Chapter 59

Chapter 59: Big Ambitions

Hua Wu Sheng stayed angry for two days before finally sending someone to summon Bai Meng Jin.

Mirror Flower Water Moon’s four formations had been reopened—but Bai Meng Jin seemed to be exempt. When the three of them entered, Ling Bu Fei and Bai Li Xu each lost sight of the other in the fog, but Bai Meng Jin passed straight through as if the mist recognized her and parted.

She stepped into the little temple.

A female voice sounded behind her, puzzled and sharp. “You look so refined. How can you have such a bad temper?”

Bai Meng Jin turned.

The daoist nun sat in the pavilion, holding a whisk, studying Bai Meng Jin as if examining a blade. Her posture was upright, her face stern, her eyes clear.

“This disciple, Bai Meng Jin, greets Martial Uncle Ancestor Hua.”

Bai Meng Jin bowed low.

“No need.” Hua Wu Sheng pointed at the seat across from her. “Can you brew tea?”

Bai Meng Jin glanced at the tea set on the table and frowned without hiding it.

Hua Wu Sheng’s brow lifted. “What? You can’t, or you won’t?”

Bai Meng Jin answered honestly, “The day I came up the mountain, Senior Sister Qiu invited me to drink tea. To be honest… it left me with a shadow.”

Hua Wu Sheng burst into laughter.

With a sweep of her sleeve, the tea set vanished.

She called toward the temple, “Song Zi. Bring a pot of tea.”

A clear voice answered. Moments later, an attendant boy appeared and served tea.

Hua Wu Sheng watched the boy leave, then snorted. “I knew Ling Old Two can’t teach people. Qiu girl is a sect master’s disciple, and she got taught into that ghostly mess. But when the beam above is crooked, the rafters below can’t stay straight.”

The words were ruthless enough that Bai Meng Jin’s lips twitched.

She imagined Senior Sister Qiu—airborne and graceful—being called “a ghostly mess” by Hua Wu Sheng, and couldn’t help the faint smile that slipped out.

Hua Wu Sheng’s gaze snapped to it. “You find that funny?”

Bai Meng Jin lowered her head. “This disciple wouldn’t dare.”

Hua Wu Sheng clicked her tongue, then returned to the point as if she hadn’t been distracted at all. “I thought hard about your method of breaking the formation. With your cultivation style, it isn’t strange that you can do it. What’s rare is your control of devil qi. It doesn’t match your age at all.”

Bai Meng Jin’s voice stayed calm. “Thank you for the praise, Martial Uncle Ancestor.”

Hua Wu Sheng stared at her for a moment, then looked away as if mildly offended by Bai Meng Jin’s composure. “You can tell I’m probing you, right?”

Bai Meng Jin nodded.

“And you have nothing to explain?”

Bai Meng Jin said, evenly, “This disciple is gifted.”

Hua Wu Sheng went still.

Then she rubbed her forehead, as if the headache had arrived fully formed. “…”

She considered herself a difficult elder. This was the first time she’d met a junior who was somehow even more difficult than she was.

If an ordinary disciple were questioned like this, even if they had done nothing, they would still be nervous.

This kind of confidence…

It was exactly like Ling Bu Fei’s.

No wonder the two of them could talk.

Bai Meng Jin didn’t push. She lowered her head slightly, waiting.

At last, Hua Wu Sheng said, “You’re not going to soften it at all?”

Bai Meng Jin’s mouth curved, then she answered properly, giving Hua Wu Sheng what courtesy demanded. “The Limitless Sect ranks among the Upper Three Sects. The Young Sect Master’s status is noble. Whether this disciple has problems or not, the sect surely investigated many times. Since nothing was found, it shows this disciple’s background is clean. Martial Uncle Ancestor—what doubts remain?”

Hua Wu Sheng took a slow drink of tea. “Hmph.”

Then the fog at the edge of the temple churned.

Ling Bu Fei and Bai Li Xu tumbled out.

Ling Bu Fei was drenched. He spat out a mouthful of water and scowled. “I hate the Water Formation the most. Every time it leaves me soaked.”

Bai Li Xu was neatly dressed, but the careful exhale he released made it clear it hadn’t been easy.

Hua Wu Sheng flicked a finger. The moisture on Ling Bu Fei vanished instantly, leaving him dry again.

“Even if you can’t use spells,” she said coolly, “your cultivation isn’t fake. If you still can’t enter and exit calmly, it means your understanding of spiritual qi isn’t mature enough.”

Ling Bu Fei bristled. “At my age, if my understanding of Divine Transformation Stage were mature enough, wouldn’t I be some kind of monster?”

Hua Wu Sheng’s mouth twitched with amusement as her gaze slid to Bai Meng Jin.

Wasn’t there a monster sitting right there?

Ling Bu Fei had already scooted over. He picked up a few pastries from the table, arranged them on a small plate, and pushed it toward Bai Meng Jin. “These are good. Try them.”

Bai Meng Jin obediently took a bite and nodded. “Not bad.”

Ling Bu Fei watched her with a pleased smile, openly attentive—until Hua Wu Sheng coughed once, pointedly.

Ling Bu Fei immediately copied the gesture as if he’d been waiting for the cue. “Martial Uncle Ancestor, you should try them too.”

“Hah.” Hua Wu Sheng’s tone turned strange. “Since when is the Young Sect Master so polite? Which time did you ever not eat everything and then pack the rest to take away?”

Ling Bu Fei muttered under his breath, “That’s because you gave it to me.”

Hua Wu Sheng waved it away, unwilling to indulge him further. “All right. Let’s talk about the two of you.”

Ling Bu Fei straightened at once, looking like a disciple about to be lectured.

Hua Wu Sheng studied him and thought, at least the brat looked serious. Cultivators forming a bond and dual cultivating was not child’s play. Cause and effect tangled deeply; it would affect the dao path.

Her gaze turned to Bai Meng Jin. “Bu Fei’s condition—you understand it, yes? The devil qi in his body flares up every so often. Because his meridians are severed, we can’t smooth it for him. We can only wait for the demon-suppressing cauldron to press it down again.”

Bai Meng Jin nodded.

Ling Bu Fei wore cheer like a mask, but the fact he had lived this long meant he had suffered enough.

“You have the Jade-Tempered Body,” Hua Wu Sheng continued, “and you can control devil qi. You are perfect for smoothing it for him. In the future, he won’t have to endure that pain.”

She paused. “Those benefits for Bu Fei are clear and simple. But what about you?”

Hua Wu Sheng’s eyes sharpened. “From now on, you’ll carry that responsibility. Forever. What benefit do you want to gain?”

Bai Meng Jin glanced at Ling Bu Fei, then answered without trembling. “I don’t have the kind of luck where I’m born the Young Sect Master. But I want to taste what it feels like to be supported by the strength of an entire sect.”

Hua Wu Sheng laughed, startled by the bluntness. “Little maid, you’re small, but your heart is big.”

Bai Meng Jin pressed her lips together into a shy smile, as if embarrassed.

Hua Wu Sheng wasn’t fooled. Her voice turned blunt again, all edge. “If you can truly become one body as husband and wife—never leaving, never abandoning—then everything Bu Fei has can be shared with you. This is what I promise. Can you do it?”

Bai Meng Jin nodded without hesitation.

She had already decided.

Yu Mo’s Bai Meng Jin always kept her word.

“Good.” Hua Wu Sheng clapped her hands once. “I’ll remember your promise. I also agree to this marriage.”

Ling Bu Fei let out a small, joyful breath, rose, and saluted. “Thank you, Martial Uncle Ancestor, for granting it.”

Hua Wu Sheng waved a hand. “My granting it doesn’t matter. It depends on your actions. You’re too young. Maybe you don’t understand the weight of the words dao companion. You might not even make it to the day you marry.”

“We definitely will,” Ling Bu Fei said, confidence blazing. “When we do, we’ll invite Martial Uncle Ancestor to witness it.”

Hua Wu Sheng snorted, but there was something like approval beneath it. “Fine. At least it’s a beginning.”

Then she remembered the other matter and turned to Bai Meng Jin. “Right. The sect master asked me to find you a master. Your cultivation method stands on its own. Do you have any thoughts?”

Bai Meng Jin shook her head. “Thank you for the sect master’s kindness, but there’s no need. I already have a master.”

All three present froze.

In the cultivation world, you didn’t bring your own arts and join a sect. If you had a master, you followed your master’s path—so why come here?

Hua Wu Sheng’s gaze sharpened into something dangerous. “Is that so? Where?”

Bai Meng Jin lifted her hand and summoned the Yin-Yang Umbrella.

A thin thread of Divine Transformation Stage aura leaked from it—quiet, but undeniable.

“Here.”