The chosen disciple shuddered in fear. “!!!”
Was his practice really that bad?
The Second Elder rarely demonstrated himself; usually, the head disciple would demonstrate while he offered a pointer or two from the side.
Why was he in such high spirits today?
The disciples hurriedly cleared an open space, bracing themselves and focusing with all their might.
Song Yao watched as the Second Elder, who had been speaking to her just a second ago, suddenly began to brandish his sword.
His sword movements were elegant, resembling a swimming dragon.
It was indeed a top-tier sword style.
Ming Ran's eyes widened. Without a second thought, she joined the ranks of the disciples to watch and learn attentively, not forgetting to tell Song Yao, “It's just a demonstration, so it should be quick. Have a seat and wait a moment.”
“Okay.”
Song Yao was in no hurry. She walked over to the armchair beside the high platform, sat down, and propped up her head, feeling a bit drowsy.
She shouldn't have drunk that wine.
It was getting in the way.
After waiting for a while, the Second Elder in the center of the sword arena showed no sign of stopping. Instead, the more he brandished his sword, the more carried away and energetic he became.
The disciples had looked on in awe at first, but after watching for about an hour, they felt something was off.
Had the Second Elder lost his mind?
Was he ever going to stop?
Could it be that their practice was so terrible that they had driven him to desperation?
Dust blinded their eyes and the sword strikes were fierce. No one had the ability to step forward and stop him, so they could only watch helplessly as he brandished his sword for another half hour before finally stopping.
The head disciple hurried forward, looking anxious. “M-Master, are you alright?”
The Second Elder casually looked up, stealing a glance at Song Yao, who was curled up asleep in the armchair. Letting out a small sigh of relief, he handed his sword to the head disciple and whispered, “I am fine. Alright, keep practicing. I have other matters to attend to, so I shall take my leave first.”
Ming Ran snapped out of it and hurriedly called out, “Master! My master still has something to ask you!”
As she turned to wake Song Yao, before she could even open her mouth, her lips were firmly sealed by a gust of spiritual energy.
The Second Elder said in panic, “Do not wake her! She is so weak and has finally managed to get some sleep. Do not disturb her!”
He then solemnly instructed the other disciples, “Keep your sword practice quiet as well. Do not wake your Seventh Senior Sister.”
The disciples: “?”
Keep sword practice... quiet?
Having said that, the Second Elder cast another glance at Song Yao before quickly turning and leaving the sword arena.
...
By the time Song Yao woke up, the sky had already grown dark.
Looking around, she found herself back in her own room.
Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she sat in place in a daze for a moment.
She had gone out busy today, yet it felt like she had accomplished nothing. She only remembered watching the Second Elder teach swordplay, and as she watched, she simply couldn't resist falling asleep.
In the end, she still hadn't managed to get any information out of him.
Rubbing her temples, she got out of bed, draped her cloak over her shoulders, and walked outside.
A faint light still glowed in the bamboo house not far away.
She walked over with a straight face, and the door swung open on its own. A few steaming dishes were laid out on the round table inside. Fusheng, with his sleeves tucked, was placing a bowl of sweet glutinous rice balls on the table. Seeing her, he said gently, “Awake? Come eat now that you're up.”
Song Yao sat down with her arms crossed, looking rather displeased. “Did you tell them to avoid me?”
Fusheng poured her another cup of tea. “Them?”
Song Yao took a sip of tea before reaching for the glutinous rice balls, playing with a white porcelain spoon in her hand. “The elders.”
“You wrong me.”
Fusheng shook his head and sat down at the table, holding a volume of an ancient book. “I haven't even gone down the mountain before, nor have I met them. Besides, why would they listen to me on such matters?”
He had a point.
But if it wasn't on his orders, why were the elders avoiding her like the plague?
Did they know her identity or not?
She had originally hoped to be exposed quickly so she could leave sooner, but the current situation was clearly not going her way.
She unhurriedly ate two bowls of glutinous rice balls and a large bowl of rice before putting down her chopsticks, informing Fusheng, “I'm going out again tomorrow.”
Fusheng nodded. “Alright. Don't fall asleep outside tomorrow. Come back early if you're tired.”
Song Yao let his words go in one ear and out the other. Before stepping out, she added, “By the way, your new disciple is looking for you.”
A rare trace of bewilderment appeared in Fusheng's eyes. “New disciple?”
Song Yao: “Jiang Jin, your sixth disciple. Did you forget?”
Fusheng remembered. “I haven't.”
Song Yao was quite displeased. “If you don't go see him, he'll keep tormenting me. It's very annoying. He's your new disciple, not mine.”
Fusheng couldn't help but chuckle. “I understand. My apologies.”
“It's fine.”
Song Yao knew him all too well.
Unsurprisingly, he still wouldn't be looking for Jiang Jin anytime soon.
The Nine Saints Hall's teaching style was purely hands-off, and he was the most hands-off of them all.
Even for his personal disciples, it was already a miracle if he remembered to toss them a few high-grade mental cultivation methods or techniques.
Back when the few of them, his personal disciples, were still around, he had already washed his hands of everything.
During their first year of entry, he had taught them absolutely nothing, only checking in on their learning progress from time to time.
It wasn't until she made several scenes and caused trouble a few times that he realized something was wrong and decided to personally guide her back to the right path.
Though it yielded no results.
Now that he couldn't even be bothered to act as the Hall Master, he was even less likely to waste his free time on Jiang Jin.
...
The next morning, Song Yao woke up and went down the mountain as planned.
Ming Ran was waiting for her and brought some bad news. “Following the Beiyao Sect's previous raid, evil cultivators took the opportunity to invade a nearby city. My master took a few disciples out of the city today to help. He probably won't be back for a few days.”
Song Yao counted on her fingers and calculated the remaining elders. “It's fine. Let's go see the Sixth Elder and the Twelfth Elder.”
These two elders had also emerged from the array core and had witnessed her opening it with their own eyes.
It definitely wouldn't go wrong to seek them out.
Ming Ran tagged along eagerly, bursting with curiosity. “What on earth are you looking for these elders for? What could be so urgent?”
Song Yao spoke the honest truth. “I want to see if they've recognized me as Song Yao.”
Ming Ran blanked, then couldn't help but laugh out loud. “Master, you're more obsessed than those evil cultivators. Well, to be honest, I want to be Third Senior Sister too. How could she be so strong? If only she could give me a pointer or two, my swordplay would definitely improve by leaps and bounds.”
Having said that, she couldn't help but feel a bit of regret. “If she hadn't done those bad things, she would surely still be the number one sword cultivator in the Tianshu Realm. With such talent, why did she do things that ruined her own life?”
Song Yao thought for a moment. “Maybe because it was fun.”
Ming Ran: “...F-Fun?”
She stared at her master's back, frowning slightly.
Hiss—
Why did it feel like her master really possessed a bit of that rumored Sword Demon's temperament?
An illusion.
It must be an illusion.
While they were talking, they arrived at Baicao Peak. The gates of the Pill Pavilion were tightly shut, and the disciples passing by were busier than ever, clearly having no time to receive guests.
The two bypassed the Pill Pavilion and walked toward the medicinal peak behind it.
The medicinal peak was no longer as lush as before. Having been pillaged, it now resembled a barren mountain.
The medicine cultivators were bent over in the herb fields, their brows knitted in deep anxiety. Every single one of them looked extremely frantic; clearly, the state of the spiritual plants was far from promising.
Rate on N.U.
