Chapter 2: Angry

Nan Fuguang couldn’t tell where the woman came from.

In the path of cultivation, practitioners progress from the initial Qi Cyclone and Sea of Consciousness to the Qi Refining stage, followed by Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, Out-of-Body, Immortal Transformation, and finally the Tribulation stage to achieve ultimate mastery.

However, since the world lost the blessing of the Shatuo Rift Sky Tree, civilization has stagnated for thousands of years, and no one has reached the pinnacle of cultivation.

Now, the entire continent is divided by the Unclean Sea, separating the eastern and western shores. There are thousands of cultivation sects, with eight of the top ten sects located on the eastern shore, including the Yun Tian Sect.

In the previous Sect Selection Competition, Yun Tian Sect ranked third in overall strength due to having the Yun Shang Immortal and the unique Guixing Pavilion, which records the history of the cultivation world.

Across both shores, most inner disciples are still wandering in the Qi Refining stage. Only a few have broken through to Foundation Establishment, earning them the titles of senior brothers or sisters.

Yan Ji’an, having reached the Immortal Transformation stage, has stood unparalleled for centuries.

Nan Fuguang, in the late Foundation Establishment stage, is considered exceptional among her peers.

In the cultivation world, one’s level of power can be discerned either by self-declaration or by more advanced cultivators detecting it.

Thus, Nan Fuguang can generally gauge an ordinary cultivator’s strength. But at this moment, she couldn’t determine whether the woman in Yan Ji’an’s arms was a celestial being… or just a mortal.

However, As a cold-blooded creature akin to a reptile, Yan Ji’an is known for his unyielding heart, incapable of harboring romantic feelings.

Yet, here he was, holding a woman in his arms in front of everyone’s eyes?

This was anything but ordinary.

Standing at the front of the disciples’ ranks, Nan Fuguang flicked her right hand and summoned the Yaoguang Sword before anyone could react!

“Which shameless demon dares impersonate the Immortal?” She barely finished the first word when five steps away, Yan Ji’an, with his otherworldly, handsome face, cast a calm glance her way.

In an instant, there was a muffled “boom,” followed by a crisp shattering sound!

A buzzing filled her ears as a wave of numbness, like thousands of ice ants gnawing, spread from her fingertips to her shoulder.

“Fuguang!”

“Senior Sister Riri!”

Amidst the exclamations, Nan Fuguang staggered two steps back, only to be caught by Tao Tao behind her.

At her feet, the Yaoguang Sword, once condensed from true energy was shattered like fragments of ice. Only the ancient iron hilt, engraved with the words “Yaoguang,” remained intact, lying pitifully in the dust.

“… …”

Her fingers trembled, hanging stiffly by her side in a twisted posture.

Her mind went blank for a moment, and her throat tightened as if an invisible hand was choking her.

She couldn’t utter a single word.

Slowly, Nan Fuguang shifted her gaze from the shattered remnants of the Yaoguang Sword back to the silent onlookers.

Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between her, Yan Ji’an, and the unconscious woman in his arms, dozens of times over.

Yan Ji’an remained indifferent, and the woman in his arms was still unconscious. Naturally, this made Nan Fuguang the first to break under the pressure.

Recovering her voice, she said, “It’s fine. Just a mid-grade magical weapon, if it’s broken, it’s broken.”

Her tone was steady.

But no one dared to respond.

Even Sect Leader Xie Cong looked as though he wanted to speak but had suddenly turned mute.

The Yaoguang Sword had been given to Nan Fuguang by Yan Ji’an when she first became his sole disciple.

What did he say back then?

“This sword’s name is similar to yours, take it and use it.”

Over the years, from the time when Nan Fuguang was too small to carry the sword properly, dragging it along the ground, to now, when she could fly with it the sword had always been with her.

The disciples often speculated about how the illustrious Yaoguang Sword would eventually retire.

Would it be while slaying demons?

Or saving the world?

Or perhaps suppressing evil at the cost of self-sacrifice?

No one ever imagined it would shatter simply because Yan Ji’an glanced at it, while holding another woman.

Who knows what Nan Fuguang thought.

But standing next to the stone-faced Senior Sister, Tao Tao felt like she was about to shatter herself.

The silence was terrifying, most people just wanted to run away.

At this critical moment, Sect Leader Xie Cong finally regained his voice. Clearing his throat, he broke the silence.

“Immortal, may I ask, who is this young lady?”

Yan Ji’an did not answer.

In fact, from the moment he arrived, Yun Shang Immortal had only tilted his head slightly, focusing his calm gaze on Nan Fuguang’s face.

His eyes swept past the stray strands of her hair, disturbed when she drew her sword earlier. Under the sunlight, those strands seemed to glow faintly.

“I met her by chance at the foot of the mountain,” Yan Ji’an said flatly. “In my haste to return, I forgot to notify anyone.”

Xie Cong, tired of this evasive attitude, said nothing more.

Without waiting for a response, Yan Ji’an still holding the woman rose on his sword and left for Chi Xue Peak.

…

Chi Xue Peak, one of Yun Tian Sect’s three main peaks, is covered in snow year-round and shrouded in ethereal mist. At its summit stands the Tao Ting Pavilion, where Yun Shang Immortal resides and cultivates.

Only a select few can approach the pavilion due to the warding formation personally set by Yan Ji’an.

The peak is so towering that it can only be reached by sword flight, explaining why Nan Fuguang, one of the few permitted to fly around, frequently took advantage of the loophole.

When Yan Ji’an landed at the grand gate, the bronze guardian beast stirred, sensing his return. Its gemstone eyes opened as it muttered, “Back… back…”

The heavy palace doors groaned open, revealing an empty, cold hall. Without hesitation, Yan Ji’an carried the woman to a side chamber.

After ensuring her breathing was steady, he straightened up to leave, only to be interrupted by Sect Leader Xie Cong’s sarcastic inquiry.

“Immortal, where’s your precious disciple?”

Yan Ji’an, who had been waiting in the main hall, finally saw his belated disciple enter.

As Nan Fuguang greeted him with her usual calmness, sitting down beside him, Yan Ji’an asked quietly:

“Angry?”

Nan Fuguang smiled faintly.

“Of course not.”