Most of the books in the western cabinet were accounts of the experiences of Gloomwind Valley's worthies through the ages, and they soon caught Xu Qingtong's interest. One Gloomwind Valley predecessor, who called himself Daoist Xihua, had traveled through Central Province. In his jade slip, he described its local customs and people, the distribution of power among its major cultivation sects, and more.
Another was the fourth sect master of Gloomwind Valley, who had ventured into the Thousand-Cloud Mountain Range south of the valley. He had penetrated over a thousand li into its depths but had been unable to find his way out. Trapped in the mountains for three years, he had only barely escaped danger after a small golden-furred marten guided him out.
Yet another jade slip recorded a great tree that could speak in human language. When someone approached, the tree suddenly turned into a clear breeze and vanished.
Such accounts were too numerous to list.
Xu Qingtong read with his heart stirred and his mind soaring, exclaiming in delight. As the ancients said, books held houses of gold, and books held beauties with faces like jade. He had never understood those words very deeply before, but after reading these accounts, he finally understood: The ancients truly did not deceive me!
Only when the old gatekeeper came to tell him it was getting late and he had to close up did Xu Qingtong reluctantly leave the Library Pavilion.
For the next three days, he came to the Library Pavilion early every morning and returned to Swallowtail Peak after dark.
On the fourth day, Xu Qingtong came to the Library Pavilion again. He had read almost every book on the second floor, with only a few in the corner left unread. He seemed to have forgotten why he had