Nanshan Temple, back mountain.

It wasn’t until a full half an hour after Song Yan and Ju Luyi had left that a figure slowly emerged from the woods.

...

His body swayed, his limbs were stiff, and he stumbled as he walked.

He was out of breath after only a few steps.

His face was pale and bloodless, and there was a fatal wound on his chest, where the blood had already congealed.

He practically crawled on all fours to the front of where Song Yan had buried the Nanshan Temple Disciples.

It was not a young face; his once distinct features were now painfully contorted.

His expression was one of unbearable grief, yet not a single tear could fall.

He wanted to roar in sorrow, but no sound escaped him.

His hands slammed heavily onto the ground, gripping the dirt fiercely, so hard that his knuckles cracked.

After a long while, he despairingly raised his head, gazed at the sky, and stared blankly.

...

If Song Yan were here, he would undoubtedly be incredibly surprised.

Because this person was none other than Lu Yuan, the Abbot of Nanshan Temple, who had already ’died and had his Dao extinguished’.

However, his current appearance had not a trace of a living person’s aura.

His limbs were stiff, his gaze was unfocused, his internal organs had already failed, and naturally, he had no pulse.

Instead, he resembled a Corpse Puppet.

How did he die?

He forgot.

How did he survive?

He forgot that too.

Only vaguely, he heard someone’s murmuring in his ear, but he couldn’t hear it clearly.

But he still remembered the Disciples of his temple, those vibrant faces, waiting for him to return.

Yet, when he returned to the temple, all that remained were corpses scattered across the ground.

A-Hao, Xiao Lian, A-Ming... his beloved juniors, the hope of Nanshan Temple, not a single one survived.

How could this be?

How could it be like this!?

He wanted to fight those three to the death, but there was always a strange power preventing him.

Like a wooden Puppet on strings.

It wasn’t until Song Yan appeared... He sat silently before the cenotaph the young man had erected for him.

Song Yan was right; he couldn’t remember who this young man was at all.

After thinking for a long time, with his current wooden brain, he couldn’t find any impression.

...

After an unknown amount of time, he struggled to his feet.

He bowed in Song Yan’s direction.

Then, he stumbled down the mountain, eventually disappearing towards the northwest... Wen Dao Gorge, Danqing Courtyard.

Due to the trend of the Dao Child’s former residence, the Danqing Courtyard was now crowded with people.

A young girl with a childish face was sprawled on a messy ink painting, sound asleep.

Her Daoist robe was too loose for her; she folded her two sleeves together to use as a pillow.

Beside her stood another female Disciple; if Song Yan were here, he would recognize her as Xiang Zhaoling.

Xiang Zhaoling held a brush, drawing and writing on the girl’s face, occasionally covering her mouth to snicker.

"Mmm..."

The sleeping girl twitched her nose, feeling a little ticklish, "Ah... Achoo!"

"Stinky Ling’er, what are you doing?"

She raised her fair little hand and smeared her face wildly, getting ink from the painting all over her Daoist robe sleeves, which made Xiang Zhaoling burst into laughter.

"I finally got some sleep... I just had an interesting dream, and you interrupted it again, it’s all your fault."

She quickly lay back down, taking advantage of the lingering sleepiness.

She tried to continue her sweet dream from earlier.

"Senior Sister Zhou, why are you always sleeping and sleeping without stopping? It’s so boring." Xiang Zhaoling sat down beside the girl, propping her face in her hand, watching her hazy sleeping face.

"Don’t call me Senior Sister anymore; Master said I might be kicked to the outer sect in a few months."

The girl mumbled sleepily.

"Ah?"

Xiang Zhaoling looked surprised and a little annoyed; she grabbed the girl’s shoulders and shook her for a long time.

"Don’t sleep anymore!"

"You’ve been in the sect for three years and you’re only at Qi Cultivation seventh layer. It’s all because you sleep all day!"

The girl made a bitter face, rubbing her eyes: "I don’t want to either, but not getting enough sleep is too uncomfortable."

"And dreaming is also very interesting. Compared to them, Cultivating is really... really..."

"Ha... too boring!"

"I was born to love sleeping, you say... if there was a method of Cultivating in dreams, how wonderful would that be!"

The girl’s name was Zhou Mengdie, and like Xiang Zhaoling, she was a Disciple of Lianyou Peak.

"How could that be possible..."

Xiang Zhaoling rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Don’t bother me anymore, let me sleep a little longer... Aren’t you here in the Central Plains to find a man? Go on, go find a husband quickly, don’t disturb my sweet dreams."

"Hehe, don’t you mention it, I met a cute and interesting Senior Brother before."

"Is... is that so... how is he cute and interesting..."

Zhou Mengdie was almost asleep again, her words slurred.

"He’s clearly very good at finding the right moment to kill people and silence them, but he doesn’t dare to face me directly, so he must be quite shy..."

"Ah?!"

The girl suddenly sat up from the table, her big, watery eyes wide with disbelief as she looked at Xiang Zhaoling, all sleepiness gone.

"Kill, kill, kill... killed someone?"

Xiang Zhaoling smiled sweetly and nodded at her.

"Where... where is that cute? Killing and fighting, where is that cute? It’s too terrifying... Let’s report him to the authorities and have him arrested..."

"Hahaha..."

Xiang Zhaoling was amused again by Zhou Mengdie’s flustered expression.

"Senior Sister Zhou, why are you so timid? No matter what Dao you Cultivate, all paths lead to the same destination."

"If someone wants to kill you, how can you not kill them? That’s just how the world is."

Xiang Zhaoling’s sweet smile formed a strong contrast with the words coming out of her mouth.

"Wuwah, the world really is sinister..."

Zhou Mengdie clutched her head, trembling with fear: "No more Cultivating Immortals, no more Cultivating Immortals! Once Master demotes me to the outer sect, I’ll find an excuse to go down the mountain and never come back."

Xiang Zhaoling pouted: "Master dotes on you the most; demoting you to the outer sect, I think he’s just saying it."

"Really...?"

Zhou Mengdie paused, then vaguely scratched her cheek and asked, "But Cultivating Immortals is so dangerous."

Xiang Zhaoling chuckled: "Oh, it’s fine, no big deal, you can come back to Southern Xinjiang with me, I’ll protect you."

"In another half a year, the Sword Wiping Assembly will begin. After it ends, the Disciples of the sect can go down the mountain to travel. I’ll take you to Southern Xinjiang to play!"

"Okay... okay." Zhou Mengdie was still a little hazy: "Then do you have a flying Spiritual Artifact?"

"Uh... no."

"Then do you have confidence to win first place in the next Sword Wiping Assembly?"

"What are the benefits of getting first place?"

"I heard there are very powerful Medicinal Pill rewards, and you can choose many things. There should be flying Spiritual Artifacts among them, so we won’t have to walk."

"Very powerful Medicinal Pill, what kind of Medicinal Pill is that?"

Xiang Zhaoling didn’t care about the flying Spiritual Artifact, but seemed a little interested in the Medicinal Pill.

"I don’t know." Zhou Mengdie shook her head.

"No, then where did you learn all these things?"

"I..." Zhou Mengdie’s scratching finger paused on her cheek; she thought for a long time.

"I forgot."

"It seems I dreamed it."