◎The sect really should regulate the naming conventions for peaks better.◎
Recently, within the Guiyuan Sect, two astonishing pieces of news have circulated regarding "that one peak we all know about."
The first piece of news was that Ji Qinghong had actually taken on a disciple.
—A disciple! A living one, officially registered in the sect's lineage of direct disciples, and not just any disciple—a sword cultivator, neither an artifact nor an array specialist!
Upon hearing this, many peak masters and elders couldn’t help but whisper among themselves, pulling out divination tools to predict whether the skies would rain crimson within the next month.
The second piece of news was… the disciple Ji Qinghong had taken in was actually quite reliable in temperament!
You see, when most people first heard about Ji Qinghong taking a disciple, the first image that came to mind was Ji Qinghong leading around a little brat with white hair and red eyes—a miniature Ji Qinghong, so to speak.
Many had even privately expressed concerns: "Birds of a feather flock together," and after all, what kind of decent person could be the sole individual in a thousand years to catch Ji Qinghong’s eye?
Once Ji Qinghong’s disciple grew older, wouldn’t he inevitably follow in his master’s footsteps—wreaking havoc, stirring up the world, causing half the cultivation realm’s practitioners to suffer circulatory blockages from sheer frustration, while the other half’s children would burst into tears at the mere mention of his name?
This particular rumor was eventually clarified by the upright and righteous Peak Master Chu of the Sword Peak.
Peak Master Chu asserted that Jiang Tingbai was a kind-hearted individual with exceptional talent—truly a fine jade, though lacking just a touch of sword intent, which was why he had missed the chance to join the Sword Peak. For such a promising youth to fall into Ji Qinghong’s hands was nothing short of casting pearls before swine—a tragic waste.
In short, no matter what Jiang Tingbai might become under Ji Qinghong’s influence a hundred years from now, at present, he was still a tender bamboo shoot that had managed to sprout from a patch of weeds.
A month after voicing this opinion, Peak Master Chu received news that struck her like a bolt of lightning.
"—What? Someone carved words into the Great Dao Azure Sky Stele? Who did it?"
"Indeed. The culprit was Senior Brother Jiang Tingbai, Ji Qinghong’s first disciple."
Peak Master Chu: "…"
Seated high in the hall, Peak Master Chu’s expression remained as still as water, betraying no emotion.
Yet, after the messenger disciple withdrew, her lower lip trembled faintly.
Then, she raised a hand and performed an action she had repeated countless times over the past thousand years—one she was doomed to repeat for millennia to come.
—Peak Master Chu pressed an elbow against her stomach.
Closing her eyes in anguish, she thought bitterly: I misjudged him.
That peak’s environment truly doesn’t nurture sensible people!
…
Jiang Tingbai stood in the Sword Peak’s main hall, his posture as straight as a water fir.
The newly awakened sword intent within him had yet to be fully restrained, making it difficult for ordinary Sword Peak disciples to approach within three steps of him.
Lowering his gaze slightly, Jiang Tingbai wore an expression tinged with remorse, deeply regretting the words he had carved into the Great Dao Azure Sky Stele.
Though the awakening of sword intent was a rare opportunity beyond his control, looking back now, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.
He wasn’t even a Sword Peak disciple. The fact that they had permitted him to ascend the mountain and study the stele had been an act of goodwill, one he had greatly appreciated.
Yet, after just one visit, he had left his mark on the meticulously maintained Great Dao Azure Sky Stele… This was truly inexcusable.
Moreover, Jiang Tingbai had once openly expressed his desire to join the Sword Peak, only to be firmly rejected by Peak Master Chu. To outsiders, this incident might easily be misconstrued as an act of petty retaliation.
At this thought, Jiang Tingbai let out a silent, bitter laugh. No matter the punishment, he would accept it willingly. But Peak Master Chu had once shown him kindness—he only hoped she would hear his explanation.
And then there was Ji Qinghong, who had defied all opposition to take him in as a disciple. The title of "master" was well-deserved. Yet, in such a short time, he had already caused a major incident. No doubt his master would be furious upon hearing the news… Hm?
As he pondered, Ji Qinghong and Peak Master Chu strode side by side across the threshold.
Ji Qinghong approached with light, almost buoyant steps.
Jiang Tingbai studied his master’s expression carefully—and then froze.
Wait, was he seeing this correctly?
Why did Ji Qinghong’s face bear an expression that could only be described as "utterly delighted"?
The kind of look that unmistakably said, "I was so bored this afternoon, but then I stumbled upon some entertainment—what a pleasant surprise!"
Jiang Tingbai: "???"
In his imagination, if Ji Qinghong were to smile at all, it would have been a bitter smile, a resigned sigh, or a furious grin. But this beaming expression… was a bit…
Jiang Tingbai cautiously glanced at Peak Master Chu.
—A bit tactless, wasn’t it?!
Master, could you at least try not to look so thrilled? The aggrieved party is standing right beside you!
After years of working alongside Ji Qinghong, Peak Master Chu had long since mastered the art of ignoring his infuriating expressions.
With practiced ease, she averted her gaze, simultaneously pressing one hand to the hilt of her sword while the other clenched into a fist against her stomach.
"Peak Master Ji, has some joyous occasion befallen you?"
"Nothing much. Just sharing in the happiness, really."
Ji Qinghong nodded slightly, his smile serene and amiable—as if anyone else in the room could possibly find this situation amusing.
He gestured toward Jiang Tingbai.
"My disciple has finally stopped being so withdrawn and started causing trouble like a normal child. I should thank Peak Master Chu for her generous contribution."
Peak Master Chu: "…"
Your definition of a "normal child" seems to deviate significantly from the actual meaning of "normal."
Jiang Tingbai: "…"
So, in his master’s eyes, his previous behavior had been classified as "withdrawn."
Peak Master Chu, finding no suitable response, simply ignored Ji Qinghong’s remark.
Her lips, the color of burnished copper, parted slightly as she spoke, each word sharp as a blade cutting straight to the heart of the matter:
"Peak Master Ji, the Great Dao Azure Sky Stele is a relic left by the Sword Ancestor. As you’ve seen, Jiang Tingbai’s lingering sword intent has even overwritten part of the Sword Ancestor’s inscribed questions. How do you propose we resolve this matter?"
Ji Qinghong listened attentively, and from between every word, he discerned a single, unmistakable demand: Compensation!
"Truly worthy of Peak Master Chu," Ji Qinghong sighed admiringly. "In that case, let us resolve this matter in a manner befitting those of considerable means."
Peak Master Chu’s expression remained unchanged, as though she had anticipated this very response.
Jiang Tingbai: "???"
Wait, had he misheard? What did he mean by "a manner befitting those of considerable means"?
Under Jiang Tingbai’s bewildered gaze, Ji Qinghong and Peak Master Chu swiftly negotiated the terms of reparation.
The final verdict: Disciple Jiang Tingbai, having damaged the Great Dao Azure Sky Stele, was to be sentenced to twenty years of secluded reflection in the Penalty Cliff.
Considering his extraordinary talent and inherently kind nature, he was only penalized by forfeiting all income for the next hundred years—including his monthly stipend from the sect and any personal earnings.
Meanwhile, Ji Qinghong crafted a detachable magical artifact for the Sword Peak, designed to conceal the traces of Jiang Tingbai’s sword intent.
As for ordinary times, there was no need to hide those traces. The Sword Peak could simply relocate the Monument of the Vast Heavens and charge disciples an admission fee to visit.
With Jiang Tingbai’s sword intent serving as a neutralizing force, the once-overpowering introspective whispers had been diluted and no longer posed a threat.
For the first hundred years, thirty percent of the admission fees would go to Ji Qinghong as payment for crafting the artifact.
After a century, thirty percent would belong to Jiang Tingbai, considered his handiwork fee.
Suddenly rendered penniless yet informed of future earnings, Jiang Tingbai: “…”
Years later, when Jiang Tingbai learned of something called “investment-linked insurance” from another world, his feelings eerily mirrored those of this moment.
…
Thus, the matter of the Monument of the Vast Heavens was neatly resolved.
However, having just caused such a major inconvenience, Jiang Tingbai felt too embarrassed to return to the Sword Peak for further training anytime soon.
For the past half-month, he had remained on his own peak, practicing his swordplay.
Normally, Ji Qinghong paid little attention to how Jiang Tingbai trained.
Though Jiang Tingbai was his first disciple, Ji Qinghong generally adopted a hands-off approach.
Unless Jiang Tingbai sought guidance directly, Ji Qinghong only offered corrections once every ten days or so.
But this time, things were different.
Nearly a century later, Ji Qinghong would take on two disciples, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang, who shared a bond like turtle and snake. Had they been present, they would have immediately warned Jiang Tingbai—
“Senior Brother, the spot you’ve chosen for sword practice happens to be the very patch of tender green grass that Master loves to snack on!”
At first, Jiang Tingbai was oblivious.
On the first day, the tips of the lush grass took on a dull, withered hue, far less vibrant than usual.
On the second day, the once-upright blades drooped listlessly, devoid of their usual vigor.
By the third day…
Half a month later, the once-thriving meadow wore the desolate air of an overworked peasant on a landlord’s estate.
Jiang Tingbai was not the type to disregard nature.
So, after sheathing his sword that day, he surveyed the damage, pondered for a moment, and then—as if a lightbulb had lit up above his head—hurried off.
He returned within minutes, clutching a bundle of willow branches, which he evenly planted across the ravaged turf.
Admiring his handiwork, Jiang Tingbai allowed a gentle smile to grace his lips.
He could almost picture it: years later, his swordsmanship would reach new heights, and these humble twigs would grow into elegant saplings.
And in the distant future… which would mature first—himself or these willow trees? The thought flitted cheerfully through his mind.
This reverie was abruptly cut short by Ji Qinghong’s pained expression.
When Jiang Tingbai trampled his favorite snack grass on the first day, Ji Qinghong said nothing.
He was busy crafting the artifact for the Sword Peak and hadn’t noticed.
On the second day, Ji Qinghong again remained silent.
He’d discovered a missing material and went to “borrow” it from the sect leader, too preoccupied to return to the peak.
By the third day, Ji Qinghong still hadn’t spoken up.
After finishing the artifact, he’d accepted a mission and merrily set off to stir up trouble elsewhere.
But now, half a month later, Ji Qinghong returned, laden with fresh tales of mischief—only to step through the gate and freeze.
Ji Qinghong: “…”
Huh, whose house collapsed?
Oh. Mine.
…Wait. Mine?
Gazing at the devastated grass and Jiang Tingbai’s freshly planted willow twigs, Ji Qinghong’s expression was serene, his smile radiant.
“Are you… engaging in reforestation?” he asked, each word dripping with gentle emphasis.
Jiang Tingbai, who had just finished tamping down the last willow branch, suddenly felt an inexplicable chill crawl up his spine.
Uncertain of its origin, he bravely suppressed it with his righteous demeanor.
He earnestly explained his reasoning, only to see Ji Qinghong’s smile widen further.
That day, Jiang Tingbai nearly got expelled from the sect for “entering Sulu Hall with his left foot first.”
Ultimately, however, Ji Qinghong artfully clarified that Jiang Tingbai had nearly obliterated his master’s midnight snacks—and then offered a solution.
“Why not resume training at the Sword Peak?”
“This disciple… is ashamed.”
Ji Qinghong cheerfully suggested, “Precisely because you ruined their Monument of the Vast Heavens, you should flaunt your presence. Revel in their frustration—knowing they can’t lay a finger on you.”
Jiang Tingbai: “…”
One shouldn’t doubt their mentor.
But at this moment, Jiang Tingbai genuinely wondered: Was Ji Qinghong sending him to the Sword Peak to get beaten up—as revenge for trampling his lawn?
Seeing Jiang Tingbai’s reluctance to provoke the Sword Peak disciples, Ji Qinghong sighed regretfully.
“Fine. In that case, go train at the Sword Pavilion.”
“The Towering Sword Pavilion, Master means?”
“Mhm.” Ji Qinghong replied offhandedly. “Three thousand sword intents of past masters are inscribed there. First, sweep the graves. Then, pay respects to the remnant blades… If you can comprehend half of them, your swordsmanship will reach extraordinary heights.”
Jiang Tingbai nodded solemnly, committing the advice to heart.
Neither the giver nor the receiver could have foreseen that this brief instruction would, a century later, make the Sword Pavilion shine with indomitable brilliance once more.
And it all began because Ji Qinghong wanted to protect his snacks—by sending Jiang Tingbai far, far away.
Another half-month passed. When Jiang Tingbai emerged from seclusion at the Sword Pavilion and returned to his peak, he froze mid-step upon entering.
Staring at the newly renamed peak, he stood in stunned silence.
The updated title read: “Don’t-Worry-About-the-Heavens-Yet-Mind-Your-Own-Business Peak.”
Jiang Tingbai: “…”
Inside his shoes, his toes curled in agony.
At this moment, as Jiang Tingbai gazed at the peak monument before him, two thoughts slowly rose in his mind.
The first thought—Jiang Tingbai finally understood why the disciples of Sword Peak had been glaring at him with barely concealed hostility lately.
If someone barged into their peak, smashed their monument to pieces, and then had the audacity to flaunt it by carrying a sign of their deed on their forehead every single day, even Jiang Tingbai couldn’t guarantee he’d remain calm upon seeing such a person.
The second thought was—
The sect really ought to enforce stricter naming conventions for its peaks.
Jiang Tingbai closed his eyes, lamenting bitterly in his heart.
At the very least, they should impose a character limit on peak names!
