Chapter 4: The Second Disciple

“This is just how I am. I’m in a good mood today—what, are you scared?” Bai Teng cast him a sidelong glance. “If you’re not convinced, go spar with Wenwen.”

Qiao Yu stood awkwardly in place, not understanding what was going on. He didn’t dare say a word.

“I’m just taking him away like this?” Wen Jinge asked, “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“What a joke!” Shan Hongxing snorted. “Since when do you care about following rules?”

“Great-aunt is pleased today, wants to follow them this once, and you won’t allow it?” Wen Jinge replied.

Shan Hongxing couldn’t help but look at her twice, then said to Qiao Yu, “What are you standing there for? This is your master, and you’re special—on this whole mountain, only she can teach you! Who knows how you got so lucky.”

“I must have chosen the right parents in my past life,” Wen Jinge said flippantly. As a villain, one must learn to debase oneself in front of the protagonist, let him dislike you.

Shan Hongxing reddened with suppressed anger. He remembered that today was only the first day of recruitment and retreated with an embarrassed face.

But he wasn’t wrong: a natural sword prodigy might not be so fortunate in another sect, for no one would dare teach him. Should anything go wrong, even the best talent would be wasted. Yet, their founder, their master, and Wen Jinge herself all shared this constitution.

“My dear, are you sure you’ve got the right kid?” Bai Teng draped herself lazily over Wen Jinge’s shoulder and spoke through their shared cultivation method. “This apprentice of yours seems so simple-minded. He looks like he’s about to cry, staring at his straw sandals. It’s almost comical!”

“There shouldn’t be a mistake,” Wen Jinge replied, rubbing her aching temples as they walked. “Where’s your home?”

“I…I don’t have a home anymore.” The child, earnest and good-natured, feared Wen Jinge wouldn’t believe him, so he explained, “There was plague and flooding. I got separated from my family and begged my way here. I heard there was food, so I came.”

“Food?” Wen Jinge instinctively glanced at her own belly. She hadn’t eaten since arriving. “Senior sister, how long has it been since we last ate?”

“Not long—just over two hundred years.” Bai Teng played with Wen Jinge’s hair, braiding it as she spoke. “This foolish boy was probably tricked by someone.”

A flicker of panic flashed across Qiao Yu’s face as both seniors looked at him. “Did I…should I not have come up the mountain?”

“What can you do?” Wen Jinge asked.

The question left Qiao Yu confused. Seeing that his new master seemed ill-tempered, he was even more afraid to speak.

“Your spiritual energy is zero; you’re not even as good as a sweeper in the inner court. You’d better show me some skills, or why should I feed you?”

Tears welled in his eyes, but, after all, he was a child who’d grown up wild—he managed to hold them back.

“Can you serve tea, clean the house, chop wood, start a fire, cook?”

“I…” Qiao Yu sniffled. “I can. And if I can’t, I can learn.”

“Don’t let me see your tears; it disgusts me.” Wen Jinge clicked her tongue, flicked her sleeve, and, seeing he was still rooted to the spot, grew impatient. “What are you spacing out for? Keep up!”

Bai Teng slipped off her and knew Wen Jinge was truly angry. She said sweetly, “I always thought there’d be some magical artifact left in the Burning Heaven Sect! The old master said he left it just for you, to rein you in. You’ve mellowed out a bit since then, but only with us, it seems.”

“Did Master say anything else?” This part wasn’t in Wen Jinge’s memories, so she used their secret method to ask.

Qiao Yu trailed behind pitifully, only able to see the two seniors walking ahead. The atmosphere was so heavy, he didn’t even dare lift his head.

“The old man said you mustn’t leave the mountain until you’ve accepted a disciple and that you must leave through the Burning Heaven Gate. He said that’s your fate.

My dear, you may fool the others, but you can’t fool Ai Fengling and me. Your cultivation is scattered.

From your former third rank, now you can barely manage the fifth. I thought your disciple would at least be seventh rank, but this fool is an ordinary person.

Everything the old man said has come true. You’re destined to go down the mountain, and this boy is a gift from the heavens. Treat him well—perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

“Maybe he is my fate.” Wen Jinge shook her head. “If I’m doomed to die because of him, I might as well be even harsher now.”

Bai Teng was speechless.

“Do you want to see other candidates with ‘Yu’ in their names?” Today was only the first day of recruitment; there were still six more. The business about a dream was a lie Wen Jinge made up to search for Qiao Yu. The inner court disciples at least sparred, but the ones from outside merely placed their hands on the spirit stone for a test and registration—truly dull.

“Do you want to?” Wen Jinge seemed to recall the tagalong behind her and asked Qiao Yu, “If you do, stay. If not, change out of those rags—people in mourning look better than you!”

“And who are you calling a mourner?” Qiao Yu protested.

Wen Jinge’s voice was so loud it drew many eyes. The three of them stood out with their casual attire and differing status.

Someone was about to come over and scold them for disrespecting the sect, but then his eyes widened, nearly fainting. “Peak Master Wen, Peak Master Bai!”

Wen Jinge glanced at the subtle embroidery on his robe—a sign of an elder. He was plump and cheerful-looking. “Your surname is Bai?”

“Ah! Yes.”

“So ugly—you look like a giant white radish.”

Bai Teng covered her mouth, laughing. “Isn’t that a coincidence, little ancestor? That means you’re insulting yourself too!”

“Forget it, keep wearing those for now. In a few days, I’ll get you something nicer.” Wen Jinge’s head throbbed. She needed to find a way to put Qiao Yu through the wringer, but at least everyone was used to her ways. “Elder Bai…”

“I wouldn’t dare, Peak Master. What are your orders?”

“Do you have any cloth?” As she spoke, she sized up Qiao Yu. This brat hardly matched Lu Feiyu, that little fairy.

“Yes, yes, anything you need, Peak Master.” Bai Rongfa thought to himself, With so many disciples, if everyone gets new clothes, what a fine opportunity!

“Tonight, he—” She pointed at Qiao Yu. “What’s your name?”

Qiao Yu opened his mouth, about to answer, but Wen Jinge cut him off impatiently. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. He’s my new second disciple. I’ll write it down and have him bring it to you.”

After arriving at Wanzhang Peak, Qiao Yu was kept busy with a thorough cleaning. It was already midnight, yet he was still outside chopping wood.

Spirit Masters had nine ranks, each with three tiers. Without sect support, sixth rank was the limit.

After reaching fifth rank, one’s appearance would cease to change, and fasting became possible.

Liang Si watched his junior brother working tirelessly and felt a bit uneasy. Their master was obviously putting the boy through the wringer.

“Master.” He poured Wen Jinge some tea and looked uncertainly at the busy figure outside. “Aren’t we being a bit too harsh?”

Wen Jinge tapped the table, rolling up her blueprints. “Did he have dinner?”

“I brought a meal from Lingxiao Peak, but little junior hasn’t eaten yet.”

“Do you know the fire spell?”

“Huh?”

“Heat it up for him.”

“Oh.”

“Is he still wearing those beggar’s rags?”

“He said they’re dirty and will change after finishing the chores.” The result was, the chores only kept piling up.

Wen Jinge stuffed the blueprints into an envelope and handed it to Liang Si. “Give this to him after he eats. Tell him to go to the outer mountain and find Bai Rongfa.”

“Now?”