Chapter 2:

After Xue Ying left, the disciples gathered in the Liangyi Hall gradually dispersed, leaving only Liu Junzhuo standing alone in place. The young man’s awkward smile carried a hint of loneliness and unease.

The green-robed disciple from earlier approached Liu Junzhuo and comforted him, “Junior Sister Xue Ying has always been proud and aloof. Don’t take it to heart, Junior Brother Liu. I’ll talk to her later.”

Liu Junzhuo was undeniably handsome. The simple martial attire he wore did nothing to diminish his charm; instead, it accentuated his figure. At sixteen or seventeen, he had already grown into his features—slender waist, long legs, and an exceptionally fair complexion. His striking beauty, combined with his youthful exuberance, made him radiant and bold when he smiled.

“Since I’ve just joined the sect, it’s only natural that Senior Sister doesn’t think much of me. Perhaps after spending more time together, she might change her attitude.”

Seeing that Liu Junzhuo didn’t seem too bothered, the green-robed disciple relaxed and smiled warmly. “Since you’re new to the Tai Xuan Sect and unfamiliar with the paths, let me show you around.”

Liu Junzhuo nodded obediently and followed behind. From the Liangyi Hall, they passed through the Ziwei Path. Though the Tai Xuan Sect was renowned as a sacred ground for sword cultivators, it wasn’t much different from other sects—main halls, side halls, training platforms, and sword practice grounds. The only notable distinction was that the main hall hadn’t been renovated in three hundred years.

The reason? Simple poverty.

As Liu Junzhuo descended the steps, his gaze drifted over the mist and settled ahead. The Ziwei Path, paved with unyielding Hanming Stone, was supposed to be indestructible. Yet now, it bore a sword mark several palms wide.

A few young disciples bowed to the green-robed disciple before scurrying off, chattering excitedly among themselves.

“Did you see the sword mark on the Ziwei Path? Senior Sister Xue Ying made that. The last person to leave a mark like that was Uncle Yuhengzi, the Sword Immortal!”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Like master, like disciple!”

“Of course! Senior Sister Xue Ying isn’t just skilled with the sword—she’s also stunning. She’s widely recognized as the most beautiful woman in the Tai Xuan Sect.”

Liu Junzhuo instinctively recalled the girl’s figure from the hall. Dressed in ethereal white robes, she had seemed like a celestial maiden descending on the wind. A veil obscured half her face, but it only enhanced her allure, lending her an air of mystery. Perhaps due to her cultivation method, her skin lacked warmth, making her appear almost like a jade statue at first glance.

When she had looked at Liu Junzhuo, her delicate voice held no warmth, only a tone of lofty indifference.

The more unattainable she seemed, the more it stirred a man’s desire to conquer.

The most beautiful woman in the sect…

Liu Junzhuo unconsciously licked his lips. “Um, is Senior Sister Xue Ying really that strong?”

The green-robed disciple turned to him with a smile. “Ah, I forgot—you can call me Wen’an. As for whether Xue Ying is strong…”

Wen’an was the head disciple of the Tai Xuan Sect, the legendary “mother hen” who managed all major and minor affairs. With refined features and a gentle, jade-like demeanor, he was courteous to all and never harmed opponents in sparring. His preference for green robes earned him the nickname “Gentleman in Green.”

“On the first day of every month, the Tai Xuan Sect holds a competition. If you’re free then, you should come watch.” Wen’an paused, his lips curling into a faint, enigmatic smile. “Mine and Xue Ying’s.”

Liu Junzhuo instinctively averted his gaze, a flicker of displeasure rising in his heart. Perhaps it was because he already held some admiration for Xue Ying, and Wen’an’s words felt like a boast.

“Just teasing.” Wen’an laughed, instantly lightening the mood. “Xue Ying’s swordsmanship is exceptional. Most disciples in the sect are no match for her. Though I can spar with her, I often lose. Soon, she might not even bother challenging me anymore.”

“So, Junior Brother Liu, you’ll have to work hard.”

Liu Junzhuo’s ears burned red. “Senior Brother, I didn’t mean it like that…”

Wen’an chuckled. “No need to be modest. The Tai Xuan Sect respects strength above all. Though you’ve just joined, I believe you’ll rise quickly.”

After all, the last disciple born with an innate sword bone had made remarkable progress that everyone witnessed.

As they spoke, Wen’an led Liu Junzhuo to collect a set of sect robes—black and red, similar to those worn by other disciples. According to Wen’an, the darker colors made stains less noticeable.

Sword cultivators were always at the front lines, after all—first to take a hit.

As for Wen’an and Xue Ying, they were top disciples with privileges, much like star students who could get away with minor transgressions.

Along with the robes, Liu Junzhuo received an iron sword and a jade token to identify his status—the standard three-piece set for new disciples.

Before parting, Wen’an encouraged him, “If you can last thirty moves against Xue Ying, you can pick any of the Twenty-Four Divine Swords from the Tai Chu Sect.”

Liu Junzhuo was puzzled. “The Tai Chu Sect?”

Why not their own sect’s treasures, but those of a neighboring sect?

A rare trace of sorrow flickered across Wen’an’s face. “Our benefactors. You’ll understand later.”

With everything settled, and considering Liu Junzhuo hadn’t yet begun cultivation and couldn’t traverse great distances in a single step, Wen’an decided to see things through. “Come, I’ll take you to Ningshen Peak.”

With a flick of his sleeve, a beam of green light shot forth—not sharp or fierce, but warm like a spring breeze. Liu Junzhuo focused and saw a three-foot green blade in Wen’an’s hand. The sword shimmered with verdant light, its hilt entwined with fresh green vines resembling tender spring buds. At the pommel, a tiny flower bud even peeked out.

Elegant but not effeminate—if anything, Liu Junzhuo thought it suited Wen’an perfectly.

Wen’an’s expression softened further as he stroked the blade and murmured, “Good Guyu, Junior Brother Liu is new and can’t use the Soaring Steps yet. Will you carry him?”

Wen’an’s tender demeanor reminded Liu Junzhuo of a rumor he’d heard:

Most disciples in the Tai Xuan Sect remained single because they treated their swords as wives—and refused to take concubines.

Liu Junzhuo shook off the thought, glancing at his own plain iron sword before recalling Xue Ying’s figure. His resolve strengthened.

No way. Senior Sister Xue Ying is much prettier.

As Liu Junzhuo zoned out, Wen’an’s Guyu transformed into a massive sword. Wen’an stepped onto it first, but just as Liu Junzhuo was about to follow, Wen’an suddenly said, “Wait, Junior Brother!”

Liu Junzhuo halted, bracing himself for some crucial advice on sword flight.

Then Wen’an said, “Let me cast a Dust-Clearing Spell on you first.”

Liu Junzhuo: “…Oh.”

Ningshen Peak lay to the west of the Tai Xuan Sect—a solitary mountain where Yuhengzi resided year-round. His sword intent had long since stripped the peak of vegetation, leaving it bald. Displeased with the barren sight, a beauty-conscious elder had set up an array, causing Ningshen Peak to be perpetually blanketed in snow.

A snow-capped peak sounded far better than a bald one.

Along the way, Wen’an briefed Liu Junzhuo on Yuhengzi and Xue Ying’s temperaments.

“Uncle Yuheng has been away for years and only recently returned. He rarely involves himself in sect affairs and seldom appears. Most of what I know about him comes from Xue Ying.”

Reclusive, lazy, a slacker—and a die-hard lolicon.

Wen’an didn’t fully grasp some of Xue Ying’s complaints, but it was clear Yuhengzi disliked moving, hated going out, and spoke sparingly. In Wen’an’s memory, Yuhengzi was either beating his disciple or on his way to do so.

A strained master-disciple relationship? Perfectly normal!

“Once you can defeat Xue Ying, you can challenge Uncle Yuheng.”

Liu Junzhuo shrank back. “Senior Brother, you jest.”

Wen’an waved dismissively. “No worries. Disrespecting elders is a Tai Xuan tradition. Xue Ying’s been challenging Uncle Yuheng since she was little.”

“Come to think of it, the previous Sword Immortal was Uncle Yuheng’s martial uncle.”

Wen’an spoke with pride, as if this were a point of honor.

After all, internal rivalries were called “inheritance.” Losing the Sword Immortal title to another sect? Now that would be shameful.

“As for your Senior Sister Xue Ying…” Wen’an said only one thing: “Don’t look at her true face.”

Liu Junzhuo was baffled. By all accounts—both rumors and his own observations—Xue Ying was undeniably beautiful. Even with half her face veiled, the visible half was enough to spark endless fantasies.

“Does Senior Sister Xue Ying have some… unspeakable secret?”

Wen’an hesitated, unsure whether to disclose the truth. After all, Liu Junzhuo was now Xue Ying’s junior—practically family.

“Your Senior Sister, she—”

“Senior Sister Xue Ying is dueling Uncle Yuheng on Ningshen Peak! Everyone, hurry and watch!”

Before the words faded, an earth-shaking boom erupted from Ningshen Peak. A sword light split the clouds, carving gashes in the sky and letting sunlight spill through.

Several Tai Xuan disciples zipped past Liu Junzhuo, their figures flickering out of sight in an instant. Just as Liu Junzhuo marveled at their speed, Wen’an shouted to a female disciple ahead:

“Save me a front-row spot!”

Noticing Liu Junzhuo’s skeptical look, Wen’an coughed and resumed his gentlemanly composure. “Your master, Yuhengzi, is the current Sword Immortal. Witnessing his swordplay will benefit us immensely.”

Liu Junzhuo: “…Oh.”

By the time they arrived, a large crowd had gathered, including several elders. Everyone watched in silence as Xue Ying and Yuhengzi clashed.

It was unclear whether this was a routine master disciplining his rebellious disciple or the disciple challenging her master.

As a newcomer, Liu Junzhuo couldn’t discern the nuances, but the exchange of sword flashes and the cloudsplitter sword qi left him awestruck.

Senior Sister Xue Ying is truly incredible.

Meanwhile, the elders commented:

“Xue Ying’s swordsmanship has improved again. Ah, youth these days—frighteningly talented.”

“Yuheng’s sword intent has ascended another level since his journey.”

“The greatest form is formless; the greatest sound is silent; the greatest path is simple. Senior Brother’s sword intent has reached perfection.”

Every word reached Xue Ying’s ears. Expressionless, she took a step forward, her sword tip scraping the ground. Frost spread instantly, freezing everything in its path. When she looked at Yuhengzi again, her fury burned hotter.

This was the eighteenth time Yuhengzi had dodged her sword, refusing to engage directly.

Before leaving the mountain, he’d beaten her black and blue daily. Now that he was back, he wouldn’t even draw his sword. How impressive.

Xue Ying tightened her grip on the hilt, her voice icy. “Does Master look down on this disciple?”

Yuhengzi stood atop a withered tree, gazing down at her. Despite the prolonged duel, his robes remained pristine, his hair neatly tied with a jade crown, save for a few snowflakes dusting it.

Though titled the Sword Immortal, he appeared no older than thirty, more like a young noble when not wielding his sword.

“Disciple,” Yuhengzi sighed, his eyes tinged with helplessness. “Don’t be difficult.”

“Stop dodging! What is this, hide-and-seek or whack-a-mole? If you’re a man, come down and fight!”

The onlookers gasped. Liu Junzhuo’s illusions shattered as he turned to Wen’an, who remained unruffled.

“Junior Sister Xue Ying has a bit of a temper.”

“When pushed, she curses.”