The sun had not yet reached its peak, and the clouds were still thin. The hull of the vessel glided over the pine waves, splitting the mountain ridge in two.
Gu Chengming stood at the bow, already quite familiar with the hand seals used to accelerate the boat.
He remembered the first time he traveled to the capital with Elder Yu. They had used an old model of the sect's flying boats, and it took three days of swaying before they even saw the capital's silhouette.
Back then, he sat in the cabin counting clouds. The more he counted, the more he felt that the distance in this world was truly vast; the gap between one city and another had to be measured in days.
Now, with a flick of his finger, the vessel's speed surged. The sea of clouds was plowed open like a flooded field, parting to create a straight path. If he pushed the arrays to their limit, they could reach the capital in a day and a half.
As this thought crossed his mind, he felt a subtle, ironic amusement.
In his past life, his home was separated from his school by half a city. As a teenager, he would spend an eternity swaying on a bus to get to class, always feeling like the journey had no end. Looking back after he started working, that same distance was barely a fifteen-minute drive.
It seemed that what the world called far or near was never about the road itself.
However, as soon as the thought arose, he dialed back the speed. It wasn't as if they absolutely had to reach the capital today.
A cough sounded from behind him. Gu Chengming turned and met Zhou Qingmu's gaze.
Today, she wore only a simple set of black robes and did not carry Night Severance at her waist. She held a warmed teapot in her hands, her expression far more relaxed than it usually was at the Night Guard Division. "I was wondering if the Feidan was a bit slow and worried there was a problem with the array, so I came to check."
Gu Chengming smiled. "If the boat goes too fast, one cannot see the scenery below clearly."
Zhou Qingmu gave a soft "mm" and didn't press further. She took two steps toward the cabin with the teapot, then paused. Turning back, she asked out of the blue, "I heard Little Gu likes to drink?"
Gu Chengming was startled. "...Where did the Director hear that?"
Zhou Qingmu didn't answer. In truth, a couple of days ago, she had accidentally come across a note in an old report from the Night Guard: "There is a cultivator in the Wenjian Sect who incorporates wine into his sword, breaking arrays while in a drunken state." She had remembered it, and since there were so few high-level cultivators in the Wenjian Sect, she guessed it might be Gu Chengming after some careful thought.
"I have a few jars of spirit wine at home that were given to me by others. They've been sealed for many years." She placed the teapot on the small table by the gunwale. "Next time we return to the capital, I'll bring them for you to drink."
Gu Chengming's heart stirred. He had intended to say he wasn't particularly fond of alcohol and that his drinking was mostly due to his cultivation technique.
The words were at the tip of his tongue when he caught a glimpse of a dialogue box in his peripheral vision.
【Cangxian Wine Sword Art is looking at you pitifully】
Turning his head, he saw Zhou Qingmu looking at him with quite a bit of anticipation as well.
The words of refusal simply couldn't be spoken.
"Then I shall thank the Director in advance."
The corners of Zhou Qingmu's mouth curved upward. When she lowered her head to refill her tea, she seemed so happy that she actually mistook Gu Chengming's cup for her own.
Watching his Director take small sips from his cup, Gu Chengming opened his mouth to speak but ultimately said nothing.
...
In the afternoon, the boat docked at a small town beyond the clouds.
The town wasn't large, with narrow streets lined with white-walled wooden houses topped with blue tiles and decorated with various small banners. Right by the pier where the Feidan docked was a food street, where pastry shops, taverns, and noodle stalls were lined up in sequence. Steam and the scent of flowers swirled together in the wind.
Ren Wencai had instructed Gu Chengming to rest often on the journey, so he suggested they stop the boat here for a meal.
The three of them disembarked. The flow of people on the street wasn't too dense.
Gu Chengming found a noodle stall and ordered three bowls of plain noodles before going to fetch the chopsticks.
When he looked back, Zhou Qingmu and Luo Jinyao were gone. He blinked and looked toward the corner of the street, where he saw their disappearing silhouettes in front of a pastry shop at the mouth of an alley. A wooden sign hung over the shop's door with the words "Chenxiangji" written on it, and the sweet scent of osmanthus drifted out from inside.
Understanding what was happening, Gu Chengming didn't follow them and simply sat back down at the noodle stall to wait.
At the pastry shop, Zhou Qingmu stood before the counter with a serious expression, as if she were conducting an inspection. Seeing this guest who exuded an air of nobility, the proprietress behind the counter was about to greet her.
"Osmanthus cakes," Zhou Qingmu said. "Pick the best ones you have, fresh from the oven."
"You have a good eye, customer. Today's osmanthus cakes—"
Before the proprietress could finish, the door curtain was gently lifted.
Luo Jinyao stood outside the door in light green martial robes, a faint, lingering sword intent trailing behind her. The two women's gazes met in front of the counter.
Zhou Qingmu: "...Elder Luo is also here to buy snacks?"
"Yes." Luo Jinyao nodded. "I wanted something to eat on the road."
"What a coincidence. So did I."
"Mm."
The proprietress asked cautiously, "...Which flavor would the two of you like?"
"Osmanthus," both of them said simultaneously.
The proprietress gave a forced smile. "Oh, the osmanthus cakes have been selling quite well lately. You both have excellent taste."
Gu Chengming waited at the noodle stall for fifteen minutes before the two elders returned, one after the other.
Zhou Qingmu held an oil-paper package, and Luo Jinyao also held an oil-paper package. Both packages were roughly the same size and were stamped with the seal of "Chenxiangji."
Neither of them spoke. At this point, neither could bring themselves to say the words "these snacks are for Little Gu."
Sensing the subtle atmosphere between the two, Gu Chengming's expression became strange.
—What exactly happened?
...
On the second day of the journey, the cloud layers began to thicken. Below the boat were no longer continuous mountain ranges but scattered, fertile fields. The rice stalks were nearly ripe, looking like a golden-powdered carpet from a distance.
Gu Chengming sat cross-legged at the stern to meditate. His true essence had been a bit restless after his recent breakthrough, and this journey was the perfect time to stabilize it. Zhou Qingmu sat not far from him, holding a scroll of recent reports from the Night Guard.
Halfway through, she suddenly remembered something, set down the scroll, and turned to speak. "Little Gu, when you first started learning the sword, which move did you practice first?"
Gu Chengming opened his eyes. "The starting hand of the Huiyuan Sword Manual."
"Oh." Zhou Qingmu nodded. After a moment of silence, she added, "The year I started, the first move I practiced was the Mountain Splitting Style."
Gu Chengming waited for a moment, but she didn't seem to have anything else to say. It seemed she wanted to strike up a conversation but didn't know how to follow up after throwing out the topic, so she could only dryly report her own move.
A hint of strangeness crossed Gu Chengming's mind. He had thought that someone like Director Zhou, who held a high position and dealt with various sects, government offices, and nobles year-round, would be an expert at small talk.
But after spending the last two days with her, he noticed several things that felt off.
She didn't speak much, and before she did, she always seemed to rehearse her phrasing in her mind. Once she spoke, it sounded like she was reading an official report. When she should have followed up, she didn't know how and simply remained silent. When she tried to express closeness, it always leaned toward the tone of a "superior talking to a subordinate."
Of course, what Gu Chengming didn't know was that if it were just about "dealing with people" in officialdom, Zhou Qingmu was indeed quite capable. However, this was the first time in her life she was trying to interact with someone sincerely, and that was why she seemed so clumsy.
That said, perhaps thanks to spending these two days on the flying boat with Zhou Qingmu, he had come to understand the Director a bit better.
His previous understanding of Director Zhou had mostly come from the Zhou Rites Heavenly Rectifying Art. He had always assumed her personality would be similar to the Zhou Rites, but now he realized there were differences.
Zhou Qingmu's personality was actually more "blunt" than Gu Chengming had imagined; to be honest, she was a bit ditsy and quite clumsy in social interactions.
On the other hand, ever since she discovered Zhou Qingmu's lap pillow, Luo Jinyao had also begun to pay close attention to the details of the interactions between Zhou Qingmu and Gu Chengming.
Perhaps because of Luo Jinyao's reminder about looking after him like a junior, Zhou Qingmu's small gestures had clearly increased over the past few days.
During meals, she would quietly put food into Little Gu's bowl. When Little Gu was meditating, Zhou Qingmu would somehow produce a soft cushion and secretly tuck it under his knees.
In the evening, as the boat passed through a particularly beautiful sea of clouds, Zhou Qingmu called Gu Chengming out to watch. After watching for a while, she seemed to remember something and took a small spirit fruit from her sleeve. "I bought this on the road."
Luo Jinyao sat in her own corner, thinking to herself that the Director was being far too obvious.
However, even though the Director's behavior was indeed very deliberate, Little Gu actually seemed to appreciate this clumsy kindness.
Luo Jinyao recalled Little Gu's background—the outer sect of the Wenjian Sect, no father or mother, and no one checking on him even after he hadn't received sect resources for three years.
Thinking of it that way, it wasn't surprising. The concept of "elders" was likely a foreign one to him.
Even if the Director was clumsy, Little Gu accepted the sentiment.
Luo Jinyao suddenly remembered the scene from a few evenings ago at the Back Mountain. When she was peeling snow spirit fruits for Little Gu and wiping the corners of his mouth, Zhou Qingmu had been standing behind a tree not far away. Suddenly, a hint of competitiveness rose in her heart.
She also pulled a white porcelain bottle from her sleeve. These were pills she had refined herself at the northern border, originally intended to be given to him once they reached the capital.
But now she changed her mind, stood up, and walked toward the bow. "Little Gu."
Gu Chengming turned. "Senior Sister Luo."
She walked to the gunwale, pressed the bottle into his hand, and naturally brushed a stray lock of hair that had been blown by the wind behind his ear.
Gu Chengming thanked her, thinking to himself that Senior Sister Luo's maternal radiance seemed to be running at double speed today.
Luo Jinyao's peripheral vision caught Zhou Qingmu staring blankly at the scene from not far away. Her gaze held both envy and a sort of "so that's how it's done" realization.
A rather bad premonition welled up in Luo Jinyao's heart.
...
That premonition was soon proven right.
The next morning, the boat stopped to rest at a cloud island suspended in mid-air.
Gu Chengming had just finished his meditation when he saw Zhou Qingmu walking over slowly with a food tray. On the tray was a peeled spirit peach, the flesh cut into perfect squares and stacked like a small tower. She said with a light smile, "Spirit peaches. Those from the northern border are a bit astringent, those from the Wenjian Sect are a bit too sweet, but those from the capital are just right—a perfect balance of sweet and sour."
Gu Chengming thought to himself that those words sounded suspiciously familiar. Then Zhou Qingmu remembered something, pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it over.
"Wipe your mouth."
"I haven't eaten yet, Director..."
Hearing this, Zhou Qingmu seemed a bit embarrassed. She pulled the handkerchief back, her ears turning slightly red.
She turned and walked away a few steps, standing silently in the corner of the cabin for a while before pulling a small notebook from her robes and adding a note.
Gu Chengming moved closer, pretending to look at the clouds outside the cabin while his divine sense swept over the handwriting in the notebook: "Hand over snacks before speaking," "Peel fruit into squares," "Wipe mouth after eating," "Don't hesitate to brush hair."
—What the hell is this?
A question mark popped up over Gu Chengming's head. But immediately after, his divine sense perceived Luo Jinyao on the other side of the Feidan also slowly pulling out a small notebook.
She flipped it open and wrote a few lines: "Pretending not to know that stealthily drinking from Little Gu's cup was forgiven," "The method of care is obviously deliberate, but Little Gu appreciates it," "...Progress speed is higher than estimated, must accelerate my own pace."
Seriously, what kind of new game are you two playing?
【Huiyuan Sword Manual has a sudden realization: So it can be done like this!】
【It writes stroke by stroke: Pretending not to know that stealthily drinking from Little Gu's cup was forgiven】
Gu Chengming: "?" You're starting too?!
That night, Gu Chengming entered the Huiyuan Sword Manual of Love, letting a certain manual that wanted to "taste saliva" eat its fill.
...
Ninety miles south of the capital, Luoxia Ferry.
Luoxia Ferry was the last of the seven major docking points for the capital, located in a remote area with a mixed crowd.
Anyone with status entering the capital would usually take the Xuanwu Ferry to the north, where members of the Night Guard would be waiting to guide them as soon as their flying boat arrived. Those who diverted to Luoxia Ferry were either outer sect disciples from various sects out for experience or rogue cultivators who didn't want to be questioned.
For example, the person currently perched on the branch of the old pagoda tree outside the ferry dock.
He wore a set of green Daoist robes and was thin with refined features, looking exactly like a teacher from a private school in Jiangnan. However, if anyone were to get within three feet of him, they would see that his eyes had no whites; his entire eye sockets were filled with a pool of ink-black oil.
He called himself Yu Xinji, and the title given to him by the Longevity Sect was "Inkstone Deacon."
According to the sect's rules, his level of cultivation counted as half-attaining longevity; the next rank up would be a proper Fourth Realm malevolent spirit.
However, in his own mind, Yu Xinji already considered himself a Fourth Realm expert.
He crouched on the branch of the pagoda tree, squinting his ink-black eyes as he looked down at the ferry dock below. The wind blew from the direction of the southern city, carrying a hint of cloyingly sweet osmanthus fragrance. Yu Xinji had become very familiar with this scent lately.
Since last month, the scent of osmanthus had been drifting everywhere in the capital. On the surface, it was just the season, and the imperial osmanthus garden in the western suburbs had bloomed early. But mixed within this fragrance was something else.
It was the "Aspiration Dust" deployed by the sect.
It was an extremely sophisticated powder, formless and intangible, attached to the pollen. Those who inhaled it would show no signs for three days. After seven days, irritability would grow in their hearts, and after half a month, they would begin to feel doubt about their own Dao path.
The higher one's cultivation, the harder it was to detect, because high-level experts focused on their state of mind and were more likely to mistake that irritability for their own internal struggle.
When the Great Longevity Banquet began, ninety percent of the rogue cultivators and outer sect disciples in the capital would become "Joyful Guests" for the sect.
Yu Xinji's job at Luoxia Ferry was to scan the flying boats entering and leaving the capital every few days.
Whenever he found young disciples sent from sects, he would slip into the boat and, while they were meditating, attach an extremely fine and weak "Aspiration Seed" to their divine sense. This seed would resonate with the osmanthus fragrance, and when that day arrived, it would count toward his merit for the year.
In short, it was a dirty job that no one in the sect liked to do, but it was necessary.
A flying boat appeared at the edge of the sea of clouds.
The hull was plain, without any sect banners, and its speed wasn't fast. It drifted out from the gap in the clouds as if it were afraid of spilling the tea of those inside.
Yu Xinji's spirits lifted. Another group of outer sect disciples out for experience.
Those who didn't hang banners were mostly afraid of causing trouble in the capital, and those who went slowly were mostly afraid that their disciples' cultivation was too shallow to stabilize the boat.
It was perfect for him.
He leaped down from the pagoda tree branch, his body turning into a wisp of extremely faint green smoke. He circled to the bottom of the boat and silently attached himself to the hull.
The hull vibrated slightly, a tremor so light that even an ordinary cultivator wouldn't have noticed, let alone some outer sect disciples.
Yu Xinji nodded to himself in secret.
He pressed against the hull, and once the boat was over Luoxia Ferry, he seeped through a gap in the simple boat array.
The moment he entered the boat, he followed the old sect rules and stabilized his divine sense, shrinking himself into a thin shadow pressed against the cabin ceiling. He would first see the layout of the cabin before deciding who to attach himself to.
He looked down. The cabin wasn't large. In the center was a small table with two portions of osmanthus cakes, both from the same pastry shop, even the "Chenxiangji" seal on the oil-paper was identical.
Two women sat by the table. One wore simple black robes, a long blade leaning against the cabin wall beside her. The other was in light green martial robes, her silver hair falling to her waist as she unhurriedly peeled a spirit peach.
Yu Xinji's gaze crawled up the lusterless black blade. The blade's surface did not reflect the sunlight; its killing intent was restrained like an abyss.
This was clearly the natal treasure of the Director of the Great Qian Night Guard—Night Severance!
At this realization, Yu Xinji was stunned. Could he have misidentified her? Was that Zhou Qingmu?! That Living Yama who would pull out the souls of Longevity Sect members and use them as lanterns, whose name could stop a child's crying in the capital?!
Yu Xinji felt like his brain was short-circuiting. He moved his gaze between the two women to the young man sitting obediently in the middle, holding half an osmanthus cake in one hand while waiting for the spirit peach with the other.
It was the Falling Snow Pass Murder Demon, Gu Chengming!!
If you asked who the Longevity Sect members used to fear most, it was definitely Zhou Qingmu. She didn't care about the attitudes of anyone in the imperial court; if she encountered a Longevity Sect member, she would slice them in half without hesitation. Combined with her overwhelming strength, countless sect members had fallen by her hand, including some who were nearly at the Sixth Realm.
But if you asked who the Longevity Sect members feared most now, it was undoubtedly Gu Chengming.
The title "Falling Snow Pass Murder Demon" was earned by killing members of the Longevity Sect!
Furthermore, this man was extremely sinister. He could kill Third and Fourth Realm evil cultivators and Longevity Sect members with only Second or Third Realm cultivation. He killed Longevity Sect members on sight, giving no chance for negotiation. Most terrifyingly, his methods were brutal, leaving no intact corpses. It was hard to tell who the actual evil cultist was. The Longevity Sect members who fell into his hands all turned into mashed tomatoes as if they had been struck by a heavy hammer, because they were almost entirely reduced to mangled flesh.
"Run!!"
Yu Xinji made a split-second decision.
Luo Jinyao and Zhou Qingmu, who were secretly engaged in their "Battle for the Mom Persona," sensed this wisp of malevolent aura almost at the same time.
For the two of them, who were currently frustrated at not having a chance to demonstrate their superior maternal power to Gu Chengming, this was simply a target sent from the heavens.
Yu Xinji didn't even have a thousandth of a second to resist before he felt a peerless blood-fiend astral qi mixed with a chilling sword intent. It literally tore him off the ceiling like a plaster and slammed him onto the small table with the osmanthus cakes with a "splat."
Astral qi sealed him, a sword array suppressed him, and several spirit talismans were slapped firmly onto his forehead.
He was forced to manifest his semi-transparent original form, slumped on the table. He looked up in despair, and what met his eyes were three large faces surrounding him, looking down from above.
Zhou Qingmu looked at him expressionlessly. Luo Jinyao frowned slightly, her face full of disgust that he had dirtied the table where she had just peeled a peach for Little Gu.
And that legendary "Falling Snow Pass Murder Demon," who supposedly turned every Longevity Sect member into mangled flesh, was looking at him with a wide grin.
Rate on N.U.
