Song Daren froze. The voice lingered in his ears like celestial music, and a moment later he snapped out of his reverie and spun around like lightning — only to find five or six female disciples standing behind him. Judging by their robes, they were from Bamboo Peak, the branch within Qingyun Sect that had always taken in female disciples alone.
The one who stepped forward to greet them first was a beautiful woman with a melon-seed face—her hair like drifting clouds, her skin white as snow, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Zhang Fan glanced at her, then turned to ask which lineage this senior martial sister belonged to—only to find that from Wu Dayi to Zheng Dali to He Dazhi, every single one of them wore a peculiar grin. His thoughts stirred. He turned to look at Song Daren, and there was his usually sharp and capable senior brother, standing in a foolish daze, smiling like an idiot, seemingly at a complete loss. Zhang Fan pondered for a moment, and the woman's identity came to him.
Sure enough, He Dazhi and the others standing nearby had been expecting quite a show — only to find Song Daren suddenly lapse into a daze. That stupefied expression was more than the disciples of Grand Bamboo Peak could bear, and even the female disciples from the opposite peak couldn't help but cover their mouths and giggle. The beautiful young woman standing before Song Daren flushed ever so slightly and called out in a soft voice: "Senior Brother Song."
Before Song Daren could even react, He Dazhi—already thoroughly impatient—cut in with a laugh: "Haha, Senior Sister Wenmin, it's been many years since we last met. How have you been lately?"
Wen Min's bright eyes drifted to the lean figure and lingered there a moment, then she smiled and said, "You must be Senior Brother He Dazhi?"
He Dazhi nodded repeatedly. "That would be me. What an excellent memory you have, Senior Sister Wen — we only met once, sixty years ago, and yet you still remember me. I am truly overwhelmed by the honor."
Wen Min smiled softly. "Senior Brother held his own against a formidable opponent in the last competition and truly distinguished himself — of course I remember."
He Dazhi's face flushed red. At the previous Seven Peaks Tournament, he had run into a powerful expert from Changmen Tongfeng in the very first round of competition; though he had fought with everything he had, he was still defeated. But shrewd as he was, he laughed it off on the spot, letting the old matter slide—better left unmentioned. "My meager Cultivation is far, far beneath that of Senior Sister Wen and our Senior Brother. By the way, ever since the last Grand Tournament, our Senior Brother has been thinking of you constantly."
Wen Min's face tinged faintly red, but she said nothing, merely stealing a sidelong glance at Song Daren from the corner of her eye. The young junior sisters standing behind her, however, had already dissolved into laughter. Song Daren, a rough and boisterous man by nature, found himself at this moment as flustered as a bashful young boy, and hastily protested: "I—when have I ever been always..."
"What?" Before he could finish, he was cut off by a young woman standing behind Wenmin on the opposite side. "So you no longer miss our Senior Sister Wenmin?"
Song Daren's heart gave a start. He stole a furtive glance at Wen Min, only to find her already watching him, her beautiful eyes unblinking. Anxiety surged through him, and the words burst from his lips: "Yes, I have been thinking of—"
"Ha!"
The people of Big Bamboo Peak all burst into laughter together, especially the several young women standing behind Wen Min, whose laughter rang out particularly bright and loud—drawing the disciples of the surrounding peaks to cast more than a few curious glances their way.
He Dazhi waited for the laughter to die down, then turned serious and addressed the women of Bamboo Peak: "Senior martial sisters, what our eldest senior brother actually means is this—it is not that he never thinks of Senior Sister Wenmin, but neither does he think of her every single moment…"
"What is that?" a female disciple of Bamboo Peak called out with a laugh.
He Dazhi glanced at the woman and smiled. "He thinks of Senior Sister Wen once every quarter-hour, then murmurs her name once the quarter-hour after — that is precisely why he does not miss her every single moment."
Everyone burst out laughing. Song Daren shot He Dazhi a fierce glare, yet the corner of his eye drifted toward Wenmin — only to find her lips curved in a faint smile, seemingly not the least bit annoyed. A quiet, secret pleasure rose unbidden in his heart, though his voice came out in a mumble: "Junior Sister Wen, they just love to joke around — don't mind them."
Wen Min smiled, then turned to quiet the junior sisters behind her—who were shaking with barely-contained laughter—before fixing him with a long, searching look. "What's going on in your head?"
Song Daren pulled a long face, making a few inarticulate sounds in his throat yet unable to form a single word. Seeing him like this, the young women could not help but burst into laughter again. Wenmin shook her head, shot him a glare, and paid him no further mind. She walked up to Tian Ling'er and took hold of her jade-white hand, examining it carefully. "So you must be Junior Sister Ling'er?"
"That's right," Tian Ling'er said in surprise. "Senior Sister Wen, how did you know about me?"
Wen Min smiled. "You used to come up to our Bamboo Peak often with Martial Uncle Su Ru to visit Master, so we've known you for a long time. After a few years apart, you've truly grown even more handsome."
Tian Ling'er took Wenmin's hand and laughed. "Not at all—how could I ever compare to Senior Sister Wenmin's looks, lovely as a flower?" At that, she dropped her voice and leaned in close, whispering, "Our Senior Brother is absolutely head over heels for you, Senior Sister."
Wen Min glanced at Song Daren, who immediately broke into a silly grin. She shook her head and murmured, "That senior brother of yours — what a blockhead."
Tian Ling'er burst out laughing, and immediately felt as though she and this Senior Sister Wenmin were kindred spirits who had met far too late in life. Wenmin gave her a light tug, and Tian Ling'er followed her into the cluster of women from Zhu Peak. A few animated exchanges later, she had already blended in as though she had known them for years — laughter and lively chatter drifted out from the group at every turn, leaving Song Daren and the others standing awkwardly to one side.
Song Daren stood off to one side, his heart full of the urge to step forward and speak with Wen Min, yet he could not find the words to begin. In the end, he simply remained rooted to the spot. To say nothing of the others — even Zhang Fan, watching from where he stood, could only shake his head in resignation.
Just then, Zhang Fan suddenly heard Du Bi beside him say: "So many more people have come."
Zhang Fan felt a flicker of curiosity and turned to look—then his whole body gave a sudden start. Coming toward him from the distance was a group of people, more than thirty in all, every one of them clad in white robes, radiating a sharp, proud energy; arrogant and high-handed would not be too strong a way to put it. Yet the few at the front carried themselves with exceptional bearing, and none more so than the figure leading them: white robes like driven snow, handsome features, an air of easy elegance—who else could it be but Qi Hao?
Qi Hao!
Zhang Fan stared at the group of people walking over, silently repeating that name in his heart, when he heard Fourth Senior Brother He Dazhi suddenly let out a soft laugh beside him and murmur, "The Dragon Peak lineage certainly doesn't lack for numbers."
At that moment, Qi Hao also caught sight of the Big Bamboo Peak disciples and immediately walked over, the others behind him following along. Drawing near, he cupped his fists toward Song Daren with a smile: "Senior Brother Song, we meet again."
Song Daren dared not be remiss and returned the salute: "Senior Brother Qi, you've come as well. I wonder whether you will be joining this grand examination?"
Qi Hao smiled and said: "I originally had no intention of participating. However, my master felt that my Cultivation still needs tempering, and so commanded me to join. Thus I have shamelessly claimed a spot from our lineage."
Song Daren nodded with a smile. "How wonderful. With Senior Brother Qi's talents, the victor this time can be none other than you."
Qi Hao shook his head repeatedly, saying with modesty, "Not at all—Senior Brother Song, you flatter me."
While the two exchanged pleasantries, Zhang Fan's eyes were wide open, searching behind Qi Hao — and sure enough, within moments he spotted Lin Jingyu, who stood behind Qi Hao, sweeping his gaze back and forth, clearly looking for someone as well. Their eyes met, and both were overcome with joy. They stepped forward at the same time, clasped each other's hands, and though it seemed there were a thousand things to say, not a single word would come.
After a long silence, Lin Jingyu finally spoke: "Fan, are you entering the Grand Trial this time?"
Zhang Fan gave a nod and smiled. "Master has been very good to me — he was gracious enough to let me participate. What about you?"
Lin Jingyu said: "What's so great about having that short master anyway? Two years ago when I went to see you, the way he treated you…"
Zhang Fan hastily said, "He's not normally like that—he was just angry."
Lin Jingyu rarely had the chance to reunite with this childhood friend and was unwilling to let such tedious talk dampen either of their moods. He promptly steered the conversation elsewhere and said with a grin: "You little rascal—two years apart, and you've shot up this tall?"
Zhang Fan gave him a punch and laughed. "What's this? Only you're allowed to grow up — I can't get taller too?"
Lin Jingyu burst out laughing. The two of them chatted freely off to the side—this time there were no elders or teachers around, so they could say whatever they pleased, and no one paid them any mind. But mid-conversation, Zhang Fan happened to glance back and noticed that at some point, Qi Hao had spotted Tian Ling'er, Wen Min, and the cluster of girls standing nearby, and was now walking over to greet them. For no reason he could name, a sharp ache pierced his chest, and even his expression changed.
Lin Jingyu caught it all and asked in surprise, "What's wrong, Fan?"
Zhang Fan shook his head and forced a smile. "It's nothing," he said. Yet even as the words left his lips, his eyes kept drifting toward Qi Hao's side.
By this time, Qi Hao had already walked up to Tian Linger and Wen Min. He smiled and greeted Tian Linger first: "Junior Sister, do you still remember me?"
Tian Ling'er had been chatting merrily with Wenmin and the other Bamboo Peak disciples when Qi Hao suddenly appeared. For reasons she could not quite explain, her face flushed red and her voice grew small: "Senior Brother, hello."
From afar, a faint blush colored Tian Ling'er's delicate face, and her large, dewy eyes seemed at first glance like something out of a dream. Yet that beautiful countenance, reflected in Zhang Fan's eyes from across the distance, struck him like the slash of a blade—a pain that cut deep into his heart.
"Fan, what's wrong? Why has your face suddenly gone so pale?" Lin Jingyu asked with concern, not understanding what had happened. "Are you feeling ill?"
"…it's nothing, I'm fine." Zhang Fan said softly.
From a distance, Wen Min's mind was nothing if not keen. A single glance at Tian Ling'er's expression told her roughly what was going on. She turned to Qi Hao at once and said, "Senior Brother Qi, how is it that you only have eyes for Junior Sister Tian? Have the rest of us sisters from Bamboo Peak simply ceased to exist in your sight?"
At her words, the women standing behind her all broke into teasing clamor. Qi Hao hurriedly said: "Senior Sister Wen, what are you saying? How could I ever dare treat the senior sisters of Bamboo Peak so carelessly?"
Wen Min let out a soft laugh. "Senior Brother, now that you're once again competing in the Seven Peaks Tournament, I imagine you're determined to take the title this time?"
A keen light flashed in Qi Hao's eyes. "In the last Grand Tournament, Senior Sister passed three consecutive rounds, yet narrowly fell to Senior Brother Xiao Yicai of Changmen — a truly regrettable loss. After a full sixty years of intensive cultivation, nurtured with the utmost care by Master Shuiyue, she now stands as the foremost expert of Bamboo Peak. Surely she, too, has come with her sights set on the championship of this Grand Tournament."
Wen Min smiled and said, "I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare. How could I presume to compete with you, Senior Brother Qi? And as for the title of Bamboo Peak's foremost expert — that is something I am even less worthy to claim."
Qi Hao furrowed his brow. "Senior Sister Wen, you're being too polite…"
Wen Min smiled and said: "Not so — my master, the Venerable Shuiyue, is a woman of great learning. My own aptitude is dull, and I have failed to inherit even a fraction of her true teachings. Our lineage has other sister disciples of remarkable talent; Senior Brother Qi would do well to keep that in mind."
A sharp gleam flashed through Qi Hao's eyes, yet his face wore a smile as he said: "All the better, then. Whoever could make Senior Sister Wen willingly concede defeat must surely be a once-in-a-generation genius. I truly look forward to meeting such a person at the earliest opportunity."
Wen Min gave a soft laugh, nodded in acknowledgment, and said nothing more, pulling the still-reluctant Tian Ling'er aside.
Just then, a piercing shriek suddenly rang out above the plaza—sharp as a thunderclap, shaking the entire gathering. Hundreds of Qingyun disciples on the plaza all raised their heads to look. A streak of crimson light shot through the air and halted in an instant above the square, a red celestial sword radiating trails of immortal energy as it hovered at mid-height. Atop it stood a Tongling Peak head-gate Daoist, who called out in a clear, carrying voice to the disciples of the various veins assembled below:
"Fellow disciples, the Perfected Sect Master and the venerable elders have issued their command — all disciples participating in the Grand Martial Assembly of the Seven Veins are to proceed to Jade Clarity Hall at once."
A mountain wind swept in, wisps of white cloud drifting overhead. Among the hundreds of Qingyun disciples assembled on the plaza, a stir ran through the crowd—someone stepped out and walked toward the front.
Zhang Fan had assumed that the more senior disciples would simply summon their Artifacts and soar off through the air, yet to his surprise, none of them seemed to have any such intention—every last one walked along obediently on foot. Walking alongside Lin Jingyu, he glanced to either side and saw Tian Ling'er, Wenmin of Bamboo Peak, and the other young women walking together, all smiles and apparently in fine spirits, while Song Daren and the rest of the Big Bamboo Peak disciples followed along close behind.
As for the Dragon Peak lineage, seven or eight figures had broken away from Qi Hao's group and were now making their way elsewhere, greeting the disciples of the other lineages who had likewise stepped out. Qi Hao in particular called the names of disciples from the various lineages with easy familiarity, exchanging pleasantries with effortless charm, and the disciples of every other lineage received him with smiles in return — he was clearly a man of very wide acquaintance.
"Senior Brother Qi is very good at making friends," Lin Jingyu remarked, walking by Zhang Fan's side, noticing that Zhang Fan's gaze had been lingering on Qi Hao. "What's more, his cultivation is profound, and he has earned the deep trust of our master, True Person Cangsong—so everyone in the Qingyun Sect shows him great respect."
Zhang Fan took in the words, his expression blank, and simply gave a slow nod.
At the far end of the square stood the Rainbow Bridge, one of Qingyun's Six Scenic Views. Both Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu had crossed this very spot five years ago, on the day they were rescued and brought up to Qingyun Mountain. Now, returning to this familiar place, they couldn't help but feel a quiet surge of emotion.
Stepping onto the Rainbow Bridge — its form carved as if by the hand of gods — and watching the clear water streaming ceaselessly down both sides, still refracting into a mesmerizing, seven-colored rainbow, they were no longer the two boys who had known nothing of the world five years ago. They were now disciples of Qingyun Sect. Walking at the very back of the crowd, Lin Jingyu suddenly let out a quiet sigh: "Five years."
Zhang Fan said nothing, only walking forward. The scenery before him was just as it had been years ago — as the rainbow bridge climbed higher, white clouds gradually sank beneath his feet, and the azure sky, clear as washed silk, arched wide overhead.
"Why don't you ride your sword up?" Zhang Fan suddenly asked.
A look of mild surprise crossed Lin Jingyu's face. "You don't know? We disciples are not permitted to fly by sword anywhere near the main hall of Tong Peak. I heard it from Senior Brother Qi Hao — for one thing, it's a matter of showing respect to our elders; within the sacred grounds of Yuqing Temple, one must ascend on foot. For another, I was told that when our Qingyun Sect was first established, the Founding Patriarch set an extraordinarily powerful ward at the summit of Tong Peak to protect this place. It is called the 'Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation.' Anyone who dares fly unbidden through the air above Tong Peak will be cut down by it without fail."
Zhang Fan was taken aback — how strange that among so many skilled fellow disciples, not a single one was riding their sword. "Right, is that 'Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation' truly formidable?"
Lin Jingyu's gaze turned toward the towering peaks looming ahead — he had never laid eyes on them before, yet he could tell they must be extraordinarily formidable. Word had it that the 'Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation' had been handed down from the Founding Patriarch of Qingyu, and a thousand years ago the Patriarch had refined it further, elevating its might to a peerless height. From that day on, no one had ever dared to make trouble on our Qingyu Mountain."
Zhang Fan followed his gaze toward that towering, majestic peak and exclaimed in admiration, "How incredible!"
The two of them walked side by side, following the group of several dozen across the Rainbow Bridge. Along the way, Zhang Fan studied the young elite of the Qingyun Sect — more than sixty in all, the majority of them men, with perhaps thirteen or fourteen female disciples, most of whom wore the attire of Bamboo Peak. Yet regardless of gender, nearly every one of them carried themselves with uncommon bearing: the men upright and distinguished, the women graceful and beautiful, a gathering of exceptional faces wherever the eye fell. Anyone who saw them could only think that the Qingyun Sect was in capable hands, its future bright.
Beyond the rainbow bridge lay the Jade Water Pond, dwelling place of Qingyun Sect's mountain-guardian spirit beast, the Water Qilin. Unlike five years ago, when Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu had first come here, the ancient creature—reverently addressed by Qingyun Sect disciples as the "Spirit Venerable"—was not lurking beneath the surface of the pond, but had long since sprawled out on the open ground beside the water, basking lazily in the sun. Even so, its air of drowsy indolence was no different from what it had been five years before.
The Qingyun disciples descended from the rainbow bridge, bowing one by one before the great hulking creature, then climbed the stone steps along the pool's edge and made their way toward the lofty main hall of the Yuqing Temple. Lin Jingyu and Zhang Fan followed at the back of the group, and Lin Jingyu leaned close, whispering to Zhang Fan, "Do you still remember what happened to us when we first arrived?"
Zhang Fan nodded, his voice still tinged with lingering fear: "I remember. Got soaked to the bone, but that was the least of it—laying eyes on a beast that enormous scared me half to death."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Lin Jingyu's lips. "Back when we were living in Caomiao Village, when did we ever lay eyes on something like this? I used to think the biggest animals in the world were the black bears on Qingyun Mountain."
Zhang Fan burst out laughing. In an instant, everyone around turned to look, and Zhang Fan gave a start, hastily stifling his laughter. Lin Jingyu was startled as well, clearing his throat with a dry cough or two, his face coloring faintly.
The others glanced over a few times, then turned and went on their way. Only then did Zhang Fan let out a breath of relief, turning to look at Lin Jingyu. Their eyes met, and both broke into a gentle smile.
The dozens ahead quickly moved on. Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu descended the Rainbow Bridge and arrived at the edge of the Jade Water Pool, where they bowed respectfully to the Water Qilin. From the very beginning, however, the creature had been sleeping with exceptional soundness—no matter who bowed before it, there was not the slightest response. At this moment it lay buried in slumber, its snores rolling like thunder, utterly oblivious to the fact that these two Qingyun disciples were paying it their respects.
Zhang Fan and Lin Jingyu had not expected the Water Qilin to acknowledge them at all. After paying their respects, they climbed the stone steps. Zhang Fan said, "Jingyu, the last time you came to Big Bamboo Peak, you were in such a hurry that I never got to congratulate you properly. To think that in just a few years, you've already attained such a level of cultivation."
Lin Jingyu smiled. "It is all thanks to my master, Perfected Cangsong, and my senior brothers' devoted guidance." Here he paused, his voice gradually turning somber. "In truth, during the first few years, every time I sat down to cultivate, I would think of those blood-soaked corpses lying in Caomiao Village. The grief was unbearable, and so I steeled my heart and threw myself into my practice — hoping that one day I might avenge my parents and the people of that village."
Zhang Fan's heart ached. He reached out and patted Lin Jingyu on the shoulder. Lin Jingyu steadied himself, composed his emotions, then broke into a smile. "Alright, enough about the past. What about you — how has your Cultivation been going?"
Zhang Fan shook his head. "I know I have never been as clever as you. All these years on Big Bamboo Peak, Master and the senior brothers have treated me very well — but I am too dull, and my progress in cultivation has been painfully slow. I have truly let Master and Senior Brother down."
Lin Jingyu gave a snort. "Stupid? Not in the least. If you ask me, there's an eighty-percent chance that short master of yours is deliberately making things difficult for you—refusing to teach you the true cultivation methods of Qingyun Sect."
Zhang Fan had not expected that Lin Jingyu would still be nursing a grudge against Tian Buyi over a dispute from two years ago. He smiled and said, "He wouldn't—my master isn't that kind of person. Anyway, let's drop it. Oh, by the way, is your Artifact still that Dragon-Slaying Sword from two years ago?"
Lin Jingyu nodded with a smile and said: "This divine sword is the supreme treasure of the Dragon Peak lineage. My master, in his great generosity, passed it on to me — not only is its power immense, but the sword possesses a spiritual sentience of its own, which has been of tremendous help to my cultivation."
It would be best if Zhang Fan's inner envy also showed on his face."
Lin Jingyu smiled and asked in return: "What about you, Fan? Do you have any Artifacts?"
Zhang Fan blanked for a moment, then instinctively reached into his chest and felt for that pitch-black "fire poker." A faint chill, barely perceptible, crept up into his palm.
"No," he murmured, "my cultivation is not yet sufficient — I cannot wield an Artifact."
Lin Jingyu didn't mind, seemingly having anticipated this all along, and consoled him: "It's alright, Fan. As long as you cultivate diligently, you'll surely succeed. Besides, we're still young — let's just treat this as a chance to broaden our horizons."
Zhang Fan's lips twitched slightly. He looked at his old friend's kindly face and listened to his gentle words, yet felt not the slightest comfort.
Care to find out?
Everyone thought he had come here merely to see the world. The thought struck him, and a sudden, inexplicable anger flared in his chest — like a fire burning deep within — yet in an instant it scattered and was gone. He lowered his head and said nothing, with not even the will to blame his friends, for he himself now believed the same.
As if responding to his thoughts, the "fire poker" still pressed against his palm within his embrace suddenly stirred with a faint reaction—in an instant, a surge of frigid energy swelled and spread directly from his palm all the way up to his shoulder.
Zhang Fan was greatly startled, but immediately realized that this sensation posed absolutely no harm to his body—on the contrary, it felt cool and rather pleasant. He glanced to the side, only to find that Lin Jingyu was completely oblivious to it.
Just as Zhang Fan breathed a sigh of relief, a deafening roar suddenly exploded from somewhere behind them. Zhang Fan might have expected as much—but even Lin Jingyu, whose cultivation far surpassed his, shuddered in the exact same way: ears filled with a thunderous boom, the ringing relentless and unceasing. Even some of the Qingyu Sect disciples walking ahead of them appeared to have suffered the same.
Everyone was utterly astonished. How could such a strange sound arise here, upon the sacred grounds of Qingyun Sect? One by one they turned around, and at what they saw, their shock deepened into something beyond words.