Page 5

When exactly had Pei Ji's swordsmanship improved to this extent?

This question struck hollowly in his heart. Amidst the night that was gradually spreading and growing, Nie Zhi heard a laugh so faint it was almost inaudible.

The afterglow of the setting sun intertwined with the moonlight, the chaotic light and shadow flowing down like a babbling brook, outlining the sharp, distinct contours of the youth before him.

Pei Ji's pitch-black pupils were filled with crimson light. Although his lips curled into a minute arc, his gaze was as cold as a frozen river in a northern gale, devoid of even a shred of warmth.

His tone was indifferent, carrying a hint of laziness and mockery. The tear mole beneath his eye looked like a solidified bloodstain, making Nie Zhi's spine go cold instinctively: "Draw your sword."

Whatever was happening on the male lead's side had absolutely nothing to do with Ning Ning at this moment.

If he wanted to collect a harem, let him collect a harem; if he wanted to enter a secret realm, let him enter a secret realm. She didn't care in the slightest.

The only thing Ning Ning cared about was that she could finally walk on the ground again! And not just walk—even flying on a sword was a piece of cake!

In her past life, she had been tormented by illness to the point of agony. When she was critically ill, she had only one breath left; she didn't even have the strength to get out of bed and could only lie there quietly, waiting to die.

Thinking about it carefully, it had been a long, long time since she had walked freely.

She was truly, super-duper happy right now!

Ning Ning almost trotted out of the disciple's quarters, arrived at an open area on the mountaintop, and relied on her memory to form a hand seal with one hand.

As a flash of sword light sparked from her waist, the long sword unsheathed in response, hovering in mid-air.

This sword was named Star Trace. The blade was slender and thin, light as a swallow, revealing a faint, cold glow under the moonlight.

The hilt was adorned with several small, exquisite Guanghan Ghost Pearls. Their spiritual light was fully revealed, shining brilliantly to the eye, truly possessing three parts of the color of a sky full of star traces.

The original owner had cherished this sword dearly—or rather, in the eyes of every Sword Cultivator, their own sword was a peerless treasure.

Where the person is, the sword is; only the sword and oneself exist.

Whether cleaving mountains and rivers, shattering the earth and breaking the firmament, or traversing all the mysterious realms of the heavens, fleeting fame is but an external matter. There is only one person and one sword.

What is the need for money? A sword is enough. What is the need for fame? A sword is enough. What is the need for a wife? A sword is enough.

Or rather, the sword is their wife.

—Her wife is just too beautiful! Don't worry, baby Star Trace, Mommy will definitely buy you the best-looking clothes and make you the prettiest kid in the entire sect!

Ning Ning made a solemn vow, stepped onto the blade with less-than-proficient movements, and with a faint hum of the sword, rose into the sky on spiritual energy.

The setting sun was swallowed whole by the night, leaving only a glowing moon in the sky. Thin clouds, like cotton wool soaked in ink, drifted gently and softly across the pitch-black dome, unable to hide the thick moonlight.

Ning Ning lowered her eyes to look down, and she couldn't help but be struck dumb.

The Xuanxu Sect, where she resided, was built within the Kunwu Mountains and ranked among the seven great grotto-heavens blessed with abundant spiritual energy. As the saying goes, "The essence of the heavens manifests in mystery, arraying palaces in the clear expanse; the hidden spirit condenses in silence, opening grottoes amidst famous peaks."

The Taixuan Main Peak rose abruptly from the very center, with the four branches of Lingxiao, Kaiyang, Yuheng, and Tianhe arrayed nearby. The remaining smaller peaks were layered with crags and cliffs, draped in a deep, tranquil verdure.

The towering peaks created a varied landscape where swift winds and mist intertwined. The white fog between the mountains gathered and dispersed like light, ethereal silk veils draped over the peaks; now, soaked in the luminous moonlight, they appeared all the more desolate and ethereal.

Looking closely, one could see buildings scattered like stars across the sky. The Sword Casting Platform, the Sword Formation, the Star Gazing Platform, and the Academy were all brightly lit. Connected by stone stairways and sky-bridges, the scene looked like an otherworldly fairyland when viewed from afar while riding a sword.

It was truly a magnificent sight.

And so, Ning Ning swore that she absolutely did not intend for her stomach to growl.

After her empty belly issued its third protest, Ning Ning finally arrived at the dining hall.

To pick a fight with Pei Ji, the original owner of this body had actually missed the sect's designated dinner time. Ning Ning thought with a sense of pathetic defeat that this was clearly a case of "inflicting eight hundred damage on the enemy while suffering a thousand oneself." How could revenge possibly be more important than eating?

The supplies in the dining hall were as empty as her stomach. Perhaps seeing that the young girl was truly pitiful, the female cultivator in charge of the kitchen took a skinned, dead goose out of a cupboard.

Then, with a twist of her hands, she tore the goose in two right down the middle and handed one half to Ning Ning.

A literal, crispy goose dissection.

But why are your movements so practiced!

"You are the seventh disciple to come begging for food this month. Supplies are low, so try to make it last, little fellow Daoist."

The female cultivator tore the goose and closed the cupboard in one fluid motion, speaking with a very practiced tone: "There is still hope in life. Do not lose heart just because you are temporarily out of money. As long as you have your life, those worldly possessions will come eventually."

Ning Ning: ?

Wait, did you misunderstand something? And why is she the seventh person to come begging for food? Do the people in this sect have a habit of being late for dinner? And what does this have to do with money? Surely no one is actually too poor to afford a meal, right? Surely not?

Full of confusion, Ning Ning replied instinctively, "The seventh?"

The female cultivator sighed gloomily, "There were even more in the past. Little fellow Daoist, do you really not understand what our sect is like?" ...She really didn't understand!

In the end, the female cultivator didn't explain herself clearly. Ning Ning returned to her small courtyard with the goose, her head still full of fog.

Unexpectedly, the original owner's room was actually quite refreshing to look at, devoid of the blinding gold, silver, and bronze ornaments she had imagined.

Naturally, there were no cooking pots here, and she couldn't find any firewood for roasting at the moment. Ning Ning looked around her room, feeling a bit distressed, until her gaze finally landed on the Alchemy Furnace sitting in the corner.

This was it!

The Alchemy Furnace used spiritual energy as a catalyst, so it could be ignited without firewood. Furthermore, its structure was similar in principle to a pressure cooker, making it the perfect tool for roasting a goose. She really was a clever little thing.

--Of course, the above behavior was extremely dangerous. All that talk about pressure cookers and being a clever thing was nothing but her own nonsense.

If the ancestors of the Xuanxu Sect knew that someone was using a cauldron to roast a goose, they might be so enraged that they would descend from the immortal realm, with even more vigor than the Seven Fairies searching for Dong Yong.