By the banks of the Lixiu River, a white egret flew across the water, leaving ripples in its wake.
On the plum trees by the shore, the plums had ripened. Picked and cleaned, they were soaked in well water, their taste sour and sweet. Paired with a fragrant cup of tea, it was the favorite summer refreshment for the cultivators of the Huajin Pavilion.
A year had passed since the great flood.
The dead would not return to life, and the houses and farmlands submerged by the waters would not be restored overnight. Like a person recovering from a severe illness, it would take time to heal.
The major sects had suffered significant damage during the flood. Yet, over the past year, they continued to send their disciples down from the mountains to help the common people rebuild their homes that had been destroyed by the disaster.
Whether human or demon, cultivator or ordinary person, everyone was equal in the face of a natural disaster—there was no distinction between ‘us’ and ‘them’.
Fortunately, Douzhou was slowly recovering its vitality.
One of the most noticeable changes was that the spiritual veins, which had gradually weakened and dried up over the years, had become abundant and lively again. With the rich spiritual energy in Douzhou, the cultivators found their progress in cultivation much faster than before. As a result, more and more rogue cultivators or talented disciples with outstanding spiritual roots sought to join the sects. The major sects had also resumed actively recruiting new members.
As the old departed, the new would gradually take their place. The cycle of life, with its joys and sorrows, its reunions and farewells, always continued.
Not long ago, the Taiyan Sect also accepted a group of new disciples, holding the selection competition in Pingyang Town as they always did. Young men and women, filled with dreams of the path to immortality, stepped onto the square stage, beginning their long journey toward cultivation.
Today was the day the new disciples entered the sect for the first time.
Inside the main hall of Gufeng Mountain, a golden statue with kind eyes held a horsetail whisk, smiling gently down at the sentient beings below.
The new disciples, having just disembarked from the spiritual boat, couldn’t contain their excitement and looked around curiously at the surrounding scenery. As they passed the main hall, a waterfall cascaded down the cliff, scattering silver droplets in the air. A young man in a white robe, holding a silver spear, walked by. Hearing the commotion, he paused for a moment and turned to look.
He had an extraordinary appearance, with clean, distinct features. His gaze, as it swept over them, was like the autumn moon under frost—cold and distant, as though looking at someone else entirely.
“Martial Uncle.” The man leading the new disciples off the boat, an axe slung over his shoulder, greeted him cheerfully. The young man gave a faint nod in return before turning and leaving.
Behind him, the crowd of disciples stirred in excitement.
The female disciples, watching the young man’s retreating figure, asked the man with the axe, “Senior Brother, did you just call that immortal ‘Martial Uncle’? Is he part of our sect?”
The man laughed heartily, “Of course, he’s our sect’s Seventh Martial Uncle.”
“Seventh Martial Uncle?” The young female disciple blushed slightly and smiled. “If only I could become his disciple.”
“You’d better give up on that idea,” a more experienced disciple advised kindly. “Our little Martial Uncle has quite the temper.”
Another young girl chimed in with a grin, “That’s fine. Who cares about his temper? He’s so good-looking!”
The man shifted his golden axe to the other shoulder and, understanding their thoughts, mercilessly shattered their fantasies. “Don’t get your hopes up, though. He’s already taken.”
The girl who first spoke froze in surprise. “By whom?”
“An immortal fairy,” he replied with a knowing smile.
“An immortal fairy?” More people gathered around, their faces full of curiosity. “Is she very beautiful?”
In the distance, the mountains undulated, and a gentle breeze swept through, stirring a vast sea of green.
The man glanced toward the horizon and smiled. As he continued smiling, his gaze grew a bit wistful. “Yes, she’s very beautiful.”
“She’s the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Inside the main hall, Meng Ying was currently discussing the details of the sect’s grand assembly scheduled for next month.
Since the disaster at the Golden Gate Ruins, Shaoyang Zhenren’s health had been steadily declining. Over the years, he had used his vital energy to forcibly maintain the flow of spiritual veins in Gufeng Mountain. Additionally, he had depleted his lifespan to heal Gu Baiying’s wounds and cast divination spells. One thing after another, all these actions took a great toll on his life force. Back then, when people within the sect said he frequently retreated into seclusion, it was actually because he was nurturing his already damaged spiritual roots.
With his current cultivation level, it was likely that he would never achieve ascension in this lifetime.
However, he probably never intended to ascend.
Fortunately, over the years, Meng Ying had been trained as the future sect leader of the Taiyan Sect and was already capable of standing on her own. Now that Shaoyang Zhenren was gradually withdrawing from leadership, Meng Ying naturally stepped forward to take charge. She handled communications with the other major sects and took responsibility for the Taiyan Sect’s future growth and development.
After the flood, many sects suffered significant losses.
Among them, the most severely affected was the Chihua Sect.
At the time, the spiritual veins across the sects in Douzhou were withering, with the Chihua Sect suffering the most. As a result, each generation of disciples after Daoist Lingxin was progressively weaker than the last, and among the youngest generation, there was hardly anyone worthy of notice. If this continued, their decline was only a matter of time.
Their sect’s discipline was also lacking. When the flood struck, many of the younger disciples abandoned the sect and fled to save their own lives.
Although the spiritual energy in Douzhou had now recovered, the spirit of the Chihua Sect was broken. Even with Daoist Lingxin presiding, reviving the sect would not be easy. Unfortunately, when Kongtan Laojun sacrificed his chance at ascension to save countless lives in Douzhou, stopping just short of the Ascension Platform, he could not prevent the inevitable decline of his sect.
In comparison, the Yinfeng Sect fared much better.
With the recovery of spiritual energy, the Yinfeng Sect’s mines were yielding more spirit stones again. However, after the previous incident, Fu Ronghua ordered the entire sect to practice frugality, prohibiting any lavish expenditures. He even distributed spirit stones to aid disaster victims in the city. As a result, the Yinfeng Sect’s reputation among the people of Douzhou soared, almost as if it had boarded a flying boat. The disciples of Yinfeng Sect were especially praised by the common folk for being both kind and wealthy, leading many to believe they were destined for prosperity.
After all, with the major sects now competing from the beginning once again, cultivation strength might not be immediately discernible, but earning a good reputation wasn’t a bad place to start.
The Xiang Ling Sect, as always, remained strict with its disciples. After the disaster, the disciples were even more diligent in their training. They also started interacting more frequently with the Taiyan Sect, and the previous grievances that once seemed significant now appeared trivial. Although the sect leaders of both factions maintained a clear and serene demeanor, the idle chatter among the disciples became increasingly excessive, with many speculating that Shaoyang Zhenren and Sect Leader Rong Shuang were rekindling their old romance and reuniting.
Of course, this was impossible.
After all that had happened, matters of love and romance were trivial in the face of the greater path of humanity. While the young new disciples still had thoughts of romance and beauty, the older disciples knew that the more pressing concern was diligent cultivation.
However, there were still a few exceptions.
Mu Cengxiao slipped in through the back door of the main hall with a basket of pastries. Nowadays, Meng Ying, who was effectively the leader of the Taiyan Sect, was extremely busy with daily affairs. There were times when Mu Cengxiao wouldn’t see her for several days.
When Meng Ying saw him enter while she was reviewing documents at her desk, she was slightly surprised. “Junior Brother Mu?”