Clouds in the Water

After bidding Zhou Yanwei farewell and leaving the General Affairs Office, Jiang Yang looked up to find that a light rain had begun falling again at some point.

The rain nourished like cream, pattering softly down.

Ever since learning the secret behind this fine rain, Jiang Yang had ceased to find its threads surprising.

This nourishing, life-giving power was both a manifestation of divine powers and an expression of the Sect's heartfelt care for its disciples.

Seeing that it was still early, Jiang Yang did not hurry back to his cave abode. Instead, he decided to visit the Library Pavilion.

Jiang Yang had never been to the Library Pavilion before. Every book and technique he had studied had been taught by an instructor, leaving him little opportunity to choose for himself.

He did not even know where the pavilion stood. Rather than trouble a second person over the same matter, he had asked Zhou Yanwei for directions.

It lay outside the Dewlit Ancestral Court, with Pill Spring Island to its east and White Elm Peak to its west, nestled among the mountains.

The whole of Rain Xiang Mountain was, in fact, an immense spiritual vein running from east to west. At its center stood the ancestral peak, the Dewlit Ancestral Court, guarded by numerous lofty peaks, with a great lake nurtured below—a true immortal mountain where the land's spiritual splendor fostered outstanding people.

As Jiang Yang traveled, he recalled Zhou Yanwei's introduction. Rain Xiang Mountain was vast beyond measure, and the places he had visited amounted to no more than one corner of the sect's grounds.

Leaving Morning Rain Peak, Jiang Yang reached Cold Creek, which he had passed on his previous trip. This time, however, he needed to venture farther in.

The disadvantage of being unable to ride the wind and fly became apparent once more. Had he possessed that ability, he could simply have skirted the restrictions around the peaks and flown straight to the Library Pavilion.

Since he could not ride the wind, he had no choice but to travel honestly on his own two legs. Yet a great lake barred his way to the Ancestral Court. If he tried to go around it, he would not arrive even by the following day.

Fortunately, the Sect had made arrangements for this as well. Disciples needed only to reach the end of Cold Creek, where they could board a boat and cross the great lake to the Ancestral Court.

Jiang Yang had come here precisely to save time by taking a boat.

Cold Creek's waters were clear, their chill penetrating to the bottom. Ornate vessels lay moored along the bank, each more than ten zhang long and three stories high, with upturned eaves and raised corners, exquisite in every detail.

Quite a few disciples had gathered before Jiang Yang arrived, chattering quietly among themselves. Evidently, they were all waiting to board and cross the lake.

Unfamiliar with both the people and the place, he did not join them. He simply found a spot along the bank and stood there, quietly waiting for the vessel to depart.

Before long, once enough people had gathered, a gangplank was lowered, and the disciples began boarding one after another.

Jiang Yang brought up the rear, paying one Spirit Stone to board.

The ornate vessel was driven by a spiritual array and traveled scarcely slower than a cultivator in flight. The Sect charged only a nominal fee of one Spirit Stone for a trip across the lake.

Its main purpose was to make travel convenient for the sect's disciples.

As the last to board, Jiang Yang found every cabin already full, so he had no choice but to keep climbing upstairs.

I might as well go to the third floor. I can admire the lake scenery there, too.

He did not stop after passing the second floor, thinking this to himself.

Quite a few disciples apparently shared Jiang Yang's idea. There were few seats on the third floor to begin with, and it was open to the sky. By the time he arrived, many disciples had already gathered there.

Jiang Yang scanned the deck but found nowhere he could sit alone. He decided he might as well stand for a while and go downstairs once he had enjoyed enough of the scenery.

Just as Jiang Yang hesitated, he heard someone speak a short distance to his side:

"Senior brother..."

He instinctively turned and saw a woman seated upright at the stern, wearing a loose, deep-blue robe and beckoning to him.

Jiang Yang glanced around before confirming that she was addressing him. He then stepped forward and cupped his hands.

"I wouldn't presume to call myself your senior brother. May I ask why you called me over, senior sister?"

Although Jiang Yang had just broken through to the middle stage, he certainly could not consider himself a senior brother. There were many disciples aboard, and he could hardly probe the woman's cultivation with his spirit sense, so he dared not casually address her as his junior sister.

The woman held a book in her hand. Rather than correcting his form of address, she pointed with one hand to the empty seat beside her.

"I noticed you hesitating there, fellow cultivator, and thought you must be without a seat. If you don't mind, you can sit here beside me..."

"Well..."

After a brief hesitation, Jiang Yang readily accepted. He sat down and cupped his hands in thanks.

"Of course I don't mind. It would be ungracious to refuse your kindness, senior sister."

It was only a seat, after all. Being coy about it would merely make him seem awkward, so Jiang Yang sat down without much hesitation.

"It's no trouble."

The woman smiled, her eyes curving, then lowered her head to read her book.

Gathering the hem of his robe, Jiang Yang settled beside her and only then took a closer look at her appearance. He had to admit that, with jewels like Shang Qingzheng and Li Zhouying before her, the woman beside him fell a little short in comparison.

Still, her features were well proportioned, her face oval, and her manner poised and radiant. She was pleasant to look at, and from this close, he could faintly smell a delicate fragrance tinged with smoke and fire.

Jiang Yang withdrew his gaze after a single glance. Having just accepted her kindness, he felt it would be discourteous to sit there without a word, so he cupped his hands again.

"Thank you for earlier. I'm Jiang Yang, a disciple of Morning Rain Peak. May I ask your name, senior sister?"

At his words, the woman's attention left her book. She raised her head, her brows relaxing, and answered:

"It was nothing. My name is Dan Ruo. I'm from Rain Marsh Peak."

Seeing how briefly she spoke, and how she never let go of her book, Jiang Yang thought she probably disliked making conversation, so he took the initiative.

"Kindness deserves thanks, however small. Please carry on, Senior Sister Dan Ruo. There's no need to mind me."

Dan Ruo gave a soft laugh and waved the book in her hand.

"It's not like that. I'm only passing the time."

Despite her words, neither continued the conversation, and each turned away.

Just then, the vessel sailed out of Cold Creek and entered Dew-Covered Lake. Jiang Yang turned to look at the scenery.

The sight struck him with awe at once. The lake was blue and white, smooth as a mirror, its misty waters stretching out to merge with the sky.

The lake stretched beyond sight in every direction. Had its surface not been so free of waves, Jiang Yang would have believed it was the sea.

A faint veil of mist hung over it, parting as the vessel passed, as though they were entering an immortal realm to seek out Penglai.

Heaven favored them with fine weather. The entire sky overhead was broad and open, with only a few drifting clouds.

The clearer the sky, the purer the water; each reflected the other, lending the lake a jewel-like blue.

Jiang Yang leaned down and saw the blue sky, then raised his head and beheld the azure water again. In that moment, heaven and earth seemed to have reversed, dreamlike and hazy, drawing his heart after them.

Truly: bow your head, and heaven appears within the water; enter the water, and you may wander among the clouds.

The beautiful scene cleared Jiang Yang's sea of consciousness, sending coolness rippling through it. Even his spirit sense seemed to grow faintly stronger.

Yet Jiang Yang paid no attention to that. Gazing at the beauty of heaven and earth, he could not help letting out a long, quiet sigh.

Without seeing heaven and earth, how could I know how small I am...

Only after another long while did Jiang Yang emerge from his reverie, an inexplicable sense of loss rising within him.

He shook his head to cast off the feeling and noticed a gray speck appearing in the mist, growing steadily larger as the vessel advanced.

At that moment, Dan Ruo put away her book as well. She studied Jiang Yang's profile for a good while before asking:

"May I ask which alchemist you study under, Junior Brother Jiang?"

Alchemist?

Jiang Yang froze for a moment, then immediately realized she must have misunderstood.

At the heart of Dew-Covered Lake lay an island called Pill Spring Island, a treasured site where the Sect refined spiritual pills. Most disciples traveling this route were bound for it.

When Jiang Yang first took on his duties, he had glimpsed an assignment of that kind as well. But according to Zhou Yanwei, it was the most sought-after posting and remained fully staffed year-round.

Even when a vacancy occasionally appeared, someone filled it almost immediately. Coming here, even as a mere attendant tending fires and working the bellows, required considerable connections and maneuvering. Even Zhou Yanwei could do nothing about it.

No wonder I smelled that delicate fragrance on her earlier. It was the scent of pills mingled with smoke and fire.

As these thoughts turned through Jiang Yang's mind, he promptly answered:

"You misunderstand, senior sister. I'm not studying under an alchemist. I'm actually heading to the Ancestral Court to read some of the Sect's Daoist texts."