Chapter 8

Jiang Liuzhao stood clad in a silver-white robe, nearly blending into the endless snowscape, yet she remained utterly unmoved amid the howling winds and swirling flakes.

As Lu Mingyi drew closer, she could make out the curl of Jiang Liuzhao’s long lashes and the inky eyes beneath them. With just a gentle glance toward Lu Mingyi, those pitch-black eyes shone as the most striking color in this frozen world of ice and snow.

Back when Lu Mingyi mingled freely with the other sect members, her senior sisters had gossiped about how her master, the Long Rainbow Sword Venerable, wasn’t just unparalleled in talent and swordsmanship—her beauty was top-tier too. Countless people had once worn paths to Sword Peak just for a glimpse of the Sword Venerable’s grace.

It was only later, as Jiang Liuzhao’s cultivation soared and her aura grew ever more oppressive, that the admirers finally backed off.

Lu Mingyi had never sensed any such pressure from Jiang Liuzhao.

It had only been a few days since they’d last met, but seeing her master now filled her with pure joy. A smile bloomed unbidden on her face as she exclaimed in delight, “Master, what brings you here?”

Jiang Liuzhao’s gaze swept over Lu Mingyi from head to toe, prompting her to straighten up instinctively, improving her poise. Jiang Liuzhao took in the subtle motion before speaking. “Your senior sister was worried about you coming to Contemplation Cliff and asked me to deliver some things.”

Lu Mingyi’s heart sank at the words.

Contemplation Cliff punishment theoretically forbade bringing artifacts or treasures, but rules were made by the living, not the dead—especially for disciples whose cultivation wasn’t high enough. Without a Warmth Pearl, one might freeze and fall ill.

Some bent the rules, of course, but others upheld them rigidly. Unfortunately, Jiang Liuzhao was precisely the sort who was self-disciplined and scrupulously rule-abiding.

Lu Mingyi couldn’t help suspecting her senior sister had lost her head in busyness. Who asked her master to deliver items right before confinement?

Sure enough, Jiang Liuzhao’s next words confirmed it: “Do you need it?”

“No need,” Lu Mingyi replied hastily, terrified her master might think she’d turned into some pleasure-seeker. The Storage Ring on her finger suddenly felt scorching hot.

But from start to finish, every expression and gesture was caught in Jiang Liuzhao’s eyes. Her silent gaze lingered for a moment on Lu Mingyi’s slender, pale fingertips before she said, “Since this is your first offense, I’ll let it slide. No next time.”

Even with her master’s forgiveness, Lu Mingyi felt even worse.

Her previous two confinements had been for trespassing into the sect’s forbidden grounds and the ninth floor of the Book Collection Pavilion. Back then, at Golden Core, she’d scorned bringing anything to Contemplation Cliff.

But now, at merely Foundation Establishment Third Layer, going without artifacts for a month there would land her bedridden upon return. To avoid delaying later matters, she’d brought the Storage Ring.

She never imagined Xiao Yuxie’s “kind gesture” would get her caught red-handed by Jiang Liuzhao.

Contemplation Cliff’s temperatures were brutally low, yet Lu Mingyi’s face and throat burned hot. She lowered her eyes and murmured, “Thank you, Master.” Fearing Jiang Liuzhao might leave just like that, she scrambled for a topic. “Master, how has the Sect Leader been lately?”

Jiang Liuzhao’s expression didn’t change as she gazed at Lu Mingyi and said coolly, “Not well, but the condition is temporarily suppressed.”

“May I ask what caused the Sect Leader’s sudden illness this time?”

“Peering into the heavens’ secrets.”

“The heavens’ secrets?” Lu Mingyi’s stunned look contrasted sharply with Jiang Liuzhao’s unchanging indifference.

At last, Jiang Liuzhao’s demeanor shifted slightly, and Lu Mingyi caught a hint of probing in it. “You’re quite concerned about the Sect Leader’s illness.”

“No, this disciple is just… just a bit curious. After all, the Sect Leader was quite healthy before.”

Lu Mingyi quickly averted her eyes, but her mind raced: The Sect Leader’s illness must be truly severe this time—it’s lingered so long without recovery.

Then another thought followed: Both have health issues, yet Master sends other peak sisters to care for me while personally tending the Sect Leader. Those rumors clearly aren’t groundless; Master’s bond with the Sect Leader must have been profound back in the day.

As Lu Mingyi’s thoughts churned, Jiang Liuzhao’s voice drifted over again. “The Demon Sect has been stirring lately. The Sect Leader divined for it and suffered backlash from the reading.”

So that’s it—the Demon Sect again!

At the mention, Lu Mingyi perked up. “Master, I heard a bit from Ming Xuan Martial Aunt. Is the Demon Sect after that so-called Five-Colored Stone again?”

The snow on Contemplation Cliff fell harder, thicker now, blurring Jiang Liuzhao’s expression for Lu Mingyi. But she felt the gaze upon her intensify. “You don’t believe it?”

Caught off-guard by the question, Lu Mingyi answered honestly. “…Of course. The Five-Colored Stone is just a legend.”

The tale of the Five-Colored Stone was known not only in the Cultivation World but even in the Mortal Realm.

Myth had it that in the primordial era, a cataclysm struck the desolate world. The heavens cracked, and the goddess Nüwa refined Five-Colored Stones to mend the breach, averting total destruction. After patching the sky, the remnants scattered across the world.

Some said those fragments housed the malevolent spirits that cracked the heavens—ill-omened things. Others claimed they were primordial divine artifacts, granting powers to overturn seas and topple mountains to their owner.

Lu Mingyi had heard the Nüwa mends-the-sky myth since childhood and never taken the Five-Colored Stone seriously. It was just a legend from the primordial era, tens of thousands of years ago—who knew how much it had been embellished?

Just then, Jiang Liuzhao stepped closer.

Though they were of similar height, her aura made Lu Mingyi feel dwarfed. Her gaze tilted slightly downward, perfectly framing Jiang Liuzhao’s slender, pale neck. With each breath, a faint blue vein stood out vividly against the fair skin.

“Legends or not, the Demon Sect believes utterly.”

“Anything else you wish to ask?”

Jiang Liuzhao’s voice rang out again, and this time Lu Mingyi fixed her eyes firmly on her master’s feet, not daring to let them wander.

Anything else?

The question left Lu Mingyi awkward. Jiang Liuzhao had answered every query with her usual patience toward her.

Yet here she was at Contemplation Cliff for breaking sect rules again—smuggling a warming artifact.

Lu Mingyi opened her mouth to say “No,” but a voice from days ago in Lingxiao Pavilion flashed in her mind:

[How can she be so oblivious to priorities? At this rate, she’ll have to find a new disciple.]

Caught smuggling the Storage Ring, Lu Mingyi writhed in torment and guilt.

Facing such an unworthy disciple, she thought, Master probably shouldn’t waste more effort on me.

The words on her tongue twisted into, “I’m sorry.”

Jiang Liuzhao’s brow twitched faintly, her gaze never leaving Lu Mingyi. “Why apologize?”

“My cultivation recovery looks hopeless now. You taught me the Crimson Sky Sword Art, but I’ve let you down. Yet you’ve always indulged my willfulness.” Lu Mingyi paused, her voice softening. “If the chance arises… I hope you’ll find a disciple of exceptional talent to inherit your mantle.”

Head bowed the whole time, she missed the sudden complexity in Jiang Liuzhao’s eyes.

“You are my personal disciple. No need for excessive worry.”

The first voice faded, and Jiang Liuzhao’s tone grew ethereal. Lu Mingyi felt a gentle warm breeze scatter the snow from her body.

Then came the second: “Mind your health this month on Contemplation Cliff.”

When Lu Mingyi looked up, Jiang Liuzhao was gone, leaving only her lingering voice:

[Coincidence, or omen? If necessary, I should…]

Lu Mingyi realized at once—this wasn’t a third message from her master, but that eerie, source-unknown voice!

The snow turned into a ferocious blizzard. With no choice, she couldn’t chase her master’s vanished figure and hurried into her cave instead.

Compared to the storm outside, the ice-hewn cave felt almost warm.

The moment Lu Mingyi stepped inside, she set aside the Storage Ring she’d clenched in her fist.

She’d already removed it while facing Jiang Liuzhao—and she didn’t want to see it for a good while.

No warming artifacts, no Fire Spiritual Root. Even channeling her meager spiritual power for warmth from the start yielded little. At first, she could see her breath’s mist; soon, even that faint heat vanished.

Lu Mingyi sat in meditation, focusing her thin cultivation against the cold. But compared to her body’s chill, her mind buzzed actively.

Past voices had clear intents, but today: Ji Xuyun’s “positive” grand gift first, then Jiang Liuzhao’s vague words.

If it were heart demons or evil spirits, pulling this off would be terrifyingly advanced.

Moreover, her master wouldn’t have failed to notice such things.

Lu Mingyi wondered if those rumors had swayed her. Once dismissive of “mind-reading,” she felt her first real doubt.

If they truly were inner thoughts, then what I heard before…

She shook her head, halting the dangerous slide.

Her master had passed down her lifelong learnings; her senior sister had cared for her since joining the sect; her junior sister visited whenever free—not to mention Shen Mingzheng, who’d grown up with her.

How could they say such things?

Realizing she’d harbored malicious doubt toward them even briefly brought a surge of intense guilt—and a dull ache in her chest.