By the time we reached the shop front, there was only a quarter-hour left before the arrival of the New Year. Gu and Luo had no intention of lingering, but Du Chuilun stood quietly for a moment before saying softly, "Sister, Happy New Year."
"Mhm, good boy," I said with a smile, handing him a red envelope. "Happy New Year, Seventh Brother. May every year go as you wish, and may you always be safe and sound."
He raised his hand and placed a small box in my palm, then hurried to catch up with the two older men. Back inside, I opened the box to find a "Fluttering Moth" hair pin, a traditional ornament for the Lantern Festival. Made of delicate silk in the shape of a golden butterfly, it was clearly a product of Rongbao Zhai, likely costing no less than a thousand spirit stones. I gazed at it in silence for a while before tucking it away in a drawer.
For the Lantern Festival, the Emperor—showing consideration for the people—had decreed a grand celebration only once every ten years since his ascension. However, three years ago, an official suggested allowing the private sector to bid for the hosting of certain lights and performances. This received imperial praise and had been implemented annually since. By the time June arrived each year, the business world would already be embroiled in a cutthroat struggle for hosting rights. Consequently, the Ao Mountains of light grew larger and more magnificent with every passing year.
This year, the winning bid went to the Dayou Merchant Guild, an organization even wealthier than the Wantong Guild. They claimed they would use eight hundred thousand glass lanterns to construct a "Bright Pavilion of Circling Dragons and Phoenixes." The performances were selected from artists across the fourteen provinces; the program list alone was two feet long. I spotted Tong Jinhu’s name on it and smiled faintly.
That evening, when I came downstairs fully prepared, Du Chuilun’s expression shifted. "Sister, why are you dressed like that...?"
Imitating Wei Qingming’s manner, I brushed my hand over my male robes and gave a dashing, self-assured smile. "How do I look?"
Dressed thus, I obviously wouldn't be wearing the Fluttering Moth pin he had given me. He was clearly disappointed, offering only a quiet "Mhm" before falling silent.
To match my attire, I used an illusion to stretch my modest height of five-foot-six to nearly six feet. However, I left my face untouched; with no makeup at all, I wouldn't truly be mistaken for a man. As we walked side-by-side into the teeming crowds of Changning Imperial Street, I took the lead, parrying and blocking the throng to clear a path for him. The ground was already littered with dropped handkerchiefs, socks, turbans, hairpins, and Fluttering Moths. Reflected in the light that made the night as bright as day, these discarded trifles were the ultimate proof of the festivities, yet they felt inexplicably lonely.
Gradually, he began to walk slower and slower. When I looked back, a gap of seven or eight paces had opened between us, filled with countless strangers. He stood still for a moment, then suddenly lowered his eyes and said, "Sister, go find Brother Gu and Brother Luo. I won't be going."
I could have called out to him, but I simply watched as he turned and pushed through the crowd, vanishing into the sea of lanterns.
For a period afterward, things were awkward between us. In the cramped confines of the shop, there was nowhere to hide. He stayed huddled behind the counter or in the kitchen, while I went out to meet friends, deliver goods, or take on miscellaneous tasks as usual. Finally, as the spring blossoms withered, this long, silent rejection came to an end. He stopped pouring his heart into every little thing for me; we simply ate three meals a day together and discussed shop business when necessary. Beyond that, there was no intersection.
One day, after finishing a task for a noble family in the west of the city, I found myself right next to the Wen estate. I stood for a long time by the side gate I used to frequent. Perhaps because the Qingming Festival was approaching and my longing had flared, or perhaps because the sky that day looked exactly like the clear afternoon after a rain when Wei Qingming had just recovered from her injuries, I couldn't stop myself. I activated my movement technique and flew along the path from the Wen estate to the Wei residence—a path I had walked dozens of times—straight to her home.
I stood at the base of the wall I always climbed, standing on my tiptoes to look at the trees in the garden. A tall orange tree stretched its leaves over the wall, though it was far from the time for its blossoms to bloom.
I indulged in my memories for a moment before walking around to the main gate. It was tightly shut, the lock covered in dust. Clearly, no one had entered or left for a long time.
I walked across the street to the gates of the Marquis of Dingyuan’s estate and struck up a conversation with the gatekeeper. He said, "That door hasn't opened since last autumn. Lady, are you a... relative of the Wei family?"
"A friend."
The gatekeeper pulled his neck in, his face clearly saying, *Even a notorious person like that has friends?* but he smiled and said, "Oh, it's good to have a friend with such great influence. Even when our Master meets her at the door, he has to be quite polite..."
The days flew by, neither salty nor sweet. Spring came again and again, and the dolls made by the Zhen family now filled a large crate. The peddler brought the final small item; this time, it was a solitary piece without a matching set. It was a cat-faced demi-human girl with smiling eyes. The peddler said that as a thank-you for my business over the past two years, he hadn't charged me for this one. He had described my figure and appearance to the craftsman to have it specially made as a parting gift. He was returning to his hometown to marry and care for his elderly, ailing parents.
I couldn't let him leave empty-handed, so I selected a pair of fish-shaped jade pendants from the shop to congratulate him on his upcoming wedding. He thanked me excitedly and left.
I stroked the cat-girl doll. Indeed, the figure was a close match, though the face was nothing unique—just a common cat mask. She was in a walking pose, her head slightly turned back with a smile, one hand extended as if holding someone behind her, or perhaps just swinging naturally. When I touched the soles of her shoes, I felt something rough. I discovered two tiny wooden pegs protruding from the bottom, as if meant to be slotted into something... My heart skipped a beat. I raced upstairs and frantically opened the small boxes containing the toys, spreading them across the floor.
Hundreds of exquisite miniatures, dozens of courtyard walls of varying heights—they could be pieced together according to a specific pattern. They fit perfectly, eventually forming an elegant miniature estate, complete with flowing water and swaying trees. I found a small indentation in the courtyard that looked like a flaw and slotted the cat-girl into it. She stood firmly, her dynamic pose appearing even more lively.
I hadn't wept like that in a long time... I sat there motionless, covering my face, crying silently until my throat felt parched and cracked. Du Chuilun placed a pot of tea outside my closed door, but I didn't take a single sip until the night grew deep and cold.
Three days later, my Master Brother, whom I hadn't seen in a long time, suddenly arrived with his sister. Accompanying them was the taciturn Ninth Sister, Feng Yao. Even just standing at the door with his hands behind his back, he felt remarkably different.
I smiled, about to congratulate him on his rapid progress in the mid-stage of the Canxia Realm, but then I sensed something was off. I blinked and observed him for a long time until Lu Kaifeng laughed first. "I didn't succeed. No need for congratulations."
I coughed, about to offer some words of comfort, when he said, "But three years of secluded meditation weren't for nothing. I can now open a Phantom Domain."
"A Phantom Domain!" I cried out. "That's much more impressive than a breakthrough in cultivation! It's something that can be sought but not found! It means reaching the Star-Plucking Realm will be as easy as taking something from a pocket! We must have a grand feast tonight to celebrate!"
Du Chuilun also came out to pay his respects. After the five of us exchanged greetings, Master Brother handed me a letter from our Master. In it, Master had used her elegant cursive to command that "Nineteen" Feng Yao would replace me, working with "Seventeen" Du Chuilun to manage the shop. My new mission, along with the Lu siblings, was to head to the Wujing Sect in Yanzhou and remain there until the Tianshan Assembly ended in October. I was bewildered, so Lu Kaifeng explained: "A month ago, Lu Hongzhen, the Head of the Lingxian Pavilion of the Wujing Sect, sent a disciple to our mountain. He proposed that Dream-Deceased Mountain disciples go to the Wujing Sect to select scriptures and study, in exchange for our sect's illusion techniques and scriptures. There will also be financial compensation. During our stay, we will receive the same treatment as elite disciples of the Wujing Sect for a period of six months. The road to Yanzhou is difficult, so we must depart as soon as possible."
He turned to Du Chuilun and smiled. "Seventh Brother, you will go to the Wujing Sect after the Tianshan Assembly, along with Third Brother, Eighth Sister, and Ninth Sister."
Du Chuilun nodded with a serene expression, showing no particular reaction, but I was thrilled. This was the Wujing Sect’s famous "Huanxian"—the Scripture Exchange!
After Ni Tian founded the sect and the Great Ancestor established the dynasty, the Imperial Court and the Wujing Sect collaborated to collect spiritual texts and classics from across the world, housing them in the Lingxian Pavilion at the sect's headquarters in Yanzhou. For a thousand years, if the Head of the Lingxian Pavilion issued an invitation to a sect for a technique exchange, it was considered a supreme honor. Generally speaking, the techniques one could obtain from the Wujing Sect were safer and possessed more potential than the unrefined, newly created techniques of the common martial world. Furthermore, having one's own sect's classics entered into the world's greatest library meant they would be discussed and refined by polymaths, ensuring their preservation for eternity.
On the surface, it seemed the Wujing Sect gained little from this, but through a thousand years of accumulation, they had become truly all-encompassing. Different techniques could be cross-referenced to fill gaps and make great improvements. Moreover, for a sect to function long-term, it must avoid stagnation and corruption. Constantly bringing in fresh, vibrant outside cultivators and techniques could stir the "still waters," promoting competition and vitality.
Among the techniques of the common world, there was no shortage of brilliant innovations that might benefit the fundamental laws of the Wujing Sect. In fact, after a thousand years of effort by over a dozen generations, it was said that the Wujing Sect’s most important supreme scripture, the *Tianni*, was gradually approaching perfection.
After my initial excitement, I calmed down a bit. After all, we were the descendants of one of the four Great Artifacts, the Thousand Truths and Thousand Illusions, and the direct lineage of a Sun-Shrouding Realm expert. In terms of seniority, we were far superior to the Wujing Sect; they should have invited our great techniques into their sect long ago!
The straight-line distance from Pingjing to Yanzhou wasn't far—only about three thousand *li*. The difficulty lay in the rugged mountainous terrain of the entire province. Less than five hundred *li* outside the capital region stood the Yan Mountains, reaching a height of four thousand *zhang*. Standing at their base, looking up was like facing the very edge of the heavens. Beyond them lay a vast region of ice lakes. The scattered black marshes, filled with a thousand years of corrosive rain, had become toxic. The obsidian-like ice was covered in pure white snow—a true union of purity and filth, strangely eerie. The terrain climbed steadily with the ice lakes, forming a vast plateau. At the end of that plateau stood the Heluo Mountains, which were said to be harder to scale than the path to the blue heavens. It was rumored that even the divine Qingluan birds, the best flyers, could not cross them in a single flight.
Reaching the Wujing Sect directly through Yanzhou was fraught with peril, so the route north actually went northeast, looping through Qingzhou before turning northwest. The Wujing Sect’s headquarters sat in a gap south of the Heluo Mountains and north of the Tutai Mountains. Strictly speaking, it was at the border of Yan and Qing provinces. Originally a natural river loop with lush grass and a mild climate, it could give one the illusion of a Jiangnan spring during the summer. However, it was the only gap in the ten-thousand-*li* border between the Kingdom of Jing and the Nation of Shiying. Since ancient times, it had been a place of constant warfare and suffering. This lasted until Ni Tian chose this location for his sect's gate. Using a secret method to alter the spiritual veins, he forced the creation of a short, man-made mountain range to the north to fill the gap—the Tianshan Mountains, featuring eighteen main peaks. The Tianshan range was only five hundred *li* long, its highest point only three thousand *zhang*. Between the two massive, ten-thousand-*li* mountain ranges spanning two provinces, it seemed tiny, yet it was one of the nation's most precious barriers. Without it, the thousand years of overall peace and prosperity would not have existed.
Perhaps Ni Tian had bypassed the prosperity of the two capitals, the wealth of Wuyue, the abundance of Eyu, and the thoroughfares of Jinsui specifically to choose this bitter, cold place so that his descendants would guard the peace of Great Jing’s borders for generations. Because his heart was tied to the mortal world, he exhausted his strength; despite his heavenly talent, he stopped at the perfection of the Star-Plucking Realm, unable to advance further. He passed away early, far short of the twelve-hundred-year lifespan he should have had. Trading his own longevity for the long-term peace of a nation—Ni Tian was truly a patriarch of great benevolence and kindness.
The microclimate of the Wujing Sect also became warmer and more suitable because the Tianshan Mountains blocked the fierce northern winds. While April brought blossoms to the rest of the world, the Tianshan flowers bloomed in May. Pink peach blossoms and white snow decorated the monotonous and bitter white of the northern border. Thus, the peach blossom became the sect emblem of the Wujing Sect. I thought to myself that Ni Tian was exactly like a peach blossom—honest, bright, and someone who warmed this cold, indifferent world.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 闹蛾儿 | Fluttering Moth | A traditional festive hair ornament, often moth or butterfly shaped. |
| 荣宝斋 | Rongbao Zhai | A high-end shop for arts and crafts. |
| 大有商会 | Dayou Merchant Guild | A wealthy merchant organization. |
| 鳌山 | Ao Mountain | A massive decorative structure made of lanterns. |
| 幻域 | Phantom Domain | A high-level illusionary technique/space. |
| 冯杳 | Feng Yao | The Ninth Junior Sister of the sect. |
| 吕鸿桢 | Lu Hongzhen | Head of the Lingxian Pavilion in the Wujing Sect. |
| 灵宪阁 | Lingxian Pavilion | The scripture library/repository of the Wujing Sect. |
| 换宪 | Huanxian | "Scripture Exchange," a prestigious exchange of techniques. |
| 天倪 | Tianni | The supreme scripture of the Wujing Sect. |
| 燕州 | Yanzhou | A northern province. |
| 燕山 | Yan Mountains | A major mountain range. |
| 贺罗山 | Heluo Mountains | A formidable mountain range in the north. |
| 图泰山 | Tutai Mountains | A mountain range near the Wujing Sect. |
| 矢鹰国 | Shiying | A neighboring nation/enemy of Jing. |
| 天山 | Tianshan | The man-made mountain range protecting the border. |
| 摘星境 | Star-Plucking Realm | A high level of cultivation. |
