◎ Pen of Two Masters ◎
Following the departure from Hongtong Palace, disciples from the Guiyuan Sect, Fanyin Temple, and the Snow Region were also packing their belongings, preparing to return home.
However, what Yan Luoyue hadn’t expected was that before she could join the Guiyuan Sect’s returning convoy, she would first have to bid farewell to her close companion.
The first to take his leave was Ling Shuanghun.
As disciples of Ji Qinghong, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang were undoubtedly bound to return to his mountain residence.
But as friends who had journeyed together, lived side by side in the secret realm for a year, and grown as close as family, Yan Luoyue privately wished that Ling Shuanghun wouldn’t leave—or at least, not so soon.
Ling Shuanghun was a crane historian, possessing an extraordinary passion for history.
Coincidentally, before the Demon-Subduing War, the demon races had no tradition of recording history, while humans had long upheld the custom of preserving historical records.
The Guiyuan Sect housed countless texts, many of which were travelogues and personal journals detailing the history of the demon races.
Yan Luoyue quietly asked Jiang Tingbai in private whether she could invite Ling Shuanghun to the Guiyuan Sect as a guest for a while, and whether she could borrow those notes for her friend to read.
Jiang Tingbai nodded and even took the opportunity to explain the relevant rules to her.
A sect was somewhat like an integrated cluster of a company, a university, and a residential district.
For inner disciples like Yan Luoyue and Jiang Tingbai, if they had friends visiting, they only needed to register their guests and provide them with a visitor’s token, ensuring their friends adhered to the etiquette of guests, and they could let them stay for a short period.
As for certain sect texts, if they were merely casual notes or travelogues, inner disciples could lend them to friends as long as they guaranteed no loss and timely return.
Of course, when it came to cultivation techniques, secret manuals, or archives with higher confidentiality levels, unless approved by an elder, outsiders were strictly forbidden from viewing them.
When Yan Luoyue relayed this news to Ling Shuanghun, the red-crowned crane did not show delight.
Instead, a visible struggle flickered across the young man’s refined features.
After a moment, however, he let out a reluctant, bittersweet laugh.
“I’m sorry, Xiao Yan. Thank you for your kindness, but I’m afraid I must bid you farewell.”
“Xiao Ling, are you leaving?”
Ling Shuanghun nodded.
Having voiced his decision, the words that followed seemed to flow more smoothly.
Ling Shuanghun sighed softly, his gaze sincere yet resolute as he looked at Yan Luoyue.
“Yesterday, I received a message from my elder brother. Strange phenomena have been occurring frequently along the Bihuo River, and it’s best if I go investigate.”
The Guiyuan Sect’s texts would remain there, neither growing legs nor running away—they could be studied anytime.
But some pivotal historical events, once missed, would be a great regret for a historian.
Holding Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s hands, one on each side, Ling Shuanghun declared brightly:
“Xiao Yan, Xiao Wu, the year I’ve spent with you has been one of the greatest joys of my life.”
“Let’s keep in touch through letters. When the opportunity arises, I’ll visit the Guiyuan Sect to see you again.”
Even through the thin white veil, the other two could see the deep reluctance in Wu Manshuang’s eyes.
At this moment, the little snake suddenly recalled all the times he had taken sides in Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun’s playful squabbles.
If he had known this would be their parting…
He would have been even more subtle about his favoritism.
Yan Luoyue pressed, “You’ll definitely come?”
Ling Shuanghun smiled. “I’ll definitely come!”
Though mountains stood high and roads stretched far, the crane’s wings could soar over the steepest peaks. Even if rivers ran deep and rapids roared, the bird’s reflection would leave but a fleeting trace upon the waves.
Partings and reunions were but common occurrences in life, mere strokes in the annals of history.
Yet bonds of fate and friendship were like unbroken lotus threads—no matter how far apart, they would inevitably reconnect.
Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang watched as Ling Shuanghun packed his belongings, then accompanied him all the way to the crossroads.
Cranes were by nature free-spirited and unrestrained.
Though Ling Shuanghun had been reluctant when first announcing his departure, by the time they reached the moment of farewell, his gaze had already cleared, firm with resolve.
It was as though he had already glimpsed the beauty of their future reunion across the countless mountains and rivers that would soon separate them.
The young man’s arms transformed into a pair of elegant wings. Turning back, Ling Shuanghun flashed his two friends a radiant, untroubled smile.
“Xiao Wu, Xiao Yan, let’s look forward to meeting again.”
With those words, Ling Shuanghun took the form of a white crane, spread his wings, and soared into the sky.
The crane’s graceful figure gradually receded into the distance, shrinking to a mere speck in their vision, yet the wind carried back the lingering melody of his song.
“Now I bid thee farewell,
Parting like frost upon the snow.
When flowers bloom once more,
We shall reunite again…”
…
After Hongtong Palace and Ling Shuanghun, the third to depart were Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang themselves.
Their flying vessel merged seamlessly into the Guiyuan Sect’s returning convoy, like a drop of water rejoining the river. Aboard the vessel with them were Ji Qinghong and Jiang Tingbai.
Ji Qinghong lounged leisurely by the window on a reclining chair, idly admiring the passing clouds.
Meanwhile, Jiang Tingbai brewed a pot of warm tea, sitting at the table with Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang. A gentle smile graced his lips as he patiently answered every question from his junior siblings.
“You want to know what our peak is really like?”
Jiang Tingbai lifted the teapot, steadily filling Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s cups as he spoke in a calm voice:
“Our Radish Peak has a total of…”
“Ah, wait a minute.” Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but interrupt. “That… it’s really called Radish Peak?”
As she asked, her gaze involuntarily drifted toward Ji Qinghong.
Ji Qinghong rested his chin on one hand, gazing intently out the window as if entirely oblivious to their conversation.
Jiang Tingbai sighed. “It’s really called Radish Peak. Rumor has it the engraved stone tablet at the mountain’s entrance has already been carved and replaced.”
Yan Luoyue: “…”
Hearing this naming convention—no less absurd than northeastern monikers like “Daft Roe Deer Village,” “Second Buttock Mountain,” or “Underpants Gully”—Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but imagine the following scenario:
After joining the sect, she would inevitably interact with disciples from other peaks.
When someone introduced themselves with, “I’m [Name] from Sword Peak. And you are…?”
She’d have to reply, “Oh, I’m Yan Luoyue from Radish Peak.”
Noticing the complicated expression on Yan Luoyue’s face, Jiang Tingbai offered some consolation:
“It’s alright, Junior Sister. Radish Peak is actually one of the more normal names.”
Yan Luoyue snapped her head up. “???”
What? What did you just say?
Through Jiang Tingbai’s tactful explanation, Yan Luoyue learned that over the past several thousand years, Ji Qinghong seemed to have developed a habit of arbitrarily renaming the peak he resided in.
The frequency with which he changed the mountain’s name rivaled—if not surpassed—the speed at which certain modern netizens altered their online aliases.
Before it was called "Radish Peak," the previous names of their peak were "Drink Northwest Wind Peak," "I Don't Even Have a Peak Yet," and "How Do You Know If I’m Crazy or Not Peak."
Within the Guiyuan Sect, since no one could keep up with their peak’s rapid name changes, everyone generally defaulted to calling it, "You know, that peak."
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Hearing this, Yan Luoyue immediately proposed the next candidate name on the spot: "Peak Viewed Sideways as a Ridge."
—Even though Yan Luoyue had always been a naming prodigy, she now felt that she was far more cultured than Ji Qinghong!
Jiang Tingbai truly lived up to being the most reliable senior brother on the peak.
Despite the conversation veering wildly off track, he stubbornly steered it back to the original topic and continued answering Wu Manshuang’s earlier question.
"As of now, counting you and me, our Radish Peak has a total of five disciples and masters..."
"Eh?" Yan Luoyue looked up and exchanged a silent glance with Wu Manshuang.
Though Wu Manshuang’s eyes were hidden behind white gauze, making it impossible to truly share a look, the gesture still had to be made for the sake of ceremony.
Both of them realized: Yan Luoyue, Wu Manshuang, Senior Brother Jiang, Ji Qinghong... that made four people.
Who was this mysterious fifth person? Could it be another senior brother or sister?
Noticing his junior siblings’ confusion immediately, Jiang Tingbai took a shallow breath and asked hesitantly, "Did Master... not mention this to you?"
Two little heads shook in unison like rattle-drums.
"...I see." Jiang Tingbai sighed softly and pressed a finger to his brow, rubbing lightly.
Yan Luoyue watched Senior Brother Jiang with interest.
She noticed that now that Jiang Tingbai had transitioned from being a "teacher" to a "senior brother," no longer needing to maintain the dignified demeanor of an instructor in the academy, even his unconscious little gestures had become more frequent.
This version of Jiang Tingbai seemed more natural and approachable.
Jiang Tingbai explained, "That person joined after me. Their... situation is a bit more special."
When mentioning this disciple, there was a faint trace of uncertainty in Jiang Tingbai’s tone.
Wu Manshuang didn’t quite understand. "So we have a second senior brother?"
"...Well, second senior brother... sort of."
For some reason, Jiang Tingbai’s answer was slightly evasive, as if he wasn’t entirely confident.
This reaction clearly hinted at something unusual. Yan Luoyue instinctively glanced toward Ji Qinghong by the window.
Her gut told her that whenever something bizarre was involved, Ji Qinghong was undoubtedly the one to blame.
Following Yan Luoyue’s gaze, Ji Qinghong stood by the window, holding a white jade wine cup in the sunlight. The knuckles of his hand were nearly the same color as the jade.
Hearing Jiang Tingbai’s answer, Ji Qinghong turned to him with a teasing smile. "If Mi Jichen isn’t dressed as usual today, what would you do?"
Jiang Tingbai replied calmly, "Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes."
...
Soon, Yan Luoyue understood the meaning behind their exchange.
The flying vessel descended through the clouds and landed on the flat training grounds of Radish Peak, startling the birds in the nearby woods into a flurry of chirps.
Yan Luoyue stepped down the ladder and took in the lush, picturesque scenery of the peak.
At the sound of the vessel’s landing, branches rustled in the depths of the forest.
A figure emerged, pushing aside vines and stepping over moss, like a mountain spirit from ancient Chu hymns—bathed in the morning dew, holding fragrant herbs in hand.
—A beauty. A stunning beauty. A breathtakingly gorgeous beauty.
This was Yan Luoyue’s first thought upon seeing the beautiful woman.
The newcomer had a charming smile and captivating eyes, with fair, translucent skin and a graceful, alluring figure.
Their beauty was androgynous—feminine yet carrying a hint of boldness. When dressed as a woman, they resembled a pretty young man cross-dressing; when dressed as a man, they looked like a beauty disguised in male attire.
At this moment, the beauty wore a red dress reminiscent of flying celestial murals, with a willow-yellow silk shawl draped over their arms and seven or eight delicate golden bracelets adorning their wrists.
Their jade-white feet were bare, toes sinking into the soft fallen leaves without a speck of dirt.
A thin red cord was tied around their left ankle, the tasseled end gently brushing against the top of their foot.
"Master, Senior Brother, you’re back?" the beauty greeted with a bright smile.
Yan Luoyue noticed that the moment they met, Jiang Tingbai seemed to glance briefly at the beauty’s attire.
Then he called out, "Second Junior Sister."
When it came to social cues, Wu Manshuang’s reactions tended to lag slightly.
Hearing this address, he looked up at Jiang Tingbai in confusion.
—Wasn’t it supposed to be Second Senior Brother?
It was only after Yan Luoyue quickly called out "Second Senior Sister" that Wu Manshuang followed suit.
The second senior sister, hearing the address, looked down at Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang.
She quickly guessed their identities based on their heights and asked delightedly,
"Master, are these our peak’s new junior brother and sister?"
Ji Qinghong merely gave a faint "Mm" in response.
The second senior sister bent down, studying the two little ones in turn.
"Hello, little junior brother and little junior sister—or little junior brothers, or little junior sisters."
Yan Luoyue: "?"
Wait, wasn’t this greeting a bit... odd?
Straightening up, the beauty seemed to have discerned something about the two and turned to Jiang Tingbai with a sigh.
"Senior Brother, the human population on our peak has dropped again."
Caught off guard, Jiang Tingbai: "..."
Equally unprepared, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang: "..."
At this moment, as the only pure-blooded human on the peak, Jiang Tingbai felt an unusual weight of responsibility...
Yan Luoyue was now certain: the senior sister was undeniably beautiful, but for some reason, her mind seemed a little... unconventional.
Jiang Tingbai cleared his throat and reminded her, "Second Junior Sister, are you going to soak in the water?"
"Yes, I was just about to. Thank you for the reminder, Senior Brother."
The beauty flashed Jiang Tingbai a radiant smile before waving at Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang.
"Then I’ll see you both later, little junior brother and little junior sister."
Perhaps because she had confirmed their species and genders, this time, she didn’t use that confusing form of address again.
Watching her graceful figure disappear into the distance, Jiang Tingbai shook his head with a resigned sigh.
"...As you just saw, this is your second senior sister—or second senior brother—Mi Jichen."
Wu Manshuang asked hesitantly, "What do you mean by ‘second senior sister or second senior brother’?"
This way of speaking made it hard not to suspect that Jiang Tingbai had been influenced by Senior Sister Jichen!
Jiang Tingbai said in a deep voice, "She... his background is a bit special. Pay attention to Mi Jichen's attire in your daily interactions. If he dresses in male clothing, call him Second Senior Brother. If she wears feminine robes, address her as Second Senior Sister."
There was actually such a distinction?
Yan Luoyue pondered for a moment before turning her gaze to Ji Qinghong. "How does Master usually address Second Senior Sister?"
Ji Qinghong chuckled lightly. "Only your Senior Brother Jiang insists on such formalities—he believes in respecting Mi Jichen’s preferences, calling him 'Junior Brother' when dressed as a man and 'Junior Sister' when dressed as a woman."
"As for me, no matter what they wear, I just call them by their name."
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Well, this kind of seniority hierarchy was beyond her comprehension.
Initially, Yan Luoyue had been curious whether Mi Jichen’s "special background" meant they were a shapeshifting demon capable of switching between genders.
But when faced with reality, she realized her imagination had fallen short.
It happened on their second day entering the mountain sect.
While Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang were still exploring Radish Peak, they wandered to the back mountain early in the morning.
A layer of damp mist hung over the back mountain, carrying a warmth starkly different from winter’s chill.
As a turtle demon, Yan Luoyue instinctively inhaled deeply, savoring the moist air filling her lungs.
Yan Luoyue: "Is there a hot spring in the back mountain?"
Wu Manshuang suggested, "Let’s go take a look."
And then, the two of them came face-to-face with Second Senior Sister—or Second Senior Brother—who had just emerged from the hot spring, nearly unclothed, wearing only a few loops of red string around their ankles.
The mist around the hot spring naturally obscured vision.
Whatever cultivation technique Mi Jichen practiced, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang didn’t even notice their presence until they were within three steps of them.
To be honest, in that first moment of encounter, both Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang instinctively raised their hands, intending to cover each other’s eyes.
But half a second later, they realized—it was entirely unnecessary.
Because Mi Jichen was... truly unique. The kind of unique where even if they walked down the street completely naked, neither they nor anyone else would bat an eye.
Because they had absolutely no sexual characteristics.
Yan Luoyue: =mouth=
To clarify, "no sexual characteristics" meant exactly that—none whatsoever.
Mi Jichen’s jade-white throat bore no Adam’s apple.
Following the lines downward, their chest was flat.
And further down... even between their legs, the skin was utterly smooth—no protrusions, no indentations.
In fact, Mi Jichen’s entire body was as seamless as a plastic mannequin in a clothing store.
—Honestly, they really were like a mannequin.
After all, they didn’t even have nipples!
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Under Yan Luoyue’s stunned, speechless gaze, Mi Jichen bent down and picked up a robe from the shore.
Without the slightest hesitation, they draped the male-style outer garment over themselves in full view of Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang.
"Junior Sister, Junior Brother," Mi Jichen greeted them with a smile. "I come to the back mountain to soak in the water every day. My apologies for startling you."
Yan Luoyue finally managed to find her voice. "Senior Brother, you’re..."
Her question was vague, but Mi Jichen understood immediately.
"Ah, you’re asking about my background, right?" Mi Jichen replied cheerfully. "My true form is a white jade brush."
So, it wasn’t that their skin was as pale as jade—their brush shaft was literally made of jade.
Hearing this, Yan Luoyue had an epiphany.
In mortal folktales, "demon" and "spirit" were often lumped together. But in the cultivation world, the two concepts were distinct.
Beings like Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang were demons.
Entities such as matchmaking temple obsessions or jade brushes gaining sentience were spirits.
Undoubtedly, Mi Jichen was a white jade brush spirit.
—No wonder they had no gender.
Since when did brushes come in "male" and "female" varieties?
This wasn’t French, with gendered nouns!
In that moment, Yan Luoyue finally understood why Mi Jichen hadn’t removed the red string from their ankle even while bathing.
...If she wasn’t mistaken, that was probably the tassel attached to the end of a brush.
This discovery undoubtedly resolved the confusion in Yan Luoyue’s mind.
—And incidentally solved a long-standing dilemma within their sect.
At noon that day, Jiang Tingbai was astonished to find that Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang had effortlessly bypassed the trouble he’d faced for decades—having to check Mi Jichen’s attire before addressing them.
They simply called Mi Jichen: Second Senior Brush.
Mi Jichen cheerfully waved a hand. "Ah~"
Jiang Tingbai: "..."
After decades of stubbornly switching titles based on clothing, Jiang Tingbai suddenly felt a little lost.
