As the morning light rose from the sea, Canglan Island was gilded with a very faint layer of gold.
The gold spread from the east, first as a single line, then washing over the coastline, sweeping across the scattered, layered buildings, and finally blanketing the entire island.
Under the sunlight, the sea took on a color somewhere between green and blue. Tiny white waves crested along its edges, looking as though someone had scattered a handful of crushed pearl dust across the water's surface.
The disciples of the three major sects had already lined up on the plaza before sunrise.
The Xuantian Sect's queue was on the west side of the plaza.
Their frost-white Daoist robes formed a continuous expanse in the morning light, resembling a snowfield flattened by the wind.
Bai Qingxue stood in the middle section of the queue, the Frost Moon Chant hanging from her waist, her silver-white hair pinned up with a white jade hairpin.
The morning light shone on her face, making her light-colored eyes appear almost transparent.
Lu Xueqing stood slightly to her left behind her, a single person's distance away.
That distance was neither too close nor too far, just enough for Lu Xueqing to see Bai Qingxue's fingers hanging by her side.
The disciples of Tianshu Peak stood at the very front of the Xuantian Sect's queue. The leader was a man of tall and upright build, with regular features and an exceptionally fine long sword hanging at his waist.
His gaze drifted sideways from time to time, sweeping in Bai Qingxue's direction with a scrutiny he did little to hide.
Bai Qingxue felt his gaze, but she did not turn her head, let alone respond.
Seeing this, the Tianshu Peak disciple averted his gaze as if he had seen nothing at all.
On the high platform directly in front of the plaza stood the elders of the three major sects.
The elder of the Xuantian Sect wore a grayish-blue Daoist robe, his expression solemn.
The elder of the Falling Star Pavilion was a white-haired female cultivator holding a bronze mirror.
The elder of the Northern Underworld Sword Sect was slender, like a sword that had yet to be unsheathed.
The Falling Star Pavilion elder took a step forward.
“The Canglan Dao Discourse is held once a century. You should have already reviewed the rules in your jade slips. The disciples of the three major sects will compete for the spiritual vein core tokens and spiritual items from the ancient ruins. Ultimately, the ownership of the spiritual vein will be decided by the outcome of the arena matches. There are no restrictions on magic treasures or methods. However, there is one condition: you must not take lives. Violators will be expelled from the discourse and barred forever.”
She paused.
“The first round is the competition for the spiritual vein. Before sunset today, the disciples of each sect will be transported to various spiritual vein nodes across the island. Each node hides a spiritual vein core token. Those holding a token will gain an extra advantage in the second round. Places are limited, first come, first served.”
As her voice fell, a low murmur of discussion rose across the plaza.
Some began to adjust their gear, some whispered strategies with their fellow disciples, while others simply stood quietly, as if silently calculating something in their minds.
In the Northern Underworld Sword Sect's queue, Zhao Yue stood at the very front.
He stood with his arms crossed over his sword, expressionless.
His gaze rested in the direction of the high platform, but he was clearly not looking at the elder.
His gaze cut through the platform and the whispering crowd, landing on a certain frost-white shadow within the Xuantian Sect's queue.
Han Muchun stood in the middle section of the Falling Star Pavilion's queue.
In her hands, she held a scroll. Its pages were yellowed and the corners curled, as if it had been flipped through many times.
She did not converse with her sect members like the others, nor did she look around.
Just as Bai Qingxue averted her gaze from the high platform, Han Muchun happened to look up.
Their eyes met in midair across the distance of the entire plaza. Like two leaves blown by the wind from different directions, they brushed against each other for an instant before turning away.
The corner of Han Muchun's mouth twitched, forming a very faint, barely perceptible curve.
Then she lowered her head and resumed reading the text on the scroll.
Within the Xuantian Sect's queue, the disciples of Xueji Peak stood behind Bai Qingxue.
Some nervously tied and untied their sashes repeatedly, while others softly chanted formulas under their breath.
Still others stole glances at Bai Qingxue at the front of the queue, their eyes filled with a complex mixture of reverence and awe.
A younger female disciple somehow managed to weave her way over to Bai Qingxue's side. Her voice was kept extremely low: “Senior Sister Bai... when we compete for the tokens in the first round, can we follow you?”
Bai Qingxue turned her head slightly to glance at her. The female disciple's fingers were twisting her cuffs.
Bai Qingxue withdrew her gaze from the girl's twisting fingers.
“There is no need to follow me. Remember the route, avoid high-tier spirit beasts, and focus on regrouping with your companions first.”
The female disciple froze for a moment, as if trying to discern whether this was a rejection or a piece of advice.
She opened her mouth to ask something else, but Bai Qingxue had already shifted her gaze back to the front.
The elders on the high platform cast one last look around the plaza, and then raised their hands.
The stone pillars at the edges of the plaza, carved with the emblems of the three major sects, began to glow. Starting from the base like ignited wicks, the light climbed layer by layer along the patterns on the pillars.
The light converged at the tops of the pillars, forming a massive arc that enveloped the entire plaza.
“The first round, the competition for the spiritual vein, begins now.”
The light from the stone pillars flared up instantly.
A pale halo rippled out beneath Bai Qingxue's feet, spreading outward from the bluestone slab she stood on like ripples from a stone thrown into water.
The sensation of the world spinning lasted only an instant. By the time Bai Qingxue's vision cleared, she was standing on a coastline she had never seen before.
The sea before her was wider and stretched further than what she had seen before. Waves crashed against black reefs, kicking up white spray that shimmered under the sunlight.
The concentration of spiritual energy in the air was significantly higher than on the plaza, feeling like the damp mountain air after a fresh rain.
Bai Qingxue withdrew her gaze and began to survey her surroundings.
Along the coastline, the terrain transitioned from the reef area to a patch of low shrubs, and further inland, the faint outline of a mountain range could be seen.
The mountain was not high, but the vegetation was dense, with lush greenery covering the entire slope as if someone had laid a thick green blanket over it.
Bai Qingxue walked toward the inland direction. The shrubs were denser than she had anticipated, their branches intertwining like countless hands clasped together to bar anyone from passing.
Bai Qingxue did not take a detour. She simply raised her hand to brush the branches aside. As she walked through, the hem of her robe brushed against the leaves, catching a few drops of dew that were quickly dried by the wind.
As she passed through the shrubs, Bai Qingxue felt an extremely faint fluctuation of spiritual power.
The fluctuation came from afar, roughly in the direction of the foot of the mountain. She paused, closed her eyes to sense it for a breath, and then adjusted her direction, walking toward the source of the spiritual power.
After walking for about the time it took to burn an incense stick, Bai Qingxue stopped by a stream.
The stream was crystal clear, seeping out from the crevices of the mountain rocks and gathering into a narrow flow in a low-lying area.
There was a footprint in the mud beside the stream. It was not deep, but its edges were distinct, looking as though it had been made not long ago. The footprint was a size smaller than her own and the stride was narrow, likely belonging to someone of shorter stature.
Bai Qingxue squatted down to examine the footprint.
She stood up and followed the direction of the footprint. Passing through a patch of low shrubs, she saw that the footprints vanished at the edge of a patch of trampled grass.
In the center of the grass lay a shimmering stone slab embedded in the dirt, as if it had been intentionally placed there.
A rune was carved onto the surface of the stone slab, its pattern identical to the spiritual vein node markers she had seen in the jade slips.
A dark token was embedded in the center of the slab, with an extremely thin halo of light slowly flowing around its edges.
Bai Qingxue took two steps closer. Instead of immediately picking up the token, she first surveyed her surroundings. The stream, the shrubs, the grass—everything was quiet, perhaps a bit too quiet.
Then she spotted a figure squatting by the stream.
The person had their back to her and was currently tying their sash.
She was currently wearing a dark blue Daoist robe, her sleeves casually rolled up to reveal half of her forearms.
Her hair was unbound and draped over her shoulders, with a few strands dipping into the water, the wet tips dripping slowly.
Bai Qingxue stood in place without moving.
Then, the person turned around.
It was a face she had seen before.
Han Muchun.
Han Muchun also seemed not to have expected to run into Bai Qingxue here. She froze slightly, then curled her lips into a warm, familiar smile.
“Miss Bai, what a coincidence.” Han Muchun stood up and brushed the grass clippings off her cuffs. “I thought there might be something hidden by the stream, so I came over to check. I didn't expect the token to be here, and I certainly didn't expect you to be here either.”
Bai Qingxue's gaze shifted from Han Muchun's face to the stone slab holding the token.
The halo of light around the edge of the stone slab was still slowly flowing, like a breathing insect.
Han Muchun followed her gaze, the curve of her mouth remaining unchanged. “If you want it, Miss Bai, I won't fight you for it. After all, rather than the token, I would much prefer to catch up with you.”
Bai Qingxue looked up. “I told you, I do not remember you.”
“It does not matter if you don't remember,” Han Muchun replied, her tone as gentle as ever. “It is enough that I do.”
Bai Qingxue fell silent for a moment. She did not reach for the token, nor did she press further about the matter of Yunzhou.
She simply turned around and continued forward along the stream.
Han Muchun stood where she was, watching the frost-white figure disappear into the shadows of the shrubs.
Then she looked down at the token in her palm, which she had retrieved at some unknown point. She flipped the token over; there was a tiny scratch on the back, like a mark someone had made.
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