Chapter 12: My Days as a Princess’s Study Companion in the Immortal Sect

Xiang Tiange offered a warm smile and nodded, gesturing for Xiao Yifeng to take a seat at the table.

He began with the basics: how to meditate, how to sense Qi, and how to guide that energy into the body. Next came a broad overview of the human meridian system and the essential principles of technique circulation. Finally, he imparted the cultivation methods for the first three volumes of the Nine Scrolls of Asking Heaven.

Xiao Yifeng already understood these concepts perfectly. In fact, his mastery of the initial scrolls likely surpassed Xiang Tiange’s own. Yet, how could he brush aside his Senior Brother’s deep affection and earnest effort?

He sat straight, listening with the utmost seriousness.

Xiang Tiange, it turned out, loved to teach. Seeing Xiao Yifeng resting his chin in his hand, eyes wide with apparent fascination, Xiang Tiange’s enthusiasm ignited. He began to wax poetic, speaking eloquently and at length.

He covered everything from the hierarchy of cultivation realms to the internal politics of the sect, even detailing the specific cultivation levels of various disciples.

Xiao Yifeng occasionally interjected with a well-timed question, which only served to fuel Xiang Tiange’s desire to speak. Eventually, the lecture drifted entirely off course, descending into a deep dive of sect gossip and hearsay.

Xiao Yifeng listened, dumbfounded. It felt as if he were meeting his Senior Brother for the first time.

So, he thought, eyeing the man’s hulking frame, beneath that iron-tower exterior beats the heart of a village gossip…

The 2-hour lesson flew by. As soon as Xiao Yifeng stepped out of the hall, a maidservant guided him to another palace.

Crossing the threshold, he found himself in a room plastered with yellow talisman paper. The domed ceiling above was engraved with a map of the celestial constellations, while the floor beneath his feet depicted the Eight Trigrams of the I Ching. Scattered around the room were various wooden mannequins, each inscribed with the complex networks of the extraordinary meridians.

Su Miaoqing was already there, waiting alongside an old man who looked every bit the scholarly pedant.

The Wentian Sect’s lineage was deeply rooted in Daoist tradition. Naturally, a disciple was expected to understand the movement of celestial stars and be intimately familiar with formations and talismans.

Xiao Yifeng hurried forward and bowed to the scholar. “Yifeng pays his respects to Second Senior Brother.”

The instructor was indeed Xiao Yifeng’s Second Senior Brother, Elder Lingxu.

Elder Lingxu nodded lightly. Without wasting time on pleasantries, he launched into the instruction, though he deliberately slowed his pace for the newcomer. Fortunately, Xiao Yifeng was not a complete novice; he had studied these arts before.

He wasn’t a grandmaster in this field—in his past life, he had found the subject profoundly abstruse and dry. But now, viewing it through the lens of a lifetime of experience, he found it surprisingly engaging.

From time to time, Xiao Yifeng raised questions. Elder Lingxu would pause to explain, and the atmosphere between them grew quite harmonious.

Su Miaoqing, who had been nodding off beside them, saw this and jolted herself awake. Her competitive streak flared; she refused to fall behind the new junior brother. Her sudden focus greatly surprised Elder Lingxu.

After covering the celestial stars and the Eight Trigrams, Elder Lingxu moved to practical application. He demonstrated by drawing a Giant Spirit Talisman with fluid strokes, then instructed the two disciples to copy it.

Su Miaoqing, having a solid foundation, completed it easily.

Xiao Yifeng focused his intent, his brush moving with purpose. He completed the copy in a single, uninterrupted flow—yi qi he cheng.

Elder Lingxu’s eyes widened in praise.

By the end of the session, even though Xiao Yifeng had deliberately held back to avoid seeming too monstrous, he still displayed remarkable talent. Elder Lingxu stroked his beard, thoroughly satisfied.

Another 2-hour block passed.

Dazed and mentally drained, Su Miaoqing and Xiao Yifeng trudged back to Xiang Tiange for a lesson on the Five Elements Arts.

This was Su Miaoqing’s domain. By the end of the class, her fatigue had vanished, replaced by a smug, beaming expression.

Xiao Yifeng knew the theory perfectly well, but with his dantian currently empty of spiritual power, how could he cast any spells? He had to sit and watch.

Leaving Xiang Tiange’s hall, Xiao Yifeng noticed Su Miaoqing’s pace slow to a reluctant shuffle as they approached the next palace.

It was the Practical Combat class, taught by their Fourth Senior Sister. Although the Fourth Sister was close friends with Su Miaoqing personally, she was a terror as an instructor. She did not know the meaning of the phrase “go easy.”

Su Miaoqing found these combat sessions excruciating. At the palace entrance, she hesitated, her feet glued to the floor, unwilling to cross the threshold.

Xiao Yifeng had suffered plenty under that same hand in the past. Seeing the usually haughty Su Miaoqing looking so terrified, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Su Miaoqing shot him a glare, cheeks puffing up in anger. “What are you laughing at? Just wait until you get beaten black and blue. Let’s see if you can still laugh then!”

With that, she marched inside with the grim determination of a soldier walking to their execution.

Xiao Yifeng followed closely behind.

Moments later, the sound of pained grunts and dull thuds echoed from within.

After a long, arduous 2 hours, Su Miaoqing and Xiao Yifeng staggered out, physically and mentally spent. They didn’t even speak, simply parting ways to limp back to their respective courtyards.

Back in his room, Yue’er had already prepared a steaming medicinal bath, following Lin Ziyun’s strict orders.

Xiao Yifeng felt as if every inch of his body had been tenderized with a mallet. He didn’t dare hesitate. Dismissing Yue’er, he stripped off his clothes and jumped into the tub.

Immediately, he began circulating the Nine Scrolls of Asking Heaven and the True Explanation of Stars, absorbing the medicinal efficacy with all his might.

When it came to body tempering, Demonic Path Cultivators were the true experts. This method—brutal combat followed by medicinal soaking—was the optimal way to forge a cultivator’s physique, but the process was agonizing. It was only because Wuya Hall had so few disciples, and Lin Ziyun doted on them so heavily, that the sect was willing to burn such expensive resources on them daily.

By lunchtime, the two dragged their heavy legs to the dining hall. They exchanged a glance, seeing the lingering fear in each other’s eyes.

Lin Ziyun watched them, her heart aching slightly at their exhaustion. Yet, seeing them keeping each other company and getting along so harmoniously, she felt a warm sense of relief.

After a brief rest post-meal, the afternoon curriculum began.

They proceeded to the Alchemy Room, following an external Elder hired by the hall, Daoist Kumu. There, they learned to identify various spirit herbs, mapped the extraordinary meridians, and studied the foundational theories of alchemy.

Next, they followed the brawny Fifth Senior Brother, Cheng Hong, to learn the basics of Artifact Forging.

Finally, for the last class of the day, they returned to Second Senior Brother Lingxu. This session was dedicated to history—the chronicles of the Cultivation World, the classification of Dharma Treasures, and the behavior of Spirit Beasts. It was meant to broaden their horizons.

Xiao Yifeng’s knowledge far exceeded what was being taught, yet he listened with rapt attention. He was surprised to find nuggets of information he had missed in his previous life.

Mountains of gold and silver, he mused. This wealth of knowledge was sitting right in front of me all along, and I never knew it.

Su Miaoqing, however, was less interested. In the past, Xiao Yifeng had been just as bored. But now, seeing him studying with such intensity, the old Daoist Lingxu nodded repeatedly, stroking his beard in approval.

Su Miaoqing, unwilling to lose face, forced herself to memorize the texts as well.

After a thorough lecture from Lingxu, Xiao Yifeng’s brain felt heavy. His soul was still relatively weak, and the sheer volume of information was dizzying. When they finally walked out of the palace gate, both of them wore identical, glassy-eyed expressions.

Xiao Yifeng turned to bid Su Miaoqing farewell, intending to retreat to his room.

Suddenly, Su Miaoqing perked up. She grabbed Xiao Yifeng’s arm, her beautiful eyes sparkling with mischief. A sly, fox-like grin spread across her face.

“Little Feng, I’ll take you to a good place. Come with me.”

Before he could react, she dragged him away.

Xiao Yifeng was confused. The next class had nothing to do with him; it was a private tutorial Lin Ziyun had arranged specifically for Su Miaoqing.

It was a course on the Four Arts: Zither, Chess, Calligraphy, and Painting.

Lin Ziyun, hailing from the prestigious Luoshu Mansion, was a master of these refined arts. She insisted on cultivating her daughter’s elegance, etiquette, and artistic sensibilities.

But Su Miaoqing had no intention of suffering alone while Xiao Yifeng escaped.

She pulled him into a lakeside pavilion. Inside, Lin Ziyun, dressed in elegant palace attire, sat in the center of the lake structure, her fingers dancing over a zither. The faint, melancholic notes drifted over the water, bringing a sense of tranquility to the soul.

Seeing Su Miaoqing rushing in with Xiao Yifeng in tow, Lin Ziyun looked up, puzzled.

“Mother, Little Feng said he’s also very interested in these arts,” Su Miaoqing lied smoothly. “So I brought him along to learn together.”

Lin Ziyun raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Yifeng, is that really true?”

Xiao Yifeng felt Su Miaoqing’s gaze boring into the side of his head. He saw her small fist clench threateningly in his peripheral vision.

“Yes, Master’s Wife,” he said, bracing himself. Caught off guard and dragged here by force, he didn’t dare offend the little witch now.

Lin Ziyun was an extremely intelligent woman; moreover, a mother knows her daughter best. She saw through the charade instantly. However, she reasoned that learning more culture wouldn’t hurt Xiao Yifeng, and it would give Qing’er a study companion. Besides, Xiao Yifeng didn’t seem to object too strenuously.

Furthermore, she had always harbored a certain regret in her heart regarding the lack of cultural education in the hall. Now, looking at the two children standing together, she felt a moment of wistful happiness.

She smiled and nodded, instructing the maidservant outside to set up an extra desk and chair.

Su Miaoqing blinked triumphantly at Xiao Yifeng.

Lin Ziyun instructed them to sit and began teaching the art of the zither. Su Miaoqing had expected to watch Xiao Yifeng make a fool of himself with clumsy fingers.

Unexpectedly, Xiao Yifeng learned with perfect form and poise.

Su Miaoqing felt a pang of frustration. This guy… is there anything he can’t learn?

Lin Ziyun was equally impressed by Xiao Yifeng’s aptitude. Seeing Su Miaoqing actually concentrating instead of slacking off as usual, her smile widened. Her fondness for this new disciple grew another measure.

Only Xiao Yifeng knew the truth of his “talent.”

His skills in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting had been drilled into him by Liu Hanyan in the future. He had been forced to study under her cold gaze for years to achieve even this mediocre level of ability.

But seeing the happy expressions on his Master’s Wife and Senior Sister, he pushed down his fatigue and focused entirely on the lesson.

In my previous life, I owed Master and Master’s Wife too much, he thought. If learning these arts can make them even a little happier, I would brave ten thousand deaths without complaint.

After the arts session concluded, free time finally arrived.

Xiao Yifeng dragged his exhausted body back to his room. Although his spirit was willing—even relishing the opportunity—his physical body was screaming in protest.

In his previous life, he had never received such treatment. As a low-ranking miscellaneous duty disciple, he had struggled in the mud for years just to survive. The resources and attention he received now as a True Disciple were things he had once only dreamed of.

Returning to his courtyard, Little Yue looked at him with envy.

Maidservants like her would never enjoy the cultivation resources or the systematic education that Xiao Yifeng was currently drowning in. Xiao Yifeng understood the rarity of this privilege better than anyone.

Ordinary sects did not have the comprehensive system of the Wentian Sect, which integrated cultivation, talismans, literature, and history into a perfect curriculum. Moreover, Wuya Hall, though currently in decline, had once been a main hall and possessed the inheritance of the Valley of Ten Thousand Flowers.

Xiao Yifeng instructed Little Yue to wake him at dinner time, then dragged his aching legs upstairs to cultivate.