Yet at her first glimpse of Li Zhaoyan, Zhao Min herself froze for a moment. In her memory, Li Zhaoyan was still that little girl of a few years old.
When she had called her "Mother" earlier, Zhao Min had even felt dazed, wondering whose grown daughter had come running here.
This was the sorrow of cultivators. Their lifespans were long, but most of those years were spent cultivating, leaving them little time to accompany their loved ones.
Now, Zhao Min suddenly understood her parents' circumstances back then. They had forced her to cultivate both to make her strong as soon as possible and to let her remain by their side through the long years.
Thinking back on her stubborn insistence on having her own way, she now felt ashamed.
As she spoke to Li Zhaoyan, she could not help remembering her younger self, and her eyes softened. Still, once she emerged from seclusion after stabilizing her cultivation, she would certainly have to rein her daughter in.
What Zhao Min did not know was that the things Li Zhaoyan had done over the years were already beyond anything she could imagine.
Not only had she thrown Small Bamboo Peak into an uproar, but the disciples of the other four peaks were also groaning incessantly. Wherever Li Zhaoyan had been, either heaven and earth were shaken or not a blade of grass remained.
And yet Li Zhaoyan never used her standing to bully anyone. She simply liked tinkering with whatever interested her: formations, pill refining, venomous insect breeding, raising spirit beasts, and so on.
It would have been fine had she merely enjoyed studying them. But in pursuing her interests, she refused to follow existing pill recipes and procedures, instead devising ingenious alternatives, seemingly possessed of an endless supply of bizarre