Chapter 11: Journey to Canglang

A bright longevity lantern drifted upward, carried by the breeze into the night sky.

Xu Qingru watched the lantern, her expression tinged with a hint of daze.

Every New Year's Eve in years past, she and her father would coax her into releasing a longevity lantern to see Huai Sheng off. Tonight would be the last time she released a lantern for Huai Sheng.

She gazed as the lantern floated farther and farther away, softly whispering, “The longevity lantern is set afloat; may our Huai Sheng be safe year after year, and may blessings follow through all seasons.”

She stared blankly, unsure how much time had passed, when suddenly a piercing scream came from behind.

It was Huai Sheng!

Xu Qingru trembled involuntarily, turning toward the tightly shut door behind her. She hurried over, pressing her hand gently against the door, holding her breath to listen.

Inside, the cry of pain soon subsided, fading so quickly it felt like an illusion.

But Xu Qingru knew—it was Huai Sheng who was in pain.

Time slowed unbearably, as if burning oil in a lamp, each moment stretching taut with anxious dread. When all the longevity lanterns had vanished from the sky, a faint light finally flickered from the alchemy chamber.

“Junior Sister Xu, come in,” came Ying Shan’s weary voice.

Xu Qingru’s hands were ice-cold; at the sound, her fingers stiffened, then she pushed with effort and stepped inside. She stumbled slightly over the threshold, but a gentle spring breeze steadied her as she lifted her eyes into the tender gaze of Nan Xinjiu.

The man sat quietly a few paces away on the couch, waiting for her.

Xu Qingru’s eyes reddened the instant she saw Nan Xinjiu’s bloodstained Dao robe.

The few steps to him were agonizingly difficult.

With each step, her once-straight bamboo-like back bowed a little more, and her raven hair paled further. By the time she finally sat beside Nan Xinjiu, taking Huai Sheng’s hand with him, she looked like an old crone, cloaked in the dusk of life.

The shared life curse was broken.

The vitality they had clung to for four years was finally slipping away.

Nan Xinjiu’s face was deeply lined and silvered with age, yet the faint joy in his eyes reminded Xu Qingru of the reckless, spirited youth he had once been—a young man famed throughout the Central Plains.

It was early spring, in Danshui Town where the Xu family had lived for generations, when a youth assigned by their sect had come to escort new disciples, soaring past her home on his sword.

With a casual glance back, he saw her standing beneath a jujube tree.

That night, the youth knocked on the Xu family gate, holding a roster, asking why her name was absent.

She said she wished to stay in Danshui Town to protect the Xu family.

He stood beneath the tree, watching her for a long while. As he departed, he smiled and said, “One day, I’ll make you call me ‘Senior Brother.’”

Ten years later, at twenty-five, Xu Qingru had become the new clan leader. She had not forgotten the youth who had passed her home.

What she thought was their only encounter turned out not to be so. Two days later, he came again, knocking on the Xu family gate. In the ancestral Danhua Garden, he set up protective formations, and handed over ten years’ worth of alchemical medicines, spirit stones, and magical artifacts to her.

“Once you enter Yajian Mountain, you’ll learn the most powerful sword techniques and earn the most treasures and medicines. When you reach the Golden Core stage, your very name will protect your family. Do you really not want to leave Danshui Town and explore the wider world?”

That night, her aunt hobbled out on a cane, returning the clan leader’s seal, smiling gently as she patted Xu Qingru’s head: “Qingru, we all want to see the world beyond Danshui Town, don’t we? If you want to go, just go. I’m not too old to watch over this family.”

So Xu Qingru joined Chengying Peak, becoming his direct junior sister. After reaching Golden Core, she became his Dao companion.

But that proud, ever-vigorous youth was eventually dragged down by her. In the four years since the Dan Fragment, even Nan Xinjiu’s clear smile was tinged with sorrow.

Tonight, she finally saw that youth once more.

Xu Qingru heard him laugh, “Qingru, our Huai Sheng’s spiritual aperture has opened.”

She glanced at Nan Xinjiu, then at the little girl on the couch, smiling through tears, her brows heavy with reluctant farewell.

She had thought that if only Huai Sheng could open her spiritual aperture, she would be content. But now, at the moment of death, she realized there were still so many things she had never told Huai Sheng.

In the end, she had been greedy.

She longed to call Huai Sheng’s name once more, to hear her call “Mother” again.

But death is like a lamp extinguishing.

As she parted her lips, the last flicker in her eyes instantly faded, and the word “Huai Sheng” slipped from her tongue, dissolving into a faint sigh.

—

Thirteen years later, at the foot of Qiping Mountain in Qingyang County.

“The Universe Mirror has guarded our Canglang Realm for ten thousand years. Occasional cracks are only natural. Uncles and aunts, please don’t worry—I will repair it at once.”

Nine formation stones slowly rotated in the air. Threads of spiritual energy wove like spider silk, guiding the stones forward to mend the crack in the Universe Mirror. A dazzling white light shimmered, and the fissure vanished as if by magic.

As the crack healed, applause suddenly rang out behind Huai Sheng.

“Thank you, little Daoist, for protecting Qiping Mountain again! We prepared some snacks for you—please do accept them.”

Huai Sheng wiped sweat from her brow, smiling at the mountain hunters’ dried meat, candied fruit, and sweet wine. “I gratefully accept.”

With a wave of her sleeve, the food and the two strange beasts’ carcasses on the ground vanished.

“I hear many sects are reopening their gates. Daoist, your magic is so impressive—do you plan to join a sect?”

An elderly hunter with white hair approached from behind, carrying a huge ox-hide drum.

Such drums were common among villagers, used to warn when strange beasts struck the Universe Mirror.

Huai Sheng smiled, “Of course. Once this mission ends, I will pack my bags and venture into a sect.”

“That’s good news!” The old man patted the drum heartily. “Today the Daoist killed the evil beasts; tomorrow we’ll beat the drum for you!”

“Yes!” The hunters nearby echoed loudly. “We’ll beat the drum for you when the time comes!”

Huai Sheng didn’t quite understand but nodded and smiled, “Thank you all.”

This was Huai Sheng’s third month stationed at Qiping Mountain.

This mountain range was the only place in Dan Valley adjoining the Peachwood Forest, where strange beasts sometimes cracked the Universe Mirror. The Ying family sent disciples annually to guard this spot.

Huai Sheng was to stay a few more days but was unexpectedly summoned back by a sword letter from Ying Shan.

Ying Shan was refining pills in the alchemy room. Seeing Huai Sheng return, she spoke plainly, “Yajian Mountain’s gate will open in seven days. Tomorrow, a steward disciple will come to escort you.”

Huai Sheng was momentarily taken aback; she had been so busy earning spirit stones she had forgotten the mountain’s reopening date.

She silently produced thirty spirit stones earned repairing the Universe Mirror and handed them to Ying Shan. “These are from Qiping Mountain. Please keep them for me.”

Ying Shan replied with a faint “Hmm,” then asked, “Has your head ailment flared up again these three months?”

Huai Sheng nodded. “It’s the same as before. I still dream, but upon waking, I can’t recall what I dreamed.”

Ying Shan set down her pill furnace. “Close your eyes and focus.”

Huai Sheng knew Ying Shan was performing a routine body check and obediently shut her eyes.

A cool, watery spiritual energy slowly coursed through her meridians, completing a small cycle before resting at her heart’s spiritual aperture.

There, a Golden Core with two fine cracks slowly rotated.

Ying Shan examined her for a long moment but found nothing conclusive. She drew out spiritual energy and said, “Most of the yin poison in your body has been expelled. Your atrophied meridians have recovered. Even if your head ailment cannot be fully cured, it should improve. Since there’s no sign of progress, it’s likely not caused by the yin poison.”

Her usually indifferent expression creased with a slight frown.

Huai Sheng smiled brightly. “Don’t worry, Master. I survived despite the yin poison. This little head ailment is nothing.”

Hearing this, Ying Shan no longer pressed the matter, but cautioned, “Life in the sect will be far harder. Venturing beyond will be even more perilous. Be careful. Take this mustard seed jade pendant—it contains newly refined pills from the alchemy hall.”

All Ying family disciples entering Yajian Mountain carried such pendants. Strictly speaking, Huai Sheng was not an Ying disciple, but having stayed under Ying Shan’s care these years, she was considered part of the family.

Huai Sheng accepted the pendant reverently, hanging it at her waist.

“Master, rest assured, I will be cautious once inside the sect. This life was fought for by my parents—I cherish it dearly.” She hesitated, carefully choosing her next words.

Ying Shan interrupted, “Come here, I’ll fix your hair again.”

After killing two evil beasts at Qiping Mountain today, Huai Sheng’s loosely tied hair was a tangled mess.

She glanced at Ying Shan’s simple long braid, unchanged for ten years, and silently leaned forward.

Ying Shan had beautiful hands—fluid and deft when refining pills—but clumsy when doing hair.

After countless strands were pulled, Huai Sheng weakly said, “Senior Uncle Ying, just braid my hair like yours.”

Ying Shan pursed her lips, scolding herself silently before setting down her jade hairpin. She took some ribbons, gathered half of Huai Sheng’s hair, and carefully braided a long plait, wrapping it with a sky-blue ribbon. It looked elegant enough to be bearable.

Once done, Ying Shan said calmly, “Go visit your parents’ tomb.”

Huai Sheng’s eyes lit up.

Nan Xinjiu and Xu Qingru’s coffins rested in the Ying family mausoleum—a forbidden place in Dan Valley that required many spirit stones to open.

The tragedy of her parents’ passing had been kept secret by Yajian Mountain. To prevent leaks, the mausoleum remained closed most of the year.

Ying Shan’s voluntary permission for her to enter was an unexpected joy.

She rose swiftly to leave, reminding, “Master, rest assured—I will earn many spirit stones!”

Ying Shan smiled quietly.

In these thirteen years in Dan Valley, the child had always been sensible, perhaps because she knew she was a guest dependent on others. She never complained about what she lacked or desired.

Except for visiting the mausoleum.

Even so, she had only made that request twice, driven by how deeply she missed her parents.

Elder Alchemist Ying Quan brought in a basket of freshly roasted spirit herbs, saying, “I’ve just handed the mausoleum’s key to little Huai Sheng. Tomorrow she will enter Yajian Mountain. She should bid farewell to her parents. Alas… she has only one spiritual aperture open. I wonder if there will be trouble when she joins the sect. Yajian Mountain’s rule states that only those with both apertures open may enter. What if someone blocks her?”

Ying Shan’s face remained calm. “Even with only one aperture, she will be the strongest among this batch of new disciples. No one can stop her from entering Yajian Mountain.”

The elder still looked worried. “I heard Xiao Ruoshui from the Xiao family will come this year. She opened her spiritual aperture at five and ancestral aperture at nine. Her talent surpasses her father’s. I wonder if the Xiao family’s entanglement with Huai Sheng’s father will cause trouble.”

Ying Shan said nothing, silently tending the alchemical fire.

The elder knew she never engaged with worldly matters and quietly left with the empty herb basket.

In the alchemy room, as the pill liquid slowly solidified and fragrance filled the air, a nearly imperceptible voice echoed softly in the stillness—

“No matter who comes, she remains the strongest.”