Chapter 12

Ming Yan shivered, stealthily hiding the broken Xiaobai into her space while Chu Xuanqing wasn’t looking.  

How could this heartless man be so cruel?  

After all, Xiaobai was his Lifebound Spirit Sword, having accompanied him for years. Even if it hadn’t accomplished great feats, it had certainly endured hardships. Yet he snapped it without hesitation.  

Moreover, Ming Yan was especially curious—did he feel nothing at all after breaking his Lifebound Spirit Sword?  

It was said that a Lifebound Spirit Sword was of utmost importance to a swordsman. Yet to Chu Xuanqing, Xiaobai seemed no different from a mere Tool Sword. Or perhaps, his cultivation method differed from others, allowing him to disregard the bond with his Lifebound Spirit Sword.  

It must be the latter.  

Ming Yan concluded.  

Otherwise, she couldn’t fathom why Chu Xuanqing neither killed her nor hesitated to expend a century’s worth of cultivation to make the Spirit Sword acknowledge her as its master.  

Chu Xuanqing was no fool.  

Once she realized this, the faint trace of goodwill that had risen in her heart vanished without a trace.  

Chu Xuanqing was still the villain through and through—cold-blooded, ruthless, and merciless, not even sparing a thought for his own Lifebound Spirit Sword. The only reason Ming Yan, his Dao Companion, was still alive was likely because she hadn’t crossed his bottom line yet. The moment she inadvertently did, her fate would be the same as Xiaobai’s:  

*Snap—* shattered in two.  

Fortunately, that was exactly the day Ming Yan was waiting for.  

She even wished it would come sooner.  

***  

Midnight, when all was silent.  

The Celestial Pivot Peak, where Ming Yan resided, was brightly lit.  

The disappearance of the Little Martial Aunt was a top-priority matter for the peak. From the highest-ranking disciples to the Outer Sect Disciples, everyone had mobilized to search for her. They had practically turned the entire Celestial Pivot Peak and the Profound Sky Sect upside down, yet strangely, there was no sign of Ming Yan.  

Fortunately, Chu Xuanqing was there.  

When the crowd spotted his familiar figure in the sky, holding the Little Martial Aunt in his arms, they collectively sighed in relief.  

*Thank goodness, the Little Martial Aunt has been found.*  

Otherwise, they truly wouldn’t know how to face an enraged Chu Xuanqing.  

This time, his expression was even darker than during the Soul Suppression Island incident.  

Newer disciples might not be aware, but the older ones still carried the lingering fear from that event.  

Twenty years ago, when Soul Suppression Island provoked the Little Martial Uncle, he had cleaved the entire island in half with a single sword strike. If anything had happened to the Little Martial Aunt… the consequences were unimaginable.  

Bai Yang, an inner disciple, was the first to step forward, asking worriedly, “Peak Lord, is the Little Martial Aunt unharmed?”  

Chu Xuanqing landed on his flying sword, his tone as indifferent as ever. “She’s fine. Have the medicine hall prepare Golden Crimson Soup.”  

Bai Yang froze. “Golden Crimson Soup?”  

Golden Crimson Soup was a supreme antidote.  

Had the Little Martial Aunt been poisoned?  

Bai Yang was furious, the Chu Heaven Sword on his back humming with suppressed rage. “Who dares lay a hand on the Little Martial Aunt?”  

Chu Xuanqing replied impassively, “He escaped.”  

“What?” Bai Yang was stunned. “Even the Peak Lord couldn’t catch him?”  

Chu Xuanqing lowered his gaze to Ming Yan in his arms.  

Whether it was due to lingering poison or shock, she was now fast asleep.  

Devoid of her usual liveliness, the sleeping Ming Yan looked exceptionally docile, her dark lashes casting faint shadows beneath her eyes.  

“He won’t get far.”  

Chu Xuanqing’s eyes darkened.  

Bai Yang volunteered, “Peak Lord, leave this matter to me.”  

“No need.”  

Without further explanation, Chu Xuanqing vanished in an instant, still holding Ming Yan.

In the next instant, he appeared before Echo Pavilion.

Echo Pavilion was situated atop Celestial Pivot Peak, where Chu Xuanqing resided.  

Chu Xuanqing disliked noise, and Echo Pavilion was originally the only structure on the peak, named for the lingering echoes of morning bells and evening drums that once resonated through the mountaintop. However, after Ming Yan moved in, numerous additional rooms were built, and the bells and drums—deemed too noisy by Ming Yan—were relocated to Open Yang Peak, where the sect leader resided. Thus, Echo Pavilion retained only its name in vain.  

Chu Xuanqing pushed open the wooden door. Inside, the stove burned brightly, filling the room with warmth.  

He placed the person in his arms onto the soft couch.  

Ming Yan was still asleep, but she had always been one to indulge in comfort. The moment her back touched the soft cushions, she instinctively rolled over, burrowing snugly into the blankets like a small animal finally returning home.  

Chu Xuanqing’s lips curved slightly.  

His mood improved considerably at Ming Yan’s unconscious gesture.  

But soon, he realized something, and his expression darkened.  

Having cultivated to Chu Xuanqing’s level, both his physical body and divine soul had reached a strength far beyond ordinary people.  

For instance, moments ago, while Ming Yan was injured and the thief was fleeing, an average cultivator would have been forced to choose between the two—either save Ming Yan or let the thief escape.  

But Chu Xuanqing was different.  

At the Tribulation Transcendence Stage, he could choose both.  

While lifting Ming Yan, he simultaneously released his Divine Soul Clone.  

His clone could wield half of his power, and unless the opponent was also at the Tribulation Transcendence Stage, none could stand against it.  

Yet the black-clad figure was astonishingly fast, and his techniques were bizarre.  

Just moments ago, when the clone had defeated the black-clad man and was about to capture him for interrogation—  

The man’s body abruptly shrank and vanished into thin air.  

Chu Xuanqing stared at the lone black puppet doll left behind, his gaze growing increasingly somber.  

If he wasn’t mistaken—  

This was the Demon Clan’s Puppetry Art.  

The puppet was forged from the caster’s heartblood and steeped in Soul-Molding Grass for forty-nine days. Afterward, the puppet became indistinguishable from the caster, capable of deceiving even the keenest eyes.  

But few among the Demon Clan could wield such dark arts, and Soul-Molding Grass was exceedingly rare.  

In other words, the black-clad man was not only a member of the Demon Clan but also held a high status within it.  

……  

For both demons and monsters to cause trouble simultaneously in the Cultivation world—and within the territory of the Profound Sky Sect, no less—was no small matter.  

The moment Chu Xuanqing relayed the news to Sect Leader Fu Shui Daojun, the latter immediately summoned all seven Peak Lords of the Profound Sky Sect using the Sect Leader Token to discuss countermeasures.  

When Ming Yan awoke the next day, she found Chu Xuanqing absent.  

Zisu explained it to her thus.  

Ming Yan nodded in understanding. “I know.”  

This event had also occurred in the original plot. After all, if demons and monsters didn’t appear, how could the female lead hunt demons or seek enlightenment?  

It was all the grand design of the Plot Deity.  

“But Young Madam, you needn’t worry about such matters,” Zisu said, handing her a bowl of freshly brewed Golden Crimson Soup from the medicine hall. “This is Golden Crimson Soup—drink it while it’s hot.”  

Ming Yan wrinkled her nose. “It smells awful.”  

Zisu replied, “It’s a sacred antidote, so naturally, it’s a bit pungent. But its effects are excellent.”  

Ming Yan had no choice but to pinch her nose and gulp it down.

Seeing the Golden Crimson Soup nearly finished and Ming Yan seemingly unharmed, Zisu couldn’t help her curiosity: “Little Madam, was that demon from last night truly as terrifying as the legends say?”

“Not exactly terrifying,” Ming Yan set down the porcelain bowl, her cat-like eyes dimming slightly.

In the Cultivation world, children like Zisu were raised hearing tales of how vile demons were.

By the time they grew up, unless they were particularly independent thinkers, most harbored extreme hatred toward demons—with the female lead Mu Qingqing being the most extreme of all.

But Ming Yan knew that the evils demons committed could also be done by cultivators.

And the good deeds cultivators performed could likewise be done by demons.

There was no inherent difference between humans, demons, and monsters—only their allegiances set them apart.

Zisu, unaware of this reasoning, took Ming Yan’s words at face value: “Then Little Madam must be incredibly lucky to have encountered only a minor demon.”

Ming Yan didn’t explain further: “Perhaps.”

Noticing Ming Yan’s subdued mood, Zisu asked, “Little Madam, what’s wrong? Are you still unwell?”

Ming Yan nodded slightly: “A little.”

Zisu suggested, “In that case, I’ll inform Jade Balance Peak to excuse you from this year’s Spirit Sword Assembly.”

Ming Yan suddenly perked up: “Spirit Sword Assembly?”

“Yes, the annual Spirit Sword Assembly held every season. All the talented Inner Sect Disciples will participate, and those fortunate enough to gain recognition may become personal disciples of the Peak Lords or elders.” Zisu couldn’t hide the envy in her voice.

As an Outer Sect Disciple, she wasn’t even qualified to join the Inner Sect, let alone become a personal disciple.

But Ming Yan’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Having read the novel five times, she knew the plot inside out.

Though her transmigration had altered minor details, these changes hadn’t triggered any major butterfly effects. The significant events in the story would still unfold as destined.

Take the demon’s appearance, for instance.

In the original novel, it had also caused an uproar, though Ming Yan wasn’t the one injured.

Later, due to simultaneous demon sightings, Fu Shui Daojun, the sect master of Profound Sky Sect, proposed transforming the sect’s internal disciple selection competition into a grand joint examination for all three sects and nine schools of the Cultivation world.

On the surface, this was to strengthen ties between sects, but the true purpose was to gather representatives from all factions to discuss reinforcing the demonic seals.

In this examination, the female lead Mu Qingqing performed exceptionally well. As the descendant of a renowned demon-hunting family, she was immediately accepted as the sect master’s personal disciple.

When the sect master bestowed upon her the personal disciple insignia, Mu Qingqing’s cultivation surged directly from Golden Core to Nascent Soul Stage.

Already formidable, her breakthrough into the Nascent Soul Stage made her even more dangerous.

Wielding the divine artifact Demon-Slaying Whip, the original host had accidentally crossed paths with Mu Qingqing during this period and met her end beneath that whip.

Instantly, Ming Yan formed a plan: “No, I won’t take leave.”

Zisu was astonished: “But Little Madam, why would you attend the Spirit Sword Assembly?”

She found it strange—wasn’t Little Madam the one who hated going to Jade Balance Peak for studies the most?

Ming Yan lifted her chin proudly: “I want to find a master too, become a personal disciple.”

Zisu gasped: “This…”

She didn’t have the heart to tell Ming Yan that Junior Uncle Chu was the sect master’s closed-door disciple, holding an extremely high seniority within the sect. As his Dao Companion, Ming Yan’s status had risen accordingly. If she sought to become a disciple and was accepted, wouldn’t that make her suddenly a generation above Junior Uncle?

Would someone as lofty as Junior Uncle ever agree to that?

But Ming Yan had already made up her mind—

Wasn’t this how transmigration novels always went? The transmigrated heroine seizing the original female lead’s opportunities, magical artifacts, and such.

So wanting to snatch a master shouldn’t be too outrageous, right?

Besides, she was familiar with Fu Shui Daojun.

She knew better than Mu Qingqing how to win Fu Shui Daojun’s favor.

“Zisu, fetch me the ‘Spirit Rabbit Gazing at the Moon’ dress,” she instructed.

“The ‘Spirit Rabbit Gazing at the Moon’? The one that makes the wearer look as adorable as a little bunny, complete with fluffy ears and a tail?” Zisu exclaimed excitedly.

“Yes, that one,” Ming Yan confirmed.

Zisu was overjoyed: “Wonderful, wonderful! I’ve heard so much about this dress. With how cute you are, Little Madam, it’ll suit you perfectly.”

She hurried to the adjacent wardrobe to retrieve the dress for Ming Yan.

Before long, Ming Yan had changed into the Spirit Rabbit Gazing at the Moon attire. True to its name, two fluffy, pink bunny ears now adorned her head.

Ming Yan was already naturally charming and adorable, but with the added bunny ears, every step she took made them sway endearingly, irresistibly cute.

Even Zisu, a fellow female disciple, was nearly overwhelmed by the cuteness—

Let alone Fu Shui Daojun, an unabashed lover of all things fluffy.

Thus attired, Ming Yan set off to seek out Fu Shui Daojun, carrying a basket of fruits as a gift for apprenticeship.

Coincidentally, the Peak Lords had just concluded their meeting.

From afar, seeing Ming Yan approach in such an adorable outfit, the Peak Lords’ faces, previously grim from discussions of demonic invasions, suddenly brightened. However, none imagined she was there for Sect Master Fu Shui Daojun, and they all cast envious glances at Chu Xuanqing:

“To have such a thoughtful and adorable Dao Companion, Junior Uncle is truly blessed.”

“Junior Uncle and Little Madam must be deeply in love, unable to bear even brief separations.”

“At this rate, we’ll be attending their child’s full moon celebration soon after their wedding feast. Junior Uncle, I have high hopes for you.”

…

Amidst the flattery, Ming Yan’s figure gradually came into clear view.

With two fluffy bunny ears atop her head and eyes shimmering like autumn waters, she resembled a delicate little spirit rabbit brought to life, utterly enchanting. Even Chu Xuanqing’s perpetually icy expression involuntarily softened, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile:

“Hmm.”

His Dao Companion was indeed a bit clingy.

Yet the next moment, Ming Yan stepped into Open Yang Peak, bypassing Chu Xuanqing without a glance, and headed straight for Fu Shui Daojun:

“Master, I am your long-lost disciple who’s been wandering out there all these years!”

“…”

Chu Xuanqing’s smile froze on his lips.