The sky had just brightened when the spell Yu Zhiling set before sleep abruptly exploded with a loud noise. The small orb by her bed transformed into a phantom rooster, clucking and flapping onto her embroidered quilt, scratching her several times with its claws.
"Your Majesty, wake up! Your Majesty, it's time to rise! The affairs of the state await your attention. Your ministers are already in position—please cease your dreams at once!"
"Sleep in moderation—it's time to work! Get up and earn your merit points!"
Yu Zhiling clutched her head in agony.
She had stayed up late talking with Yan Shanqing the night before, and now she was severely sleep-deprived.
The spell-summoned rooster pranced all over her, kicking her several times.
After the rooster repeated its pre-set lines over a dozen times, Yu Zhiling finally sat up, her hair tousled from the night. She rubbed her head and waved her hand, dispersing the phantom rooster spirit.
She glanced outside—dawn had just broken, the sky still somewhat gloomy. The Listening Spring Cliff stood too high, shrouded in mist as the sun rose in the east.
It wasn’t even Chenshi (7-9 AM) yet, but she was already awake. Today, she would absolutely not be late!
Yu Zhiling rubbed her face, threw off the covers, and jumped out of bed. She washed up and tied her hair in a hurry, grabbed a fresh robe from the wardrobe, and rushed out with her sword manual in hand.
The moment she pushed open the courtyard gate, she spotted the young man standing beneath the tree.
He seemed to have been there for a while, his dark hair dusted with dew. Dressed in his usual black robes with a high ponytail, his expression was calm and composed. Hearing the gate open, he lifted his gaze toward her.
She couldn’t help but recall their unpleasant parting the night before.
Just as Yu Zhiling was searching for an excuse to speak, Mo Zhu beat her to it.
"Master."
Since he didn’t bring up yesterday’s incident, it seemed he wasn’t planning to dwell on it. Relieved, Yu Zhiling bounded forward eagerly. "How long have you been here?"
Mo Zhu replied evenly, "Not long. About a quarter of an hour."
Yu Zhiling thought to herself—this little inkblot was truly capable! A talented, hardworking protagonist like him made a master’s job so much easier.
With a grin, she pressed a candy into his hand. "Peach-flavored. Very sweet."
Mo Zhu glanced at the sugar-coated treat. She had given him one last time too, but he hadn’t eaten it yet. Now here was another.
"Mn. Thank you, Master."
He didn’t refuse, simply tucking it into his Qiankun pouch.
Yu Zhiling wasn’t bothered. She waved the sword manual in her hand. "Still the Yingshan Sect’s secret techniques. You’ve reached the third layer, right?"
Mo Zhu nodded. "Yes."
Yu Zhiling unfolded the manual for him to see. "Yesterday, I annotated some of the trickier parts of the fourth layer. Today, I’ll practice with you. If there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask me anytime."
As she spoke, she leaned in slightly, her head nearly brushing his shoulder. Mo Zhu glanced down, catching only the simple pearl hairpin and silver hairpin in her hair. His thoughts drifted unexpectedly.
She hadn’t worn peony-patterned robes in a long time. Nor had she adorned herself with intricate hairpins or heavy makeup.
How long had it been?
Ever since he returned to the Yingshan Sect, she had always dressed in plain, elegant green robes. Sometimes her hair was tied up with just a jade hairpin, other times with a few small pearl ornaments—never any rouge.
Had her habits changed so much after losing her memories?
Yu Zhiling chattered on about the lesson she had prepared the night before, but when no response came, she paused and frowned. Only then did she realize—
Mo Zhu had zoned out.
Mo Zhu… zoned out?
The key point was—this was Mo Zhu!
Yu Zhiling couldn’t believe it. This kid was mature and steady beyond his years, exuding an air of scholarly diligence. Who would’ve thought he’d ever space out?
Before she could react, Mo Zhu’s gaze shifted from her hairpin down to her upturned face.
She blinked, her dark eyes bright, her pupils reflecting nothing but him. "What… are you looking at?"
Mo Zhu snapped back to reality, realizing he had indeed been distracted.
"Nothing." He averted his eyes. "Master, it’s getting late."
Yu Zhiling narrowed her eyes.
This brat, acting all shy. It was normal for kids his age to lose focus sometimes. As a responsible teacher, she’d just have to call on him more during lessons.
She had already planned today’s sword practice the night before—this was her chance to solidify her image as a proper master!
Half an hour later.
Yu Zhiling sat on a small stool, mechanically munching on melon seeds, her expression deadpan as she watched the black-robed youth in the forest.
Clad in fitted black robes that accentuated his lean yet powerful frame, the boy’s hair ribbon fluttered as his sword danced like a swift dragon. His movements were fluid, each flourish precise—as if he had practiced this manual a hundred times before.
If Yu Zhiling hadn’t seen him read the scroll right in front of her, she’d have sworn he’d trained in advance.
Suddenly, the dark figure in the forest stilled. The young man stood lazily, lowering his head to examine the sword in his right hand.
Yu Zhiling hurriedly stuffed the melon seeds away.
Was this it? Was he stuck?
Now was her chance to shine as a master!
Her eyes gleamed with anticipation as she stared at Mo Zhu.
Mo Zhu met her gaze—then suddenly, the corners of his lips curled into a faint smile.
A black shadow flashed before her. The glint of a sword shot straight for her face. Yu Zhiling blinked, and the tip of his blade was already inches away.
She drew her Zhuding Sword in a swift motion, blocking his strike.
The young man leaped back gracefully, his voice calm. "Master, I’ve memorized the fourth volume. Why not test me in a spar?"
Oh ho—practical application!
Yu Zhiling grinned. "Sure!"
Practice was the only way to test true understanding. After teaching the theory, it was time to challenge him with real combat. Her moves would be his exam.
As the Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, the most powerful cultivator in the Central Plains, Yu Zhiling held back her lethal techniques, focusing only on matching his level.
What surprised her even more was how effortlessly Mo Zhu kept up. No matter how she pressed him, he remained composed, his breathing steady, not a single flush on his face.
Yu Zhiling grew more and more engrossed, her swordplay intensifying like a storm—completely missing the darkening look in Mo Zhu’s eyes.
With a light flick, Mo Zhu parried her final strike, then leaped back to create distance.
"Master, I’ve learned much."
The moment their eyes met, the mechanical voice echoed in Yu Zhiling’s mind once more.
[Ding. The male protagonist has mastered the Yingshan Sect’s secret technique, fourth layer. Host’s merit points +30. Current merit points: 350. Keep up the good work.]
He had comprehended the fourth layer.
Yu Zhiling’s hands trembled with excitement.
Heavens, at this rate, she wouldn’t need ten years to accumulate enough merit points to leave!
Suppressing her glee, she nodded solemnly. "Not bad. Your comprehension is excellent. Keep it up."
She stepped forward and pressed another candy into his hand.
This time, it was sugarcane flavor.
Mo Zhu: "…"
Was she… treating him like a child?
Having fulfilled her duties as a proper master, Yu Zhiling turned and strode away, leaving no trace of her achievements behind.
"One must not overexert themselves in cultivation. Today, you should consolidate this volume of sword techniques again—no need to rush into the fifth level. Your master is just outside the woods; call if you need anything."
Mo Zhu: "…………"
When the dense forest was empty, Mo Zhu's expression turned cold and detached as he stared into the uninhabited woods.
He had just tested it—different people wielded swords with varying intensity, and their comprehension of sword techniques differed as well. Even the same sword in one person's hands could unleash different sword intent and lethality depending on the wielder's state of mind.
In the past, he had seen Yu Zhiling execute moves, though not with the Zhuging Sword but with a wooden one. Yet her strikes were ruthless, each aimed at vital points, her sword intent sharp and unyielding.
But just now, even when Yu Zhiling held back her strength, the essence of her swordplay couldn’t be concealed. Her sword intent was firm yet supple, a reflection of her inner state.
Her swordplay…
Felt familiar.
Yu Zhiling had shifted her routine from waking at Chenshi (7-9 AM) to Maoshi (5-7 AM). Every day, the moment she opened her eyes, she headed straight to the dense forest to watch Mo Zhu practice his swordplay. After the disciples delivered meals, she would linger at the forest entrance.
"Immortal Lord, today’s meal is steamed crab."
Yu Zhiling, who had been dozing off, jolted awake.
The disciple set the meal tray on the table, and Yu Zhiling was already seated, bamboo chopsticks in hand.
The table and stool had been specially crafted by Yan Shanqing, knowing that Yu Zhiling spent her days sitting here. The disciples had grown accustomed to setting up her meals for her.
Yu Zhiling cheerfully handed the disciple a small pouch of candies. "Thank you!"
"Many thanks, Immortal Lord."
The disciple had long grown used to receiving sweets from Immortal Lord Zhuoyu—both at lunch and dinner. He no longer feared her, finding the rumors about her utterly absurd.
How could Immortal Lord Zhuoyu be some fierce, intimidating sword cultivator? She was clearly the most easygoing person in the Yingshan Sect, her smile bright as a sunflower, her eyes and brows always brimming with warmth.
As the disciple left, the rustling sounds from the dense forest were impossible to ignore, the overwhelming aura within impossible to overlook.
He sighed inwardly—Immortal Lord Zhuoyu had truly changed. The first thing she did after leaving seclusion was summon her only disciple back, accompanying him day and night, rising before dawn to practice swordplay, sitting there until the stars emerged.
Immortal Lord Zhuoyu…
Was a good master.
The "good master" Yu Zhiling was currently peeling crab, tears of joy practically dripping from the corners of her mouth as she cracked the shells.
"Wahhh, I’ve already reached 500 merit points?"
The moment she spoke, another voice echoed in her mind.
[Ding—Male protagonist has mastered the eighth level of Yingshan’s secret techniques. Host gains +30 merit points. Current merit: 530. Keep up the good work.]
Yu Zhiling wailed even louder.
Fifteen minutes later, the moment Mo Zhu stepped out of the forest, she pulled him down to sit, pushing a plate piled high with peeled crab meat toward him.
"Good disciple, you must be exhausted. Eat up and replenish your energy."
Mo Zhu: "…"
For half a month now, despite being dead tired, she had forced herself to adapt to his schedule—rising at Maoshi, waiting outside the woods as he practiced, sometimes even deliberately demonstrating sword techniques to help him grasp them. Every time he mastered a new sword manual, he would emerge to find her eyes sparkling with excitement.
As if…
The higher his cultivation, the happier she became.
Mo Zhu glanced at Yu Zhiling, who was now cheerfully sipping porridge.
Her appetite was absurdly robust for an immortal who had long transcended mortal sustenance.
"What are you staring at? Eat before it gets cold."
Yu Zhiling nudged the food closer to him.
Mo Zhu snapped out of his thoughts. "Mn."
After two weeks of her relentless urging, he had slowly grown accustomed to regular meals. Where he once went months without eating, he now never missed a single meal.
They ate in silence. Mo Zhu’s dining manners were refined, his movements elegant—almost picturesque.
Yu Zhiling stole a sidelong glance, swallowing a mouthful of porridge before tentatively speaking. "Mo Zhu, do you remember when I said I’d help you break the curse?"
Mo Zhu paused.
A beat later, he resumed eating, replying with a neutral, "Mn."
Yu Zhiling hesitated, but seeing no sign of anger, she steeled herself. "The Divine Wood Sprout is with the Zhongli Family. You know the Zhongli’s Spirit Music Banquet is coming up, right? Every year, the banquet requires an Immortal Alliance elder to oversee the opening ceremony. This time, I’ll discuss with the other two elders and arrange for me to preside over it."
Mo Zhu cut in flatly, "Master, are you unaware of the feud between the Zhongli Family and the Yingshan Sect? The Spirit Music Banquet is their most important event—they’ve never invited you before."
Yu Zhiling’s eyes curved into crescents. "No need to worry about that. Your master has her own methods. This time, I’ll definitely attend. And since you’re my personal disciple, you’ll naturally accompany me."
She spoke as if obtaining the Divine Wood Sprout was already guaranteed.
Mo Zhu’s throat moved slightly, unsure whether to laugh at her naivety or her arrogance.
Even if she managed to attend the banquet, how did she plan to ask the Zhongli Family for the Divine Wood Sprout?
Mo Zhu scoffed inwardly.
He lowered his gaze and sipped his porridge, lazily muttering, "Mn. Thank you, Master."
He really ought to thank her.
The Zhongli Family…
He had planned to go there anyway.
