Chapter 15: If Life Were Only As It Was at First Meeting

Morning sunlight filtered softly through thin clouds, casting a warm glow on the neatly arranged buildings of Qingyun Sect.

Lin Nan and Shen Yuer were heading to the library pavilion to borrow cultivation manuals when they overheard a group of disciples gathered, discussing something with enthusiasm.

“Did you hear? The Beast Taming Peak just accepted a new disciple named Shen Yuer. Her beast-taming talent is incredible even the Peak Master can’t stop praising her!” a round-faced disciple said excitedly.

“Oh? What’s her background?”

“Shen, she’s from the Shen Family!”

The previously indifferent disciples suddenly perked up. “The Shen Family that controls the floating skyships?”

“Exactly!”

“Wow, even disciples from such a prestigious beast-taming clan have come to Qingyun Sect. This year’s new disciple induction ceremony is going to be lively. What’s this Shen Family disciple’s full name?”

“Hey! You don’t know? There are actually two new disciples with the exact same name this time—both called Shen Yuer.” The round-faced disciple cupped his hand to his mouth, voice dropping then rising again with excitement.

The listener blinked, as if smelling juicy gossip. “You mean…”

“Exactly, the Shen Yuer who’s already been confirmed by the Beast Taming Peak! There are two of them!”

…

…

“New here?”

The library pavilion was quiet. At the entrance, a Senior Sister raised her eyebrows but softened her expression when she saw the two pretty juniors. She stood and pointed them in the right direction.

As with all sect rules, new disciples were only allowed to borrow classics from the first floor, with limited quantities and borrowing periods. The Discipline Hall even conducted spot checks to assess the disciples’ mastery based on borrowing records.

Those found borrowing without studying would face punishment.

This rule pushed Qingyun Sect disciples to master more and more techniques, resulting in most disciples becoming versatile, with strengths from various schools.

Of course, this came with pros and cons. Those without innate talent often sank into the endless depths of classic texts, lost and silent.

“Xiao Lin, what book are you planning to find?”

Shen Yuer’s goal was clear. Even if Senior Sister Qiao didn’t say it, Shen Yuer could sense she had some talent in beast taming not much, but enough. Still, her real ambition wasn’t there.

It was better to focus on learning water magic.

With Long Breath Song as her foundation, she already had a base in water magic. Even if it was only a fragment, it was enough for a quick start.

Specializing in water magic would let her perform smoothly at the induction ceremony in three months.

At least… she could hold her own against the other “Shen Yuer.”

The problem was Lin Nan.

Last time she trained with Long Breath Song, she couldn’t sense any Qi at all… What would she do at the ceremony in three months?

She couldn’t rely on brute strength.

Hoping for a miracle from breathing techniques was unrealistic.

Lin Nan saw Shen Yuer’s concern and waved her off, “Yuer, you go study the sect’s water magic. I’ll wander around and see if there’s any technique that can help me sense Qi first.”

Shen Yuer hesitated a moment, then nodded, “Xiao Lin, don’t push yourself. If the new techniques still can’t help you find your Qi, maybe spend more time studying Long Breath Song carefully.”

“Maybe you’re the kind of late-blooming genius who just needs to master True Qi!”

The young girl clenched her fist to cheer Lin Nan on.

Lin Nan smiled faintly and sent Shen Yuer off.

Inside the library, Qingyun Sect disciples read diligently. In the vast first floor, only occasional footsteps and the rustling of pages broke the silence.

Lin Nan had expected shelves filled with rare, secret techniques and body tempering manuals but was surprised to find a dazzling variety of books.

From The Plum in the Golden Vase, Master Chen’s 100-Day Chef Training, to extinct sect’s secret arts; from Historical Chronicles to romance-style histories of the rivalry between the righteous and demon sects.

Everything imaginable, and some things unimaginable.

Lin Nan couldn’t help but be amazed. Now she understood why these righteous sects’ fortunes lasted tens of thousands of years surviving from submission to Monsters, to eradicating Demon Kingdoms, and finally wiping out the Monster Clan.

Experience was passed down, regardless of good or bad. At least it survived.

Lin Nan’s eyes nearly dazzled from the vast sea of books as she searched. Finally, her gaze settled on a renowned work titled Summoning Monster Arts.

Just by the name, the manual seemed perfect for her half-monster heritage.

But… the book was placed way too high.

She stood on tiptoes, reaching, her face showing a helpless smile.

Her index finger nervously twirled a strand of hair. After a moment’s hesitation, she quietly moved a creaking solitary stool over.

Balancing carefully with one foot on the stool’s center, she stretched her right hand, her slender jade-like fingertips poking and nudging the book sideways bit by bit.

Her expression was serious, as if battling a terrifying enemy.

Creak—

The stool cracked under the strain, wobbling beneath the white-haired girl.

“Eh? Eh eh??”

In the next instant, Lin Nan slipped and toppled sideways.

Whoosh.

“Please be careful.”

A slender but strong arm had suddenly wrapped around Lin Nan’s waist, gently catching her midair.

The arm bore calluses from years of sword training, but the touch was careful, as if afraid of shattering delicate porcelain.

A female voice spoke, cold and clear, like melting snow flowing over jade, but with a faint tremor hidden beneath so slight it could be mistaken for illusion.

Lin Nan looked up and met a pair of deep, dark eyes.

Those eyes were as black as a thousand-year-old frozen pond, yet faint glimmers trembled at the depths.

Black hair was loosely pinned with a plain silver hairpin, a few strands framing pale cheeks that only made her complexion seem even whiter.

“You…” Lin Nan began, but before she could say more, the woman’s other hand gracefully curled her finger.

A moment later, Summoning Monster Arts slid from the shelf, flipping softly as it fell, landing firmly in Lin Nan’s palm.

“Were you looking for this book?” The woman opened her palm, revealing the worn cover. Her knuckles whitened with the effort. “Summoning Monster Arts… an interesting title.”

Lin Nan stepped back, slightly bowing, her green eyes gentle.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “May I ask your name?”

“Everyone calls me Xun Lin,” the woman’s voice softened, her gaze lingering on Lin Nan’s white hair a little too long, making Lin Nan feel uneasy before she finally looked away. “You can call me that too.”

“Xun Lin…” Lin Nan repeated, then smiled, her eyes curved like crescent moons. “What a coincidence—my surname’s Lin too. You’re not… looking for me, are you?”

Her words were meant lightly, but Xun Lin stared at her steadily, complex emotions swirling in those black eyes. Words seemed stuck in her throat. After a long pause, she finally whispered, voice low like a sigh,

“What if I really am?”

Lin Nan’s smile faltered slightly.

Sunlight streamed through the window lattice, casting a sharp line of light between them. Xun Lin stood in shadow, half her face bright, half dark.

“Well then…” Lin Nan twisted a lock of hair around her finger, trying to mask the strange feeling in her chest, “It sounds like there’s some kind of regret.”

Xun Lin suddenly smiled faintly, a touch self-mocking, tinged with an indescribable sadness. “Maybe.”

She raised her hand as if to brush dust from Lin Nan’s shoulder, but hesitated and withdrew it.

“There’s no need to dwell on the past. Let it go,” Lin Nan looked up at her, voice soft as a feather, “If life were only as it was at first meeting, why would the autumn wind grieve the painted fan?”

Those words pierced through Xun Lin’s carefully maintained calm.

Her fist clenched tightly, knuckles whitening, and a barely audible murmur escaped her throat:

“But we… are long past first meeting.”

Lin Nan didn’t catch the words fully, nor did she want to.

Taking Summoning Monster Arts from Xun Lin’s palm, her fingertips brushed the other’s skin, cold as ice.

“I’ll be going then.”

Cradling the book, Lin Nan turned, but a soft rustle of pages sounded behind her.

She glanced back. Xun Lin still stood there, back turned, sunlight casting a shimmering halo over her hair.

The breeze drifted through the corridor, carrying distant shouts from the training ground, but could not dispel the faint, lingering scent of sandalwood.

The same scent that once filled the temple many years ago.