That morning, everyone on Big Bamboo Peak of Qingyun Sect was in high spirits — the disciples especially, each wearing a smile on their face. Though nerves were not entirely absent, they were for the most part swept away in the tide of excitement.
Among the group, only Senior Brother Song Daren, Second Brother Wu Dayi, Third Brother Zheng Dali, and Fourth Brother He Dazhi had attended the previous Qingyun Sect Seven Peaks Tournament. Fifth Brother Lü Daxin and Sixth Brother Du Bishu were disciples Tian Buyi had taken on over the past few decades and had never witnessed it; as for the young Tian Ling'er and Zhang Fan, they were even less acquainted with this grand occasion of Qingyun Sect that came but once every sixty years.
Tian Ling'er was in the highest of spirits at that moment. While the Tian Buyi couple made their final preparations, she latched onto Song Daren — the most seasoned of them all — and chattered away without pause: "Senior Brother, will there really be that many fellow disciples attending the Seven Veins Martial Competition?"
Song Daren wore a broad smile, his mood clearly excellent. "The Seven-Vein Martial Assembly is the grandest occasion our Sect holds. Every vein within our order regards it as a matter of the utmost importance. What's more, the fellow disciples selected to represent their respective veins in battle are all exceptional figures, each outstanding in their own right — as for how spectacular and thrilling the scene will be, that hardly needs saying."
Just then, the fourth brother He Dazhi, who had been listening nearby, walked over and gave Tian Ling'er a sly wink, smiling: "Junior Sister, you don't know the half of it — Senior Brother still has words left unsaid."
Tian Ling'er gave a noncommittal hum, paying no mind to the astonishment written all over Song Daren's face, and pressed on: "What is it, Fourth Senior Brother?"
He Dazhi smiled and said: "At the Grand Martial Assembly, with hundreds of fellow disciples watching from the sidelines, the victor stands on the stage to thunderous applause — that sense of triumph is a given. But what if some beautiful, newly-arrived junior sisters from other branches were to be utterly captivated by Senior Brother's dashing presence, screaming and cheering his name — wouldn't that be an even greater joy in life?" At that, he turned to Senior Brother Song Daren with a perfectly straight face. "Am I right or am I right?"
Song Daren's face suddenly flushed red.
Tian Ling'er saw it all and found it truly strange. "Senior Brother, why did you suddenly blush?"
Song Daren shook his head like a rattle-drum, saying over and over, "No, no, how could I possibly be blushing..."
He Dazhi cleared his throat, and only then noticed that the other martial brothers around him had gathered at some point without his realizing it. The younger ones, like Du Bishu and Zhang Fan, appeared none the wiser, but Wu Dayi and Zheng Dali both wore knowing smiles on their faces. He laughed and said: "Well, well, Second Senior Brother and Third Senior Brother are here too. My memory has been rather poor of late—I seem to have forgotten the name of a certain young and lovely fellow female disciple who caught First Senior Brother's attention during the last Grand Trial, back when he won two matches in a row to reach the third round…"
Wu Dayi immediately continued: "Can't quite remember clearly either, but I think she was a fellow junior sister from Bamboo Peak—her looks were exceptionally beautiful, though as for her name…"
Zheng Dali, face full of smiles, said, "Well, the exact words — we've all forgotten those. But the person who clapped the loudest on the spot, trading glances with Senior Brother — what that person looked like, we all still remember perfectly well."
*Splash*!
The moment those words left his mouth, the crowd broke into an uproar. Tian Ling'er led the charge with her interrogation: "Senior Brother, just which fellow female disciple could possibly be *that* good to you?"
Song Daren's face flushed with embarrassment. He shot He Dazhi a fierce glare, then forced a dry laugh. "Well, there is something to it—but don't go listening to Fourth Senior Brother's nonsense. Junior Sister Wenmin of Zhu Peak only cheered us on a few extra times out of respect for our Master's Wife, that's all."
Dazhi immediately said: "Senior Brother, that's odd—Second Senior Brother, Third Senior Brother, and I had no idea what that person's name was, so how did you come out with it on the spot? Though, now that you mention it, Senior Sister Wenmin has always been *particularly* fond of you, Senior Brother…"
The hall erupted in laughter. Song Daren knew he had spoken out of turn—and knew all too well that in a clash of words he was no match for He Dazhi, the shrewdest man on Dazhu Peak. The more he said, the worse it would get. He gave a snort, fell back on his famously thick skin, and forced a dry laugh. "What a tedious lot. Heh heh. I'll go see if Master and Mistress are ready."
Tian Ling'er was about to press further with her questions, but Song Daren had already slipped away faster than the wind—in the blink of an eye, he was nowhere to be seen. Left with no other choice, she grabbed He Dazhi by the arm, her bright, sparkling eyes brimming with excitement. "Senior Brother, come on, tell me—what does Senior Sister Wen Min actually look like?"
He Dazhi smiled and said: "Junior Sister, don't you often return to Bamboo Peak with our master's wife to visit Master Shuiyue? How could you have never met Senior Sister Wenmin? She is Master Shuiyue's most prized disciple."
Tian Ling'er shook her head. "Whenever Mother and I went to Bamboo Peak, we always went straight to see Master Shuiyue—I barely got to know any of the senior martial sisters there. Would you just hurry up!"
He Dazhi smiled and said, "No rush, no rush. Today we are heading to Changmen Tongfeng for the Seven Veins Martial Assembly—you will most likely get to see her there."
Tian Ling'er let out a cry, her eyes darting about as though something had suddenly dawned on her. "No wonder—the moment I got up this morning I could see Senior Brother practically glowing. So he had an ulterior motive all along!"
Everyone froze for a moment, then understood at once and burst out laughing. Tian Ling'er laughed along with them, and what little nervousness she had felt about the Seven Peaks Tournament dissolved into nothing. Her gaze drifted around the room—everyone wore broad smiles and seemed to be in fine spirits. But when it landed on Zhang Fan, something made her pause. Though a smile sat on his face, Tian Ling'er had been closer to him than anyone over the years, and one glance was enough to see that he appeared somehow distracted, his mind elsewhere.
While everyone was deep in lively banter, Tian Ling'er quietly pulled Zhang Fan aside and whispered, "Fan, is something the matter?"
Zhang Fan froze for a moment. The corners of his mouth moved, and his right hand instinctively went to his chest. In the end, he still said, "I'm fine, Senior Sister."
Tian Ling'er glanced at him and said straightforwardly, "What is it? Let me have a look."
Zhang Fan hesitated a moment, then drew the object from his breast and held it up for Tian Ling'er to see. She would have been better off not looking—one glance only deepened her bewilderment. "What are you doing carrying around this grimy old fire poker?"
Zhang Fan looked at Tian Ling'er, whose face was full of surprise — and yet even with a faint trace of displeasure in her expression, she was still strikingly beautiful. He murmured haltingly, "By Master's grace, I get to go and broaden my horizons as well. My cultivation is shallow — I have no Artifacts, and I wouldn't know how to use them anyway…"
Tian Ling'er suddenly understood, yet couldn't hold back a burst of laughter. "So that's how it is! You're going to enter the Seven-Branch Martial Competition with this—this fire poker? In Qingyun Sect's two thousand years, having a Sixth Senior Brother who forged dice into an Artifact was already strange enough—but who could have imagined that you, that you would actually, actually bring a fire poker along… Ha ha ha ha, you're killing me!"
The disciples of Big Bamboo Peak who had been standing nearby heard Tian Ling'er suddenly burst into hearty laughter and came over one after another to learn what had happened, whereupon they too could not help breaking into a fresh round of laughter. Seeing the smiling, delighted faces of his senior brothers and sisters all around him, Zhang Fan felt a sudden flare of anger rise in his heart.
The rage from the depths of his heart passed in the blink of an eye, yet it had been so fierce that it nearly left Zhang Fan breathless.
He lowered his head, gripping tightly that ugly fire-poker, its familiar cold seeping into his palm.
"Fan," Tian Ling'er suddenly dropped her smile, her expression turning grave. "I'm sorry."
※※※
Zhang Fan shuddered, raising his head.
Tian Ling'er said: "I had been meaning to give you some treasure to help you save face, so the other disciples wouldn't laugh at you when you go out. But these days Mother has been pushing my Cultivation so hard that I completely forgot."
Zhang Fan instinctively shook his head. "Sister, your Cultivation is what matters. There is no need to think of me any longer."
Tian Ling'er patted him on the shoulder and smiled. "But it's nothing to worry about—everyone knows what you're capable of. Think of this trip as a chance to broaden your horizons." She lowered her voice. "And if anyone gives you trouble, make sure you come find me. I'll stand up for you right away."
Zhang Fan looked into his senior sister's warm and gentle gaze, not doubting her promise for a single moment—even the goodwill woven into the words of all those around him reached him clearly. And yet, and yet—what was this emotion that still surged so fiercely within him? What kind of flame blazed in the depths of his heart, burning so intensely that it nearly left him unable to breathe?
Tian Ling'er was still all smiles, patting her favorite junior martial brother on the shoulder and whispering, "Let me tell you, there are loads of fun places up on Tongfeng. This time when we go, let's sneak off and play around—what do you say?"
Zhang Fan's gaze drifted across that beautiful face before him, yet all at once he found he dared not look at her directly. He lowered his head, his heart caught between sweetness and unease—the tangled feelings of a young man's heart, as though a hundred emotions had surged at once. Softly, he murmured, "Sis."
Tian Ling'er broke into a smile, then heard He Dazhi call out from behind her: "Master and Mistress are here."
Everyone turned to look, and saw Tian Buyi and Su Ru emerge from the Hall of Quietude. Tian Buyi was clad in a long blue robe, his bearing solemn and dignified. Were it not for his somewhat shorter stature and the slight roundness of his belly, he might truly have projected the awe-inspiring air of a grandmaster worthy of reverence. As for Su Ru, she was a sight that made every eye light up. Already blessed with beauty beyond the common measure, she wore today a pale green dress, her hair adorned with carved jade blossoms and golden hairpins. Her brows arched like distant mountains veiled in indigo mist, her skin gleamed like congealed cream and white jade, her gaze flowed soft as still water, and her red lips curved in a smile — truly a vision to captivate the hearts of all who beheld her.
Song Daren followed behind the couple, his expression as solemn as could be. Yet the moment the junior disciples caught sight of him, strange smirks crept across their faces one by one—half-smiling, inscrutable looks that were anything but proper. Behind Song Daren, the yellow dog Da Huang and the monkey Hui had trotted out as well. Hui seemed by now to have grown quite accustomed to riding on Da Huang's back; but the instant it spotted Zhang Fan standing ahead, it let out a rapid string of chittering cries, leapt down from Da Huang's back, darted over to Zhang Fan, and in two or three bounds had scrambled up onto his shoulder.
Tian Buyi glanced over his disciples and gave a slow nod. "Very well." He swept his right hand outward; a hand seal formed at his palm, and with a flash of crimson light his famed immortal sword, *Scarlet Spirit*, was summoned forth—its scarlet radiance blazing ten thousand zhang, a supreme treasure of the immortal path without question. Tian Buyi was about to step forward when something suddenly tugged at his trouser leg. He looked back and found Da Huang clamped onto it—the yellow dog he had raised from a pup, shaking his head to and fro, letting out a steady string of low whimpers, tail wagging with great enthusiasm, his pair of dog eyes unblinking as they fixed squarely on Tian Buyi.
Tian Buyi hesitated a moment, muttered something under his breath, but swept his sleeve nonetheless, scooping up Dahuang. He then stepped lightly onto the Scarlet Spirit Sword, exchanged a parting word with Su Ru, and took the lead, splitting the sky as he departed.
Su Ru smiled lightly and shook her head, saying to the others, "You all come along." She paused, then turned to Song Daren: "Daren, Fan's cultivation isn't sufficient — take him with you."
Song Daren nodded. "Yes."
Su Ru gave a nod. Without any visible motion or effort, a pale green radiance flashed to life—matching the color of her robes—and carried her straight up into the blue sky, chasing after the crimson streak of Tian Buyi.
Among the disciples of Big Bamboo Peak, Wu Dayi, Zheng Dali, and Lü Daxin had yet to reach the Fourth Layer in their cultivation and were unable to command Artifacts. Song Daren therefore walked over to Zhang Fan, while the remaining three — He Dazhi, Du Bishu, and Tian Ling'er — each took one of the weaker disciples under their wing and set off on their separate ways. Among them, Tian Ling'er's Artifact was the "Amber Crimson Silk," and He Dazhi's was a brush called the "Rivers and Mountains Pen," which suited his lifelong love of books. Most comical of all, however, was Sixth Brother Du Bishu's dice Artifact: the moment it was conjured, white light flashed, and three dice swelled to ten times their original size, spinning and tumbling through the air without pause as numbers cycled endlessly across their faces. For a gambling implement, nothing in the world could surpass it.
The Fifth, Lü Da, stepped forward with great caution to examine it closely, then turned to Du Bi with a pained look on his face: "Sixth, this thing of yours couldn't have fallen down from up there, could it?"
Du Bi: "Fifth Senior Brother, why don't we make a bet — if it falls from above, you win, and I'll…"
Lü Daxin said, "Pah, pah, pah—would I dare win this bet?"
Du Bi: "Well, that's fair enough!"
Song Daren walked up to Zhang Fan and smiled. "Fan, are you ready?"
Zhang Fan was about to nod when suddenly Hui, the monkey perched on his shoulder, let out a sharp cry, startling them both. They watched as Hui pointed upward one moment, then turned to gesture at itself while looking at Zhang Fan the next. Zhang Fan paused, taken aback. "You want to come too?"
Hui immediately broke into a wide grin. Zhang Fan hesitated, glancing over at Song Daren. Song Daren thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "Master has already taken Da Huang along anyway — we might as well bring Hui too."
Zhang Fan was delighted in his heart and gave a nod, while Ash was even more overjoyed.
Song Daren turned to the others and said: "Let's go as well, or Master will scold us for being late." Everyone murmured their agreement and flew off, each riding their own Artifact. Before departing, Tian Ling'er stepped over to Zhang Fan's side and whispered a word of advice: "Xin, hold on tight to Senior Brother."
Zhang Fan gave a slight nod. "Senior Sister."
Tian Ling'er smiled at him, formed a hand seal, and her artifact, the Amber Crimson Silk, erupted in a blaze of rosy light and tore through the void. Song Daren then summoned his own artifact, the immortal sword "Ten Tigers." As the head disciple of the Dazhu Peak lineage, while his junior martial brothers cultivated different artifacts, he himself had always walked the path of the immortal sword. The "Ten Tigers" sword was yellow from tip to hilt, four chi long and three fingers wide—considered rather large among immortal swords, though it was a pity that an artifact's power could not be measured by its size.
Just then, Song Daren pulled Zhang Fan up onto it. Having ridden Tian Ling'er's Amber Vermillion Silk before, Zhang Fan knew what to expect — as his feet touched down, the fabric dipped beneath the "Ten Tigers" stance before steadying itself. He was no longer too alarmed. It was Grey Monkey who seemed to sense something amiss, clinging tight to Zhang Fan's head.
Song Daren smiled faintly. "Junior Brother, let us go." With that, he raised his right hand and pointed with a technique seal, and a low, resonant hum rose from the blade of the "Ten Tigers" immortal sword. The sword, which had been drifting placidly a foot above the ground, suddenly shot up three feet higher, and Zhang Fan instinctively tightened his grip on Song Daren.
Just then, a mountain breeze swept in. The tip of the "Ten Tigers" sword slowly angled upward—by the time it had tilted to roughly seventy percent, Zhang Fan was clinging to Song Daren for dear life to keep from being thrown off—when a sharp shriek rang out and the "Ten Tigers" shot straight upward at full speed.
Zhang Fan stood atop the immortal sword, holding Song Daren tightly in his arms. Anxiety gripped his heart, yet he could not bring himself to shut his eyes no matter what. He watched the verdant peaks of Dazhu Peak recede further and further away; then, all at once, a wall of white swallowed his vision—they had plunged into a thick bank of clouds, and nothing could be seen at all.
In every direction — above and below, before and behind — stretched a boundless expanse of cloud and mist. A great wind howled without cease, biting into his face with a stinging pain. Zhang Fan's body trembled slightly, half from tension, half from exhilaration. To ride free through the blue-white clouds — what a dream this was!
The sea of clouds stretched endlessly in every direction, and Zhang Fan had long since lost track of how much time had passed. Just as his troubled heart was slowly beginning to settle, fate seemed intent on startling him once more — the "Ten Tigers" immortal sword let out a sharp, piercing shriek that tore through the air as it burst free from the sea of clouds.
That boundless expanse of blue stretched above them like an inverted deep sea — a blue so pure it was almost absolute, without horizon or limit, magnificent and overwhelming. As they burst through the sea of clouds, the white billows beneath their feet scattered like splashing water, trailing long plumes of mist in the wake of their passage — as though reluctant to let them go, like gentle ripples stirred across a great river, drifting upward into the empty air before slowly settling back down into the cloud sea below.
The sky stretched vast and clear. The immortal sword "Ten Tigers" shot upward until the boundless sea of clouds beneath his feet lay nearly three hundred zhang below; only then did Song Daren level the blade and begin flying straight toward Tongfeng.
In the distance, a towering, majestic peak stood proud and unyielding against the sky. There, amid the drifting wisps of white cloud, the faint toll of a bell echoed through the boundless heavens. Tongfeng — it seemed as though it truly led to the azure beyond.
Zhang Fan held his breath and gazed into the distance. Beneath the boundless azure expanse, beside towering mountain peaks, countless streams of multicolored light danced and swirled — and the closer one drew to Tong Peak, the denser those lights became.
Zhang Fan recognized that all of those were Artifacts wielded by the disciples of Qingyun Sect. Because Artifacts were divided according to the Five Elements, they shone in a variety of different colors, presenting a dazzling, breathtaking display. He watched as those beams of light fell like a rain of colored stones, surging one after another toward the mountain peak — a truly magnificent spectacle. And together with the "Ten Tigers" immortal swords, he and his companions quickly merged into that brilliant, multicolored torrent as well.
※※※
With a whistling sound, Song Daren carried Zhang Fan aloft on their sword and descended onto a vast plaza. The moment their feet touched the ground, Monkey Ash leaped from Zhang Fan's shoulder and began bounding excitedly across the plaza, eyes darting in every direction. Zhang Fan paid it no mind, sweeping his gaze across the scene: white jade balustrades lined the perimeter, and an immortal aura drifted through the air. At the center of the plaza, nine great bronze cauldrons stood arranged in three rows of three. Most astonishing of all was the roiling cloud mist that billowed and churned across the entire plaza — to walk through it was to walk among the clouds themselves, filling one with the sensation of having transcended into immortality.
Zhang Fan took in the sight, struck by a sense of deep familiarity. He recalled that this was the "Cloud Sea"—one of the so-called "Six Sights of Qingyun"—which he had visited when he first ascended Qingyun Mountain. Five years had passed, yet the place remained unchanged as ever, as beautiful and ethereal as he remembered. Only today it was far more bustling than it had been five years ago.
The plaza was now alive with noise and bustle. The disciples of Qingyun Sect who had come to attend the Seven Veins Martial Assembly appeared to be gathered here for the time being; seen from afar, heads bobbed in every direction, numbering no fewer than several hundred. Most of those standing on the plaza wore Qingyun Sect attire—some in Daoist robes, some in ordinary dress, men and women alike—with the younger generation especially well represented. Many among them radiated a heroic spirit, a testament to the sect's years of tireless effort in nurturing and cultivating its young disciples.
Though hundreds stood gathered in the square, it remained strikingly spacious. Song Daren swept his gaze across the expanse, when a clear, bright voice rang out from the distance: "Senior Brother, we're over here!"
Song Daren and Zhang Fan looked over — it was the people from Big Bamboo Peak. Needless to say, the one calling out was Tian Linger. They were standing beside a massive bronze cauldron in the middle of the plaza, and Tian Linger was waving at them.
Song Daren gave a sound of acknowledgment and walked over alongside Zhang Fan. Along the way, Zhang Fan let his gaze wander across the square, where disciples from the various other peaks stood gathered in clusters of three and five, every one of them animated and chattering about something — all of them, it seemed, brimming with anticipation for the Grand Martial Assembly soon to come.
They walked up, and He Dazhi, standing behind Tian Ling'er, spoke first: "Senior Brother, the journey went smoothly, I trust?"
Song Daren smiled and said, "It's not as if this is my first time here — what could possibly go wrong?"
Tian Ling'er glanced at Zhang Fan and smiled. "Fan, was the scenery along the road pleasant?"
Zhang Fan recalled the breathtaking scenery he had just witnessed from atop Qing, and said with heartfelt sincerity: "Absolutely magnificent."
Tian Ling'er giggled and patted his shoulder. "You'd better work hard yourself. Once you've forged an Artifact and learned to soar through the sky, I'll let you fly up there and look to your heart's content."
Zhang Fan said nothing, but a smile spread across his face as he gave a firm nod.
Song Daren glanced around, then turned to He Dazhi. "Fourth Junior Brother, where are Master and Master's wife?"
He Dazhi said: "The few of us followed Master and Master's Wife here. The attending Daoist Brother Changmen then led Master and Master's Wife up to the Yuqing Temple above—the Elders of the Seven Lineages wished to gather and finalize some details regarding the Grand Martial Assembly. Master instructed us to wait here."
Song Daren gave a nod, then beckoned with his hand, drawing his junior brothers close around him. He glanced around and lowered his voice: "Why do I see so many unfamiliar faces from the other lineages? You arrived here a while before me—have you picked up any news?"
He Dazhi shook his head, sharing the same feeling. It seemed that over the years, the various branches of their sect had taken in quite a few new disciples."
Second Brother Wu Dayi glanced around — there were quite a few people gathered. But I'd wager that when the stage matches begin tomorrow, most of the participants will be the same senior brothers as before, the ones with deep Cultivation foundations. After all, when it comes to cultivation experience, they still hold the edge—
Song Daren suddenly let out a sigh. "Martial brother, it may not necessarily be so. Do you still remember that young disciple, Lin Jingyu, who came from Longfeng Sect to deliver a message two years ago?"
Wu Dayi froze for a moment, then fell silent. The others exchanged glances, none of them speaking. Only Zhang Fan felt a sudden rush of complicated emotions sweep through his heart — something like joy, something like envy, and perhaps even a trace of jealousy.
"What does that wretch amount to?" someone suddenly said coldly.
Everyone was startled. The one who had spoken was none other than Tian Ling'er—her pretty face flushed a faint red, her beautiful eyes wide open, as she said with barely concealed fury: "If he doesn't show up for this competition, fine. But if he dares to come, he'd better hope he runs into me—and when he does, I'll settle the score with him once and for all!"
The disciples of Big Bamboo Peak exchanged glances with one another. The Sixth, Du Bishu, had always been sharp-witted and quick to react. He laughed and said, "Junior Martial Sister is absolutely right. If things really do work out that conveniently—heh heh—fellow Senior Martial Brothers, why don't we make a wager and see who comes out on top?"
"Away with you, away!" Standing beside him, the fifth brother Lü Daxin sent him sprawling with a kick.
Song Daren smiled faintly, a thought just beginning to take shape, when a soft cough sounded at his back. A woman's voice drifted over, low and unhurried: "Senior Brother Song, it has been quite some time."
Song Daren suddenly felt as if struck by a heavy blow.