Li Xun stood there, frozen and helpless.
Behind him, the sound of water hadn't stopped. The woman behind the mist was still calmly washing herself, unbothered and unhurried.
Li Xun was a little dazed by it all. He didn't have much experience with women, but one who could bathe so leisurely in the presence of a man… surely that had to be rare?
He wasn't stupid. He understood perfectly well by now—this was someone way, way out of his league. Before a person like this, the smartest move was to behave like a well-mannered child.
Even though he'd already turned his back, he still kept his eyes shut tightly, afraid he might offend her again by accident. This had nothing to do with propriety—it was pure survival instinct.
Only once he was sure everything was in order did he stammer out:
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—!"
The woman didn't answer right away. All he could hear was the sound of water splashing behind him—each drop a slow, cruel torture to his nerves.
He didn't know how much time passed before the woman finally spoke.
"What you said is likely true… but why the panic? Rules don't bend just because of who's involved. Whether smart or stupid, the consequences are the same."
Li Xun was speechless.
This woman was terrifying.
After a slight pause, she spoke again:
"Your cultivation's weak, and you can't even ride a sword. How did you make it up here?"
Li Xun blurted out, "I climbed."
This time, for the first time, a hint of emotion entered her voice—a faint flicker of surprise. That little shift alone made Li Xun feel oddly proud.
Then she asked:
"Are you a disciple of the Mingxin Sword Sect?"
That was clearly a question about his identity.
Li Xun silently thanked his luck that his internal energy cycling at the moment was of the standard Mingxin Sword Sect technique. Had even a wisp of hisNetherYin Qi leaked out, this woman probably would've struck him down before he could say a word.
Feeling relieved, his mind spun quickly through all the consequences. In the end, he decided: tell the truth—at least, his version of it.
"Ashamed to say, I'm just a low-level disciple, barely worth mentioning…"
He used this as a soft opening, and then launched into his story—his background, and how he'd spent the past seven years climbing this mountain.
Of course, he left out key details: the threat from the Blood Wanderer, and the recent discovery of the Netherworld Record. Instead, he painted himself as someone determined in the Dao, who, after being cast aside, chose to climb Zuowang Peak in silent perseverance to prove his heart.
This story was one he had refined and polished over the years, preparing it as an explanation for the future. He'd never told anyone before, but it was etched deeply in his mind.
At first, his words were a bit clumsy. But soon, the story flowed smoothly. His vocabulary came effortlessly, every line sounding utterly "sincere."
He talked for a good quarter of an hour. The woman asked a few questions along the way—nothing unexpected—and he answered each with confidence.
When he finally finished, she said something that caught him off guard:
"So, the world still produces such people…"
Her tone was as calm and flat as before, like she was stating something completely ordinary—but the meaning behind it was unmistakable. Li Xun felt a rush of joy, though outwardly he kept his composure and quickly expressed his thanks.
She didn't seem to care how he reacted. She simply continued:
"To climb alone for seven years, traveling more than two hundred thousand li, and to endure all that suffering… you are indeed a remarkable person. My earlier attitude was a bit rude. Walk a hundred steps to your left and come ashore. Once I'm dressed, we'll speak properly."
Li Xun, of course, obeyed immediately. He climbed ashore without saying a word, and stood there respectfully, composing himself with great care.
Only a few heartbeats later, a figure emerged slowly from the mist.
Mist swirled and clung to her like drifting silk. Though her face was still hidden, the way she glided across the water and how her long skirt swayed—it left Li Xun utterly entranced. He'd never seen anyone like her in his entire life.
He thought he heard the faint chime of a bell, weaving into the mist like some part of her presence—soft, almost imperceptible, yet it felt inseparable from the figure approaching him. The delicate sound wrapped itself around his senses, completely capturing his mind.
Then, as the water vapor parted, he stopped breathing altogether.
What kind of beauty was this?
Her face was flawless, untouched by even a speck of dust—like a narcissus blooming beside still water. Cold and proud, yet tinged with a subtle trace of melancholy.
He hadn't even found the words to describe her yet when his knees nearly buckled beneath him. He wanted nothing more than to fall to the ground and worship.
Their eyes met. Her gaze flickered, and in it, he saw a flash of something brilliant. His mind blanked completely. In a daze, he heard her murmur:
"You look like someone I once knew…"
That voice stirred something deep inside him. Where had he heard those words before?
Just as the haze began to clear, a name exploded in his mind—
Qingxu Immortal Master!
Struck by the name that had haunted him for seven years, Li Xun shuddered violently. When he finally came back to his senses, he saw the woman had already sat down gracefully on the grass, combing her long, waist-length hair. Droplets fell from her silky strands like crystals, and a faint fragrance—soft and distinctly feminine—wafted toward him.
Li Xun's legs bent on their own, and he fell to his knees. He didn't dare lift his head, only asked in a humble voice:
"May I ask which Immortal Master I have the honor to meet?"
As he asked, several names had already flashed through his mind—ones he had learned seven years ago while listening to Elder Ming Yan tell ancient stories. The elder immortals of the Mingxin Sword Sect had always leaned toward yang over yin, and there were only a few renowned female cultivators, so it wasn't all that hard to guess.
The woman glanced at him, her hands still combing her hair, and responded lightly:
"Qingyin."
The moment he heard the name, Li Xun pressed his forehead even lower to the ground, afraid any stray thought might betray him.
So it was her!
Qingyin—one of the most tragic figures in the history of the Mingxin Sword Sect.
She was linked to one of the most infamous cases in the Tongxuan Realm, involving none other than the dreaded Jade Wanderer, one of the three Wanderers.
At that time, Jade Wanderer's lair was not yet in the Polar Night's Heaven of the North Pole, but rather located in the Falling Jade Mountain in the central region of the realm. Known as the Ten Thousand Immortals' No Return, it was one of the Six Forbidden Lands of the Tongxuan Realm—the No Return Land.
It was there that Qingyin was captured by Jade Wanderer—an incident that instantly ruined her reputation.
And it was during this moment of crisis that the legendary genius of the Mingxin Sword Sect made his name—Zhong Yin, the most gifted cultivator in the sect's long history.
Zhong Yin stormed the No Return Land alone, wielding only his sword, to rescue Qingyin. In that fireice battle, he faced not only Jade Wanderer but also hundreds of his subordinates. For three full hours, sword qi pierced the skies. By the end, more than half of Jade Wanderer's men were slain, and with one strike through the chest, Zhong Yin forced Jade Wanderer to flee thousands of miles to his niece, Gu Yin.
Such a battle—the likes of which hadn't been seen in a thousand years—could only be carried out by Zhong Yin, known as the Number One Sword of Tongxuan.
Afterward, Zhong Yin's fame burned like the sun at high noon, while Qingyin—unfortunately—became a quiet shadow among his many accomplishments, always remembered, but never discussed.
From that moment on, Qingyin quietly withdrew from the world and lived in seclusion somewhere on Zuowang Peak. Zhong Yin, after dazzling the Tongxuan Realm for several centuries, also established a cave residence on Zuowang Peak to keep Qingyin company. The two of them became cultivators of the Mingxin Sword Sect who resided and cultivated on Zuowang Peak year-round.
Now, standing before the very subject of those ancient tragedies, Li Xun's thoughts began to swirl chaotically. He wasn't even sure what he was thinking.
In a daze, he bowed again. "Immortal Qingyin, I offer you my respects. Disciple Li Xun pays homage."
Qingyin continued combing her hair, her voice soft as she replied: "To come from a noble house and still possess such perseverance… these years, you are the only one I've seen. You're not bad."
Li Xun felt a surge of joy, though he forced himself to remain composed. "Immortal Master overpraises me."
Qingyin paid no mind to his words. "Your cultivation is still shallow," she continued. "but your internal breathing shows remarkable refinement. I imagine you could maintain a closed breath state for two or three hours, no?"
"This disciple can just about manage."
At last, Qingyin set down her comb and gave a small nod.
"In the path of inner cultivation, nothing is more dangerous than building a tower in the air—unstable foundations are fatal. You have suffered, yes, but in terms of foundation, you've done well. You've taken steady steps, cultivated both inwardly and outwardly. YourThree Treasures (essence, energy, and spirit) are in harmony—I'd say the day you achieve full internal and external integration is not far off now.
"Maintain this, and deepen your practice step by step. Though your progress may be slower than others for the first hundred years, in the next thousand, others won't be able to catch you. If you can endure for a millennium, then even ascension to immortality will not be out of reach."
At first, Li Xun was delighted—but then he froze.
"Immortal Master, do you mean…?"
Qingyin did not answer. She began coiling her long hair into a topknot, her movements smooth and elegant. Only a few strands were left hanging, and the knot she formed didn't match any known worldly style—simple, yet carrying a unique grace.
Even with worry in his heart, Li Xun couldn't help sneaking a glance at her. He feared he was being improper but wasn't sure if Qingyin noticed.
Only after her hair was tied up did she finally speak again.
"Do you know where on Zuowang Peak this place is?"
Li Xun felt a jolt in his heart. "I do not, Immortal Master," he answered honestly:
"From the foot of the mountain to here is exactly 274,900 li. You've passed the halfway point of the peak. According to sect rules, you are now automatically recognized as a disciple under the Mingxin Sword Sect, and eligible to enter the Hall of Beginnings, where you can learn proper techniques and be taken as a student by a formal master.
"Of course… if you wish to keep climbing, and become a direct heir of the Sect Leader himself—that's also a possibility."