The Next Day
Knowing he had to go out and meet people today, Xue Cuo got up two hours early, leapt into the lake for a bath, and frightened the fish so badly they bolted ashore in panic.
Snow Sword floated lazily across the lake. Once Xue Cuo had more or less finished scrubbing himself, the green-black hand lifted him disdainfully between two fingers and flew him straight into the hut.
He changed into a fresh blue-and-white disciple robe, looking full of spirit… with the exception of his hair, which had come undone and now draped, wet and unruly, down his back.
Xue Cuo looked at his reflection in Mirror Lake, distressed. “Sword Uncle, help me trim it?”
Snow Sword: “……”
A large green-black hand and another pine-needle green hand grabbed Xue Cuo’s cheeks and tugged them wide apart without mercy.
After disciplining the child…
The big hand, holding a red hair ribbon, fell into a pensive silence. After a long moment of contemplation and rummaging through its memory, it tied Xue Cuo’s hair into two flower bud buns.
Xue Cuo lay on his belly by the lakeside, cupping his cheeks. “Sword Uncle, I’m just so cute.”
Snow Sword hovered still for a beat—then smacked the boy’s backside with a sharp slap.
……
Roughly an hour later, the barrier to the Immortal Forest lifted. Two blue-robed disciples of striking bearing and handsome countenance stepped inside.
One had a pale complexion, long brows, and cool, sharp eyes, an ancient sword slung across his back. The other bore a warm smile and a pair of peach blossom eyes.
“Little shixiong~”
“Shixiong.”
Rumour had it that Elder Xue and the Fearless Immortal’s child lived deep within the Immortal Forest, but no one had ever seen him.
The disciple with the ancient sword glanced around, then suddenly called, “Careful!”
He sprang lightly over Mirror Lake, caught the child tumbling from a tree, and spun down to land gently on the ground.
“Youyu, hurry and let me have a look what our shixiong looks like!”
The sword-bearing disciple carefully set Xue Cuo down. His brows furrowed as he looked up. “Youxia-shidi, show some respect.”
Youxia laughed sheepishly. “Alright, alright, I was being rude. Lin Youxia, disciple of Tianyi Sect, greets Xue-shixiong.”
“Xu Youyu, disciple of Shujian Pavilion, Tianyi Sect, greets Xue-shixiong.”
Youxia? Youyu?
Xue Cuo was completely confused. He brushed off the pine needles tangled in his hair and glanced left and right. He’d never seen either of them before and didn’t recognise them.
Xu Youyu crouched down. Their “shixiong” was absurdly young. Who knew how long ago he’d been born, yet now he looked only five or six.
Xu Youyu asked, “Shixiong, why were you climbing a tree? Did you need to get something?”
Xue Cuo went quiet for a moment, then solemnly handed over a small twig. “A meeting gift.”
Youxia popped his head out from behind Xu Youyu. “A tree branch is your meeting gift? Hold on—I don’t get one?!”
Xu Youyu glanced at him and tucked the twig carefully into his robes. “Elder Xue asked us to escort Shixiong to Wanhua Pavilion. Is Shixiong ready?”
Xue Cuo had been about to nod, but nerves got the better of him. He reached for the little wooden sword on his back, then tugged gently at Xu Youyu’s sleeve. “Uh, Youyu-shidi, it’s my first time leaving through the main gate. Will there be a lot of people?”
Youxia had just opened his mouth to tease him, but Xu Youyu shot him a look, and he instantly shut up.
Xu Youyu answered, “Immortals and elders from every major sect in the Eastern Divine Land have all gathered at Wanhua Pavilion today.”
Xue Cuo was dumbstruck.
“But don’t worry,” Xu Youyu added. “You’ll be sitting with us disciples of Tianyi Sect.”
Youxia crossed his arms and leaned in. “If Shixiong shy, you can sit with me too.”
Xue Cuo looked him up and down, then quietly stepped behind Xu Youyu.
Youxia: That wasn’t necessary, was it?
Time was pressing. Xu Youyu didn’t waste breath on pleasantries. Once he’d confirmed there was nothing else to pack, he took Xue Cuo and Youxia, and the three set off on their swords toward Wanhua Pavilion.
After flying out of Liuming Peak, Xue Cuo noticed more celestial clouds and palaces than usual overhead. A grand palace floated at the centre, veiled in rainbow mist, graceful immortal silhouettes dancing within. Sword lights crisscrossed the skies, cultivators passed in droves, and spiritual consciousness blanketed the area more densely than anywhere else.
Compared to this enormous entity, Xue Cuo and his two shidi were as small as sesame seeds.
Xue Cuo couldn’t resist asking, “Xu-shidi, how do I look today?”
Xu Youyu leaned down to study him properly. “Shixiong is dignified and outstanding in appearance.”
Xue Cuo let out a relieved breath, then tugged at Youyu-shidi’s sleeve again. “Xu-shidi, why are we going to Wanhua Pavilion? Mom didn’t tell me anything.”
Xu Youyu explained, “Each year in early summer, the immortal sects recruit new disciples. This year, the selection assembly is being held under the leadership of Qingcang Zhenren, with all major sects of Eastern Divine Land participating.”
Xue Cuo’s breath hitched. “It’s like this… Shidi, it’s the first time my mom let me out, and there are so many people. I won’t embarrass my mother, will I?”
Xu Youyu replied calmly, “Of course not. Elder Xue has always held you in deep regard.”
Xue Cuo rubbed his backside, his expression a little conflicted. She certainly hit him with enough sincerity.
The three of them flew on, but their path grew increasingly off-course. Xue Cuo couldn’t help asking, “Is this Wanhua Pavilion?”
Xu Youyu considered it for a moment, then said solemnly, “Doesn’t seem like it.”
Xue Cuo inhaled sharply through his teeth.
They took to the skies again, flying for another quarter of an hour and passing through the outer gate, and then the “great outer gate”. Youxia couldn’t help but say, “Shixiong, I think it’s this way.”
Xu Youyu blushed slightly, opened a map and examined it for a while, then offered a temperate explanation. “I remember now. This way’s closer.”
They ended up circling back to Liuming Peak and setting off once more. After four hours of detours, the trio finally arrived at a mountain veiled in cloud and radiant mist.
Xue Cuo and Youxia both let out a breath of relief, as if a great burden had lifted from their shoulders.
This mountain sat precisely at the core of Tianyi Sect’s protective formation. The peak was verdant and dripping with life, encircled by crystalline waters. On either side of the streambanks, wildflowers bloomed in abundance. Among Tianyi Sect’s many scenic marvels, this was the fairest of them all.
An extremely long staircase of white jade wound up the mountain. On either side, immortals, cultivators, and disciples had already taken their seats. There were at least a thousand present, yet not a single one was making a fuss. All were quietly admiring the splendour of Wanhua Pavilion.
Xu Youyu came to a halt, alighting on the white jade steps. Just before stepping into the pavilion, he felt a tug at his sleeve.
Looking down, he found his much smaller—but far more senior—shixiong reaching up to him and whispering nervously, “Shidi, could you hold my hand?”
Xu Youyu replied, “Alright.”
Wanhua Pavilion.
Petals drifted like snow.
As Xue Cuo stepped onto the bluestone, it rang out with a crisp duoh sound. He lifted his robes and ascended, step by step. Xu Youyu held his hand, always lagging just a little behind.
To onlookers, it looked as though Xue Cuo was the one leading Xu Youyu.
Cultivators lined the forest path on either side. Some turned to watch; others didn’t. Some admired the falling blossoms, while others played zither and sipped wine.
At the head of the staircase sat the venerable Qingcang Zhenren, crowned with purple-gold and white jade. Beside him were the aloof lady with the silver snake, the eminent abbot from Lingguang Temple, and several cultivators with proud faces and no clear sect lineage.
The Sword Immortal Jun Wuwei reclined beneath a flowering tree, seemingly immersed in enlightenment. Master of the Dragon Might Sword, Xue Zhenzhen, by contrast, sat upright in full formality, head turned as she conversed with Qingcang Zhenren.
Xue Cuo had scarcely left the Immortal Forest since birth. He walked with utmost caution, yet his palms still broke into a sweat. With only twenty-one steps remaining, Xu Youyu crouched and helped tidy his robes. He said: “Little shixiong, this is as far as I can accompany you.”
Xue Cuo cupped his fists, then lifted his robes and continued the climb alone. Xu Youyu stepped down, and behind him, he heard a clear little voice: “Thank you, Shidi-gege*.”
(*TN: Some of you are probably wondering why Youyu and Youxia address Xue Cuo as xiao-shixiong despite his age and cultivation level. This is an instance where he is referred to as a senior because his parents are likely of high rank in the sect.)
Turning to look, he saw his shixiong’s tiny figure, half-hidden behind drooping flower branches.
Xue Cuo stepped forward and bowed to his mother, father, fellow cultivators, and the unfamiliar elder presiding above. The Sword Immortal stared absently at the blossoms, yet a faint furrow clouded his brow.
Xue Zhenzhen said nothing. She gave a faint nod and gestured to a grass mat to the right. Xue Cuo bowed again and took his seat.
The old man seated at the centre, wearing the purple-gold crown, stroked his beard with a genial smile. “Fellow Daoists, here where wine flows and melodies linger, I raise this cup in honour of a thousand blooming flowers. And in the hopes of drawing the finest talent across the Eastern Lands.”
Smiles swept the gathering. “Indeed.”
Xue Cuo, a beat behind, clumsily offered a hand salute out of step with the rest. Xue Zhenzhen’s expression darkened slightly.
He promptly sat up straight and dared not move again.
After the old man’s toast, cultivators ran down the Cloud Steps, passing the message down in sequence. The blossom trees that had once obscured the view now naturally shifted upwards, revealing the scene below. Some cultivators floated to perch atop the trees, watching intently from above.
Xue Cuo hadn’t gotten a tree seat. Seeing his mother deep in conversation, he quietly shuffled closer to the edge to peer down the Cloud Steps.
Wanhua Pavilion stood atop the peak, where spiritual energy surged and all flowers bloomed in full glory—a marvel to behold.
The mid-mountains had weaker qi. Only a few scattered blossom trees grew there, but they were tall and flourishing, and with petals drifting down from above, this slope still qualified as picturesque.
Lower still, no flowers remained. Only thorn thickets, mud and stone, and rotting leaves. The insects and birds that dwelled below rarely flew higher. They nestled quietly in the underbrush, singing to themselves in peace.
Suddenly, the clouds parted. A breathtaking view unfolded. The entire mountaintop ablaze with blooming flowers. Birds and butterflies rose, drawn by the scent.
Xue Cuo spotted people among the broken rocks at the foot of the mountain. Some wore fine clothes, no doubt from great worldly families. Others were ragged and haggard, skin yellow and bodies thin, looking more like beggars than cultivators. Clearly, they came from vastly different walks of life.
All had been carefully selected from the mortal world. Now, having glimpsed the peak, they rushed upwards with desperate fervour.
During the ascent, one man drew his sword and killed another, unwilling to fall behind. The silver snake lady, watching with idle interest, commented, “Decisive, this one.”
She lifted a sleeve and released a streak of divine light.
The mortal who received the treasure stared blankly at first, then burst into ecstatic joy—only to panic immediately after. Clutching the precious gift, he charged forward, but was ambushed by another climber and slashed down. The treasure was promptly taken.
The silver snake woman covered her mouth. “What a pity.”
The other immortals said, “No need to grieve. The lad lacked discernment, and shouldn’t be empowered. Once he had the treasure, how could anyone leave him alive?”
She hummed agreement, but Xue Zhenzhen cut in coolly, “Mortal minds are fragile. Miss Ciru, it’s best that you not bestow any more trinkets. It merely fuels further slaughter.”
The silver snake woman pouted, lazily fanning herself. “Swordmaster speaks wisely… Eh? That child over there…”
All eyes turned to one spot. At the very front of the climb was a boy, eleven or twelve years old, far ahead of the rest by several metres. A short sword was strapped to his back, and his frame was light and agile. His eyes held unwavering focus, untouched by the lure of exotic flowers and rare herbs along the way. His only goal was the mountaintop.
“Gu Ruhui.”
The Sword Immortal slowly opened his eyes. His voice alone drew the attention of the entire gathering. Yet Jun Wuwei seemed unaware of the stir and turned to the abbot from Lingguang Temple.
“Master Huiyin, have you heard of him?”
Master Huiyin smiled and joined his palms. “Indeed. This humble monk has heard whispers. A sword talent, young and promising.”
Xue Zhenzhen interjected suddenly. “A genius, is he? And how does he compare with Xue Cuo?”
Master Huiyin cast a glance at the boy in question, He was currently using a slingshot to fire wind-control talismans at the crowd below, successfully saving a struggling mortal. He joined his palms again and merely smiled, saying nothing.
