Chapter 3

“Why won’t you let me keep it…” I crouched angrily on the steps, glancing at Bai Wei, who was imitating my posture. “A disciple just came to see me, saying the peak of Du Hua Mountain to the west has been leveled. Do you know who did it?”

I silently shielded Bai Wei behind me.

Fuguang lowered his head with a hint of helplessness. “A new guest has arrived on the mountain. The methods of the Yin-Yang sect are cunning. You’d better have little contact with him.”

“He’s the one my second brother brought to treat me!” I said loudly.

Fuguang looked at me quietly. “It’s not that you shouldn’t see him, but Master has also tried the Yin-Yang arts before.”

I immediately wilted. Since I was very young, Father had taken me to visit many masters. I had actually met a sage from the Yin-Yang sect once. That sage glanced at me, dozing in Father’s arms, then shook his head and said, “The life star is dim... Lord, you cannot keep her.”

Though I was confused then, I sensed it wasn’t good news. So, when Father wasn’t looking, I secretly made a face at him. The Yin-Yang sage happened to look up—those eyes left a deep impression on me: desolate and lightless, the irises a pale hue, like a light-sucking vortex, bottomless. Those pale eyes were fixed on me.

Frightened, I buried my head in Father’s arms, not daring to look up. The Lord patted my back but said nothing.

I thought the Yin-Yang sage wasn’t always right, because here I was—alive and kicking.

Fuguang carried a bamboo slip past me. “In three months, the Jixia Academy will hold the Hundred Schools Banquet. Mount Jiuzhong has also received an invitation. Phoenix and I will accompany Master to attend.”

Jixia Academy is a sacred site where ancient sages once debated the Way. It gathered the wisest from across the land. After the sages retired, the place gradually lost its divine power. Today, it stands more as a symbol—the undisputed center of the Hundred Schools of Thought.

Though the schools today are less illustrious than before, they still maintain ancient traditions. Periodically, they gather to exchange insights or spar intellectually. It’s also a great opportunity to gain fame. People outside the schools can attend as well, making this one of the rare lively occasions in the cultivation world each year.

Fuguang finally finished organizing the scattered bamboo slips. Sitting down, he faced a chessboard. Bai Wei curiously grabbed a handful of black stones, attempting to pop them into her mouth, but I quickly stopped her.

“Xiwei, do you remember what I taught you before?” Fuguang asked calmly.

Senior Brother had taught me many things before—from interpreting scriptures to identifying herbs. He always seemed to know so much. Every question I asked found an answer. He cared for all of us, remembered our birthdays and preferences, yet no one seemed to know what he liked.

Fuguang held the white stones; I held the black. I quickly lost. My chess skills were taught by Father. Though I hadn’t inherited even a tenth of his talent, he occasionally played chess in his room, always playing against himself when I visited.

“Can I go to the Hundred Schools Banquet?” I asked nervously. Because of my health, Father rarely took me out. Most of the time, I stayed on the mountain. Mount Jiuzhong was sparsely populated, more like a hidden sect. It rarely revealed itself; outsiders found it difficult to locate, let alone be accepted.

Occasionally, mountain hunters would mistakenly wander into the mountain’s confusing mists. Bai Ze would personally escort them back. I loved accompanying Bai Ze on these trips, sneaking off to play at the foot of the mountain afterward.

Fuguang remained calm. “Xiwei, if you want to go, no one can stop you.”

“But will Father agree?”

Fuguang glanced at me. “Master will agree.”

I was half skeptical.

I had another reason to want to attend the banquet. In the story I knew, the Hundred Schools Banquet was where the protagonist’s first life rose to fame. It was also when my father first noticed him, sparking the feud between the protagonist and antagonist. I didn’t know the protagonist’s current status, so I wanted to see for myself.

My idea of changing my family’s fate was vague. I thought the simplest way was to prevent the protagonist and my father from ever meeting. Since discovering I had transmigrated into this book, I had been pondering the plot and setting. The rule that only one with the same fate can survive seemed too ruthless. What kind of logic was this?

As for whether I should eliminate the protagonist for my father to rise… well, I had considered it before. After all, by kinship, my father ranked higher.

But to kill someone with my own hands, especially a fellow transmigrant from my hometown… my father had never even let me kill a chicken. So that plan got shelved for now.

Most importantly, I didn’t know which life the protagonist had been reborn into. If it was already the third life late in the novel… how could I reasonably tell my father that he had a destined nemesis secretly trying to kill him?

…Such a headache.

Senior Brother finished his tasks and was about to meet my second brother. This time, my second brother returned not only with a sage but also a rare herb. When I was young, Father took me to visit the Medicine Sage, who prescribed several remedies. One prescription had never been brewed due to missing a key ingredient. Unexpectedly, my second brother still remembered.

Wait! Did that mean I had to drink more medicine again…

Jiang Wen found me unwilling to see Zou Yan’s acupuncture treatment by the Qinglian Pond. He stepped lightly.

“Xiwei,” he called softly.

I hurriedly hid the thing in my sleeve.

Luckily, Jiang Wen didn’t notice my movement. He sat beside me, smiling. “Still the same as when you were little—when upset, you hide here.”

He picked a lotus seed pod and handed me a seed. I was busy holding down the item in my hand, unable to reach out, so I opened my mouth. Jiang Wen calmly fed me the peeled seed. I swallowed it quickly, afraid my second brother would notice.

“Xiwei, Si Gui will be back soon,” Jiang Wen suddenly said.

I stiffened, nearly forgetting what I was doing. Jiang Wen sighed. “Are you still mad at him?”

“I’m not mad at him,” I muttered.

“Then why haven’t you replied to any of his letters?” Jiang Wen asked slowly.

“They weren’t really letters!” I growled. Over the years, he was often away. A few years ago, he occasionally sent me fresh things to lower my guard. Later, the gifts became stranger—from unknown animal carcasses to spirit-engraved stones. The stones always showed a pale hand—either killing or burying bodies.

Who sends such things normally?

Every time I received one, I had nightmares for days.

Jiang Wen laughed helplessly. “I saw him a few years ago in Yindu. He… has changed a lot.”

More twisted, I thought bitterly.

“The Lord of Yindu is a master of both medicine and poison, once apprenticed under the Medicine Sage,” Jiang Wen explained.

I scratched my head, puzzled why Jiang Wen mentioned this. Jiang Wen smiled gently. “All these years outside, I wondered how Xiwei was at home. Now, I know firsthand imagination can’t compare to the real thing.”

My second brother comforted me, telling me not to fear Mr. Zou’s treatment—he was careful. I nodded half-heartedly while tightly holding my sleeve. I didn’t know if he noticed anything.

Only after he left did I carefully open my sleeve.

A snow-white little snake slipped out. I patted my chest, sighing in relief.

“That was close, that was close. Senior Brother won’t let me keep you, so you must never be discovered, little Bai.”