"How is it inappropriate?" Elder Jingxuan asked, though she already knew the answer.
The slender elder sighed. "Since last month, disciples have been running to the Back Mountain of Huiyuan Gate every evening. At first, only three or five of them sneaked over for a look. I thought young people were simply curious, so I turned a blind eye."
"And then?"
"Now there are thirty or fifty of them."
Elder Jingxuan's eye twitched.
"Those girls even made a duty roster for themselves. Who goes on which day, which path they take, which hillside offers the clearest view—they've arranged every last detail."
"The Spiritual medicine on the hillside is nearly stripped bare. At this point, I doubt they can even come up with new excuses."
Another, somewhat older female elder finally couldn't hold back and cut in:
"Several disciples who used to be extremely diligent in their cultivation have been noticeably slacking lately. They're distracted while meditating and keep losing focus during sword practice."
"That's enough. No more."
She took a deep breath and turned her gaze toward the snow-covered peaks beyond the palace gates.
Forget those disciples. Their own Daoist was an even bigger headache.
To describe Su Qingmeng's current state as "favoring outsiders over her own" was putting it mildly.
She had practically started treating the little courtyard behind Huiyuan Gate as her own home. She went every morning and came back every evening, punctual and unwavering through wind and rain, more diligent than she was for morning lessons. Whenever she returned, she had fresh injuries, yet she always wore the grin of an idiot.
Was this really their cold and peerless Daoist of Daoning Gate?
Elder Jingxuan didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
But on second thought, she couldn't really blame Gu Chengming.
Had Gu Chengming done