Compared to any instruction he'd received before—whether from Qingxu, Qingyin, Lin Gi, or Mingji—Zhong Yin's words carried a clarity and force none of them possessed. They were vivid and plainspoken, yet layered with hidden depth, always offering more to uncover beneath the surface.
To speak with a sage for an hour is worth more than ten years of study… So this is what that saying means!
Li Xun was completely in awe. If he could, he would have knelt on the mountain right then and there and begged to remain, just to hear Zhong Yin teach day and night. Just this short exchange, he felt, had saved him three years of bitter cultivation.
Unfortunately, what he hoped for, Zhong Yin clearly had no intention of offering.
When the explanation came to an end, Zhong Yin said calmly, "That ink bamboo painting contains a sword technique I developed in recent years, something I created in idle moments. I call it Shadowed Bamboo, Rising Mist—a style that starts shallow and grows deep, like new shoots rising section by section from the earth."
"I'll pass it to you now. After you descend the peak, hand it over to your master. He'll guide your further training. You may go. Don't keep Qingyin waiting too long."
"Immortal Master Qingyin?" Only then did Li Xun remember the one who had all but hurled him down from the sky—Qingyin. A strange feeling stirred in his heart.
What was Qingyin playing at? Had she simply pushed him into Zhong Yin's path to be evaluated and perhaps receive some instruction?
He could only shake his head. That elegant, aloof immortal—her motives were far beyond his comprehension.
As for Zhong Yin, at the mention of Qingyin, his expression changed slightly. He cast another glance at Li Xun, his gaze pensive.
After a moment's silence, he finally spoke. "Li Xun."
"Disciple is here!"
"Your Immortal Master Qingyin has a strange temperament. Even her senior and junior martial brothers and sisters of her own generation find her difficult to handle—let alone you, her junior. If, in the future, she does something that angers you… on account of today, try not to take it too personally."
Li Xun's knees buckled. He dropped to one knee. "Disciple dares not! Immortal Master Qingyin is an elder—I…"
"Enough." Zhong Yin interrupted him, smiling faintly as he turned back toward the house. As he stepped inside, his final words drifted out: "Stand up. Qingyin wouldn't like to see you acting like a spineless worm."
The bamboo door closed gently. No further sound came from within.
Li Xun knelt there, stunned, for a long while before finally climbing to his feet. A bitter smile tugged at his lips. Even if I were a tough one… would she like me then?
That was a question he wouldn't dare ask aloud even if it cost him his life. He could only wonder about it silently—indulging in a few hopeless daydreams.
He walked through the bamboo grove, several hundred paces without finding an edge. But he did come across a few fallen bamboo branches. Each was only about a finger thick, yet they gleamed a rich green, with a soft inner glow and a cool, pleasant weight in the hand.
Li Xun gave one a try—its toughness startled him. He coiled it three or four times without snapping it, and when he let go, it snapped straight again with a sharp crack. It took three full sword strikes to cut through just one.
These were excellent materials!
Reluctant to discard them, he kept the branch in hand and continued looking, head down, hoping to find a few more.
As for the standing stalks—he didn't dare touch them. If these were beloved by Zhong Yin, and he damaged even one, the man could blow him off the peak with a breath.
He searched for a while but found nothing more. Knowing that lingering any longer would only invite embarrassment, he mounted his sword and flew up. As his swordlight broke through the bamboo canopy, a crisp snap rang out—and suddenly, his body felt strangely light.
What kind of place was this for cultivation?
Yes, cultivators refined the heaven and earth's vital energy to nourish themselves—but there had to be a limit. In this bamboo grove, the density of spiritual energy was nearly tangible. Anyone trying to absorb it directly would, nine times out of ten, end up driven mad.
Only someone like Zhong Yin—half a step from immortality—could live in such a place with ease.
With these thoughts in mind, his swordlight circled in the sky. Before he left, Zhong Yin had said Qingyin was waiting outside. Whether he meant it literally or not, Li Xun dared not take it lightly—so he hovered above, circling like a lost bird.
And gods, was it a tiring thing to do.
When he'd first arrived, Qingyin had mentioned that the spiritual energy here shifted like the tides. Li Xun hadn't understood then. But now, circling in the sky, he finally grasped what it meant.
Afternoon had passed, and the spiritual energy had begun to ebb. But the fall wasn't steady—it surged forward a little, then pulled back much more. Like the sea retreating from shore, it rolled and tumbled, complex and unpredictable.
This was sheer torment for Li Xun.
In sword-riding, the most crucial factor was harmony with the surrounding spiritual energy. And how long had he even been practicing swordflight? Just a few days! In a place like this, where the energy of heaven and earth was wildly unstable, simply maintaining the balance of true qi was already a feat—how could he possibly remain steady?
So all one could see was him pitching and swaying, teetering side to side in the air like a drunkard, looking as if he might fall at any moment.
Anyone else in his place might have given up and landed already. But Li Xun thought a step further: if this environment was difficult to control, wasn't it also the perfect place to train?
Even a short session here could match a month of regular practice. So he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep flying.
His entire focus locked onto Azure Jade, his sword. He gathered his spirit, attuning himself to every fluctuation in the ambient qi, refusing to miss even the slightest change.
How much time passed, he had no idea. But eventually he felt his control improve greatly, though his internal energy was nearly depleted. Only then did he descend.
But the moment his feet touched the ground, something felt off. He turned around—and was instantly frozen in place.
At the edge of the bamboo forest, Qingyin sat gracefully upon the earth. Her hair was unbound, cascading like a waterfall down her front, and she was slowly combing through it. The scene was startlingly similar to when they had first met, when she had brushed her hair beside the water.
That same cool detachment, as though the world meant nothing to her. That same ethereal beauty, as if heaven and earth had forged her by hand. A womanly grace, subtle and flowing, neither ostentatious nor hidden—yet impossible to ignore.
How could Li Xun possibly resist?
She must have been sitting there for some time. And now, recalling the clumsy spectacle he had just made of himself in the air, Li Xun felt his face burn. He couldn't even lift his head.
In a way, her presence saved him—at least it gave him something else to focus on than his own humiliation.
His first instinct was to kneel, offer a respectful greeting, and beg forgiveness. But suddenly, Zhong Yin's words echoed in his mind.
She doesn't like spineless worms…
Thinking back, he realized Qingyin had shown clear dislike for formal bows and kneeling. If he acted too self-effacing now, he might only annoy her further.
So the thought passed in a flash, and he changed his approach—simply bowing with his hands at his sides. "Please forgive me, Immortal Master. I lost myself for a moment and kept you waiting."
Qingyin didn't even glance at him. Her indifference was colder than before. All she said was, "That painting—did Zhong Yin give it to you?"
Li Xun quickly stepped forward a few paces and presented the scroll with both hands, head lowered.
Qingyin didn't take it right away. Instead, she finished tying up her hair with unhurried grace. Only then did she accept the painting.
It should've been considered a slight—but she was an elder, after all. And with movements like hers, filled with elegance and charm, Li Xun found it impossible to be annoyed. He could've watched her forever.
A sudden lightness in his hands—the painting was gone. Qingyin slowly unrolled it.
The moment she saw it, she said, "This is the second one."
Li Xun blinked in confusion. But she only glanced at his expression and knew she'd hit the mark.
With a small shake of her head, she handed the scroll back. "Getting this Shadowed Bamboo, Rising Mist technique is your good fortune. Take it and head back down the mountain."
That was it?
Li Xun was caught off guard. He managed to nod, but forgot to move.
Qingyin rose slowly to her feet, ignoring him. Her gaze drifted into the depths of the bamboo forest, her thoughts a mystery.
Not daring to disturb her, Li Xun gathered his wits. He knew he shouldn't linger any longer, so he bowed again and began to retreat.
"Wait."
Qingyin's voice called him back. He turned, startled.
"Come here," she said.
He stepped forward like a puppet on strings, stunned. At least he had the presence of mind to keep a respectful distance. But what happened next made him freeze completely.
Qingyin reached out and touched his face.
Li Xun shivered violently. His mind went blank.
Her hand was slender, her fingers cool as jade. At the first contact, a faint flow of energy passed through his face, then pierced down to his very core, and finally radiated outward through his whole body.
In that daze, he heard Qingyin say softly, "…Like this, your face is altered. You won't have any more trouble."
Face altered?
Li Xun's heart skipped a beat. Before he could ask, Qingyin conjured a water mirror and held it before him.
One glance, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
The person in the mirror… the features hadn't truly changed. The outline and facial structure were still his—but somehow, everything was subtly different. Maybe only five or six parts out of ten resembled him. The longer he looked, the less familiar it became.
He suddenly understood.
Qingyin had touched his face because he resembled someone. To avoid future complications, she had used some method to change his appearance—just enough to avoid recognition.
Then her voice came again, faint and steady: "This transformation by true essence will fade naturally once you reach the Transforming Infant stage. By then, such things won't trouble you anymore."
She walked a few steps along the bamboo grove, and then—like a soap bubble bursting—vanished without a sound.
Li Xun rushed forward a few steps, but stopped himself. His hand instinctively rose to his cheek, to the spot she had touched.
He could still feel the lingering warmth.
And for a long moment… he stood there, completely dazed.