Chapter 57

As words that could shock heaven and move ghosts spilled from Yan Zhichuan’s mouth, Zhan Yujie cut her off with a single “Fine.”

Having achieved her goal, Yan Zhichuan gazed gleefully at Zhan Yujie, inching closer and closer to her body. Zhan Yujie raised a hand to push her away, but it was like shoving against a wall—she didn’t budge an inch. How many Dragon Blood Pills had her good little junior sister popped behind her back to boost her physique?

Sui Heng, the bystander, watched with a shifting expression. With the serious business done, sticking around would only cramp the sisters’ flirtatious banter. She quickly made an excuse and slipped away like greased lightning. Her movements were lightning-fast; she vanished in an instant, not even giving Zhan Yujie time to explain.

Zhan Yujie lowered her gaze to Yan Zhichuan.

Her good junior sister still wore that carefree smile, her eyes brimming with innocence.

Zhan Yujie took a deep breath. “Stand properly.”

“Oh,” Yan Zhichuan said, straightening her back. But in moments, she slumped again. Zhan Yujie eyed her expression and, as Yan Zhichuan tried to cling closer, brushed her sleeve and stepped away ahead of time. Yan Zhichuan stumbled, only for Cloudy to catch her softly.

Zhan Yujie circled behind the desk and sat cross-legged.

Cloudy drifted lazily to hover before Zhan Yujie. Yan Zhichuan stared fixedly at her, utterly content in her appreciation.

Zhan Yujie didn’t want to acknowledge Yan Zhichuan, but that blatant gaze—combined with memories of those storybooks—made her feel her junior sister was up to no good. She lifted her eyes. “Does Junior Sister need something?”

“Yes, yes!” Yan Zhichuan nodded vigorously like pounding garlic.

Zhan Yujie: “…Out with it, then.”

“Got it.” Yan Zhichuan’s eyes sparkled. She asked, “Doesn’t Senior Sister find it strange? That Ruoxu Daoist—it’s definitely a conspiracy, right?”

Zhan Yujie raised a brow. “Explain.”

Yan Zhichuan launched into analysis. “Li Jing’s fall was only recently discovered, but Luo Guanyin defected from Cihang Studio years ago. Storybooks about her neither came early nor late—they pop up right at this critical moment. Isn’t that basically screaming there’s something fishy? I’ve read all of Tenfold Spring Charm’s works; I know her inside out. But this—”

“Homage to Guanyin doesn’t match her previous style?” Zhan Yujie’s brows furrowed.

“Oh, no.” Yan Zhichuan shook her head rapidly. “I haven’t read it since it was published. That doesn’t make sense.”

Zhan Yujie: “…Anything else?”

Yan Zhichuan pouted. “Anyway, she’s no good person. Senior Sister, don’t get too close to her.”

Zhan Yujie closed her eyes.

What exactly had she been hoping for?

They hadn’t even met Ruoxu Daoist yet, and she was already overthinking.

Ruoxu’s emergence was indeed unusual. Junior Sister’s suspicions might not be wrong—which made investigating all the more necessary. This level of deliberation meant that even if it wasn’t tied to Li Jing Daoist, it connected to something else.

“Senior Sister, what do you mean by that?” Yan Zhichuan had been staring at Zhan Yujie the whole time. Even someone as dense as her could sense the shift in Zhan Yujie’s mood. She was instantly displeased.

She really had foresight—what right did Zhan Yujie have to look down on her!

The cloud shifted with Yan Zhichuan’s emotions, tendrils of hazy mist extending outward, nearly enveloping the entire Dharma Hall.

Yan Zhichuan jumped down from the cloud and half-knelt before Zhan Yujie, clutching her arm tightly. “Senior Sister, trust me just this once. Don’t go anywhere near that Ruoxu Daoist.”

Zhan Yujie said nothing.

Yan Zhichuan huffed indignantly. “I’m doing this for your own good. Don’t be ungrateful.”

Zhan Yujie’s brow twitched. She turned to Yan Zhichuan, who alternated between softness and tough talk, her face set in shameless tantrum mode. “And if I don’t?”

Yan Zhichuan froze, staring at her in disbelief.

How could her senior sister say something so cold?

“Then I’ll—”

Zhan Yujie watched her impassively. “Then what will you do?”

Yan Zhichuan let out two pitiful “wu wu” whimpers. “Then I’ll kneel and beg you, sprawl on top of you and beg, night and day without end.”

“Stop!” Zhan Yujie interrupted. What nonsense. She said, “I understand,” and waited for Yan Zhichuan to leave.

But Yan Zhichuan, having gotten her assurance, flashed a satisfied smile and leaned into Zhan Yujie again and again. She nuzzled enthusiastically against her, and when she rumpled Zhan Yujie’s robes, she proactively reached out to smooth them. But as her fingertips brushed the soft fabric, Zhan Yujie seized her wrist.

Yan Zhichuan looked up in confusion, her eyes dazed and innocent.

“Yan Zhichuan!” Zhan Yujie felt electrified all over from the rubbing. Her face flushed with embarrassment and anger, her snowy jade earlobes turning red.

“Senior Sister, your body—” Yan Zhichuan was dazed, a flush blooming on her face and spreading rapidly to the roots of her ears, as if drunk. She swallowed back the words “smells so good,” leaving only a soft murmur. After a few breaths of silence, she mumbled, “No wonder those storybooks have junior sisters loving senior sisters.”

Zhan Yujie went rigid.

She shot to her feet, nearly toppling the desk in her haste.

Yan Zhichuan, leaning against her, staggered backward. Cloudy swooped in just in time to catch her. Yan Zhichuan settled onto it with a brilliant smile.

Zhan Yujie glared at her. She smoothed the wrinkles from her robes and said expressionlessly, “If it’s dangerous, Junior Sister, you should focus on cultivating diligently. Beyond the Sword of Nine Abyss, you need to keep practicing the Cauldron Formula.” The sect leader had indeed left protective artifacts, but the stronger they were, the greater their restrictions—no way to activate them anytime, anywhere.

Yan Zhichuan froze.

The smile slowly faded from her face.

Zhan Yujie raised a brow and chuckled lightly.

Three days later.

With preparations complete, Sui Heng knocked again. The three set off for Fengyue Alley.

In the bustling Immortal City crowds, the risk of danger was low, but to be safe, Sui Heng marked their path every so often and messaged their fellow disciples. If she didn’t return promptly, they’d come investigate immediately.

About half an hour later, Yan Zhichuan and the others arrived at a peach blossom courtyard.

Cultivators had varied tastes; their courtyards reflected that. Some followed nature’s seasons, while others preferred eternal spring.

A peach tree stood in the yard, and beneath it waited a daoist in a white-gold robe—tall and graceful, lips curved in a gentle smile.

Sui Heng asked, “Are you Tenfold Spring Charm?”

The daoist nodded, asking familiarly, “Does Daoist want a signature? Which book should I sign it on?”

Yan Zhichuan eyed the daoist warily. She’d been muttering to the Heavenly Dao System the whole way there. Hearing “signature,” her feet moved on their own. “The pure one—” Before she finished, Zhan Yujie yanked her wrist back, snapping her storybook-filled head to clarity.

“Homage to Guanyin.” Sui Heng answered.

Ruoxu shot Sui Heng a deep glance.

Sui Heng’s expression didn’t change. She took out Homage to Guanyin and waited for the signature.

Ruoxu brushed her waist, producing a brush. With a surge of spiritual power on the book, “Tenfold Spring Charm” appeared in bold, vigorous strokes. After signing, she handed the storybook back to Sui Heng. “Daoist’s purpose—”

“Just curious where you learned these events from.” Sui Heng waved Homage to Guanyin.

Ruoxu didn’t hide it. “I was originally from Cihang Studio.”

Sui Heng: “You mean the stories inside are true?”

“Some are.” Ruoxu nodded, her eyes crinkling in a warm smile. “Didn’t expect you daoists to track me down so quickly.”

Sui Heng fell silent, her brows lightly furrowed.

Zhan Yujie had been icy and stern since entering the yard.

Yan Zhichuan poked her head out, scrutinizing Ruoxu, who showed almost no demonic aura. “You knew?”

Ruoxu smiled. “To be honest with you daoists, I deliberately spread Homage to Guanyin. I’d actually written it long ago, but it involves a Cave Heaven True Person. Most true persons ignore mortal books, but I feared the worst. I hesitated until I heard that Miracle Hand Sect disciple had gone astray—then I sent it to White Jade Langhuan.”

“Why not deliver the message straight to White Jade Capital?” Zhan Yujie said offhandedly.

Ruoxu was utterly candid. “Because I fear trouble. Better for others to seek me out. If fated ones followed the clues to my little courtyard, I’d tell all. If not—it changes nothing, right? With White Jade Capital’s methods, knowing or not that past won’t affect the final judgment on Li Jing Daoist.”

Her frankness left Sui Heng with little to say. In her years of cultivation, she’d seen all sorts—some dithered and hid, lacking decisiveness. She asked, “Which parts are true?”

Ruoxu: “The initial meeting.”

Back then, Luo Guanyin hadn’t fallen to the demonic path or fixated on the Supreme Emotionless Path. She was always diligent in the world, devoted to saving all beings. But one time, after slaying a demon creature and sustaining heavy wounds, she arrived too late. After dealing with the demon, those who’d lost loved ones didn’t thank her—they unleashed endless resentment. Luo Guanyin understood their fury, but she hadn’t expected extremes: some lured her into a death array to revive their kin. If Li Jing True Person hadn’t passed by, she might have scattered to the winds.

After that, Luo Guanyin rarely descended the mountain, abandoning her original path to immerse herself in the Supreme Emotionless Path.

Yet resentment lingered deep in her heart—the seeds of deviation already sown.

Ruoxu continued, “At the time, the true person stayed in the mountains, interacting only with Li Jing True Person, constantly supplied with medicine. Her dao body had issues—even falling to the demonic path couldn’t cure it.”

Yan Zhichuan puzzled, “One person’s temperament changes so drastically—couldn’t Cihang Studio see it? Why ignore?”

Ruoxu: “That was when Tan Sect Leader perished; Cihang Studio was unstable.” She didn’t want to dwell on old matters, glossing over with a few vague words before steering back to Luo Guanyin. “You want the past to predict her future moves, right? The past matters, but not ultimately. From what I know of her, I can say for sure: she’ll come to rescue someone.”

“But with demonic methods, even rescue won’t mean storming White Jade Capital’s Town Prison directly. She’ll coerce Xuanmen into submission another way. Like—taking hostages.”

The words landed, and Zhan Yujie felt a chill blast over her. Her sword hummed, nearly unsheathing.

Yan Zhichuan jolted too, thinking Ruoxu was about to attack them outright.

A breeze stirred, peach petals swirling in the air.

Ruoxu stood amid the floral rain, a refined, gentle smile on her face.

“Trade one person for a city—would you all agree?”

Sui Heng shivered, a chill racing to the top of her head.

As if to verify Ruoxu’s words—

The Heaven-Penetrating Treasure Mirror flashed, bearing news from White Jade Capital.

A small town shrouded in eerie mist!

Sui Heng’s gaze toward Ruoxu sharpened like a sword, laced with intense scrutiny and suspicion.