The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 55p1

Chapter 55: Disciple and Wife p1

News of Cen Dianshuang, the famously aloof elder who swore off disciples, taking on a student spread quickly through the Hanshan Sect, sparking curiosity about her first apprentice.

“Do you think she’ll attend the Academy?”

“Elder Cen is so busy, managing the Disciplinary Hall and traveling the world slaying demons. She’ll probably send her disciple to the Academy to learn the basics of cultivation from the teaching elders.”

“Elder Cen’s teaching methods must be rigorous.”

“I agree. She’ll probably be at the Academy for a while. We should try to befriend her.”

Cultivation was, after all, a personal journey. A master could guide, but ultimately, progress depended on the individual.

Direct disciples were considered core disciples, but a master with numerous students couldn’t possibly provide personalized instruction to each one. It would be exhausting.

Like the Sect Leader, she delegated most of the teaching to her other disciples, offering occasional guidance, sharing insights unavailable elsewhere.

Those who required more structured learning attended basic cultivation classes at the Academy, separate from the outer sect disciples.

Not to mention the difference in monthly stipends. These core disciples were, after all, the sect’s future.

“Just wait. Someone from Wangshu Peak will come for the disciple token soon. We’ll see her then,” said a disciple on duty at the Affairs Hall.

That made sense.

However, days turned into weeks, and the meticulously crafted direct disciple token remained unclaimed, gathering dust.

Wangshu Peak had only two occupants: Elder Cen and her disciple. They had no steward to manage such matters, often forgetting or overlooking minor details. No one wanted to bother Elder Cen unnecessarily.

So, the rumors shifted. From She’ll definitely be at the Academy for a while, to Elder Cen must be doting on her disciple, personally overseeing her training.

Such whispers sparked envy. Few were fortunate enough to receive a master’s undivided attention.

Tao Ning slipped out of Wangshu Peak unnoticed half a month later. Unable to fly on a sword, she bribed a crane with dried fish, securing transport.

The Affairs Hall was always bustling with disciples taking on missions, reporting their successes, and collecting their rewards and monthly stipends.

In the crowd, Tao Ning was inconspicuous.

She surveyed the hall, then approached a counter. The disciple behind it, busy writing, asked, “What do you need?”

Tao Ning: “Senior Brother, I’m here to collect the direct disciple token for Wangshu Peak.”

The disciple looked up in surprise. “Wangshu Peak?”

Tao Ning nodded. “I’m Tao Ning.”

She was ready to receive the token. Navigating the Hanshan Sect without one was inconvenient.

While core disciples could be distinguished from outer sect disciples by their robes and titles, the token was the most reliable identifier.

Those like Tao Ning, whose master hadn’t yet bestowed a title, or who preferred their own attire, were harder to distinguish.

The disciple’s eyes widened, and he waved his hands frantically. “Please, don’t call me Senior Brother. I’m your… grand-nephew.”

Tao Ning: “…Oh. Right.”

The disciple, relieved, said, “You’re here for the disciple token, right? I’ll find it for you.”

He retrieved a token from a shelf that reached the ceiling, placing it on the counter with a respectful bow. “Grand-Aunt, your token.”

Direct disciple tokens were crafted from a special type of polished spiritual stone, smooth and durable, perfect for everyday use.

Tao Ning took the token, listening to the disciple’s instructions. “As a new disciple, Grand-Aunt, there are a few things you should know. This token is unique to each disciple, bearing your master’s mark. You’ll need it for your monthly stipend, taking on missions, and so on. Don’t lose it. If you do, report it to the Affairs Hall immediately…”

Tao Ning felt a pang of sympathy for the overworked disciple. “It’s also time for the monthly stipend distribution. You can collect yours next door.”

Tao Ning glanced at the long queue, her heart sinking slightly. “I just joined. Do I get one too?”

The disciple beamed, nodding enthusiastically. “Everyone gets one.”

Since I’m already here… Tao Ning joined the queue, presenting her token to the female cultivator behind the counter. “Senior Sister, here’s my token.”

The reaction was similar, but more pronounced. The cultivator’s eyes widened in excitement. “No, no, call me Grand-Niece. I’ve been waiting for someone from Wangshu Peak! You’re from Wangshu Peak, right?”

If Tao Ning hadn’t known this was the stipend distribution, she would have assumed Wangshu Peak owed this woman a large sum of money. “…Yes.”

The cultivator retrieved a large, heavy sack from beneath the counter, placing it on the table with a thud, sending dust flying. Tao Ning instinctively used a cleansing technique.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s been sitting there for a while. I don’t clean this area often. Thank you, Grand-Aunt,” the cultivator said sheepishly.

Tao Ning eyed the sack, which looked like it weighed at least fifty pounds. “This isn’t… my stipend, is it?”

She had seen other disciples receiving small pouches, each with a storage function, easily carried on their belts.

The cultivator waved her hands frantically. “No, no, this isn’t yours. This is… Elder Cen’s. She hasn’t collected her stipend for fifty years. The pouches have… accumulated. I’ve been waiting for someone from Wangshu Peak to claim them.”

Collecting a master’s stipend was a common practice.

Tao Ning stared at the half-person-tall sack. “…Fifty years?”

Fifty years of unpaid wages. Tao Ning thought of her own debts. While she claimed no regrets, the burden was heavy.

And it was likely to increase. Love meant a lifetime of servitude.

The cultivator, relieved to finally clear out the backlog, beamed. “Yes, fifty years’ worth. It’s all here. Would you like to count it?”

“No, no, that’s fine.” Tao Ning quickly stopped her from emptying the sack, her eyes wide with alarm. “I trust the Affairs Hall implicitly on behalf of my master. Thank you, Grand… Niece.”

The cultivator explained, “Ever since I started working here, Elder Cen has always forgotten to collect her stipend. I’ve been saving it for her.”

Tao Ning, suddenly understanding the cultivator’s enthusiasm, scratched her cheek. “Fifty years… Where’s my stipend?”

“Oh, right.” The cultivator retrieved a small, light green pouch, offering it with both hands. “Here you go.”

Tao Ning: “…”

The contrast was stark.

She transferred the contents of the large sack into her own pouch, filling it to the brim.

As she was leaving, she suddenly remembered something. Turning back, she asked, “Grand-Niece, do you know where I can exchange this for spiritual rice?”

The cultivator gave her directions.

Returning from Verdant Valley, where various spiritual plants were cultivated, she encountered a familiar face.

“Tao Ning?”

Tao Ning, contemplating ways to lure her master down the mountain, turned, recognizing the voice. “Jin Jiamu! What a coincidence.”

Jin Jiamu wore the Qianqi Peak disciple uniform: a red inner robe, a blue outer robe, and a disciple token at her waist.

She looked thinner, but more energetic.

She approached quickly, the red ribbon in her hair fluttering. Her eyes widened. “I haven’t seen you since the ceremony. You’ve… already guided spiritual energy into your body?”

Half a month? That was incredibly fast.

Guiding spiritual energy was a mysterious process. Some struggled for years, while others achieved it overnight.

Jin Jiamu hadn’t been so fortunate, taking three years. She had heard the others were still struggling.

Looking closer, she realized something was amiss. “No, you’ve done more than that. I can sense your spiritual aura, but I can’t see your cultivation level. Don’t tell me you’ve already reached the peak?”

Tao Ning didn’t deny it.

Her earlier progress had been hampered by the lack of spiritual energy in the environment. Now, with Cen Dianshuang’s spirit-infused jade bed, her cultivation had advanced rapidly.

And…

She recalled the night of her breakthrough. Cen Dianshuang had sat beside her, guiding her, sipping tea, lost in thought. When Tao Ning opened her eyes, she had asked, “You still haven’t told me who injured you and crippled your cultivation.”

The question had nearly caused Tao Ning’s carefully constructed lie to unravel. She had claimed she had been attacked by a powerful cultivator protecting some young master or mistress from a wealthy family she had inadvertently offended on the road. She didn’t know their identity.

She had barely managed to dissuade Cen Dianshuang, who had been ready to exact revenge with Xuan Ying in hand.

Cen Dianshuang had looked at her with guilt and regret, assuming it was her absence that had led to the attack. Tao Ning hadn’t understood her reaction.

“Half a month? That’s amazing! Didn’t your master say anything?” Jin Jiamu couldn’t hide her envy. “She must have praised you.”

She had injured her legs just before reaching Foundation Establishment, disrupting her spiritual energy flow and causing her cultivation to regress. She hadn’t made any progress in years.

She was still taking medicine to recover. Elder Qianlian, furious, planned to confront the Jin clan about their treatment of their daughter. Even a Heavenly spiritual root deserved proper care.

Tao Ning repeated Cen Dianshuang’s words. “‘Just like me. I guided spiritual energy at five, reached Foundation Establishment at ten. My master always worried about my foundation, refusing to let me advance.’”

Jin Jiamu: …You’re both monsters.

Sharing a bag of dried fish with Jin Jiamu, Tao Ning used the remaining bag to bribe another crane, securing a ride back to her lodgings.