A sudden, dazzling smile bloomed across Gu Qingxi's exquisite face. It was a beautiful, arresting sight, yet charged with lethal intent. Her eyes, previously calm and observant, now burned with unbridled fury. The elder's cold, utilitarian demand had ripped open scars—vivid echoes of impossible choices from a world drowned in ash and desperation.
"YOU CHOOSE A FART, MUD-BRAIN!"
The roar ripped from her throat, raw and primal. Almost simultaneously, her blade flashed clear of its sheath. It wasn't a calculated strike, nor a feat of technique. It was rage incarnate. Pure, unadulterated need to shatter the cage of an impossible question.
Qi surged from her core, potent and unexpected, flooding the humble steel of her sword. It didn't just glow; it screamed. The blade trembled, its humble essence crying out under the torrential force being channeled through it. The air around Gu Qingxi's outstretched weapon warped violently, like heat haze over scorched earth. She swung—not at the elder, but at the suffocating concept of the choice itself.
The ancient figure's placid expression shattered into wide-eyed terror mere moments before the blade would have cleaved him. His illusionary form flickered, dissolving into nothingness faster than thought. His disembodied voice, thin and strained with shock, screeched back through the distortion as he vanished:
"YOU PASS!!!"
His final syllable cracked into a near-squeal. How in the Nine Heavens is a mere First Layer Qi Refining novice capable of unleashing such soul-shaking fury? Even as a spirit projection, the sheer, predatory intent of that blow had vibrated his spectral core. He'd blinked out just in time. Had he lingered a fraction of a heartbeat longer… well, even illusions weren't meant to feel phantom pain like that!
The phantom elder disappeared. The fury-fueled momentum of Gu Qingxi's strike did not. The unleashed energy slammed into the empty space where he'd stood. Stone screamed, tearing open a jagged, forearm-deep trench across the chamber floor. Residual sword energy lingered, humming like disturbed hornets, setting the very walls trembling.
And then, with a sound like cracking ice, the weapon in Gu Qingxi's hand disintegrated. The common steel couldn't endure the monstrous surge forced through it. It shattered, layer by layer, collapsing into metallic dust that drifted away on the disturbed air, vanishing into nothingness.
Within the Grand Audience Hall:
The air crystallized. Every gaze fixed on the Reality Mirror. Every pair of lungs held a frozen breath. The thunderous crash. The vanishing elder. The scarred earth. And finally, the silent implosion of an ordinary sword under impossible pressure.
The silence stretched, thick with disbelief. Even the Sect Leader's practiced calm slipped momentarily.
"This Qingxi girl…" one Peak Lord finally murmured, his voice thin. "She truly rests only at the First Layer of Qi Refining?"
Another Peak Lord, his hand unconsciously resting on his own sword's pommel, whispered, "That strike… its latent force bordered perilously close to the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment…"
The Sect Leader cleared his throat, unable to suppress a surge of longing despite the brewing storm. "Observe! Witness it yourselves!" His voice rang out, infused with reluctant awe. "Such innate ferocity, the instinctive fusion of Qi and edge… it radiates the true aura of a Sword Immortal! Truly, she was destined for our Heaven's Chasm Peak!"
"SECT LEADER SENIOR BROTHER!" The protest was a thunderous triplet. The Lords of Ling Yue, Yu Ling, and Liuyun Peaks snapped their furious glares towards him simultaneously, their unified cry echoing through the jade pillars. Only Zi Lin's Lord remained a silent enigma.
Under the sudden weight of three pairs of blazingly aggrieved eyes, the Sect Leader wilted slightly. He coughed awkwardly, offering a sheepish wave. "Ah… very well, very well. Have your fierce little seedlings. Remember the harmony of the Sect, though! Negotiate, dearest Junior Brothers and Sister! No bloodshed in the Jade Hall, if you please?" He sank back into his seat, muttering almost inaudibly. The coveted seedling was undeniably lost to him.
Lu Tianyu, lurking near his Master's shadow, felt like his nerves were being plucked. He tugged urgently at Mo Tiancheng's sleeve, his voice a frantic hiss. "Shifu! My future Shimei! They're circling like vultures! Claim her! Before they scatter with your prize!"
Mo Tiancheng, the Lord of Zi Lin Peak, remained seated, his expression the still waters of an unfathomable lake. Slowly, deliberately, he placed his jade teacup down without a sound. Then, with a grace that seemed to defy the very commotion around him, he rose. His movement wasn't sudden; it was the unfurling of a peak wreathed in dawn mist.
"Senior Brothers, Junior Sister," his voice, smooth as silk and calm as ancient stone, washed over the charged atmosphere. "I find myself deeply… honored by your effusive praise for my youngest disciple." He allowed a fraction of a beat, his gaze resting gently on the flummoxed faces. "In due course, I shall bring her to each Peak to pay her proper respects to her esteemed Martial Uncles and Aunt. I trust," he added, his lips curving into a gentle, implacable smile, "you will have worthy gifts prepared? Especially you, Third Martial Uncle," his gaze shifted to the Yu Ling Lord, radiating profound gratitude, "since you've already bestowed such a… significant token upon her." The implication concerning the ancient egg hung delicately in the air.
Sect Leader: "...?"
Peak Lords: "...?!?"
Heads swiveled, eyes blinked in collective bewilderment. Every syllable seemed clear. Their combined meaning? Utterly alien.
"Gu Qingxi," Mo Tiancheng announced, his smile deepening into dazzling serenity, "is my newest personal disciple."
The impact of his words detonated silently within each mind.
Shameless!
Hogswill!
Where's your dignity?!
Absolutely brazen!
The denials roared in the hearts of the Sect Leader and his three martial siblings. Yet, locked within their chests. Not a single vocal cord dared vibrate. The collective weight of history, reputation, and Mo Tiancheng's ineffable presence pressed down on them like a mountain.
Lu Tianyu witnessed the transformation – the indignant fury of the Peak Lords freezing solid under his Shifu's serene gaze. A fierce, giddy elation surged through him. This! This was why Shifu had remained silent! Not indifference, but supreme confidence! He hadn't fought; he knew no fight was necessary!
Secured! Absolutely secured! Shimei stays ours! Shifu! Shifu is truly… Lu Tianyu's mind scrambled for words. ...Shifu isdazzling in his arrogant coolness! Unbeatable! Magnificently, unassailably dominant!
"Now, if you will excuse me," Mo Tiancheng's voice cut through the petrified silence like a warm knife through snow, "I shall go collect my youngest disciple." He gave a final, graceful nod that encompassed the room, his robes whispering with contained power. Turning, he strode towards the great doors, Lu Tianyu falling into step beside him with poorly concealed glee. The elaborate welcome ceremony waiting on the main dais clearly wasn't worth his time. His prize waited elsewhere.
The heavy jade doors swung shut behind them.
The Grand Audience Hall exploded.
"SECT LEADER SENIOR BROTHER!" The Yu Ling Lord slammed his fist onto an armrest, veins bulging in his neck. "LOOK AT HIM! Look at his sheer, overweening presumption! He grows bolder with every passing moon!"
"Indisputably!" The Ling Yue Lord snarled, his usually stern face contorted. "Senior Brother, our Youngest Martial Brother disregards all propriety! How dare he lay claim like a hawk snatching fledglings?!"
"And his arrogance!" The Lady of Liuyun Peak's voice was a hiss of ice. "Senior Brother! He scarcely recognizes your authority as Sect Leader! He strides as if heaven itself rests beneath his soles! You must—"
The Yu Ling and Ling Yue Lords shot her a brief, appraising glance. Ah. Clever Junior Sister. Wielding indignation like a scalpel, subtly carving a path towards inciting the Sect Leader against their rival.
The Sect Leader absorbed the torrent of righteous indignation washing over him, his expression darkening. A long, heavy silence descended before he finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous, laden with exhaustion and something perilously close to suppressed rage.
"...And tell me," he ground out, each word deliberate and heavy, his gaze sweeping over his incensed juniors. "...which one of you…" a deliberate pause, "...can actually stand against him?"
The silence that followed wasn't just quiet; it was a suffocating void. The air itself seemed to congeal.
The Yu Ling Lord's furious flush faded. The Ling Yue Lord's aggrieved pout vanished. The Liuyun Mistress's sharp posture faltered. All three stared at the Sect Leader, momentarily robbed of speech.
The Sect Leader let the crushing weight of that unanswerable question hang in the air. His expression shifted from darkening storm clouds to something closer to exhausted annoyance. "If you can't thrash him," he snapped, the words sharp as shrapnel, teeth grinding audibly, "then spare me the ranting chorus!" He swept a glare over them all, including his suddenly circumspect junior sister. All howling about my stolen disciple! As if I possessed some hidden method! Especially her—thinking she could hoist my spear against him? Asinine! He shoved himself out of his seat. "Attend the dais! The welcoming ceremony commences!"
***
The echo of the vanished elder's declaration hung in the transformed air. The chamber dissolved, the oppressive stone walls melting away like mist under dawn. In their place appeared a narrow gravel path winding through serene, manicured gardens towards a simple wooden gate. Sunlight, soft and unfiltered, beckoned.
The exit.
Gu Qingxi paused, gathering her breath and her scattered thoughts. The phantom sword-hilt still tingled in her grip. The aftertaste of rage was sharp on her tongue. Xu Baozhu… I hope that idiot found her own impossible answer. She squared her shoulders and stepped onto the path.
Pushing the gate open, she emerged into the brilliant mid-morning light, blinking against the sudden radiance.
A familiar, beaming face instantly swam into focus, erupting into a grin that seemed to outshine the sun. "SHIMEI!" Lu Tianyu practically bounced forward. "I knew it! Knew you'd blaze through! First one out!" He gestured dramatically behind him. "Our Shifu! Lord of Zi Lin Peak!"
Gu Qingxi's gaze followed his gesture, settling on the figure standing a pace behind.
He stood tall and straight as a pine on a windless ridge. Simple white robes, pristine and elegant, flowed around him, anchored only by a belt of night-black silk. Long ink-black hair cascaded down his back, catching the light like satin. His face… it was sculpted perfection, each angle harmonious. But it was the eyes that arrested her – deep pools of dark jade, radiating a tranquil intelligence. A warm, genuine smile touched his lips as he watched her, a smile that seemed to absorb and soften the very intensity of the sunlight. It was the kind of face that etched itself into memory instantly.
Yet… A flicker of incongruity caught Gu Qingxi's sharp gaze. Those strikingly handsome eyes… beneath them rested faint smudges of purple… Shadowed circles? On a cultivator? The strangeness of it momentarily overshadowed his presence. Do Peak Lords… get insomnia? Or perhaps… concoctions brewed too late into the night?
He stepped forward, his movement silent and deliberate. Then his voice, as clear and calming as a mountain stream in spring, cut through her momentary distraction. It wasn't loud. It resonated in the quiet space he seemed to create around them.
"Gu Qingxi," he spoke her name with a resonance that felt strangely intimate. "Will you accept this Master? Should you consent… Know this: I will teach you without reservation. Shield you without hesitation. Uphold you against any storm. With all that I am and all that I hold."