Chapter 23

Xie Chang’an opened her eyes.

She lowered her head to look at her fair, delicate hands, feeling the abundant spiritual energy coursing through the veins of her hands, then flowing throughout her limbs and bones. Even her feet, firmly planted on the ground, were filled with that same energy, yet untouched by any dust.

Rising, Xie Chang’an stepped outside and pushed open the door.

Familiar faces, long waiting there, broke into delighted smiles and cupped their hands in greeting. “Congratulations on stabilizing your Sword Immortal Realm as the Foremost Seat and emerging successfully from seclusion!”

Foremost Seat.

Of course, she was the Foremost Seat of Mount Chongming—Xie Chang’an.

It had already been ten years since she entered seclusion to cultivate after ascending to the Sword Immortal Realm.

And it had been twenty years since she took up the Foremost Seat of Mount Chongming.

The memory came naturally. Xie Chang’an nodded and addressed Pei San, “Thank you for your hard work. How is the vegetable garden? Is everything on the mountain well?”

First asking about the vegetable garden, then about Mount Chishuang—it seemed, in this Foremost Seat’s eyes, the vegetable garden mattered more than the sect itself.

Yet Pei San was unfazed and simply smiled, “Everything is fine, everything is fine. The lychee trees you planted have already been harvested several times. The cabbages grow a bit slower but are also doing well. Senior Brother Zhang often comes by to help irrigate with spiritual energy and ends up taking quite a few with him each time.”

Pei San, once a young herbal apprentice, was now the steward of Mount Chongming. Unable to cultivate longevity, he trained only in rudimentary skills. The once naive youth had, over time, gained worldly experience, and his speech had grown somewhat long-winded.

Upon mentioning the cabbages, a name instinctively surfaced in Xie Chang’an’s mind.

“Any news of our Master’s whereabouts?”

Pei San was momentarily stunned, then shook his head somberly. “None yet.”

He paused, then reverted to an old form of address, “Senior Sister Xie, Master Zhu is a prodigy with profound cultivation. Perhaps he merely encountered some unforeseen circumstances and is temporarily trapped. After all, his name still appears on the Immortal Registry, does it not?”

Xie Chang’an’s mind faltered. “How many years has it been?”

Pei San answered, “Over fifty years now.”

Time seemed to have stretched endlessly. Her memories remained stuck within the past ten years of seclusion, hazy as if behind a sheer curtain. Pei San’s words gradually brought them into sharper focus.

Fifty years ago, Zhu Xuanguang, the Foremost Seat of Mount Chongming on Mount Chishuang, was on the verge of tribulation ascension. Suddenly, he vanished without a trace. At first, everyone assumed he had met with misfortune or was temporarily detained. Mount Chishuang dispatched many to search, but all were in vain.

As time dragged on with no sign of him, numerous rumors arose.

Some said Zhu Xuanguang faced a formidable rival and perished; others claimed he feared failure and disgrace, secretly fleeing; still others whispered that Mount Chishuang had robbed him of his cultivation and silenced him.

All manner of wild theories abounded.

The truth was simply that Zhu Xuanguang had disappeared without sound or clue. Not only did disciples from Mount Chishuang search far and wide, but Xie Chang’an herself descended the mountain for ten years in pursuit, to no avail.

After a decade, she broke through to a new realm, returned to the sect, and took command of Mount Chongming. And so life had carried her forward.

Their conversation felt like a familiar refrain.

After Pei San spoke, he fell silent.

Xie Chang’an turned to comfort him, “With Master gone, I remain. Mount Chongming will not scatter. Rest assured.”

Pei San brightened at her words and changed the subject with a smile, “Speaking of which, Master Zhu once left behind a piece of Snow-white Sharkskin silk, originally meant for me to tailor into a garment as your birthday gift. But with so many upheavals, it was never used. Recently, I reckoned that your seclusion would soon end, so I had the garment made. It arrived just in time today. Shall I have it sent to you?”

Xie Chang’an nodded, “I received a message from Mount Tianyi upon emerging. Prepare it; I will bathe and change before coming over.”

Ten years ago, the newly appointed Abbot of Mount Chishuang had waited anxiously for Xie Chang’an’s return. Restless, he stepped to the door, hands behind his back, gazing out.

After two incense sticks’ worth of time, he saw her figure riding a sword through the air and let out a sigh of relief.

“Senior Sister Xie, your cultivation has advanced again. Congratulations!”

Shen Xi remained taciturn as ever. Seeing her realm stabilized and her complexion rosy, he eagerly handed her a bamboo leaf.

“What’s this—”

Xie Chang’an was puzzled. Shen Xi’s urgent summons surely wasn’t merely to congratulate her on emerging from seclusion. When she glimpsed the writing on the bamboo leaf, her words caught in her throat, her expression shifting to one of surprise and doubt.

“The news is accurate?”

Shen Xi nodded. “It just arrived from Mount Fuguang. I heard you emerged, so I hurried here without pause.”

On the eve of Xie Chang’an’s emergence, the once-in-a-decade Hundred Battles Mountain-Pushing Conference was being held on Mount Fuguang. Mount Chishuang had sent some disciples to participate.

This matter was unrelated to Xie Chang’an; her cultivation level far exceeded the need to make a name through this event. Yet something had gone wrong at the conference.

The team leader, Cao Sui, Foremost Seat of Mount Zhaoxue, had gone missing without trace. Everyone searched in vain.

Two days before his disappearance, Cao Sui told Yu Chunshan, a companion, that he had seen someone on Mount Fuguang resembling the long-missing Zhu Xuanguang.

Meanwhile, many others had fallen ill or died for unknown reasons over the past few days.

“There are three matters mentioned here,” Xie Chang’an said.

“Yes.” With another to share the burden, Shen Xi’s expression did not improve. “There’s one more thing. Last night, at midnight, a disciple attending the conference had his life lamp extinguished.”

Xie Chang’an gasped, “Who?”

Shen Xi named the disciple.

The name was unfamiliar; she had never dealt with him but knew he was a disciple from Mount Zhaoxue, recently accepted by Cao Sui.

“Though Senior Brother Cao’s lamp hasn’t gone out, it’s flickering on the verge of extinction.”

Shen Xi’s voice deepened.

“Mount Fuguang must be in turmoil. Senior Sister Xie, you will have to go in person!”

The Hundred Battles Mountain-Pushing Conference, held once every ten years, was a grand event coveted by cultivators across the realm.

Great sects took turns hosting it; the top ten winners received precious magical treasures from the host and could achieve fame and status through victory. Not only wandering cultivators and minor sect disciples sought this chance, but even mighty sects like Mount Chishuang and Mount Fuguang yearned to prove themselves here.

If someone intended to cause trouble at such an event, the impact would be devastating.

Xie Chang’an had inherited Zhu Xuanguang’s legacy. Though not yet titled the number one in the world, her entrance to the Sword Immortal Realm within fifty years ensured a place on the Immortal Registry. Within Mount Chishuang, her position was pivotal. Shen Xi, tasked with managing the sect, could not leave; this mission would require her personal involvement.

Even without Shen Xi’s urging, Xie Chang’an would have volunteered.

Hearing this, she did not hesitate and nodded.

“I will set out immediately.”

From Mount Chishuang to Mount Fuguang, there were teleportation arrays and she could fly by sword. But near Yanmen, not far from Mount Fuguang, she ceased using any immortal methods, instead traveling by horse like an ordinary person.

If Mount Fuguang was truly troubled, there would be traces nearby. She planned to spend half a day investigating. Using Mount Fuguang’s teleportation array risked detection and alerting any enemies.

Yanmen Fortress was bustling and prosperous, teeming with merchants and travelers.

Upon entering the city, many eyes turned to her.

A maiden with features as picturesque as a painting, obviously of noble birth. Her shimmering Snow-white Sharkskin silk attire gleamed with starlight, dazzling under the sun.

More strikingly, this seemingly delicate and precious girl was alone, without any attendants.

For a moment, countless gazes fell upon her—some benevolent, others sinister, their intentions unclear.

The girl appeared oblivious, strolling leisurely and occasionally glancing at trinkets on roadside stalls, a playful smile hinting at her unfamiliarity with the world. It was clear she was a high-born lady, likely runaway.

Xie Chang’an had done this deliberately.

Her Snow-white Sharkskin silk not only attracted the covetous eyes of mortals but also caught the attention of cultivators.

A willing bait.

From the southern to the northern city gate—a journey normally taking an hour—she took two hours. By the time she left the city, a few suspicious figures had quietly followed.

Among them were petty thieves and bandits, some intent on worse deeds, yet none posed a serious threat.

Xie Chang’an briefly scanned with her divine sense and, finding no targets of interest, frowned slightly in disappointment.

Was her bait too obvious?

She disposed of the petty villains in the forest and was about to leave when a faint cry for help reached her.

The voice was broken and terrified, as if encountering something dreadful.

Following the sound, she saw a fierce tiger chasing a scholar. The scholar, panicked, scrambled up a tree. The tiger clawed the trunk and leapt upward, poised to pounce and seize the scholar.

This was no ordinary tiger.

Xie Chang’an’s heart stirred. The beast seemed to sense her aura and abruptly turned to stare at her.

Its eyes glowed red, a sinister evil rolling beneath the surface, hungry for blood and soul.

Seeing Xie Chang’an, it abandoned the scholar and lunged toward her instead.

Naturally, a cultivator was a more nourishing prey than a mere mortal.

Xie Chang’an took two steps back but did not draw her sword. Instead, she pressed her middle and index fingers together and traced a slash through the air. The tiger opened its mouth and swallowed the sword energy, undeterred in its furious charge, pressing down like a mountain crushing the sea.

This was no ordinary tiger tainted by demonic energy; it had likely become a demon beast with cultivation!

Her eyes sharpened. At last, she summoned the Liutian Sword.

Kneeling, she slid forward. The sword light flashed like lightning, cleaving the airborne tiger in two!

A shower of blood fell like rain, but her protective aura shielded her clothing from a single stain.

“Young lady, you are truly brave. Thank you for saving my life!” the scholar’s trembling voice came from the tree.

Xie Chang’an glanced sideways. The tree was not tall, but the man had climbed to the very crown in his life-or-death moment, now forcing a shaky smile.

“Could you kindly help me down, young lady? I seem... I seem unable to get down myself!”

“Jump. I’ll catch you.”

Her voice was light and airy, utterly incongruous with the fierce sword strike moments before—soft and soothing as flowers swaying in a spring breeze.

The scholar hesitated greatly, but Xie Chang’an’s patience wore thin.

“If you don’t jump, I’m leaving. You can come down on your own.”

“No, no, no!” The scholar gritted his teeth and leapt with eyes closed.

Of course, Xie Chang’an did not catch him with her hands but sent forth a gust of powerful wind with a finger snap, cushioning his fall just as he touched down.

He gasped in pain but, ignoring it, hurriedly bowed in thanks.

“Thank you, thank you. If not for you today, I would have perished here!”

As he bowed, his face unexpectedly came into Xie Chang’an’s sight.

Her casual gaze froze instantly; she could not conceal the flicker of shock that crossed her features.