Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Kun Lun Sect Wei Qing Lan

At the foot of Kun Lun Sect’s mountain, Jiang Li Sheng tumbled out of the teleportation scroll and slammed into the ground.

Her ears were still ringing with the cheers from Qing Xu Sect—“Junior Sister Jiang is finally kicked out!” Someone had yelled it the loudest, but there were too many voices to tell which bastard it was.

What she could tell was this: the moment she was sent away, plenty of them clapped like it was a holiday.

She pushed herself up, furious, ready to whirl around and settle accounts.

The painted scroll snapped into the air and shot off without warning—its tailwind smacking her full in the face as if it had done it on purpose.

Jiang Li Sheng’s chest tightened.

Who had she even offended lately? The scroll too?

Her master hadn’t listened to a single word of explanation. He’d used the sect’s teleportation treasure, bundled her up, and thrown her to Kun Lun Sect like tossing trash out the door. The damned thing had rattled her so hard she saw stars—then, at the very end, it dumped her into the dirt in a perfect face-plant.

Even Dou E wasn’t as wronged as she was.

It had started with a senior brother from Zhao Yang Peak sneaking off to meet a junior sister from Spirit Beast Peak behind his fiancée’s back. Jiang Li Sheng just happened to bump into them.

The two of them didn’t even hesitate.

With practiced coordination, they ruined the herb field together. Before she could even process what she was seeing, they were already bowing and apologizing—“Sorry, Junior Sister. Sorry, Senior Sister.”—then splitting up to sprint in opposite directions, shouting at the top of their lungs that she had suddenly gone mad and destroyed the field.

She’d stood there, staring, a hundred curses jammed in her throat.

In the end, she couldn’t defend herself no matter what she said.

And no one allowed her to defend herself, either.

That herb field held more than ten thousand spiritual plants. More than half were destroyed. The loss was staggering. When the Peak Masters and Hall Masters heard, they swarmed her master’s main peak—Moon-Gazing Peak—bristling with fury and determined to kick her out of the sect.

Her master saw the tide turning and made a clean, ruthless decision. He activated the sect’s secret treasure, the Mountains-and-Rivers Scroll, and flung her to Kun Lun Sect at top speed, begging Kun Lun Sect to shelter her for a while and “teach her properly.”

The Mountains-and-Rivers Scroll could cross ten thousand li in a day. Once it moved, no horse could ever catch up.

Her master had truly gone all-in.

Jiang Li Sheng sighed.

It had happened too fast for her to grab anything. The only thing on her was a low-grade storage pouch—stuffed with snacks.

Right before everything broke loose, she’d been soaking in a spirit spring. She liked to snack while she soaked, and she hadn’t taken the pouch off. Otherwise she would be completely, utterly broke right now.

Resigned, she cast a cleansing spell. Dust and grit vanished from her face and clothes, and she started up the mountain.

Kun Lun Sect rose like a wall into the clouds, ten thousand zhang high. She didn’t have her sword. She didn’t have talismans, teleportation charms, her Thousand-Autumn Brush, or her bagua compass.

There was nothing to do but use her own two feet—

No. Her own two hands.

She was going to be crawling.

She crawled for most of a day and didn’t see a single Kun Lun Sect disciple. When she looked up at the distant summit, it finally clicked.

Her master must have sent word to Kun Lun Sect to let her suffer. Otherwise, the scroll would have delivered her to the mountain gate, not dumped her at the foot. Kun Lun Sect had tens of thousands of disciples. Half a day on the road, and not even one sword-rider passed by?

It was obvious.

Jiang Li Sheng sat down on the steps in a sulk and refused to move.

High above, Qin Feng Xing watched through a Spirit-Link Water Mirror.

The girl had been sitting there for three days now, unmoving. Each day she ate a few snacks, drank a few mouthfuls of spring water, slept a while, and went right back to sitting—like she’d decided she wouldn’t climb unless someone came to fetch her.

Qin Feng Xing was so annoyed he laughed.

He called for a registered disciple. “Yun Duan. Go bring that little girl up the mountain.”

“Yes, Sect Master.” Yun Duan turned to leave.

“Wait.” Qin Feng Xing stopped him again.

Yun Duan turned back, confused.

Qin Feng Xing stared into the mirror as a figure approached from below. “Qing Lan is back.”

Yun Duan’s face lit up. He hurried back to the mirror.

In the glass, a young man appeared on the lower steps.

He was lean and tall, painfully young, with clear, sharp features that looked carved from ice. He wore a crimson brocade robe cinched with a jade belt. His black hair was half bound beneath an exquisite crown, with two loose strands by his ears lifting with each step. A sword hung at his waist. A jade ring gleamed on his finger.

He wasn’t riding a sword. He climbed the jade stairway one step at a time—unhurried, steady, his aura folded in tight.

He looked like a youth, yet he moved with the calm of someone who had never once needed to hurry.

Wei Qing Lan.

The Kun Lun Sect Master’s only personal disciple. This generation’s celebrated genius.

Jiang Li Sheng saw him too, and her gaze stuck.

Ridiculously good-looking.

And he was coming up from below, which meant he’d just returned.

Wei Qing Lan’s eyes swept over her—thin, small, slumped on the jade steps like she owned them, snack in hand. Her face was pale and clean, cheeks slightly puffed from chewing. When she noticed him, her eyes widened and her chewing stopped, as if she’d been caught mid-crime.

Other than the snack and the low-grade storage pouch at her waist, she had nothing. Her dark blue-green clothes had no sect markings, neither new nor especially worn—just plain. She didn’t look like a Kun Lun Sect disciple.

Wei Qing Lan didn’t linger. He withdrew his gaze and kept climbing, passing her without a word.

A crisp, cool scent brushed past—like snow carried on wind.

Jiang Li Sheng came back to herself, opened her mouth, and almost called out for a ride.

Then she swallowed it and shrank back.

She didn’t dare.

Kun Lun Sect disciples wore a standard uniform—white robes with black seal-script patterns. Only one person was different. For Wei Qing Lan alone, Qin Feng Xing had used a magic treasure to craft a crimson robe so striking you could identify him at a glance.

Kun Lun Sect’s treasure. Kun Lun Sect’s future.

If she tried to cozy up to him, Kun Lun Sect might decide they didn’t want her at all. Then what would her master’s stubborn effort to protect her amount to?

Honestly, living this way felt worse than being expelled.

Jiang Li Sheng sighed and lowered her head, returning to her snack like nothing had happened.

In the Spirit-Link Water Mirror, Qin Feng Xing saw everything and nodded with amused approval. “At least she has some self-awareness. Yun Duan, go fetch her. Once you bring her through the mountain gate, send her to the Discipline Hall. Let her learn rules from Hall Master Zhou.”

“Yes, Sect Master.”

“And tell Qing Lan to come see me.” Qin Feng Xing’s tone sharpened. “Every time he returns, he insists on spending a full day walking the Sky-Ascending Steps. This time he can’t take it slow. Tell him I’m about to enter seclusion—he is to come at once.”

“Yes!”

Ten li of spring fragrance, yet the wine stays unopened; the spring wind will not cross, and you will not come.

On Qing Xu Sect’s mountain, peach blossoms like a face; on Kun Lun Sect, snow on the Primordial Sword.