“Senior Brother, wipe the melted snow from your shoulder.”
Shen Qi suppressed the turbulent emotions in his eyes and stepped forward to hand Mu Congyun a handkerchief, his smile gentle and harmless.
The golden sun blazed brightly, causing the fluttering white snowflakes to melt before they even touched the ground.
Tiny droplets settled on their clothes, leaving faint damp marks.
Only after Shen Qi’s reminder did Mu Congyun notice the moisture on his shoulder.
He smiled at Shen Qi and took the handkerchief to wipe it away.
After finishing, he was about to return it when he realized the handkerchief looked somewhat familiar. A trace of hesitation flickered in Mu Congyun’s eyes.
“This handkerchief…”
It seemed to be his.
Shen Qi pursed his lips slightly, lowering his gaze with a hint of shyness.
“It’s yours. You used it to wipe my face when we returned from Nanhuai Town. I’ve kept it carefully all this time. Did you forget?”
When he lifted his eyes, the dark depths reflected scattered fragments of sunlight, stirring a soft urge in Mu Congyun to ruffle his hair.
So well-behaved.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t appropriate to do so in public.
Mu Congyun felt a faint regret as he handed the handkerchief back.
“It’s just a handkerchief. There’s no need to be so meticulous.”
Shen Qi tucked it away, smiling without a word.
Instead, he pointed at the despondent Jiang Ling and asked quietly, “Does that person often trouble you, Senior Brother?”
Not really. Out of the ten times Jiang Ling sought him out, nine ended in failure.
Thinking Shen Qi might have been frightened, Mu Congyun reassured him, “Don’t worry. He won’t cause any more trouble.”
Then he turned to Jin Ni beside them. “I’ll take Shen Qi to the Wan Scroll Pavilion to select a cultivation manual. You can head back first.”
Jin Ni was still buzzing with excitement, but the lingering sword intent around Mu Congyun-cold as frost and snow-made him shiver involuntarily.
Though the words were ordinary, they carried an intimidating chill.
Torn between wanting to stay and not daring to approach, Jin Ni could only glare enviously at Shen Qi before reluctantly muttering an “Oh.”
How could Shen Qi remain completely unaffected?
For a moment, Jin Ni wondered if his own cultivation was too low to withstand the aura.
But glancing at the other Xuanling disciples keeping a distance of nearly ten feet, he realized he wasn’t the odd one out.
Shen Qi was the anomaly.
As more disciples gathered in the training grounds, Mu Congyun had no intention of lingering.
Just as he grasped Shen Qi’s shoulder to leave, Jiang Ling’s voice suddenly rang out behind them- ‘During the ‘Xuanling Trials,’ you weren’t using your full strength, were you?
All those times I challenged you-did you find it laughable?”
Jiang Ling’s voice was heavy, as if weighed down by an immense burden, each word forced out with difficulty.
His grip on his sword was so tight his knuckles stood out, veins bulging.
He wasn’t an arrogant fool.
His confidence stemmed from his exceptional talent and skill.
Among the younger disciples of the Sword Inquiry Sect, he was the youngest but also the strongest.
Everyone said that in a hundred years, the sect would gain another peerless sword immortal in the Heavenly Realm.
When he narrowly lost by a single move in the Xuanling Trials, he had assumed Mu Congyun’s victory was a fluke.
He secluded himself for five years, training relentlessly, believing he could redeem his defeat-only to humiliate himself instead.
The gap between him and Mu Congyun hadn’t narrowed with time.
Instead, it had grown into an insurmountable chasm.
When the Beitian Sword silently hovered behind him, he tasted for the first time the bitterness of realizing that no matter how hard he tried, he could never catch up.
Years of chasing after someone so far beyond him now felt like a joke.
Mu Congyun turned back, his expression puzzled.
“Five e years ago I gave it my all, and five years later, I still do.”
After a pause, he couldn’t help adding: “Your character falls short of your sword.”
This was what he had always wanted to say to Jiang Lin.
The Radiant Sun Sword was bold and unconstrained, fierce and majestic, yet Jiang Lin’s temperament was far too petty.
Mu Congyun disliked associating with such people, but he had no intention of humiliating him either.
At least his sword deserved respect.
Having said his piece, Mu Congyun took Shen Qi away on his sword.
Leaving Jiang Lin standing alone, muttering his words repeatedly with an unsettled expression.
The watching disciples gazed at the retreating white figure in silence before erupting into excited discussions “The senior brother truly lives up to his reputation,” “Senior brother is even more handsome than the rumors said,” and similar topics.
It seemed no one would need to think of new conversation topics for the next month!
*
As the crowd at the training grounds dispersed, Xie Cifeng, who had been observing invisibly, prepared to leave.
Noticing Zhuge Song’s worried gaze fixed on his grandson below, he pulled him aside and reminded: “This is his tribulation—no outsider can interfere.”
He had seen it when Jiang Lin came to seek apprenticeship ten years ago.
That’s why he hadn’t relented even when Zhuge Song personally came pleading.
All famous swords require countless temperings.
Jiang Lin’s path had been too smooth for twenty years, his sword heart already deviated— this tribulation was inevitable.
If he overcame it, his blade would emerge sharpened; if not, this would be his limit.
Cultivators contend with heaven for their fate-those who don’t advance perish.
“I’m not going! Can’t I just watch from here?!”
Zhuge Song was hot-tempered. Already anxious about his grandson, seeing Xie Cifeng’s carefree demeanor with sleeves fluttering in the wind made him grumble:
“You who casually pick up a disciple with innate sword heart-how could you understand my troubles!”
Seeing no intention to interfere, Xie Cifeng stopped persuading him, smiling as he tucked his hands into his sleeves:
“Indeed, though having overly competent disciples does deprive one of some mentoring ] asures.”
“…”
Zhuge Song refused to engage.
Just be human, will you?
*
As the leading sect of the Daoist tradition with millennia of heritage, Xuanling Sect possessed countless cultivation methods stored in the Ten Thousand Scrolls Pavilion at Tianlu Peak.
The nine-story pavilion’s lower three floors housed beginner techniques and rare mortal-world texts accessible to any sect disciple.
The middle four floors contained advanced techniques for higher cultivation realms, guarded and accessible only with elder tokens-obtainable through merit points or as rewards.
The top two floors were sealed by the sect leader himself, their contents unknown even to Mu Congyun.
Rumors among disciples varied— some said they held techniques beyond the Ascendant Immortal realm, others claimed pre-Calamity forbidden arts, or that the Ten Directions Grand Array diagrams were once stored there…
After verifying their tokens, Mu Congyun took Shen Qi directly to the second floor.
“The first floor contains rare mortal-world texts. You can visit those later if interested.”
Shen Qi acknowledged while surveying the second floor’s layout.
The Tower of Ten Thousand Scrolls stood in a pagoda shape, narrow at the top and wide at the base. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined all four walls, while a spiral staircase wound upward through the center.
Though it had only nine levels, looking up gave one the dizzying illusion of unfathomable depth-as if the ceiling couldn’t be seen at all.
There must be some formation array placed on the higher floors.
Having been passed down through generations, the Mystic Mausoleum surely held many treasures.
In his previous life, Shen Qi had longed to explore it but never found the opportunity.
By the time he finally could, the Mystic Mausoleum’s grand halls had been reduced to ruins, and this very tower had collapsed.
Now was the perfect chance.
Shen Qi subtly withdrew his gaze, feigning naivety as he curiously flipped through the books.
Mu Congyun, worried he might not understand, patiently explained:
“The Mystic Mausoleum primarily cultivates spellcraft, swordsmanship, and divination. Spellcraft often involves various talismans, with the Minor Heavenly Stems Technique as its foundation.
There are many sword techniques, though most begin with the Supreme Unity Sword Manual. As for divination, very few study it—most practitioners attain enlightenment on their own, as there are no formal teachings. Aside from our master, scarcely anyone masters all three.
Disciples in the early stages usually choose one or two disciplines based on their aptitude and preference. The Twin Peaks of Clarity Hall houses a school where instructors teach daily lessons. New disciples who haven’t yet chosen a master all study there together.
Once they reach the Transcendent Shell Realm, they may select a peak and dedicate themselves to mastering one discipline.”
“Though you’ve already been accepted as a disciple, you haven’t yet begun cultivation. You may attend classes at Twin Peaks in the future.”
Privately, Mu Congyun hoped Shen Qi would choose swordsmanship—since he himself knew nothing of spellcraft or divination and could only offer guidance in swordplay.
Shen Qi caught the implication but had no intention of complying.
He was already a swordsman; there was no need to study it again.
Techniques could be faked, but sword intent was difficult to conceal.
Pretending to be a novice in front of someone like Mu Congyun, who possessed an innate sword heart, would be far too risky.
As they moved from the second to the third floor, Shen Qi paused before a row of shelves.
After a long moment, he finally picked up a manual, his eyes gleaming slightly as he asked, “Can I take this one?”
Mu Congyun glanced over and saw the title: Finger Arts of Parting Clouds and Toying with the Sun.
The name alone made him frown.
Skimming the contents, he realized this was an obscure method even among the eclectic Mystic Mausoleum’s collection.
The technique required a specialized weapon called “Tenfold Linked Rings”-ten rings worn on each finger.
Spiritual energy would be channeled through these specially crafted rings to form threads of power.
According to the manual, mastery of this art allowed one to “part clouds and toy with the sun,” hence its grandiose name.
“…..”
It technically counted as a spellcraft method, but it was clearly one of those flashy, impractical techniques meant to dazzle rather than deliver.
Mu Congyun hesitated, torn between honesty and kindness.
Shen Qi looked at him anxiously, as if fearing rejection. “Is it… not allowed?”
“……”
Unable to bring himself to crush the boy’s enthusiasm, Mu Congyun silently pulled out a copy of the Supreme Unity Sword Manual and placed it in his hands.
“Try both.”
Shen Qi let out an “Oh,” his eyes curving into crescents as he happily cradled both manuals to have them copied-originals couldn’t leave the tower, so disciples made duplicates to take away.
Mu Congyun trailed behind, deeply concerned about his junior brother’s future cultivation path.
After copying the manuals, they still needed to select weapons.
Not far from the Ten Thousand Scrolls Pavilion stood the Armory Terrace, where all newly initiated disciples could select a weapon.
Any subsequent damage would require redemption with merit points or spirit stones.
Mu Congyun led the way inside, intending to help pick a suitable sword.
But the moment Shen Qi entered, he eagerly asked, “Do you have the Tenfold Linked Rings?”
“Tenfold Linked Rings? That’s quite an obscure choice-hardly anyone uses them,” remarked the armory master with surprise.
Shen Qi nodded firmly.
“I want them.”
“Wait here, let me check.”
The master disappeared into the storeroom and emerged about fifteen minutes later, handing over a dusty set of rings.
“Well, we actually have a set.”
The set consisted of ten silver-gray rings, each engraved with intricate patterns.
Their material was unknown, but they were remarkably lightweight and flexible.
After carefully cleaning them, Shen Qi slid each one onto his fingers and displayed them for Mu Congyun.
His fingers were pale and slender with well-defined joints.
The ten rings looked aesthetically pleasing but appeared rather impractical—all flash and no substance.
Mu Congyun hesitated before offering a compliment.
“Not bad.”
Secretly, he resolved to dig out his own used sword later.
Noticing his expression, Shen Qi allowed a faint smirk as he examined the silver-gray rings closely.
His choice wasn’t merely to conceal his prior sword training-he had practiced this very technique in his past life and possessed an identical set.
Channeling spiritual energy into threads, these rings could kill with ruthless efficiency, reducing enemies to dust.
They were called “Red Mansion Shackles.”