Chapter 102: ran's Teacher, Green Bamboo Fishing
"Master, you’ve finally co out!"
"How did it go? Did you settle things with the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion? Do we have news on the Ink Chill Tower? Are we going to fetch reinforcents and wipe them out in one fell swoop?"
It wasn't until the sky had darkened into a bruised purple that Qin ran finally erged from the pavilion. Tang Bizhu, who had been waiting for half the day, imdiately sward her with eager questions.
But as she prattled on, Tang Bizhu sensed sothing was wrong.
"Master... you... what is wrong?"
She noticed that her master, usually so poised and haughty, looked hollow. Qin ran seed absent-minded, her spirit wandering elsewhere. One hand was clenched white-knuckled around a letter.
Tang Bizhu was bewildered. Hadn't Master gone to investigate the Ink Chill Tower? Why did she look as if soone had stabbed her straight through the heart?
"Bizhu, how long has it been since you beca my disciple?" Qin ran asked suddenly, her voice faint.
"It has been thirty years now."
"Thirty years... ti truly flies," Qin ran murmured, staring at nothing. "Thirty years ago, when you first ca to Ink Scroll Peak, you were respectful, cautious, and careful in your every action. Now, after just thirty years, you have changed so much..."
The comnt startled Tang Bizhu. She hurriedly knelt on the cobblestones. "Master, please forgive ! This disciple has overstepped again!"
"It is fine. It is fine." Qin ran shook her head slowly, her eyes unfocused. "Three years is enough to make an optimistic, smiling person lose their spring breeze smile and beco silent and withdrawn. let alone the changes wrought by thirty years..."
Tang Bizhu remained kneeling, confused. She stole a glance upward and froze.
Qin ran’s fair face was as pale as paper. Under the cold moonlight, tears seed to shimr in her eyes, threatening to fall. But before Tang Bizhu could look closer, Qin ran turned away.
She refused to show such a pathetic side to her disciple.
Earlier, inside the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion, Wan Xiaobei had pestered her relentlessly about Gu Xiu. In the past, Qin ran might have felt a surge of pride at hearing her junior brother praised. But this ti, every word Wan Xiaobei spoke felt like being roasted over a slow fire.
In her mind, a voice surfaced unbidden, crossing the river of ti to whisper in her ear.
“Senior Sister, although the path of cultivation is long and arduous, if you can always smile and have the spring breeze accompany you, I believe no hardship is insurmountable.”
“It’s just that your progress in the Dao of Talismans has stalled. Smile more. Frowning and looking miserable isn’t pretty.”
“Today, let's make a promise before this stone, shall we?”
“From now on, I shall laugh with the spring breeze, and live as an immortal of longevity in the mortal world!”
“It’s settled. Neither of us can lose the smile on our faces. Whoever loses it, loses!”
The voice from five hundred years ago was spirited, optimistic, and fearless—as if even the collapse of the sky could not daunt him.
Now, that mory was a blade, slicing her heart into ribbons.
It hurt. It hurt because she couldn't rember the last ti he smiled.
She had clung to the image of that carefree junior brother, the one who could sweep away all gloom and pull her out of despair. She had relied on his strength, assuming he would always be that way.
She had forgotten that the optimistic boy had long since ceased to be optimistic.
He had fallen into the frost, and what had she done? She had watched coldly from the sidelines. She had added stones to the well he was drowning in. When the disciples of Ink Scroll Peak bullied him, she had pretended not to see.
Even worse...
“Senior Sister, regarding the Divine Invocation, you must not be impatient. Just wait patiently for the flowers to bloom. Even if Senior Sister truly cannot achieve Divine Invocation, your junior brother has a way to help you!”
The white-haired Gu Xiu had said this to her, long ago.
But she had never taken it to heart. She had dismissed it as the rambling of a cripple. She had treated his sincerity as a joke.
At this mont, even though Qin ran tried to remind herself that Gu Xiu bore the grudge of severing her Dao, the cognitive dissonance was deafening. She could no longer convince her own heart.
A profound fear gripped her. She couldn't articulate what she was afraid of—or perhaps, she simply didn't dare to admit it.
"Master, your disciple has sothing to report!"
Tang Bizhu’s voice broke through the suffocating silence.
Qin ran blinked, slowly returning to reality. "What is it?"
"Your disciple saw a person in the city earlier."
"What person?"
"Your teacher."
"What?" Qin ran stunned. Her eyes widened. "Who did you say you saw?"
"I saw a person who looked very familiar," Tang Bizhu said hesitantly, gauging her master's reaction. "His aura was very similar to yours, Master. I observed him from a distance and realized... that person's appearance is extrely similar to the portrait hanging in your study on Ink Scroll Peak..."
Qin ran’s heart hamred against her ribs.
Her Master was Guan Xuelan, the Mahayana Supre of the Azure Mystic Sacred Land. But she had another teacher—the man she called 'Teacher,' who had guided her into the Dao of Talismans.
That teacher had disappeared ages ago. Qin ran had searched for him for over a hundred years to no avail. She had assud he had perished in so forgotten ruin.
And now...
"Where is he?" Qin ran demanded, her voice trembling.
"This... your disciple doesn't know the exact location. But he was heading toward the southern district, as if searching for sothing."
"The Southern District?"
Qin ran’s eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze toward the southern part of Cloud Firmant City.
anwhile, in a narrow alley in the Southern District.
A middle-aged Confucian scholar stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowed deeply. He stared intently at a crumbling talisman in his hand.
"Damn it, why is it broken again?"
The scholar’s face twisted in gloom. "Why does my seventh-grade Dao Rhy tracking only lead to the south before vanishing completely? Is there so force interfering?"
His gaze swept the surroundings. It was a remote, dirty alley with nothing of note. Even when he mobilized his powerful perception as a Talisman Master, he found nothing.
He was perplexed. He had been in Cloud Firmant City for days. He possessed secret thods and was confident he could uncover the source of the "Homage of Ten Thousand Rhys."
Yet, no matter how he searched, he ended up running in circles.
"Damn it. More and more people from the Azure Mystic Sacred Land are arriving," he muttered, anxiety gnawing at him. "If I can't find the source soon, once that Sword Immortal Gu Xiu arrives in person, I'll have no chance to turn things around!"
"Damn it! Damn it all!"
He assud Gu Xiu was coming to claim the treasure, never suspecting that the "treasure" he sought was Gu Xiu himself.
While the scholar cursed in the alley, Gu Xiu was busy elsewhere.
He sat quietly in his courtyard, holding the Green Bamboo Rod.
Since he had fished up the Black Monkey Corpse Abandonnt, the rod had been in a cooldown state. Now, the mysterious energy had returned.
Gu Xiu would never miss such an opportunity.
He gathered his spiritual energy into a thin, invisible line and flicked the rod. The hook vanished into the void.
Cast. Wait.
Learning from his previous experience with the monkey corpse, Gu Xiu settled in, prepared for a long wait. Patience was a virtue he had in abundance.
However, the mont he prepared to ditate, the rod tip dipped heavily.
A catch already?
Gu Xiu raised an eyebrow. He didn't hesitate, flicking his wrist to retrieve the line.
As the object materialized in his hand, Gu Xiu froze.
"This thing..." He stared at the object. "How did it co back?"
At that exact mont, celestial music resonated from the heavens.
Gu Xiu pushed open the door and stepped into the courtyard. Above, the phenonon that had appeared days ago—the Immortal Gate—manifested once more.
But this ti, the gate was not positioned over Cloud Firmant City. It hovered in the distant sky, directly above the direction of the Azure Mystic Sacred Land.
Soone at the peak of Foundation Establishnt had condensed a perfect Golden Core.
Gu Xiu didn't need to guess. There was only one person it could be.
Jiang Xun.
Gu Xiu looked up at the celebratory vision in the sky, then looked down at the object he had just fished from the void.
His expression turned incredibly strange.
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