The flying sword cleaved through the sky with a sharp whistle, the wind whipping their robes into a frenzy against their bodies. Lin Yinyin felt a surge of excitement. In the past, flying boats had always been shielded by protective barriers, insulating passengers from the elements. But this? This was riding the wind in the truest sense.

Overjoyed, she hugged Zhang Xian’s arm even tighter.

“Junior Sister, don’t be afraid! Just channel spiritual energy into your soles to stabilize your stance!” Zhenhai’s voice barely carried over the howling gale.

Seeing their intimate posture, a sour taste flooded Zhenhai’s mouth. Why? Just because he has some stinking money?

To think such a beautiful Junior Sister is already taken. But I don’t mind. I can take over. Zhenhai gazed at Lin Yinyin’s back, lost in his own fantasies.

Unfortunately for him, Lin Yinyin feigned deafness against the roaring wind, burrowing even deeper into Zhang Xian’s embrace. She peeked ahead at Li Fuxi; the onrushing gale pressed the older woman’s robes tight against her frame, accentuating curves that were nothing short of breathtaking.

Lin Yinyin looked down at herself, bitterness rising in her throat. What sort of “truth” was this? Those were clearly two insurmountable mountains!

Noticing Lin Yinyin’s lack of decorum, Li Fuxi raised a hand, casting a wind-blocking spell to silence the gale. She spoke coldly, “On my Spirit Sword Peak, behave with propriety!”

Lin Yinyin could only straighten her posture, her face flushed with shame.

Less than half an hour later, the flying sword dove vertically, piercing the swirling sea of clouds. The true scenery of Spirit Sword Peak gradually came into view.

Lin Yinyin’s eyes went wide. Instead of grandeur, she saw only a few dozen crude thatched huts scattered across the mountain ridge. The wind rustled through the dry straw, the sights and sounds identical to a common mortal village.

Were the immortal pavilions and jade towers we saw yesterday all illusions?

Is the Yunmiao Sect actually a scam ring?

“This… this is Spirit Sword Peak?” Zhang Xian was equally stunned. The living quarters here bore a striking resemblance to the small mountain village he had inhabited a hundred years ago.

“Does cultivation require opulence? Austerity fosters focus!” Li Fuxi curled her lips into a cold smile as she turned toward them.

“From this day forth, you two are nominal disciples of my Spirit Sword Peak. Remember, I am your master, Li Fuxi.”

As she spoke, she conjured two jade tokens that flew into Zhang Xian’s and Lin Yinyin’s hands, respectively. The tokens were engraved with the character “Xi.”

Seeing the familiar-looking jade token stirred up unpleasant memories for Zhang Xian.

Sword energy burst from Li Fuxi’s fingertip. She waved at the air, and two streaks of sword energy dispersed, indicating two thatched huts—one in the east and one in the west.

“You, take the east side.” She pointed her sword fingers at Zhang Xian, then turned to Lin Yinyin. “You, take the west side.”

The two huts were separated by several miles, with a mountain stream dividing them down the middle. Lin Yinyin’s eyes instantly reddened.

She is clearly trying to separate me from my brother!

“Brother…” She looked pitifully at Zhang Xian, only to find him staring up at the highest thatched hut on the peak with a faint, elusive smile on his lips.

It’s over! Brother has already been blinded by the “truth.”

Lin Yinyin began to somewhat regret coming to the Yunmiao Sect.

“Aren’t you going to pay respects to your Master?” Li Fuxi spoke again.

“Do we have to kneel?” Zhang Xian asked. He had never knelt before anyone in his life; he felt an innate resistance to kowtowing.

Li Fuxi snorted. “Immortal cultivation sects do not bother with such empty mortal formalities. A disciple’s bow is sufficient.”

“Greetings, Master,” Zhang Xian said, bowing respectfully.

“Greetings, Master,” Lin Yinyin followed suit.

“Hmm.” Li Fuxi seemed somewhat satisfied. She materialized two cultivation manuals and continued, “This is the first level of our sect’s supreme technique, the Nine Turns Jade Condensation Sutra. Study it repeatedly. If there is anything you don’t understand, you can ask me after the evening lecture each day.”

“You don’t need to attend today’s evening lecture. Go settle in and rest. Later, a disciple will give you a detailed introduction to Spirit Sword Peak’s rules. Remember not to be late for tomorrow’s morning session!”

With that, Li Fuxi tapped her toes against the ground and soared toward the mountain peak.

“Brother…” Lin Yinyin pouted.

Zhang Xian smiled and patted her shoulder. “Be good. Let’s get settled first.”

After saying this, he walked toward the small thatched hut in the east.

Lin Yinyin stomped her foot in anger but had no choice but to head west.

Following behind her was an eager Zhenhai. “Junior Sister, let me escort you. I’ll explain our peak’s rules to you along the way.”

Zhang Xian approached his allocated hut and pushed open the creaking bamboo door.

The interior was spartan. The hut contained only a rough wooden bed with a set of blue-and-white disciple robes neatly folded beside it. On the floor lay a plain meditation mat, along with a weathered table and a simple stool.

Zhang Xian wandered around the hut for a moment. In front of it was a small platform with a stone table and several stone stools—a place designed for daily meditation and breathing exercises.

To his surprise, behind the hut lay a living spring. Clear water gurgled from cracks in the rocks, forming a small pool enclosed by bluestone that steamed with faint spiritual energy.

Zhang Xian lightly touched the stone wall at the edge of the spring, finding many grooves carved into it. The edges of these grooves bore inscriptions; presumably, embedding spirit stones here could enhance the spring’s power.

He returned inside the thatched hut. Through the open doors and windows, he occasionally saw spiritual birds flitting past. Feeling the abundant spiritual energy permeating heaven and earth, his thoughts gradually drifted far away.

“Brother Shan, are we going hunting today?”

A voice seemed to echo in his ears—the voice of the Little Black Girl—crossing a hundred years of time.

Just as he was lost in thought, hurried footsteps approached from outside. Lin Yinyin appeared at the doorway; she had already changed into the Yunmiao Sect’s standard blue-and-white disciple robes.

The elegant fabric clung to her frame, outlining her graceful curves. The silk belt cinching her waist emphasized her slender, delicate figure—looking as if one could span it with a single hand. A wooden hairpin swayed gently in her hair as she moved, making her small face appear even more charmingly lovely.

“Brother,” Lin Yinyin said sweetly as she sat down beside Zhang Xian. “That big-chested woman is too hateful; she wants to separate us.”

Zhang Xian smiled slightly. “Now she is our Master; we must respect our elder.”

“Respect?” she retorted playfully, leaning in conspiratorially. “Tell me honestly—did you have your eye on ‘our elder’ from the start?”

“How could that be!”

“I saw you sneaking glances at Master several times!”

“I just thought she looked somewhat familiar.”

“Hmph! Stop pretending to be such an upright gentleman—that’s exactly how you tricked me back then!” Then, suddenly changing her tone and leaning in close enough to whisper: “By the way… Brother… there’s actually another spiritual spring behind this mountain… I want us both—”

“Ahem.” Zhang Xian coughed twice, interrupting her. “Someone’s coming.”

They straightened up just as a female cultivator appeared at the doorframe. She wore a high ponytail, and while her features weren’t stunningly beautiful, she carried a certain heroic air.

“Hope I’m not disturbing Junior Brother and Sister?” she asked clearly.

“No!”

“No!”

They answered simultaneously. The female cultivator stepped inside boldly, sitting down on the only available stool while giving them a knowing look. “Tsk tsk… exactly like Senior Brother said—one great beauty alongside one guy… Junior Brother must be quite wealthy then?”

“What makes you say so?” Zhang Xian asked, puzzled.

“Well, it can’t possibly be because you’re good in bed,” she replied bluntly, causing a shock to go through the room before she quickly added, “Just joking!”

She clasped her hands together formally. “Let me introduce myself—I am Chen Tiexin; you may also call me Fourth Senior Sister. Today I’ll be giving you the rundown on the basics of our Spirit Sword Peak.”

The two imitated the gesture, returning the courtesy with a slight bow.

“Welcome to the poorest peak within the entire sect!”