The Jiang Clan had cultivated for generations, accumulating some prestige over time, which made them rather self-important. However, they were not entirely reclusive. After Shu Fu left the estate with Fangfei, it took them only about three-quarters of an hour to reach the nearest town, named "Qingcheng."
Shu Fu was not a picky person, and Fangfei simply followed her without question, so the two casually found a clean inn to stay in for the night, planning to figure out their next steps later.
Only now could Shu Fu finally relax and carefully reflect on her past and present life.
Before her transmigration, she hadn’t been some influential figure—just an ordinary person from an average family who had steadily walked the path of life: college entrance exams, graduate school, employment, promotions, and climbing to the peak of her career. From naivety to experience, from nervousness to decisiveness, every step had been earned through hard work.
Though she hadn’t lived very long in the end, and her death had been rather absurd, as the saying goes: "The meaning of life lies not in its length, but in its breadth."
As for which famous person had said that, she wasn’t entirely sure.
In any case, Shu Fu had died young, leaving behind no husband or children, but she considered her life fulfilling, free, and without regrets.
Now that she had been reborn into a new world, her expectations for herself remained the same.
In her past life, Shu Fu had witnessed many grand scenes. She was not only knowledgeable and quick-witted but also an excellent actress, with a touch of chuunibyou she’d never admit to. Thus, slipping into her role in the Jiang Clan had been effortless.
However, if she wanted to establish herself in the cultivation world, she couldn’t rely solely on a sharp sword and a bit of acting.
She knew her own limits. Mountains could crumble, and people could fail—true freedom came only from self-reliance.
Fangfei, exhausted from the day’s excitement, fell into a deep sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Shu Fu, however, couldn’t sleep. She took out her sword, "Solitary Radiance," and placed it across her knees, slowly polishing it with a cloth while attuning herself to the spiritual energy flowing within the blade.
Solitary Radiance resonated with her will, and whenever she wielded it, she felt an inexplicable force guiding her movements, as if the sword itself was directing her strikes.
If she could unravel the sword’s mysteries and become a swordsman worthy of it, that would be ideal.
But before that—
"I need to find a master," Shu Fu murmured to herself as she sheathed the sword.
Apprenticeship—or entrance exams—were one of the most clichéd opening tropes in classic cultivation novels. Shu Fu found it uninspired, but joining a sect would still be far more efficient than wandering as a rogue cultivator.
With her mind made up, "choosing a sect" became her next priority.
In the original story, Jiang Ruoshui had joined the Jiuhua Sect, one of the four great immortal sects of the era. The other three were the Tianyan Sect, Lingxiao City, and the Xuanyu Palace.
Unfortunately, despite spanning hundreds of chapters, the novel "Three Thousand Weak Waters" had skimped on the most basic world-building—like geographical details. It was as if the protagonist teleported everywhere, clicking on sect names like waypoints on a map.
Jiang Ruoshui rarely left home, so her memories were equally vague and unhelpful.
The only thing Shu Fu knew was that the Jiuhua Sect would hold recruitment exams at a place called "Xianyun Terrace," and Jiang Baozhu, Qi Yuxuan, and his "white moonlight" would all be there.
A gathering of eccentric characters, each vying for attention—surely a spectacle.
…She had absolutely no desire to go.
Well, she’d inquire more about the details in town tomorrow.
With that thought, Shu Fu settled into meditation, following Jiang Ruoshui’s memories, until late into the night when she finally lay down with her sword and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
…
The next morning, Shu Fu freshened up and went out alone to gather information. As luck would have it, a storyteller had arrived at the teahouse, vividly recounting "A Breakdown of the Major Sects in the Cultivation World Today."
Of course, that wasn’t the actual title, but to Shu Fu, it might as well have been.
The storyteller clacked his bamboo clappers, cleared his throat with exaggerated solemnity, and began his lecture:
"As you all know, the world today is teeming with cultivation sects—large and small, scattered like stars, too numerous to count. It’s enough to make one’s head spin, wondering which to join. But among them, the four greatest stand above the rest: the Xuanyu Palace in the east, Lingxiao City in the west, Jiuhua Sect in the south, and Tianyan Sect in the north."
Shu Fu spread paper and ink on the table, taking meticulous notes.
"Xuanyu Palace, the celestial mountain in the eastern seas—have any of you heard of its leader, Fairy Lingbo?"
"Of course!"
A man’s eyes gleamed with admiration. "They say Xuanyu Palace accepts only women, and every female cultivator there is a peerless beauty. Fairy Lingbo herself is a stunning vision, radiant beyond compare. To wed one of their disciples would be a dream come true!"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd—clearly, Xuanyu Palace’s reputation was well-known, and many longed for it.
"Ah, my friend, you know only half the story."
The storyteller stroked his goatee, shaking his head with smug amusement. "If an outsider wishes to marry a Xuanyu Palace disciple, he must personally journey to the island and pass seven trials—far from simple. And if he later betrays or mistreats his partner, the entire sect will hunt him to the ends of the earth, never resting until his life is forfeit."
The man who had spoken earlier shuddered, forcing an awkward laugh. "Such arrogance! Demanding both cultivation and virtue—do they think their disciples are goddesses?"
His words drew more agreement, with many grumbling indignantly:
"Exactly! Meddling in disciples’ marriages—this sect leader oversteps her bounds."
"Forget it. There are other female cultivators in the world. Why suffer their whims?"
"Marriage under the thumb of the bride’s sect? Ridiculous!"
"Seems to me this is just Xuanyu Palace’s ploy to inflate their worth."
A red-clad girl in the crowd scoffed disdainfully. "As a woman myself, I find such tactics beneath contempt."
Another girl chimed in, laughing, "Sister speaks true. Flaunting their status as a major sect, imposing so many conditions—who do they think they are?"
The crowd nodded fervently, with one man clapping in approval. "Isn’t this the young miss of the Qi family? How wise and discerning! Unlike that Xuanyu Palace, our Qi daughters understand propriety."
More pleasantries and flattery followed, filling the teahouse with lively chatter.
"…"
Shu Fu listened, utterly dumbfounded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
Oh heavens, I was just trying to set up a pre-marriage challenge so the groom would treat the bride better after marriage. How did that stir up a hornet’s nest? Public opinion shifts so fast—one moment they’re praising you to the skies, the next they’re trampling you into the mud. Do they not worry the wind might twist their tongues?
Sigh, this generation just isn’t up to par.
As for those two Qi family girls, their talent for tearing others down to elevate themselves is truly impressive. They’d make perfect sisters for Jiang Baozhu.
Shu Fu couldn’t help but wonder what kind of luck she had—first escaping the Jiang Clan, now running into the Qi family. The protagonist’s halo was truly formidable. She even suspected that if she traveled the entire cultivation world, she could collect all the named characters from the original story like a trading card game.
“…Heh.”
Just as Shu Fu was lost in thought, a light chuckle reached her ears—melodious as a nightingale’s song, yet carrying the lingering cadence of an opera singer, as if a feather had lightly brushed against her heart.
It was the first time she’d heard such an enchantingly coquettish “heh.” Half her bones melted on the spot, and she couldn’t help but set down her brush to look for the source.
By the window sat a man and a woman. The man had plain features and a gentle demeanor, the very picture of a mild-mannered scholar. The woman, however, was breathtakingly beautiful—her skin like snow, her bright eyes captivating, with a natural grace that could topple cities, and an aura so refined she seemed otherworldly.
Coincidentally, she too wore a water-red spring dress, her jet-black hair loosely tied up and adorned with an exquisitely crafted red jade hairpin. Dangling from her earlobes were a pair of coral earrings. The varying shades of red on her complemented each other perfectly, making her look like a wisp of sunset clouds or a tree of swaying blossoms.
The Qi family’s red-clad girl was pretty and dressed brightly, but compared to this woman, she might as well have been a gaudy flower pinned to a matchmaker’s hair—vulgar and laughable.
Hearing the woman’s laugh and resentful of being overshadowed, the girl’s pretty face darkened. “Fellow cultivator, what are you laughing at?”
The woman cast her a sidelong glance and replied offhandedly, “I thought of something happy.”
Shu Fu: “Pfft—”
That was way too half-hearted!
Despite her best efforts to hold it in, her snort drew the girl’s attention, who shot her a fiery glare. “And why are you laughing?”
Shu Fu hurriedly said, “I also thought of something happy.”
“Really? I don’t believe you.” The girl eyed her suspiciously. “What are the odds you both happened to think of something happy at the same time?”
“Really, really.” Faced with a girl whose words sounded like memes, Shu Fu responded with another meme. “Look, my face is covered in happiness.”
The girl: “…”
As they stared each other down, the storyteller ignored the tension in the room. After finishing his tale of the Mystic Jade Palace, he flipped a page and launched into the legendary “Lingxiao City of the West.”
Lingxiao City had deep roots and stood at its zenith. In terms of power and influence, it was the strongest of the four great sects.
Its current lord, Ling Shanhai, lived up to his domineering name. His cultivation was unfathomable, said to be just a step away from ascension, earning him the title of the world’s foremost expert. His children, now grown, were all outstanding talents among the younger generation, destined for greatness. The sect also boasted countless elders, guardians, and disciples spread across the land, wielding immense influence.
As a result, Lingxiao City’s disciples acted without restraint—charitably called “free-spirited,” less charitably called “arrogant and overbearing,” rivaling even the nobility of the mortal world.
Especially the young lord Ling Fengming, spoiled rotten by his family. If he encountered a cultivator who shared his name, he’d throw a fit, claiming they were unworthy of the character “Feng.” If the other party obediently changed their name, fine. If not, bloodshed was inevitable.
If they were this petty over a name, one could imagine the fate of sects or cultivators who dared oppose Lingxiao City.
Shu Fu: Sounds like a textbook villain.
Hard pass. Cross that one out.
In contrast, the “Northern Tianyan Sect” was far more low-key.
Specializing in divination, formations, and talismans, the Tianyan Sect was unassuming and practical—a steady, support-oriented sect.
Though they had vast territory, ample manpower, and formidable skills, they mostly holed up in remote valleys year-round, embodying the ultimate tech-nerd lifestyle. Among the four great sects, they were practically an afterthought.
Since the Tianyan Sect rarely interacted with the world, even the well-informed storyteller could dig up little gossip. He hastily recounted an anecdote about how they’d once over-engineered a mountain-protection array, accidentally turning their peak into a sea, before moving on.
“…”
When Shu Fu had read the original novel, the protagonists’ romance had left her questioning her sanity, leaving her with only vague impressions of side plots. Unfamiliar with the four sects’ histories, she quietly took notes, circling “Mystic Jade Palace” and “Tianyan Sect” while crossing out “Lingxiao City.”
All-female sect? Acceptable.
Tech-nerd sect? Acceptable.
Villain sect? Unacceptable.
However, judging by the storyteller’s tone, the Mystic Jade Palace was secluded overseas, and the Tianyan Sect kept to itself, recruiting mostly by chance. Unlike the Jiuhua Sect, they didn’t hold regular entrance exams. Without luck or connections, finding a way in seemed unlikely.
Lingxiao City, on the other hand, was always hiring lackeys—no standards, just flattery skills required. Applicants flocked like carp swimming upstream.
But why would anyone choose to be a bootlicker?
After eliminating the options, joining a major sect seemed to leave only the Jiuhua Sect as a viable path.
“Sigh…”
Shu Fu gloomily chewed on her brush, sighing inwardly.
No real choices in factions? This world’s freedom level is so low—nothing like the RPGs I’ve played.
If she couldn’t avoid the Jiuhua Sect, she’d have to find another way to dodge the minefield of bewildering plotlines scattered throughout the original story.
Compared to an RPG, this felt more like stepping into a game of Minesweeper—on the hardest difficulty. The map was huge, the mines plentiful, and one misstep could set off a chain reaction.
If she could rewrite the original title, she’d rename it “Immortal Fantasy: Minefield Warfare.”
