The Academy's Wind, the Imperial City's Snow

The Academy in Jinling's Imperial City couldn't compare to Tianshan, nor could it measure up to the vast Kunlun range.

Compared with the mountains of the world, this place could only be called a blessed land, graced by nature's spiritual beauty. After all, Broken Dragon Mountain nearby didn't reach for the heavens the way Tianshan did.

Just as the Master had said back then: "A mountain need not be high; with an immortal, it becomes sacred."

The Academy had once had Master Li Mubai, and after he ascended to the heavens, another Li Dalu had appeared.

Even with a chasm cleaved before its gates by Wang Xian's sword from the sky, the spiritual energy hidden among the mountains and waters remained impossible to conceal.

In the library, a pot of wine was being warmed.

Four people sat around a square wooden table.

Li Dalu, dressed in blue, wore a faint look of longing.

The blacksmith's weathered face could not hide the shock rising from the depths of his heart.

Old Sun smiled faintly. "If it weren't so, how could he have become half a disciple of mine and the Master's?"

The dean, Huangfu Xuanyuan, slapped the back of his chair and let out a low growl. "They're courting death. They can't even wait to hang themselves!"

The blacksmith couldn't help muttering, "So Wang Xian's coming back?"

Old Sun paused at that, then said, "He's still in the Southern Frontier. The enemy's almost ashore. Will he make it in time?"

Huangfu Xuanyuan turned to look south, as if he could see countless sails surging across the Southern Sea. The corner of his mouth twitched.

He muttered, "As a ruler, he has no way to govern the country; as a father, he has no way to teach his son. Even in cultivation,