Cultivating with Bragging System-Chapter 643 - 294: Three More Years, Three More Years!_1

「Several days later.」

Wang Xiu walked out of his house.

"WOOF!"

Yan Ji, who had been lying at the door, scrambled to her feet when she heard it open. Gazing at Wang Xiu, a hint of curiosity flashed in her eyes.

To her, her Master seemed different. He was still as handsome as ever, but something felt off. Perhaps it was his temperament, or maybe it was his eyes. They had grown deeper, like an abyss, so intimidating that one dared not meet his gaze for long, lest they be completely drawn in.

Wang Xiu patted Yan Ji's head and walked out of the courtyard. From a distance, he could already hear a clamor of activity. Spirit Turtle Peak was far livelier now than it had been in previous days.

The news of Wang Xiu's return had spread. Many Immortal Sects from the Southern Domain had sent envoys to pay him a visit. However, they had not been able to meet him, as Wang Xiu had been in seclusion.

Not only that, but many young and naive faces had appeared within the Sanqing Immortal Sect. These past few days happened to coincide with the sect's triennial recruitment assembly. Several thousand new disciples, selected through numerous arduous assessments, now looked around at the surrounding immortal peaks and clouds, their hearts filled with aspiration and excitement.

…

"Grandpa, Grandma, I finally fulfilled your dying wish! I was accepted into the Sanqing Immortal Sect!"

"SOB, SOB... As expected of the Sanqing Immortal Sect, even the air is filled with a unique Immortal Qi!"

"What about the Divination Sect? Where is the banner for the Divination Sect? I have to join the Divination Sect!"

"Me too! I came specifically for the Saint Heir. I have to get into the Divination Sect!"

"In your dreams! Ever since the Sanqing Saint Heir went missing, the Divination Sect hasn't recruited new disciples for sixty whole years!"

"But I heard the Saint Heir is back?"

"Even if the Saint Heir really has returned, do you seriously think you can become his disciple?"

"It's not impossible! Before I came, my family's ancestral grave caught on fire. I'm not talking about the usual offering smoke—the whole thing was ablaze! I think it's an auspicious sign!"

"..."

…

The new disciples chattered fervently, searching until their eyes nearly popped out, but they still couldn't find the Divination Sect's banner. Disappointment was written all over their faces.

"Looks like it's true. The Divination Sect isn't accepting anyone this year either!"

"Alas… my grandma told me she saw the Sanqing Saint Heir once in her youth. He was so handsome, like an immortal who had descended to the mortal realm! I wonder if I'll get to see him?"

"Your grandma saw the Sanqing Saint Heir? The real, living one?"

"Of course! It's said that decades ago when the Demon Race invaded and Vermilion Bird City was on the verge of falling, it was the Sanqing Saint Heir who turned the tide. My grandma was personally saved by him, and he even held her!"

DING!

[Detected someone boasting nearby. Congratulations, Host, for gaining Mana +1!]

"WOAH—"

A wave of astonished gasps and excited chatter swept through the crowd of young disciples.

Wang Xiu was just passing by. He hadn't intended to startle anyone and was just taking a look, but he nearly stumbled when he overheard the conversation. He touched his nose and glanced at the girl who was speaking.

His powerful Divine Soul granted him a prodigious memory. He could recall events from decades ago in perfect detail with just a moment of thought. He had saved many people during that battle. He vaguely remembered a woman whose features did bear some resemblance to the girl who was now speaking. But he was certain they hadn't exchanged a single word. He had, at most, sent her out of the danger zone with a casual wave of his hand.

How did it turn into this story?

Wang Xiu didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but he kept his silence. After observing quietly for a few more moments, he turned and left.

…

On the mountainside, shrouded in mist and clouds, stood a serene, ancient pavilion. The intermittent, soothing notes of a guqin drifted from within.

Wang Xiu walked up slowly. Seeing the graceful figure seated and playing the instrument, he smiled. "I've known you for so many years, Senior Sister Xiao, yet I never realized you were so skilled with the guqin. How remiss of me!"

Xiao Qingyu was slightly startled. She turned and said, "Junior Brother Wang Xiu, you're out of seclusion!"

Wang Xiu nodded.

"I just play a little in my spare time to vent my frustrations," Xiao Qingyu explained. "It's nothing special."

Wang Xiu studied her face. She was still breathtakingly beautiful, her skin as delicate as a young woman's in her twenties. She looked exactly as she had when they first met. Only now, she seemed more mature, carrying a commanding presence. The weight of a heavy burden now rested on her delicate shoulders.

"Senior Sister, you've worked hard all these years," Wang Xiu said sincerely.

Xiao Qingyu paused for a moment, understanding his meaning. She replied with feigned ease, "Ah, what can you do? I promised you back then, and later I promised Master, so I had to see it through. But it's fine! I've long grown accustomed to these responsibilities anyway!"

"Let me play a song for you, Senior Sister," Wang Xiu suggested. "It might help you relax."

Xiao Qingyu's eyes curved into a crescent-moon smile. "Oh? Has my Junior Brother finally grown up and learned how to dote on his Senior Sister? Fine, then I'll indulge myself today!"

Wang Xiu sat down before the guqin. Xiao Qingyu sat on a nearby stone bench, leaning against a pillar with her cheek propped in her hand, her gaze fixed on him.

Everything fell silent, save for the gentle whisper of the wind. It rustled through the pines, the sound rising and falling in waves—a perfect prelude.

The music from the guqin soon began to flow, melodious and soothing, like a clear mountain spring that refreshed the soul. He had promised to help her relax, and so the music was purely for that purpose. He didn't play the Tribulation-Passing Immortal Melody; it wasn't necessary. But with his mastery of the guqin, even a simple, calming tune could produce an effect that bordered on the Dao.

The ancient pavilion, the soughing of the pines, the gentle breeze, and the two of them—one playing, one listening—formed a scene of utter beauty and tranquility.

When the last note faded, the sound of soft snores reached Wang Xiu's ears. Xiao Qingyu had fallen fast asleep, leaning against the pillar.