and sending her books scattering across the ground.
Instead of an apology, one girl let out a sneer. “Exams are just around the corner, and here you are giggling away. Pathetic.”
Her name was Lin Yi, another disciple with family connections, notorious for butting heads with Lanlan and picking fights at every chance.
Mu Xue grabbed Lanlan, stopping her from storming after them, crouching down to gather her spilled books herself.
Lanlan stomped her foot, fuming. “You’re too soft! Why are you always such a pushover?”
“It’s just a small thing. Not worth the trouble this time.” Mu Xue replied, all gentle calm.
Just this once, she’d let it slide. But next time? Who knows... Sweet little buns can have sharp teeth, too. “Much more important, do you know what’s going to be on our big exam, Lanlan?”
The Huayu Hall holds its grand exam every three years, with every peak’s leader setting questions for all the outer sect disciples. Those with the highest scores have a shot at being chosen as true inner sect disciples by the elders of the main peak.
And this wasn’t just for the hundred or so newcomers. Any outer disciple from previous years who’d made big progress or a breakthrough could sign up for another chance.
So at every exam, talent gathered in full force. But the Golden Core mentors who actually wanted to take new disciples? Only a precious few, making the competition brutal.
“I’ll let you in on a secret, but you can’t tell anyone!” Lanlan glanced around, then whispered in Mu Xue’s ear, “Honestly, it’s not that hard. My aunt’s definitely going to test us on making something by hand right there on the spot. Doesn’t matter what it is, just needs to be crafted while extending your spiritual sense and using as much power as possible. The Xuandan Peak leader always tests potions, you’ll ace that one. Tiezhu Peak makes you spar with their senior brothers for a few rounds, win or lose, they just want to see potential. The sect leader loves quizzing people on wild trivia, rare facts. If you want to enter Qingjing Peak, you’d better spend more time in the library reading up on both Immortal and Demon Realm histories...”
“Where’s Mr. Su from Xiaoyao Peak?” Mu Xue asked.
“Him? Xiaoyao Peak is a pipe dream. Master Su almost never takes in disciples. The last person he accepted was Senior Brother Ye, and that was over a decade ago.” Ding Lanlan shot her a look. “You seriously want to join Xiaoyao Peak, huh? That place is practically a ghost town. Hardly anyone lives up there.”
Mu Xue felt a twinge of disappointment. Out of all the Golden Core cultivators here to give lectures, it was Mr. Su of Xiaoyao Peak and Mr. Ding of Biyou Peak whose philosophies resonated with her most.
Both these peak masters had broad, open minds and were fair in their opinions about the Demon Spirit Realm. Mu Xue, though no longer a demonic cultivator, didn’t enjoy hearing people bash the demonic path or wanted a master who chanted “vanquish evil, defend the Dao” like a mantra all day.
But between the two of them, Mr. Ding specialized in artifact refinement, a field Mu Xue knew all too well. If she ended up at Biyou Peak, she’d have to tiptoe around, hiding the truth for a long time.
First, that sounded exhausting. Second, and maybe she couldn’t say why, Mu Xue just couldn’t bring herself to deceive Mr. Ding like that.
“Honestly, the exam for brand-new disciples is just for show. Kids who’ve only been on the mountain for three months can’t possibly compete with the senior students.” Ding Lanlan whispered to Mu Xue, “The teachers watch everyone all the time anyway. They already have a list in their heads of who they want as apprentices. I’m telling you this, but don’t you dare spread it around.”
Mu Xue nodded solemnly, promise sworn.
After class, Mu Xue caught Ding Lanlan whispering in Xia Tong’s ear: “I’m only telling you, don’t let it get out, okay?”
In the dining hall, she saw Xia Tong leaning in to whisper to Yuanzi: “I’ll tell you what’s on the test, but don’t spread it around.”
So, in no time at all, every disciple on the mountain somehow knew the exam topic and started cramming with renewed vigor.