“It’s not yet clear. Although they appeared, they never fought anyone. How’s Danqing’s consideration going? Would you like to join me to the Heavenly Court? Before coming, I already visited Fairy Immortal and Qingmo. Now I’m waiting for your response,” Wan Canglan said.
Nalan Danqing let out a soft sigh, “So many cultivators from the Kunlun Realm have awakened since the Middle Ages, each with unparalleled talent. Surely some have stepped into the ranks of the strong. Is it really true that they lack even the power to protect themselves?”
Wan Canglan sensed her reluctance to emerge into the world and, not wanting to press her, was about to bid farewell and leave.
Suddenly, Nalan Danqing’s graceful eyes fixed on the bamboo grove behind Wan Canglan, a trace of puzzlement appearing, “Sister, are you being followed?”
“Boom!”
Wan Canglan’s gaze sharpened, her body radiating the majestic aura of a Great Saint.
With a phoenix cry, a fiery phoenix shadow surged from her body, hovering in mid-air, its wings crimson as blood, flames distorting the surrounding space.
Back in the Ancestral Spirit Realm, Wan Canglan and Mu Lingxi each inherited half of the Ice-Fire Phoenix’s legacy.
The old woman guarding North Cliff, her white hair crackling with electric threads, released her mental power to probe all directions.
North Cliff was protected by ancestral texts left by the Confucian Ancestor. Unless someone followed them, no outsider could intrude here.
Moments later, Wan Canglan frowned, “I’ve unleashed the Fire Phoenix Domain. Why can’t I sense the presence of another cultivator?”
“There doesn’t seem to be a fourth person,” the old woman said.
Nalan Danqing’s expression remained calm as she gazed at a vibrant cluster of purple wisteria flowers beneath the bamboo grove, “Your mental power is remarkable, and your aura-concealing technique is extraordinarily profound, almost perfectly blended with the heavens and earth. However, I’ve lived on this North Cliff for centuries and know every blade of grass, every flower, every stone like the back of my hand.”
“You don’t harmonise with the nature here, nor do you blend with the rules of this heaven and earth.”
“Clang!”
A holy flame war sword on Wan Canglan’s back flew out on its own, merging with countless holy rules, trailing blinding flames and sword energy, slashing forward.
This strike carried boundless destructive force, causing the ancestral texts of North Cliff to surface.
Yet, strangely, the blazing holy flame sword halted above the wisteria flowers, held by an invisible force.
Wan Canglan’s delicate face shifted as she channelled her full strength.
But the sword neither advanced nor retreated.
“Swish!”
A blurry figure appeared beside the wisteria flowers, one hand behind its back, the other grasping the trembling holy flame sword’s hilt, strolling forward leisurely.
Wan Canglan’s slender legs erupted with powerful force. With a push of her toes, she transformed into a dazzling, beautiful fiery shadow, striking at the figure with a palm.
The blurry figure twisted slightly.
Wan Canglan’s punch missed, leaving a trail of flame on the ground, nearly unable to stop herself from crashing into the bamboo grove. She steadied herself, turned, and looked at the vague figure holding the sword, her expression deeply complex.
Her attack had been launched within her domain.
Yet the opponent moved effortlessly within it, easily dodging her strike.
What level of cultivation could achieve this?
The blurry figure said, “Impressive. Worthy of someone who inherited the Ice-Fire Phoenix and Nine Luminaries Divine Monarch, Martial Saint Canglan. Your cultivation has reached such heights.”
Though it was praise, compared to the earlier encounter, Wan Canglan found it grating, feeling the other was mocking her.
The Nine Luminaries Divine Monarch, the ruler of the fifth-ranked Tianquan Great World in the Western Universe ten thousand years ago, fell in a divine war, leaving only nine divine tears that landed in the Kunlun Realm.
Each of the nine divine tears contained the essence of his divine power and cultivation legacy, one of which was refined and absorbed by the Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady.
With such an opportunity and a thousand years of cultivation, she couldn’t even touch her opponent’s shadow.
How could Wan Canglan be pleased when the other praised her?
“Since you provoke me so, how can I not respond?” Wan Canglan, fearless, unleashed even more devastating power, her flames so intense they seemed capable of melting everything.
Nalan Danqing said, “Do you know that North Cliff is the forbidden ground of the Scholar Sect? Intruders will be killed without mercy.”
As she spoke, she raised two jade-like, slender fingers above her head. Instantly, the world transformed, countless ancestral texts shimmering like stars above her.
Ancestral texts were akin to divine patterns.
But divine patterns varied in power.
For instance, divine patterns left by a Divine Sovereign would intimidate even gods.
The ancestral texts on North Cliff, left by the Third Confucian Ancestor, one of the Twenty Heavens, were even more terrifying. Now, mobilised by Nalan Danqing, the holy energy of the entire Scholar Mountain surged towards her.
The blurry figure said, “Does the talented lady remember an old friend from the Fallen God Tomb Forest and the Endless Abyss?”
Nalan Danqing’s brow furrowed, sinking into distant memories. Suddenly, she recalled something, staring at the hazy figure with disbelief.
“Impossible. How could it be you? You clearly already…”
Unconsciously, she dispersed her mental power, and all the ancestral texts receded like a tide, vanishing from North Cliff.
The blurry figure said, “I still remember that year, riding the Ascending Heaven Boat, drifting on the Corpse River, evading pursuers. I also recall picking up blood-stained chess pieces in the Endless Abyss.”
Nalan Danqing’s doubts vanished, as only they two knew of these events.
Her eyes fixed unblinkingly, still feeling it was too surreal, as if her inner demons had resurfaced, threatening to drag her into an illusion.
The sun set completely.
A full moon rose, radiant as a jade disc.
Under the moonlight, Nalan Danqing appeared purer and holier, like an orchid on the cliff, untouched by worldly matters.
Wan Canglan, puzzled, watched the two figures by the cliff, unable to guess who had come. They seemed deeply acquainted with Danqing. Had she not been standing nearby, they might have embraced.
Could it be that Danqing had a beloved all these years?
Wan Canglan let out a heavy, cold hum. What man in the world was worthy of Danqing?
Zhang Ruochen released his mental power domain, then revealed his true form, looking at Nalan Danqing standing by the cliff, her back to the moon, and smiled, “A thousand years apart, we’ve grown distant!”
Nalan Danqing’s heart calmed, and she smiled radiantly, “Indeed, we’ve grown distant! A thousand years without a single letter. This isn’t just distance, it’s practically strangers.”
Zhang Ruochen said, “I never expected a bizarre experience would cost me a thousand years.”
“Then, after a thousand years, how many people have you seen before Danqing?” she asked.
The question struck Zhang Ruochen like a fatal blow.
He thought carefully, then said, “Tonight is the Lantern Festival, the moon full in the sky. On such a beautiful night, with an old friend visiting, shall we stand here in the cold? Why not go to your thatched cottage, share a pot of tea, and talk about the past thousand years? Wouldn’t that be delightful?”
“You sneaked into the Scholar Sect just to tell me about your adventures?”
“I could hear about yours too.”
Nalan Danqing shook her head, “You’ve changed!”
Zhang Ruochen touched his face, wistful, “A man who’s died twice can’t possibly remain the same.”
“I didn’t mean your appearance.”
“Then what?”
“In the past, if I asked who you’d seen before me, you’d answer honestly, explaining all the reasons. But just now, you mentioned the Lantern Festival, hinting how much you value me by visiting on such a festive night. I call you cunning, and I’m not wrong, am I?” Nalan Danqing said.
Zhang Ruochen sighed, “Can I hide nothing from you? You see through me so clearly. How can we continue this chat?”
“But I like it,” Nalan Danqing said suddenly.
Zhang Ruochen, surprised, asked, “Like what?”
“I like that you came to see me on the Lantern Festival, that you answered my question in a way I prefer. I like everything, and I’m delighted, happier than all the Lantern Festivals of the past thousand years combined.”
They didn’t go to the cottage but stood by the cliff, gazing at the moon, overlooking the boundless Sea of Learning, sharing tales of the past, present, and future.
Laughter rang out now and then.
Now, Nalan Danqing was no longer the Saintly Scholar by Empress Chi Yao’s side, and Zhang Ruochen was no longer a fugitive of the former dynasty. Both could set aside their identities, interacting with unprecedented ease.
The old woman guarding North Cliff had long departed.
But Wan Canglan remained by the bamboo grove, watching the two by the cliff, unable to hear their conversation or see the man’s figure clearly.
Zhang Ruochen and Nalan Danqing each took out an ancient zither, sitting opposite each other, oblivious to Wan Canglan, the third person on the cliff, and began to play.
They played several pieces in succession.
Zhang Ruochen pressed his fingers on the strings, pausing, and asked, “I’ve recently picked up music again. How were those pieces?”
“Truly exquisite. With your mental strength, mastering music is effortless. But compared to a true master of the zither, you’re still far off.”
“I’m not a zither master?”
Nalan Danqing shook her head.
“Who is?”
Nalan Danqing blinked, hinting at herself.
Zhang Ruochen put away his zither, unwilling to compete with this master of the zither. He’d been confident in his musical skills recently, but the Saintly Scholar had humbled him.
“Ten years for the flute, a hundred for the xiao, a thousand for the pipa, ten thousand for the zither. How long have you practiced, Young Master Ruochen, to call yourself a zither master? You’re not that petty, are you?” Nalan Danqing said.
“No more playing. I seal my zither. I came to see an old friend, only to be thoroughly humbled.”
“I can teach you, if you take me as your master.”
“Let’s just catch up.”
“There’s nothing old to catch up on. In your eyes, is Danqing just an old acquaintance? With new friends, shouldn’t the old be forgotten?”
“I can’t outtalk you. I surrender. Teach me the zither, Master. Your disciple pays respect.”
