novelraw Chapter 119 : Qiu Yuehan Wants to Learn the Sword
Chapter 119 : Qiu Yuehan Wants to Learn the Sword
Chapter 119: Qiu Yuehan Wants to Learn the Sword
When the small snowflakes falling from the sky blanketed the entire Heavenly Mountain in a layer of hazy white, the white gauze palanquin halted before the Dao Sect’s gates.
Qiu Yuehan stepped out from the palanquin expressionlessly, then let out a long breath. The rising white mist reflected that although this Moon Fairy’s expression was cold, the temperature within her body was not low at all.
Not long ago, she had just pretended to awaken from a long slumber.
Lu Changyuan and Xia Lianxue had already cleaned up the aftermath, but to make the act look convincing, she still asked her Junior Sister a question: “Junior Sister, is there some strange smell?”
Xia Lianxue merely looked at her with a faint smile, saying nothing.
That made Qiu Yuehan too embarrassed to ask again.
Just recalling the process of pounding the rice cake with her own eyes, even the Moon Fairy—whose state of mind was usually stabilized with the Supreme Pure-Spirit Forget-Immortal Technique—couldn’t help the faint flush that crept onto her cheeks.
She cultivated the Red Dust Sword Dao, not Lu Changyuan’s Emotionless Dao; thus, she would not become another Daoist Chang’an in the future. At this moment, she was even wondering whether pounding rice cakes might also count as a part of the Red Dust.
So troublesome.
“Senior Sister? Why did you stop moving?”
The Little Fairy’s gentle voice drifted over, her cheeks as rosy as a peony blooming amidst snow—radiantly beautiful.
Qiu Yuehan deliberately ignored her Junior Sister’s charming appearance and instead turned to Lu Changyuan. “There are some things I wish to ask you.”
Lu Changyuan looked at her in confusion.
The Moon Fairy asked, “Can a person cultivate two Daos at the same time?”
Lu Changyuan almost thought Qiu Yuehan had regained her memories. But after a moment’s thought, he relaxed—if the Nether Lord truly had returned, wouldn’t she already be fighting the Little Fairy by now? How could she be blushing while watching rice cakes being pounded in silence?
As for cultivating two Daos simultaneously—Lu Changyuan was perhaps the only one qualified to speak on that.
Generally speaking, cultivators could only focus on one Dao; the higher one’s cultivation, the more this was true. Splitting one’s focus between two would lead to certain death—especially since one could only possess a single Jade Radiance Law.
Lu Changyuan cultivated two Daos only because he had fused them into one Jade Radiance Law—that being the Supreme Pure-Spirit Forget-Immortal Technique.
Precisely because this was his Jade Radiance Law, even though he had passed it on to the Dao Sect Master and to Qiu Yuehan, neither of them could ever reach the final Supreme State.
The Supreme realm belonged solely to Jade Radiance cultivators like Daoist Chang’an.
The Nether Lord was the same—her Nether Kingdom was her Jade Radiance Law.
Although Qiu Yuehan could now cultivate the Red Dust Sword Dao, when she eventually ascended to Jade Radiance, she would encounter the problem of already possessing a Jade Radiance Law.
Then what should be done?
She couldn’t very well shatter the Nether Kingdom, could she?
Lu Changyuan narrowed his eyes. “The suffering of death in the Red Dust already overlaps somewhat with the Dao of Death. When the time comes, you can simply merge it into your own kingdom.”
If the Dao of Death within the Nether Kingdom were to gain the essence of the Red Dust, what would happen to those spirits?
Best not to think about it.
Lifeless spirits mixed with the vibrant essence of the Red Dust—perhaps a monster would be born in the cultivation world.
Lu Changyuan gave Qiu Yuehan a once-over.
Never mind.
She was one of his own.
The Moon Fairy brushed her long black hair back behind her ear and said softly, “So those weren’t dreams after all. You remember them too.”
?
Weren’t we talking about cultivation? How did it suddenly veer into asking whether memories were real or not? Who had led this once-cold fairy astray?
Qiu Yuehan’s lips curved slightly. “Junior Sister, you two head back first. I’ll make a trip to the mortal dynasty—I want to buy some things.”
Lu Changyuan froze, watching as that black-skirted figure slowly walked away toward the Heavenly Mountain.
“Young Master?”
A voice tinged with chill rose behind him. “Is there something between you and Senior Sister—apart from that demon mark—that I don’t know about?”
Lu Changyuan kept his face expressionless, withdrawing his spirit so that the Little Fairy couldn’t sense a thing.
“I’m only going to teach her swordsmanship.”
The Little Fairy in white smiled softly. “Really?”
“When have I ever lied to you?”
“Hmph!”
Whenever Lu Changyuan said that, Xia Lianxue couldn’t say anything more. It was their unspoken understanding.
“I won’t go inside then.”
Heavenly Mountain housed the Dao Sect Master—entering could be dangerous. But before Lu Changyuan could finish speaking, a figure in red appeared before them.
Jiang Jiayi’s voice rang out, “You can come in. She isn’t here.”
The Dao Sect Master wasn’t here?
Lu Changyuan frowned. “Where did she go?”
“A few days ago, the Desire Demon reacted—half its body descended. She charged into the Outer Heavens and hasn’t returned.”
That would have been around the time when Lu Changyuan was battling the Desire Demon.
He asked blankly, “Then why hasn’t she come back?”
Jiang Jiayi gritted her teeth slightly, but the thought that she could now temporarily take the Sect Master’s place and reclaim everything that once belonged to her made her hope that the Sect Master wouldn’t return too soon.
“I don’t know either. But now, you can come back to Heavenly Mountain for a look.”
So he did.
Outside the Heavenly Mountain, the surrounding peaks were already filled with festive cheer. Red lanterns hung from wooden pavilions, and disciples were pasting hand-written Spring Festival couplets on the gates.
If one didn’t look closely, one might not believe this was the strongest sect in the White Domain—it looked far too steeped in the Red Dust.
Lu Changyuan was dazzled by the sight.
How wonderful.
Jiang Jiayi said softly, “It’s the New Year soon. According to your instruction, aside from those in seclusion, all cultivators will rest for a few days and resume cultivation after New Year’s Eve.”
Lu Changyuan smiled. “That’s good. Cultivators are people too—mortals are people too. One should always leave oneself a moment to breathe.”
Back when he was still a mortal, the thing Lu Changyuan looked forward to most was the New Year. And as he waited, the year would come—fires crackling, sweet tangerines, pastries and candies—within the hazy glow of the firelight, one could glimpse the flavor of years long gone.
This year’s snow was heavy again. Perhaps next year’s harvest would be good. Snow was always a blessing.
Pulling himself from his thoughts, he heard the Red-Robed Sword Immortal’s voice drift near and far: “Then this year, will your clear broth noodles—”
Back when Lu Changyuan was stationed at Heavenly Mountain suppressing demons, his New Year’s meal always included a bowl of clear broth noodles.
Of course, whether others ate it or not was unimportant—they could eat whatever they liked. But for him and his disciples, that bowl was a must.
The Dao Sect Master had never shared any good days with Daoist Chang’an.
What a pity.
“As before.”
The Little Fairy in white spoke softly by Lu Changyuan’s ear, her voice clinging like silk. “Why does Young Master like eating clear broth noodles? Back at Noodle Granny’s place it was the same, and now it’s still the same. Are you commemorating someone?”
Even that was guessed by her.
Lu Changyuan reached out and pinched Xia Lianxue’s cheek—it felt soft, like cotton. “I was poor before, and could only afford clear broth noodles. I got used to it.”
The Little Fairy made a regretful “oh,” not realizing that Lu Changyuan had never denied commemorating someone.
Because what he said wasn’t the full truth.
When he said he was poor, he didn’t mean his days as a doctor. He meant back when he and the Sun-Moon Palace Mistress roamed the cultivation world together—when their strength was still weak, they hadn’t learned to fast, and they were so poor they could only eat that. They’d gotten used to it.
So he hadn’t lied to her—just hadn’t told the whole story.
When the three reached the foot of the mountain, they were met with a scene entirely different from Lu Changyuan’s memories. Four houses now stood there.
Before, there had only been one—where the Dao Sect Master lived as a disciple. Later, when she took the Sect Master’s position, she gave the house to Jiang Jiayi, and the place had remained cold and desolate.
But now, with four houses—it was anything but desolate, almost lively.
Lu Changyuan immediately spotted someone peculiar pasting Spring Festival couplets.
Silver-haired and blindfolded—the Little Ancestor of Cihang Palace, Su Youwan.
Why was Su Youwan pasting couplets?
Lu Changyuan pointed at her, then looked at Jiang Jiayi.
The Red-Robed Sword Immortal replied, “She seemed curious. Since Cihang Palace doesn’t celebrate the New Year, she decided to help.”
“That’s not what I was asking.”
Jiang Jiayi turned back to the person she admired most. “Then what do you mean?”
Lu Changyuan’s expression stiffened. “I mean, why isn’t she using spiritual power to paste them, and why are the ‘Fortune’ characters perfectly straight?”
Su Youwan’s ethereal voice floated over. “It makes my sincerity more apparent.”
When she worshiped at Cihang, she hadn’t seemed half as sincere.
Xia Lianxue looked nervously at Lu Changyuan. She still remembered what Su Youwan had said before—that Lu Changyuan had eaten her emotions. Who knew what might happen if he met her again?
What if the Young Master’s beastly instincts awoke, and he pounced—turning the snow white with the blood of Cihang’s Little Fairy?
Xia Lianxue bit her lip. She had done all she could—draining Lu Changyuan’s energy in the past few days—but fate was cruel. The Young Master was stronger now; she had lost. That left a hidden danger!
Young Master, please don’t pounce… huh?
She looked at him and saw that his expression hadn’t changed at all; even his pulse was steady.
He seemed unaffected.
Wonderful.
But before she could feel relieved—
Lu Changyuan spoke: “Miss Su.”
Su Youwan nodded slightly. “It has been a while, Young Master Lu. Are you in good health?”
When he nodded, she added softly, “Mei Zhao Zhao asked me to tell you—she said you must remember her, that she will come back to find you.”
Lu Changyuan’s neck stiffened as he turned to look at Xia Lianxue.
The Little Fairy in white was, as expected, smiling with narrowed eyes—her gentleness laced with something indescribably terrifying.
“Young Master? Who is Mei Zhao Zhao?”
They had just been talking about clear broth noodles—how did it come to this?
What was wrong with Su Youwan, saying things like that so casually?!
Jiang Jiayi watched with amusement. To her, the current Dao Sect Master was far more likable than before—back then, even if she stripped before him, his gaze would not waver. Now, he’d at least turn away. How interesting.
The silver-haired girl seemed unaware of any tension, merely nodding before returning to her room.
No one knew what kind of storm surged beneath her calm exterior.
For the first time, she could hear her own heartbeat.
Thump!
Once and again—like the beating of a drum.
That was emotion. Because Lu Changyuan had eaten her emotions, when Su Youwan looked at him, it was as if she were seeing her own feelings—those emotions mingled with a man’s scent, intoxicatingly fragrant, giving her an impulse to devour Lu Changyuan and merge with him once more.
Su Youwan understood.
It wasn’t Lu Changyuan who wanted to pounce on her—it was she who wanted to pounce on him.
Her fourth brother had said that this feeling of finding someone different, the heart thumping dong-dong—was that… liking?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Qiu Yuehan descended the mountain, facing the falling snow once again as she entered the mortal dynasty.
Within the dynasty, the upper floors around her were dusted with clean white snow, cold and pure like herself.
Qiu Yuehan brushed the snow from her robes and, with a few light steps, arrived at the same clothing shop where she had bought clothes last time.
The shopkeeper was warming herself by the brazier, the soft light of the coals glowing warmly, enough to make one drowsy.
The lady shopkeeper’s eyes sparkled. “Oh my, isn’t this the fairy from last time… What brings you here today?”
Qiu Yuehan stepped into the shop. “According to this style, make me two more sets.”
The golden customer had returned! The shopkeeper rubbed her hands together, smiling brightly. “Is it urgent? If it is…”
The Moon Fairy tossed over a bulging pouch. “I want them now.”
“Ah, then you can come pick them up in a while!”
Qiu Yuehan nodded but seemed to have something on her mind, though the words wouldn’t come out.
The shopkeeper didn’t dare neglect her and said, “If you have any special requests, just say so—I’ll even give you a ten-percent discount.”
Yet the Moon Fairy still hesitated.
After a long while—
The shopkeeper ventured a guess. “Is it that the clothes are… a bit too long?”
Qiu Yuehan let out a quiet sigh of relief. “A little—it drags on the ground.”
But looking down, the shopkeeper thought the length was just right. Still, she understood perfectly well what these fairies were usually after. She’d dealt with such requests more than a few times.
“In that case, shall I shorten it to about here?”
She pointed to the calf area.
Qiu Yuehan tilted her head and drew a line instead—higher than that. That would reveal most of her slender, well-shaped legs.
The shopkeeper exclaimed, “If others see this, they’ll—well, as you wish.”
“Just like that. It’s for sword practice—shorter means better ventilation.”
Mm. Ventilation.
The shopkeeper gave an ambiguous smile. “Since it’s for ventilation, why not make a slit at the side and tie it with a cord? That’ll be even more breathable.”
Seeing Qiu Yuehan remain silent, the shopkeeper grew nervous and was about to speak again when the fairy turned and left.
“I’ll come back later to collect it. Just open a slit on one; the second one needs neither slit nor shortening.”
Got it, got it.
One was for training; the other for daily wear and washing.
The fairy soon disappeared into the swirling snow.
She didn’t even know what madness had taken her—her mind kept running wild with strange thoughts. Especially when she saw Lu Changyuan and Xia Lianxue together, inseparable as one—she felt stifled. The skirt in her dreams had been shorter!
That’s right—shorter!
Walking along the bustling street, Qiu Yuehan saw the mortal dynasty filled with festive cheer. Vendors lined the road, selling all kinds of roasted snacks and treats.
So this is the human world.
She couldn’t help thinking so.
In the past, she had not belonged to the Human Clan. Later, after joining the Jade Palace to cultivate, she had lived far from the mundane world. Only now, at this age, was she truly feeling the warmth of the mortal realm.
“Hmm?”
Qiu Yuehan looked ahead in puzzlement—there was a quarrel at a corner up ahead.
“Our price is already generous. Don’t be so ungrateful!” The speaker was a blue-robed cultivator.
A cultivator.
In this mortal dynasty under the Dao Sect’s jurisdiction, there were often cultivators living quietly among mortals, rarely displaying their strength and never oppressing the people—modest, unassuming, almost indistinguishable from locals.
But today was different. That blue-robed cultivator seemed ready to use a spell, apparently trying to forcefully buy something from the shopkeeper before him.
Oppressing mortals under the Dao Sect’s rule? Had he grown tired of living?
Qiu Yuehan stepped forward, her fair face like frost. “What’s happening here?”
She soon realized it was an antique shop, displaying jade carvings and porcelain. The shopkeeper was an amiable-looking old man with a white beard.
The antique dealer spotted Qiu Yuehan as if seeing a savior. “Are you a celestial from the Dao Sect?”
Qiu Yuehan replied calmly, “You could say that.”
“Then, immortal, please uphold justice for me! They’re trying to force me to sell my wares.”
The old man pointed to an item. “I picked this up years ago—it’s extremely hard, so I just kept it here as a decoration.”
Inside a glass cabinet lay a small, pitch-black stone that emitted a faint, eerie glow.
Qiu Yuehan shook her head. “You don’t want to sell it, do you?”
“Yes.”
Qiu Yuehan turned to the blue-robed cultivator. “He doesn’t want to sell. Leave—or fight me.”
The blue-robed cultivator flinched. He was only at the Third Realm, unable to withstand even her aura, and so fled in disgrace.
The antique dealer let out a long breath. “Thank you, immortal.”
Qiu Yuehan glanced at the black stone. “Keep that well.”
The old man nodded, taking back the bone, then hesitated. “Immortal… if you like it, please take it. I ask no payment. The Dao Sect has protected us for years—”
“No need.”
Qiu Yuehan waved her hand, her pale wrist whiter than snow.
The old man quickly asked, “Do you know what it is?”
“It’s the bone of a powerful creature. But this piece has lost its vitality—at most, it can be forged into a magic tool. It’s not of great use.”
Without lingering, Qiu Yuehan turned to leave.
“In that case, rather than let others covet it… please, take it, immortal. Consider it thanks for the sect’s protection all these years.”
Qiu Yuehan paused, sighed softly, then turned back and handed the old man a few pills.
She didn’t understand—why did others insist on buying what he refused to sell, and yet when she didn’t want it, he insisted on giving it to her?
Forget it.
There were plenty of strange things in the mortal world.
Qiu Yuehan didn’t pay much attention to the bone. She lacked no weapons and sensed no lingering will from it. She was merely thinking—
Why would such a bone appear here?
Though she had not yet fully inherited the Dao of Death, Qiu Yuehan could glimpse the image of the deceased through remnants of their remains.
That bone did not belong to any ordinary creature.
It was the bone of a dragon.
Qiu Yuehan could even faintly hear the echo of its roar—a deep, soul-stirring sound.
Yet, in the memories she currently possessed—
No dragons existed in the cultivation world. At least, none had appeared for tens of thousands of years.
Still, the legends of dragons persisted. Some even said that the sun in the sky had once been a dragon.
A sudden ache split Qiu Yuehan’s head—that tearing sensation of fractured memories.
Dragons… did they truly exist?
The Nether Lord’s memories were too ancient, too vast—they had to recover bit by bit. For now, Qiu Yuehan could not recall whether dragons had existed in the primordial era.
No rush.
Qiu Yuehan rubbed her brow and gazed slowly at the mortal dynasty. She found herself growing ever more fond of the Red Dust.
When night finally fell, she returned to the shop. Amid the shopkeeper’s complaints—“Fairy, why are you so late again?”—she collected her new clothes.
In two days, Qiu Yuehan planned to visit Lu Changyuan to learn the sword.
She had already learned the Four Seasons Sword Technique, the One Sword from the West, and even the Supreme Pure-Spirit Forget-Immortal Technique.
But she had not yet learned the technique of the Red Dust Sword Dao.
So she intended to discuss it with Lu Changyuan.
Yes.
Discuss it while wearing new clothes.
It would get hot during practice, so wearing less wouldn’t matter much.
With the Feather’s mark still in her hand, Qiu Yuehan felt that everything was under her control.