Time flew by swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, Han Li had spent three months in arduous cultivation within his cave abode.
During this period, Kuihuan and his companions visited once more, apologetically informing Han Li that they had shared news of his mastery of talisman-making techniques with some senior members of their sect, hoping he wouldn’t take offense.
Since Han Li had long planned to use his talisman-making skills as a cover, he wasn’t truly bothered by this. After offering a few reassuring words, he sent them on their way.
As for Tianquan Peak, Han Li’s unexpected inclusion among the twenty-four selected disciples had prompted the cold and aloof Mu-clan woman to make a rare visit to the medicinal garden. She even spent half a day explaining the intricacies of the Profound Ice Art to Han Li, which left him both surprised and somewhat speechless.
Apart from these two groups, no one else disturbed Han Li’s cultivation.
One day, as Han Li was deeply engrossed in practicing the Azure Essence Sword Art in his meditation chamber, he suddenly furrowed his brows, ceased his cultivation, and stood up. When he stepped out of the chamber and the cave’s entrance into the medicinal garden, he saw a fiery streak—a message talisman—darting wildly through the misty restrictions of the garden.
Han Li gently parted the restrictions and beckoned, causing the talisman to obediently transform into a ball of flame and land in his palm. Moments later, he clenched his fist, extinguishing the flame without a trace.
“White Phoenix Peak, Ancestor Song! Isn’t that the Core Formation female cultivator renowned as the number one beauty of the Falling Cloud Sect? Could it be her who’s guiding me? If so, these next few days might not be so unbearable!” Han Li murmured expressionlessly. Without hesitation, he summoned his flying sword and headed straight for White Phoenix Peak.
White Phoenix Peak was located at the easternmost edge of the Falling Cloud Sect, standing apart from the other five peaks like a lone plum tree braving the snow. Though the shortest of the Six Marvel Peaks, it was lush with greenery and adorned with flowers and trees, its scenery surpassing all others, far beyond the likes of Tianquan Peak.
Soon, Han Li arrived near White Phoenix Peak.
Due to the peak’s predominantly female population, an unwritten rule dictated that male disciples from other peaks must first notify the disciples at the mountain’s entrance before entering. Otherwise, those who became trapped in the peak’s restrictions would have only themselves to blame.
Naturally, Han Li had no intention of forcing his way in. He obediently landed at the foot of the mountain.
At the entrance, three female Qi Condensation cultivators were chatting and laughing. Spotting the unfamiliar male disciple, they couldn’t help but eye him curiously.
“I am Han Li of Tianquan Peak, here to receive cultivation guidance from Ancestor Song. May I trouble you to announce my arrival?” Han Li clasped his hands and addressed the female disciples.
“So you’re Han Li! Ancestor has already instructed us. Junior Brother Han may proceed directly to the Phoenix Pavilion at the summit. She awaits you there,” a young woman with faint freckles replied with a light laugh.
Expressing his thanks, Han Li immediately took his leave and soared upward on his flying sword.
However, shortly after he departed, the three female disciples, assuming he was out of earshot, began gossiping freely.
“Is this Junior Brother Han really one of our sect’s participants in the Sword Trial Assembly? His cultivation doesn’t seem particularly high!”
“And his appearance is rather plain, nothing remarkable.”
“Giggle! You two don’t know, do you? I watched all of Junior Brother Han’s matches. Let me tell you…”
Hearing this, Han Li wore a wry smile as he withdrew his spiritual sense, shook his head, and continued his ascent to the summit.
White Phoenix Peak wasn’t particularly tall, and Han Li soon reached its apex. There, a flat expanse of land stretched a hundred zhang in radius, surrounded by drifting clouds and brimming with spiritual energy—a veritable paradise on earth.
In this fairyland-like setting stood a solitary three-story pavilion, about twenty zhang tall, constructed entirely from an unknown white wood, unpainted and exuding an elegant, ancient charm.
Han Li landed before the pavilion and announced loudly, “Disciple Han Li pays respects to Ancestor Song!”
As soon as he spoke, he felt a faint wisp of spiritual sense sweep over him. Pretending not to notice, he remained composed.
After a long pause, a gentle, melodious voice echoed from within the pavilion: “Since you’ve arrived, come directly to the second floor. I await you here.”
“Understood!” Without further ado, Han Li stepped forward and pushed open the wooden door.
The door swung open effortlessly, revealing a sparsely furnished first floor with only a cultivation array and nothing else.
After a quick glance, Han Li ascended to the second floor.
The second floor was similarly austere, featuring only a few wooden shelves laden with magical tools and jade slips, along with several chairs and a low stone table.
As Han Li emerged onto the second floor, he saw a woman in blue robes seated at the table, intently studying a pile of worn bamboo slips. Her cultivation was at the early Core Formation stage.
Just as Han Li hesitated, about to speak, the woman lifted her head, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful face.
“You are Han Li?” the stunning woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, asked calmly.
“Yes, Ancestor!” Han Li replied respectfully, hands at his sides.
“Good. Since you’ve made it here, consider it your fortune. I will do my best to guide you. However, you may only stay in the Phoenix Pavilion for three days. Once the time is up, you must leave. How much you comprehend during this period depends entirely on your own aptitude.” Her exceptionally clear and bright eyes fixed on Han Li as she spoke slowly.
For some reason, despite her relatively low cultivation, Han Li felt an inexplicable sensation of being completely exposed under her gaze, startling him inwardly. Given the strength of his spiritual sense, this reaction was highly unusual. Clearly, she had employed some mind-probing technique.
Without dwelling on it, Han Li outwardly maintained a respectful demeanor while secretly circulating the Great Development Art to shield his mind.
As Han Li remained vigilant and puzzled, a strange glint flickered in the blue-robed woman’s eyes before she closed them, a trace of weariness crossing her face.
“Recite the cultivation technique you’ve been practicing, then wait on the first floor. Do not come up unless summoned. After I’ve pondered it briefly, I’ll call you back to explain the obscure and difficult points. Begin now,” she said softly.
Understood. The technique I cultivate is the Profound Ice Art, bestowed upon me by Elder Mu. This technique…” Han Li recited the incantation without altering his expression.
After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Han Li finished his recitation.
The blue-robed woman nodded slightly and waved him away. Han Li bowed and withdrew without another word.
Watching Han Li’s retreating figure, the woman frowned slightly but remained motionless. Moments later, she rose gracefully, waved her hand, and a blue soundproof barrier enveloped her.
She then produced a message talisman, murmured a few words into it, and tossed it out of the barrier. The talisman transformed into a streak of fire and vanished through the window.
At the halfway point of Falling Cloud Sect’s main peak, in the pavilion where Core Formation cultivators had previously gathered, the white-bearded elder stood leisurely by the window, gazing into the distance. Suddenly, his eyes gleamed as a fiery streak shot toward him from the sky.
The elder raised his hand wordlessly, releasing a white mist that enveloped the flame, reducing it to a fiery message. The voice of the blue-robed woman came through briefly: “Han Li is clean. Du Dong is suspicious.”
“Hmph! Suspicious? I knew something was off. The Du family was once close to the Fu clan, who held significant power in the Hundred Crafts Academy. If he were truly a descendant of the Du family, he should have joined the Hundred Crafts Academy, not our Falling Cloud Sect,” the elder muttered coldly, his face darkening.
“However, Junior Sister Song’s Clear Spirit Insight technique grows ever more formidable. Aside from our two grandmasters, even I might struggle to resist it,” the elder mused, a hint of envy in his voice.
Over two months later, in the western mountain ranges of the Yunmeng Mountains, within a vast valley surrounded by peaks—the headquarters of the Hundred Crafts Academy—thousands of disciples clad in colorful robes gathered in the central plaza, chatting excitedly and creating a lively clamor.
Many craned their necks, scanning the skies with impatience, as if eagerly awaiting something.
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