Chapter 205: This Is My Disciple, Then?

The silver moon hung in the sky.

Xie Jinhuan’s form was swept by a gentle breeze, crossing a thousand mountains and wilds, with Meiqiu flying beside him; around them were black peaks and a lone moon, while ahead stood a snow-haired beauty, ethereal and otherworldly—a scene of effortless joy.

If only this snow-haired immortal could behave a little more normally…

“Wow! This tree’s grown so big!”

True Person Qixia floated through the air, her red umbrella hanging at her waist; whether influenced by the demonic priest’s three afflictions—Indulgence, Heart-Devouring, and Demonization—or simply because she was naturally lively and adorable, she drifted wildly across the wilderness, gazing at boulders, then at ancient pines, enthusiastically recounting legends to him:

“When I was fourteen, I was ordered to patrol these mountains, went alone to gather herbs, and ran into a wild boar. My senior disciples weren’t around—I had only a magic sword. I struggled hard to cut the meat, but when I roasted it, it smelled delicious…”

“Gūjī?”

Meiqiu was stunned into silence.

Xie Jinhuan listened with growing dread; this snow-haired immortal seemed harmless enough, but carried an unmistakable aura of “kill anyone on sight”—he truly feared this madwoman might snap and vaporize him with a single finger.

Though the snow-haired Daoist was plump and radiant, her tea-green robe perfectly fitted, the sash and skirt accentuating her striking curves, and her snowy hair adding an extra touch of celestial grace.

But Xie Jinhuan’s heart was now as still as still water; he wanted to call on Ghost Bride for help, but A Piao only replied:

“When a sister speaks to someone, she must first induce hallucinations. Her cultivation is too high—she’s suppressing her spirit to avoid being influenced by demonic tendencies. Even I can’t make her see me as an illusion. Just soothe her, don’t let her go mad. When she remembers me and lowers her guard, I’ll persuade her to return.”

Xie Jinhuan understood how A Piao manifested; now he could only soothe:

“Senior, your body is unstable—why not hurry and return quickly?”

“No need. I have my own sense of restraint.”

True Person Qixia surveyed Zihui Mountain, where she had lived for so long, then asked:

“How many Supergrades are there now? Who is the Sect Master? Has anyone reached the Soul-Union realm?”

The Daoist seven realms are: Qi Control, Divine Radiance, Spirit Stillness, Heaven’s Mechanism, Soul-Union, Chaos Origin, and Immortal Trial.

Soul-Union is the fifth Daoist realm; according to Xie Jinhuan’s estimate, Lu Wu should have reached it, as for Nangong Xianzi…

“Hmm… the current Sect Master of Zihui Mountain is your esteemed disciple, Nangong Ye. He was adopted as a disciple by the senior brother acting on your behalf. Now he is the strongest First-Grade in the Great Qian, upright and noble, with immense prestige across the Jianghu…”

“Strongest… First-Grade?!”

The snow-haired Daoist slowed her flight to his side, her oval face filled with a bewildered “How novel!” expression:

“Has the world sunk so low that even a First-Grade can become Sect Master of Zihui Mountain? Then what are Supergrades for?”

The Dan Ding Sect’s ancestral temple was Taiyin Palace, later splitting into Zihui Mountain and Xuanhu Guan; every generation’s Sect Master came from these three, and the Master had always been a Supergrade. During the Witch Cult Uprising, pressure was immense, resources were poured without restraint, even producing two officially sanctioned “True Persons”: Ziyang and Qixia.

A First-Grade Sect Master—let alone during the Witch Cult Uprising, even now—is comparable to Bao Xiaolin’s status in the Jianghu. For him to lead Zihui Mountain is truly bizarre.

Xie Jinhuan explained: “Nangong’s cultivation is low because she’s young and the times are peaceful—few opportunities. But her reputation? Almost everyone inside and outside the pass knows her name.”

True Person Qixia found it hard to believe a First-Grade Daoist could be so renowned across the land; she pondered slightly:

“Is she exceptionally beautiful?”

Xie Jinhuan thought it sounded odd for a disciple to be famous for beauty, but he couldn’t lie and call her ugly; he replied:

“Nangong is a righteous hero, her character flawless. But among Jianghu gossips, she’s called ‘The Most Beautiful of All Daoists.’”

True Person Qixia’s lifelong motto was “I must become an immortal maiden,” and her Dao heart was ironclad; discovering her unknown disciple, a mere beginner, had become famous across the land for her beauty, she felt genuine curiosity:

“Is she still at Zihui Mountain?”

“Nangong seemed to have returned recently, but I’m not sure where she is now…”

True Person Qixia said no more, raised her hand, and cast the Ten-Thousand-Li Divine Step spell.

Shhh~

Before Xie Jinhuan could finish speaking, he saw the rivers and mountains below shift, the clouds overhead racing backward—in the blink of an eye, they arrived above Zihui Mountain.

Buildings dotted the mountain like stars, with scattered structures on surrounding peaks; from above, it resembled a Bagua diagram.

“Gūjī?!”

Meiqiu’s big eyes widened at this divine technique.

Xie Jinhuan had been about to praise it, but his peripheral vision caught an ancient cassia tree beside the main peak’s cliff.

Beneath the cassia stood a chess table, where two women stood facing the wind, their postures ethereal and celestial; though their faces were unseen, their full, graceful curves clearly revealed their identities—Bing Tuo Tuo and Hua Shijie…

True Person Qixia gazed at her old courtyard, seeing these two breathtaking beauties, her eyes brightening:

“Both of these are my disciples, right? The one with the butterfly hairpin must be the Sect Master—look at that pure Yang energy, her aura, her face—they’re carved from the same mold as me! The ice-cold one beside her—I bet she’s the Discipline Hall Elder. Looks terrifying…”

“Er…”

Xie Jinhuan was utterly bewildered, about to speak, when he saw the snow-haired immortal had already dashed down…

—

Zihui Mountain stretched over seven hundred li; its main sect compound lay far from Zhenyao Ling.

Though great commotion stirred deep in the mountains, the red umbrella concealed heavenly signs; the outside world sensed nothing unusual, and the sect remained unchanged.

Beside the back cliff, the century-old cassia swayed gently in the autumn wind.

Nangong Ye, dressed in a black dress, sword in hand, stood beside the chess table, gazing at endless peaks, her eyes slightly puzzled.

Bu Yuehua, in a sky-blue long dress, stood beside her, long sword on her back, a green veil covering her face, revealing only peach-blossom eyes, her black hair coiled and pinned with a purple-blue butterfly hairpin; altogether, she radiated the aura of a righteous immortal, and asked in confusion:

“Did Xie Jinhuan go into the mountains?”

“I’m not sure. Are you certain he came here?”

“He probably did…”

…

At dusk, Bu Yuehua went to the riverboat to find Xie Jinhuan, intending to discuss tomorrow’s tournament, but saw him heading alone upstream along Huaijiang.

Curious, she followed behind; the river was too vast, easy to spot, so she trailed eight li away, using Meiqiu in the sky to track his direction.

She never expected this brat, out for a nighttime stroll, would cover a hundred li without stopping—cutting through mountains, leaping rivers, racing in a nearly straight line toward Zihui Mountain in northern Danzhou!

Seeing Xie Jinhuan risk his life racing toward Zihui Mountain, Bu Yuehua realized something dire had happened. She’d endured a marathon of battles that day, her dantian drained, and though she’d watched the tournament afterward, she hadn’t fully replenished her Qi. If she rushed there now, she’d be unprepared for strong foes—so she turned back swiftly and fetched Nangong Ye from Zihui Mountain’s base.

Nangong Ye, hearing the news, assumed the sect had been slaughtered by demonic Daoists, and panicked, dragging the demon girl back at full speed.

But now, back at the main peak, she found the sect unchanged, no signs of disturbance; outside, Dan Yang City remained peaceful.

This brat must’ve run into the mountains…

What on earth was he rushing for?

Nangong Ye, full of confusion, was about to enter the deep mountains with the demon girl, when suddenly a sound came from behind:

Squeak~

The door had been blown open by the wind.

Both sensed something wrong and turned simultaneously, gazing at the main house several zhang away.

The door stood wide open, the room lit by lantern light, illuminating a scroll hanging in the central hall.

The scroll depicted a radiant woman in a tea-green Daoist robe, back to a magic sword, a red umbrella hanging at her waist, her lively eyes alive as if watching the endless mountains beyond the door.

Below the scroll, a radiant woman now inexplicably stood—wearing the same tea-green robe, back to Zhenglun Sword, red umbrella at her waist, lively eyes fixed on the doorway…

Identical!

?!

Bu Yuehua’s eyes widened further, wondering if she’d been ensnared by illusion; she cautiously scanned left and right.

Nangong Ye also suspected trickery, but this looked unmistakably like an ancestral spirit manifesting—she’d never experienced anything like it, frozen in place, unsure how to react.

True Person Qixia was a true ancestor, but the Witch Cult Uprising had propelled her to power too swiftly, and she’d later slept in the Demon-Subduing Coffin; one blink and she’d awoken just now—her actual time walking the world was less than these two beauties outside. She still felt awkward in her elder role.

Though she’d never eaten pork, she’d seen pigs run…

True Person Qixia imagined how Ziyang True Person must have looked upon her, one hand behind her back, the other extended forward, gazing at Bu Yuehua with the serene dignity of an elder, radiating benevolence:

“You must be Nangong Ye. Truly, the new waves push the old ones forward—the world’s newcomers outpace the old. I once thought no one would shoulder Dan Ding Sect’s burden after a hundred years. Seeing you now, my heart is finally at ease…”

???

Bu Yuehua straightened slightly, wondering—if she bore Dan Ding Sect’s burden, what of the Demon Poison Sect? Nangong Ye had, every year since childhood, lit incense and wiped the table for her master; seeing this stranger mistake the demon girl for her, her gaze darkened, and she coldly said:

“What demon are you, pretending to be a spirit?!”

“Holy shit? No no—”

The moment the words left her lips, a piercing shriek tore through the heavens!

Nangong Ye’s ascending aura shattered instantly; she shrank back, neck pulled in, eyes snapping upward.

Bu Yuehua looked up at the same moment.

There, hovering high above, was a white-robed young lord, flailing wildly as he tried to descend—but couldn’t, while Meiqiu clung to his robe, tugging him down…

“Gūjī gūjī…”

A strange silence settled beside the cliff…

Shhh shhh shhh…

The autumn wind swept over the century-old cassia, rustling leaves mingling with the scent of blossoms.

True Person Qixia maintained her dignified elder posture, but her opening words had been met with an insult; her expression hardened slightly.

Yet, remembering she was dealing with her own disciple, she didn’t anger—Discipline Hall Elder, after all; if she didn’t have a fiery temper, how could she manage the entire sect?

The Sect Master is steadier—look at this serene, composed immortal aura, unshaken by praise or blame; the more she looked, the more pleasing she became…

…

Bu Yuehua wasn’t unshaken by praise or blame—she simply didn’t understand what was happening.

Nangong Ye felt the same; she’d intended to rebuke the demon, but seeing Huang Mao standing there, she feared exposure and fell silent, only gazing upward.

Xie Jinhuan feared Bing Tuo Tuo’s temper might ignite this madwoman—so he called out from afar:

“This is True Person Qixia—don’t offend her. Senior, they’re not your disciples—they’re my friends, from Qingming Sword Manor…”

“….”

Nangong Ye trembled violently, staring again at the snow-haired Daoist—she nearly collapsed to her knees on the spot.

But if I kneel like this, I’ll give everything away…

Bu Yuehua still found it hard to believe that the legendary founder of the Great Qian Daoist sect—whom she had heard of since childhood—was standing right before her, alive and real; yet compared to the portrait, it couldn’t be fake, so she quickly bowed and saluted:

“Disciple pays homage to the True Person.”

True Person Qixia noticed these two breathtakingly beautiful, otherworldly women were not her disciples, and felt deeply disappointed; she turned to look at her courtyard:

“Why are you two standing here at the third watch?”

Xie Jinhuan also felt suspicious:

“Yeah, how come you’re here?”

Gongye Ye, still stunned into silence, was answered by Bu Yuehua:

“Just now at Sanjiangkou, I intended to discuss the tournament with Xie Jinhuan, but found him heading upstream. I thought he’d come to slay demons and exorcise evils, so I followed… followed her to check…”

Gongye Ye was utterly bewildered: her master stood before her, Xie Jinhuan was above, and if she denied it, she’d be betraying her master and violating the Dao; if she admitted it, she’d corrupt moral order—either way, she was doomed.

Why did this damn brat suddenly appear with her master, who had been in seclusion for years with no word?

What do I do, what do I do…

True Person Qixia was no fool; seeing the icy maiden’s terrified helplessness, she sensed something was off. After a brief pause, she lightly gestured with her hand:

Ssshh—

Xie Jinhuan, who had been watching, vanished instantly from above, leaving only a rapidly receding sound:

“Gukiiii~”

Gongye Ye, seeing Xie Jinhuan gone, dared not delay a moment; she immediately knelt and bowed:

“D-Disciple Gongye Ye, pays homage to Master.”

True Person Qixia sensed her disciple had serious issues, stepped forward slowly to help her up, intending to ask.

But to her surprise, she found her disciple stood a head taller, pale-skinned, beautiful, with full bust and rounded hips, yet radiating an icy, transcendent aura—exactly the immortal maiden she had dreamed of…

So this is what they mean by “like master, like disciple”…

True Person Qixia was quite pleased with her disciple’s appearance and bearing, yet felt puzzled:

“You didn’t tell Xie Jinhuan your identity?”

Gongye Ye was extremely nervous: “Yes… I secretly guarded him, afraid that if he knew he had protection, he’d grow careless, so I…”

“Guarded him?”

True Person Qixia scanned her up and down, utterly baffled:

“You, a first-rank Daoist sect disciple, guard a first-rank martial cultivator?”

Bu Yuehua couldn’t hold back at this, but fearing Gongye Ye would call her master down on her, she still spoke gently:

“Without Gongye sister’s protection these past days, Xie Jinhuan couldn’t have reached first-rank so quickly. I’ve been watching over him with her.”

Gongye Ye, cornered on both sides, could only gratefully accept the demoness’s help:

“That’s right. This brat still needs time to grow. Now isn’t the right moment to reveal my identity. That’s why I offended Master just now…”

True Person Qixia turned to Bu Yuehua:

“And who is this lady?”

Bu Yuehua bowed: “Disciple Bu Yuehua, Master of Queyue Mountain Villa. I’ve sworn sisterhood with Gongye sister; she’s always lived at my home when traveling the southern frontier…”

?

Gongye Ye wanted to chase away this woman who was fabricating ties, but the demoness had already revealed her identity to Xie Jinhuan—if she denied it now, she’d explode on the spot. So she gritted her teeth and nodded.

Queyue Mountain Villa rose to prominence after the Witch Cult was exiled to the southern frontier—barely a hundred years old. True Person Qixia had never heard of it. She was genuinely confused by the current situation. Asking too many questions would damage her immortal image. After brief thought, she decided she should first consult her sect’s historical records!

Oh, I could also consult Sister A Piao…

With this thought, True Person Qixia smiled gently:

“Wait here a moment. I’ve just returned from my journey and won’t stay long—I must attend to some matters first. I’ll return shortly.”

Ssshh~

Before her words ended, her figure vanished.

Gongye Ye was startled by her white-haired little master’s cultivation; once certain the woman was gone, she still tried to find Xie Jinhuan’s trail.

But her ancestor told her to wait—how could she dare wander off? She could only wait in the courtyard.

Bu Yuehua wasn’t sure whether the Dan Ding Sect’s elder was nearby, so she dared not ask, only kept her hands folded at her waist, carefully searching…

Meanwhile, between towering mountains.

Xie Jinhuan, shouldering Meiqiu, surveyed the desolate, uninhabited peaks around him, his eyes filled with confusion:

“Where the hell did she dump me?”

“Gukii!”

Meiqiu was also puzzled. She spread her wings, soared into the sky to scout, then flew toward Zihui Mountain.

Xie Jinhuan feared the white-haired immortal had gone mad. Seeing this, he dashed after her, shouting along the way:

“Ghost daughter-in-law? Hey?”

No response came from anywhere.

?

Xie Jinhuan froze, looked around, then realized his Zhenglun Sword, hanging at his waist, had been stolen by the white-haired immortal and turned into some kind of decoration…

…

(End of Chapter)