Chapter 48: The Passing of Spring
When the three disciples from Han Shan heard someone on the other side say, “There’s a ghost in the river,” they couldn’t help but feel complicated emotions. Thinking of what they had done recently, they sneaked a glance at Meng Xueli.
Their acting skills might have improved, but their skin wasn’t thick enough to hide their embarrassment, which showed clearly on their faces.
Meng Xueli blinked his round eyes innocently.
He had only robbed storage pouches and jade tokens—he hadn’t taken any lives. According to the rules, cultivators who lost their jade tokens would be disqualified from the competition and could leave the secret realm via the teleportation array the next day. Where did this claim about “no one ever returning from Flying Sword Gorge” come from? It must’ve been an intentional exaggeration from the other side, trying to scare him.
Seeing this, Jing Di mistakenly thought that the four from Han Shan really were in trouble and needed more people to protect Meng Xueli.
“Since we’ll be traveling together, we should get to know each other, let’s start with this one—he’s our team’s formation array master.”
His tone was warm and familiar, naturally shifting from “you and I” to “we,” while motioning for his teammates to introduce themselves.
With their own team leader harboring ulterior motives, the teammates naturally cooperated, showing enthusiasm and friendliness toward Meng Xueli.
The array master: “My name is Liu Jing. I’m the third disciple under the head of Wuyin Sect. I major in formation-crafting and minor in divination techniques.”
He had a scholarly and refined air, like a well-read gentleman.
Jing Di added, “Junior Brother Liu has recently been obsessed with researching the ‘Soul Summoning Array.’ He’s always talking about ghosts and spirits—please don’t mind him.”
Meng Xueli was intrigued. “Is there really such a thing as a ‘Soul Summoning Array’? One that can summon the souls of the deceased?”
Liu Jing answered, “There will be.”
Jing Di then turned to the next young man. “This is our team’s alchemist, named Zheng Mu. He’s a lay disciple of Nanling Temple and a student of the abbot. He majors in alchemy and minors in the Vajra Tiger-Taming Fist.”
Zheng Mu smiled kindly. “I dare not claim such a title. Only after experiencing the tempering of worldly trials and enduring storms and hardship can one formally take vows and become a disciple of the abbot.”
Meng Xueli responded with a smile, “That is indeed the custom of Nanling Temple. I’ve heard as much.”
After introducing the two, the atmosphere became increasingly friendly. Before Jing Di could speak again, a female cultivator with willow-leaf eyebrows and almond-shaped eyes stepped forward. “I’m Song Qianyi, a disciple of Daoist Master Qinghe from Songfeng Valley. If Elder Meng or the three senior brothers from Han Shan have any lingering injuries, I can take a look.”
Meng Xueli replied, “Thank you for your kindness.”
The last to speak was a burly beast tamer. “I’m Xu Sanshan, disciple of the Beast Taming Sect Master of Beiming Mountain. This white tiger is my bonded spirit beast!”
The white tiger beside him was as tall as a grown man. Its fur was snow-white with gray markings, and its golden eyes gleamed—it looked majestic and fierce.
Meng Xueli said, “It’s beautiful.”
The white tiger tilted its head and sniffed at Meng Xueli.
Xu Sanshan couldn’t help but beam with pride. “No need to be afraid, Elder Meng. This tiger is extremely intelligent. I’ll have it carry you!”
Meng Xueli reached out to pet it, but the white tiger whimpered softly, lowered its head, and suddenly backed away two steps, dodging his touch.
Xu Sanshan felt embarrassed and leaned in to whisper in the tiger’s ear, “What’s wrong with you, be good!”
Meng Xueli smiled considerately. “If it doesn’t want to, that’s perfectly fine. No need to force it.”
No one could bring themselves to strike someone who smiled so kindly. Though the three Han Shan disciples still remained cautious of Jing Di—thinking, “Anyone acting so friendly for no reason must be up to something”—they warmed up a bit to the other four. The array master was refined, the alchemist was gentle, and the beast tamer was straightforward.
Especially the junior sister from Songfeng Valley, Song Qianyi—she looked gentle and quiet. How did she end up associating with someone like Jing Di?
You couldn’t blame them for changing their attitude so quickly. Most sword cultivators’ life goals—aside from seeking the Dao—included finding a gentle medical cultivator to travel with.
Jing Di knew the three from Han Shan didn’t trust him. To show his sincerity in traveling together, he took the lead and got to work. Their five-man team entered the forest, chopped down sturdy green bamboo, and tied it into a large raft.
Everyone boarded the raft and sat cross-legged. Jing Di released a burst of sword energy, sending the raft drifting into the rushing river.
Flying Sword Gorge was deep and winding, and the current was swift. But with formation spells protecting the raft, they sailed smoothly through waves and wind. Not a single drop of water touched anyone aboard.
“With us here, Elder Meng need not worry about safety. We’ll follow the river downstream to Central City, allowing Elder Meng to enjoy the scenery along the way. There’s not much to see in Flying Sword Gorge, but once we reach the most scenic part—Cloudmist Gorge—I’ll personally ferry you across,” Jing Di said cheerfully. At the same time, he pulled out a wine jar he carried with him. “Fine weather, beautiful views, good wine—Elder Meng, treat this like a spring outing in Hanhai Secret Realm. Isn’t that delightful?”
Meng Xueli smiled. “Thanks for the thought. I don’t handle alcohol well—I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it properly.”
Jing Di didn’t insist. “Then let’s chat instead. The three of you used to misunderstand me—this is a great chance for us to clear things up and start fresh.”
His teammates were rolling their eyes internally. They knew full well their leader wasn’t truly interested in clearing the air with the Han Shan trio—he just didn’t want Meng Xueli to think badly of him. If he’d just said, “Let’s find a place to sit and drink and enjoy the view,” no one would’ve gone along with it. That’s why he came up with this whole bamboo raft plan.
Song Qianyi gave Meng Xueli a sympathetic glance.
The three from Han Shan also gave Jing Di a look full of pity.
Zhang Suyuan sent a voice transmission: “Elder Meng, with you here, Jing Di definitely won’t escape. But what about his teammates?”
Meng Xueli was a bit uncertain. “The people we robbed earlier all acted with bad intentions after seeing the storage pouch at my waist. But this time, these few didn’t even glance at my pouch—they just looked at my face. If they truly wanted to protect us, and we ended up repaying kindness with betrayal… that would be terrible.”
He Ming: “Honestly, I don’t think Sister Song is a bad person. Maybe she was tricked by Jing Di.”
Li Wei anxiously said, “But we still can’t let Jing Di get away with it!”
Meng Xueli replied, “I’ll probe them a little. If they really have ill intent, they’re bound to slip up.”
“Alright, we’ll follow your lead, Elder!”
Though the people on the bamboo raft had different thoughts, there was a strangely harmonious and peaceful air between them.
Jing Di assumed that since Meng Xueli had become Dao companion of the Sword Sovereign at sixteen and hadn’t left Changchun Peak in three years, he must know very little about the outside world and be filled with curiosity. So he began talking about secret realms, blending in his personal experiences, and went on to describe all sorts of wonders and rumors across the Three Realms.
He had traveled far and wide, was knowledgeable and articulate, with a witty and humorous tone. Gradually, everyone became absorbed in his stories.
Meng Xueli played the part of an attentive listener, nodding and smiling at the right moments. When the atmosphere was just right, he casually steered the conversation:
“I once heard about that time you traded a sword for wine. Sounds quite interesting—could I borrow your sword to take a look?”
Jing Di was taken aback. “You want to see my sword?”
“Is there some reason I can’t?”
Jing Di burst out laughing. Clearly, Meng Xueli didn’t understand what it meant to ask to see a sword from a sword cultivator. Without hesitation, he handed over the long sword. “This thing is sharp—careful not to hurt yourself.”
Clang!
Meng Xueli drew the sword from its sheath, and a bright flash of steel lit up his forehead. “So this is the Ice Mirror Jade Wheel? Truly an extraordinary divine weapon!”
For some unknown reason, the moment Jing Di saw the sword in Meng Xueli’s hands, a chill crept into his heart.
That strange, dangerous feeling faded quickly as Meng Xueli returned the sword to him.
The beast tamer suddenly asked, “Speaking of divine weapons—what exactly are ‘Weary of Rain’ and ‘Tired of Wind’ that the realm master mentioned? I’m really curious!”
The alchemist chimed in, “Or maybe they’re not weapons at all—perhaps they’re cultivation techniques?”
Meng Xueli cursed Hu Si silently, but kept a calm face. “The realm master was mistaken. ‘Weary of Rain’ and ‘Tired of Wind’? I’ve never even seen them. Before entering the secret realm, I hadn’t even heard of them.”
Everyone looked disappointed. Then Meng Xueli shifted gears: “However, my Dao partner did indeed forge a divine weapon that’s been passed down. It’s an unusual weapon named Hundred Generations of Time, crafted especially for me.”
The array master Liu Jing remarked, “Hundred Generations of Time paired with Endless Sky Sword—time and space, they do go together. Any idea where it is now?”
Meng Xueli smiled and summoned the long spear. His hands moved in a blur, flashes of silver gleamed in the air. He patiently demonstrated the many transformations of Hundred Generations of Time then handed it to Jing Di.
The three from Han Shan exchanged glances, tacitly understanding one another. The fate of the five on the other side would be decided by this moment.
Jing Di and his group held the strange weapon in their hands, examining it closely, passing it around one by one with exclamations of awe. They thought Meng Xueli was naïve and unaware of how the world worked, completely lacking any sense of caution. They exchanged secret voice transmissions among themselves.
The beast tamer, Xu Sanshan, said, “A miraculous weapon left by the Sword Sovereign—one of a kind in the world. This thing’s a true treasure, right? Jing Di, if you have any conscience, stop messing around with feelings. If we can just swindle this treasure away, we’ll break even on this trip.”
Jing Di smiled indifferently. “You’re not a martial cultivator, so you don’t get it. With weapons, it’s not about how many tricks they have—it’s about mastery. In martial cultivation, you must focus deeply. Practice one sword technique ten million times, and maybe then you’ve barely begun. Can someone really master long staff, spear, dual swords, and flying daggers all at once? Even if they’ve trained with all of them—can they really use them in real combat?”
The other four nodded in agreement.
Jing Di continued, “So, although this strange weapon is flashy and versatile, it’s more style than substance. It only impresses amateurs. Most likely the Sword Sovereign whipped it up casually to please his lover. Doesn’t really count as a treasure.”
“There’s a saying,” Song Qianyi chimed in gleefully, “‘The most useless things are the hardest to come by.’ If someone’s willing to put effort into making something useless, it proves how deep the bond is between Meng Xueli and the Sword Sovereign. Your odds aren’t looking great, huh?”
“I like a challenge,” Jing Di said with delight. “Seducing the Sword Sovereign’s widow… ah, it really satisfies my sense of conquest. After the Sword Sovereign passed, with the ‘spring’ gone from Changchun Peak, he’s spent lonely nights alone. Don’t you think he must be aching with solitude?”
Xu Sanshan shook his head. “Honestly, even my spirit beast has better morals than you.”
After finishing their secret discussion, Jing Di handed Hundred Generations of Time back to Meng Xueli, wearing a sincere smile. “Such a valuable item—better put it away quickly!”
Meng Xueli frowned slightly.
…….
Han Shan.
On Changchun Peak, the moonlight was like flowing water. The night was still and quiet.
Yu Qishu had fought twenty rounds in the arena during the day and, feeling no joy from victory, collapsed onto his bed in the bamboo house by the stream, sound asleep. He clutched his money mouse and slumbered without a care in the world.
He knew Xiao Tingyun would enter closed-door cultivation that night, and they wouldn’t see each other for the next three months. But he was too exhausted, couldn’t even lift a finger, let alone go wish him success.
After Meng Xueli left, everything on Changchun Peak remained the same. The warm breeze still smelled sweet, the peach blossoms still bloomed brightly, and the koi in the pond had grown another inch.
When Meng Xueli had been there, he often lounged on the soft couch beside the pond, chatting with the koi. The koi would wag their heads and tails, sending up sparkling droplets, as if they really understood him.
But now, Xiao Tingyun stood alone by the pond. The koi had all dived to the bottom, the surface of the water smooth and still, perfectly reflecting a crescent moon.
He said, “I’m going far away. Take good care of the place.”
The wind was still, the water deep, and all was silent.
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
