The heavy hall doors silently opened once more, and Nántáng's figure appeared in the half-open crack.
Yíngxuě's gaze bypassed her shoulder, peering into the main hall. Inside Yúnchuān (Cloud River), it was utterly serene, with only the rainbow glow of magical treasures illuminating every corner.
"Does Junior Sister have another matter?" Nántáng asked calmly.
"I heard that on the day Eldest Senior Brother treated my injuries, Senior Sister visited Qúlíng Cave looking for me. May I ask what the urgent matter was?"
"Nothing much. I merely heard you were severely injured and went to visit. Later, seeing that our Senior Brothers were busy treating your injuries and it was inconvenient to disturb, I just took a stroll around Báiméi Peak (White Eyebrow Peak) and returned to Yúnchuān," Nántáng replied.
"But did you happen to walk to the desolate marsh outside my cave dwelling?"
Nántáng nodded: "That place... is there a problem with it?"
"No problem. I am fine now, farewell." Yíngxuě turned and left once more.
Nántáng slowly pulled the hall doors shut, abruptly turned around, and pressed her back flat against the door. Yíngxuě's seemingly baseless questions—she knew exactly what the root of it was.
The black mist seeped out from the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit's mouth once again, gradually forming a shape in mid-air.
A pattern absolutely identical to the totem that had appeared on her lower abdomen.
This was exactly why Nántáng had helped it hide from Yíngxuě.
The black mist harbored no intention of harming her; it only wanted to communicate.
"That thing inside my body, is it your doing?" Nántáng asked it, but as soon as the question left her lips, she negated it herself. "No, the anomaly appeared when I returned from the Northern Border, and I only picked you up later in the desolate marsh. The timing doesn't match."
The black mist formed a giant "X" in mid-air.
Nántáng thought, this "X" probably means denial, right?
"Then... do you know the origin of this totem, and know what exactly has appeared inside my body?"
The black mist quickly morphed into a giant "O".
"O" means she guessed right?
Nántáng pinched the bridge of her nose, continuing to communicate with this clump of black mist in a Q&A format.
"Does this totem have to do with the Spring Sowing Diagram of Jùmáng?"
"O"
"Then what exactly is it?" With limited information, Nántáng couldn't glean the full picture and could only ask directly.
The black mist promptly turned into six dots.
An ellipsis?
"..." Nántáng felt a headache coming on and changed the subject. "Yíngxuě is looking for you?"
"O"
"You can't let her find you?"
"O"
"If she finds you, you'll die?"
An "O", and an "X".
Does that mean both yes and no?
Nántáng furrowed her brows in deep thought. Did this broken thing, of unknown good or evil, have a grudge against Yíngxuě? Should she hand it over to Yíngxuě? Or should she risk being discovered—and thereby offending Yíngxuě—just to hide this thing based on its severely limited information?
Perhaps sensing Nántáng's hesitation, the "O" and "X" gathered in mid-air, expanding into a much more massive cloud of black mist. The mist swiftly crept to Nántáng's side, and a barely audible voice sounded.
Nántáng jumped in fright; she hadn't expected this thing could actually speak.
"Jùmáng Spring Sowing, dangerous. You protect me, I protect you." The voice was like smoke, incredibly weak. Its tone was bizarre and indistinguishable between male and female, sounding more like a demonic beast or spiritual creature deliberately mimicking a human voice.
A simple trade.
Nántáng understood, but before she could formulate a reply, this wisp of black mist shrank back into the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit's body as if it had exhausted all its strength. The Spiritual-Ear Rabbit opened its eyes again, but this time it couldn't get up, collapsing limply on the ground and staring at her pitifully with its small bead-like eyes. Nántáng, however, didn't dare to pick it up again—she had no interest in a rotting rabbit corpse.
"The thing inside my body is very dangerous, and I could lose my life at any moment? You know its origins and can help me, on the condition that I help you hide from Yíngxuě?" she asked it.
The rabbit's long ears twitched, folding together left and right to form an "O" posture.
Seeing this, Nántáng couldn't help but feel a sense of absurdity. Right at that moment, the Sound-Transmission Bracelet (Chuányīn Zhuó) on her wrist lit up; someone from down the mountain was sending her a message.
"Senior Sister Yú, the Bǐng Class (Class C) you are responsible for has gotten into a conflict with the disciples of Níngxiá Peak. Please come over."
It was the voice of Yúnshān, who managed the inner affairs of the sect's disciples at Yùguān Peak.
Nántáng pinched the bridge of her nose once again.
After delivering the message, the bracelet dimmed. Nántáng pondered for a moment, squatted on the ground, dug out a small blade to carve away the rotting flesh and maggots on the rabbit's hind leg, wrapped it heavily in bandages again, and then, picking the rabbit up by its ears, walked over to the incense censer and stuffed it right in.
Since the Jìngxī incense could help it evade Yíngxuě's tracking, presumably it could also hide it for a short while. She would wait until she finished handling her urgent matters, then come back to make a decision.
"Before I get back, you just stay here, don't run around blindly," Nántáng said, pointing at its nose.
The rabbit's chin rested on the rim of the censer. Stripped of the black mist's arrogant demeanor, its ears drooped down as it gazed at her pitifully, looking exactly like it was being cruelly abused by its master.
Yet Nántáng simply turned and left, rushing straight toward Yùguān Peak.
————
That cultivating immortality impoverishes three generations was common knowledge to all, so cultivators in the cultivation realm, aside from those who scraped their way to high positions, did not solely focus on cultivation. Whether they were rogue cultivators or those belonging to a sect, they all needed to earn money to buy talismans, panaceas, and immortal artifacts. The difference lay in the fact that sects provided their disciples with various resources superior to the outside world, but correspondingly, sect disciples also needed to put in labor to earn their respective harvests.
This point was the same as in the mortal realm. Mortals earned gold, silver, and jewels, while cultivators earned various resources and Immortal Coins.
Immortal Coins were the currency of the cultivation realm, equivalent to mortal gold, silver, and copper.
As one of the largest cultivation sects in the Miánlóng Mountain Range, Chóngxū Gōng naturally had its own set of operational standards. Aside from their cultivation, all cultivators within the sect were required to hold a post.
As the Sect Leader's wife, Nántáng was no exception.
Her duty was to teach the mortal cultivators who had just entered the mountain gates.
In addition to the disciples Chóngxū Gōng selected from the mortal realm, every year there were also throngs of mortals who braved hardships and scaled the high peaks, kneeling outside the gates of Chóngxū Gōng to seek entry into immortal cultivation. However, these people generally had poor aptitude. Although they would be kept in Chóngxū Gōng, they were merely assigned to the outer classes, handling menial labor on one side while learning some basic entry-level cultivation methods on the other.
With her own low cultivation base, holding merely the empty title of Martial Aunt (Shīshū), she couldn't possibly command respect as a teacher in the inner sect, so she was assigned to teach basic theory in the outer sect.
But she never expected that the class she’d take over before going to the Northern Border would be Class Bǐng (Class C). Chóngxū Gōng originally only had two outer classes, Jiǎ (Class A) and Yǐ (Class B). Class Bǐng was newly established this year, specifically meant to absorb the restless and unruly disciples from Classes A and B, thus making it notoriously difficult to teach. It was one thing for the Class Bǐng disciples to have poor aptitude, but they were also entirely composed of demons, monsters, and misfits. No wonder when Yùguān Peak asked her to teach, they uncharacteristically showered her with sweet words—it turned out it was all to coax her into taking on this massive landmine.
Now that she had accepted it, what else could she do? She could only bite the bullet and face it head-on.
————
Barely stepping onto Yùguān Peak's Welcoming Lotus Stone, Nántáng ran headlong into Class Bǐng disciple Liú Zǐxù.
Liú Zǐxù was the most well-behaved cultivator in Class Bǐng, and also the most senior outer disciple in all of Chóngxū Gōng; he was nearly as old as Nántáng herself. He had even less talent than Nántáng, struggling immensely in his cultivation. Decades had passed without him breaking through the Qi Condensation realm. Now, with his lifespan nearing its end, he already looked like an old man with wrinkled skin and crane-white hair.
Nántáng had only taken over Class Bǐng for a few months and wasn't very familiar with these disciples. Fortunately, Liú Zǐxù frequently assisted by her side, allowing her to gradually understand the class's situation. Yet, precisely because of this, Liú Zǐxù had ironically become the most unpopular person in Class Bǐng.
After all, whether in the mortal realm or the immortal realm, disciples who loved to tattle to the teacher were always ostracized.
"Teacher, this conflict is mainly because the Níngxiá Peak disciples deducted our class's monthly Qi-Gathering Fruits (Jùqì Guǒ). Everyone was furious, and that's why they clashed with Níngxiá Peak," Liú Zǐxù said while walking hurriedly alongside Nántáng.
Outer class disciples were taught by cultivators centrally assigned by the sect, so they merely addressed them as "Teacher". Only when they officially bowed into a specific immortal peak would they have a true master.
"Why would they suddenly deduct your Qi-Gathering Fruits for no reason? Is there no other hidden story?" Nántáng asked.
Liú Zǐxù paused, lowering his voice: "It’s because of Junior Sister Yè..."
After his explanation, Nántáng finally grasped the underlying cause. It turned out that an inner sect disciple from Níngxiá Peak, Lǐ Jīn, coveted the beauty of Class Bǐng's female cultivator Yè Gē. He tried every possible method to obtain her, but after being flatly rejected every time, he began to make things difficult for her. After the Class Bǐng disciples stood up for her a few times, he retaliated by making life hard for everyone in Class Bǐng.
In the cultivation realm, the strong reigned supreme. The distinction between superior and inferior inevitably brought massive conflicts. Even though Jiāng Zhǐ had repeatedly issued orders forbidding the strong from bullying the weak since taking over as Sect Leader, it was still impossible to eradicate such phenomena completely. The friction between the inner and outer sects ran deep.
Nántáng nodded to indicate she understood. Entering the Yùguān Hall, she immediately spotted the disciples kneeling in the center of the hall, with brambles strapped to their backs.
Only after exhausting all good words and wearing out her apologetic smiles did Nántáng manage to bring the people from Yùguān Peak back to the Zuòwàng Cottage (Zuòwàng Lú).
Class Bǐng only had twelve disciples in total, and those involved in the incident made up a full sixty percent. Now, all of them stood with hands hanging low before the teaching desk at Zuòwàng Cottage.
Nántáng's gaze swept over them one by one—they were all cultivators who had only entered the immortal gates a few years prior. Though they were kneeling, the youthful sharpness between their brows remained undiminished, reminding her of herself from many years ago.
She sighed secretly.
All of them were disciples who hadn't even passed the Qi Condensation stage. Their aptitudes were worse than the next, and their personalities varied wildly: there was the white-haired and bearded old cultivator like Liú Zǐxù; there was one cultivating with a blood feud weighing on his shoulders; and there was the lazy, slippery one who thought about nothing but making money all day...
"Regarding Níngxiá Peak deducting the spiritual fruits, why didn't you come discuss it with me first?" Nántáng opened her mouth to ask.
No one answered. After a long while, only Liú Zǐxù spoke up to smooth things over: "Junior Brothers didn't want Teacher to be put in a difficult position, and didn't want to bring trouble to Teacher, so they suppressed the matter."
Nántáng saw right through it in a glance: "So by causing a scene until you all got collectively punished at Yùguān Peak, I'm no longer in a difficult position?"
The cultivators below the desk avoided her eyes, each merely lowering their head to look at the ground. They had seen plenty of teachers like her. They kept benevolence and morality on their lips, but how many truly cared for them? Even coming to teach Class Bǐng was a reluctant compromise for her, let alone offending Níngxiá Peak for their sake. Seeking self-preservation and smoothing things over was their usual slippery tactic, not to mention this was the Sect Leader's wife, abandoned by the entire sect.
Nántáng was about to say something else when two more people suddenly landed outside the Zuòwàng Cottage. She had no choice but to stand up and greet them.
"This is Junior Brother Lù Zhuōchuān. Martial Aunt Yú should have met him before, and Senior Sister Yúnshān should have mentioned this matter to you previously. Starting today, Junior Brother Lù will remain in Class Bǐng to cultivate." The speaker was a disciple of Yùguān Peak, bringing a young boy over.
Nántáng pinched the bridge of her nose, looking at the youth before her, whose arms were crossed over his chest and whose eyes held not a shred of respect for a teacher. She felt a massive headache coming on. On the other hand, the other cultivators in the cottage were all clutching the doorframes and crowding the windows to peer at the newcomer. Upon hearing the name, they simultaneously let out low gasps of surprise.
Lù Zhuōchuān. That was a celebrity in Chóngxū Gōng. The seventh son of the Qīngxún Peak Lord. Born with extraordinary aptitude, he was originally a young genius upon whom Chóngxū Gōng had placed great hopes. Who would have expected that during the Immortal Trials last year, he’d get into a brawl with disciples from another sect, have his cultivation base crippled, and then get into a massive blowout fight with his father. The Qīngxún Peak Lord likely wanted to teach him a lesson, so he sent him here to endure hardship and be punished in order to correct his mindset.
Looking at the youth's indifferent, rebellious demeanor, Nántáng felt the Qīngxún Peak Lord's calculations were bound to fall through. A seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy, untamed and wild—how could he be so easily managed?
As for her... lately, her troubles were coming one after another, seemingly endless.
————
After taking in Lù Zhuōchuān, Nántáng scolded the Class Bǐng disciples a bit more, thinking to herself that she’d have to find time to go to Níngxiá Peak to properly settle this batch of Qi-Gathering Fruits.
With a mind full of tasks, Nántáng happened to pass by Lóngyuān (Dragon Abyss) on her way back from Zuòwàng Cottage, right when she bumped into Xià Huái leading two Daoist acolytes there to collect poisonous miasma.
"Martial Aunt," the two Daoist acolytes greeted her from a distance upon seeing her.
"What happened to this Snow Sheep (Xuěyáng)?" Nántáng nodded, looking at a spiritual beast cradled in one of the acolytes' arms.
Snow Sheep were raised within the sect for shearing wool to weave clothes. Only slightly larger than a Spiritual-Ear Rabbit, their horns were short and curved. Endearingly clumsy, they typically lived in extremely cold regions, hence the name Snow Sheep. Right now, the one in the acolyte's arms seemed to have already stopped breathing.
"This sheep was gluttonous and accidentally wandered into Lóngyuān, inhaling excessive miasma. It's beyond saving, so Martial Uncle Xià told us to bury it," the acolyte explained.
Nántáng gave an "Oh", then suddenly remembering something, she said, "Since you're going to bury it anyway, why not just give it to me?"
"What are you going to do with a dead sheep? It inhaled miasma and carries poison inside; it cannot be eaten." Xià Huái walked out from Lóngyuān. His lips and nose were covered by a black mask, making his voice sound deep and muffled.
"I have no intention of eating it!" Nántáng had already scooped the Snow Sheep into her arms, casually inspecting it. Perfect, no external injuries. "Alright, just leave it to me. Thanks, Senior Brother."
Before Xià Huái could even ask her clearly what she wanted a dead sheep for, he watched her rush off like a whirlwind, cradling the sheep.
————
The sun rose and the moon sank. Another day passed. Yúnchuān remained perpetually silent, broken only by the sound of the hall doors opening and closing.
Hearing the commotion, the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit's eyelids flickered, and it finally woke up.
"Finally opened your eyes!" A melodious voice rang out, and the Spiritual-Ear Rabbit subsequently met a pair of clear, bright eyes.
It seemed to freeze for a moment before remembering what had happened prior to falling into its weak slumber. It struggled to stand up, but the moment it exerted force on its front legs, they trembled. A piercing chill surged from all directions. It lowered its eyes, shocked to discover it was sprawled across an entire tray of ice blocks.
"Don't look so shocked. Who knows how long this rabbit has been dead? It even started rotting and growing maggots. I had no other choice but to chill you on ice. Since you're awake now, hurry up and tidy yourself, you need to switch bodies."
As she spoke, Nántáng patted another corpse lying on the ice blocks, a smug look in her eyes as she said, "No external wounds, not easy to decompose, can last you a few more days."
The Spiritual-Ear Rabbit turned its head, only to see a soft, round little baby lamb.
Was she really that certain he could possess other things?
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