Into The Sea

The old saying, “Mountains always appear closer than they are,” couldn’t have been truer.

Since leaving the inn that morning, Lan Wu and Ji Lingyue hadn’t stopped once. They pressed forward, and by noon, they finally glimpsed a small town at the foot of the mountain.

Lan Wu felt dizzy and stopped, placing her hands on her hips as she complained that she needed a break.

Ji Lingyue glanced at her, then at the distant town. With a resigned sigh, she agreed to stop. She pulled a soft cloth from her bag, carefully spread it on the ground, and invited Lan Wu to sit.

Lan Wu slumped against Ji Lingyue, sighing dramatically, while Ji Lingyue sat upright with perfect posture, occasionally scanning their surroundings. After a short rest, she urged Lan Wu to get up and keep moving.

Lan Wu reluctantly got up, practically hanging onto Ji Lingyue for support. “I don’t want to walk anymore. Is there a carriage or something? My feet are killing me.”

Ji Lingyue dragged her along, exasperated. “We’ve only walked ten miles! Why are you so delicate?”

“Ten miles?!” Lan Wu shrieked. “I’ve never walked this much in my life!”

“You really are a pampered young mistress, aren’t you?”

“Something like that,” Lan Wu admitted, looking at Ji Lingyue’s small frame. With a sigh, she straightened up and slowly trailed behind her.

After walking a bit more, the sound of approaching hooves reached their ears. Lan Wu turned curiously to see a caravan approaching rapidly from about a hundred meters away. In no time, it reached them. The caravan consisted of nearly twenty fine horses, kicking up massive clouds of dust as they passed. A flag at the front of the lead carriage bore the character “Qing” in elegant script.

Lan Wu clicked her tongue in amazement at the impressive sight but was quickly pulled aside by Ji Lingyue to make way.

The caravan thundered past, kicking up a cloud of dust that made Lan Wu cover her nose and cough. Ji Lingyue frowned, waved away the dust, and handed Lan Wu a waterskin. “Here, have a drink.”

Lan Wu gratefully took a gulp, but before she could even catch her breath, the caravan screeched to halt a short distance ahead. A young man, dressed in fine silks and wielding a folding fan, emerged from the lead carriage and turned his gaze towards them.

He was a handsome youth, no more than eighteen, his features so delicate he could have been mistaken for a young lady. With a charming smile, he hopped off the carriage and strolled towards them.

Ji Lingyue frowned and instinctively stepped in front of Lan Wu, watching him warily.

Stopping before them, the young man spoke politely. “Are you ladies also headed to Haochen Mountain?”

Lan Wu blinked, unsure if he was addressing her or Ji Lingyue, so she stayed silent.

Ji Lingyue responded, “What does it matter to you?”

The young man clicked his tongue in annoyance, he said. “I’m speaking to your mistress. What business is it of a servant like you?”

Lan Wu immediately understood and felt a surge of anger. “Do you have any manners? She’s not a servant! She’s my companion!”

“Companion?” The young man scoffed, fanning himself. “Don’t try to fool me. I, Qing Zibai, may not have many skills, but I’m an excellent judge of character. Your auras are completely different. You’re clearly not traveling together. I can tell you possess an air of refinement, young lady. You don’t seem like an ordinary person, so why suffer by traveling with her? Once we reach the foot of the mountain, you’ll have to climb the Heavenly Stairs. But if you join me, I can offer you a ride. What do you say?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Ji Lingyue instinctively clenched her fists and glanced nervously at Lan Wu.

Lan Wu, however, simply frowned, her brow furrowed in confusion as she looked at him. After a moment of contemplation, her eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you hitting on me?” she blurted out.

“Uh…”

Even Qing Zibai was momentarily speechless at her bluntness. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he let out an awkward chuckle. “Well, to be honest, I do have an appreciation for beauty. When I passed by earlier, I couldn’t help but notice…”

“Don’t give me that poetic nonsense,” Lan Wu interrupted, cutting him off without a hint of courtesy. “Let’s be clear: I don’t like scrawny bean sprouts like you. With your small frame, my Ah Yue here could knock down three of you with one punch. You’d best not embarrass yourself.”

Ji Lingyue was speechless.

Ji Lingyue blinked, subtly hiding her clenched fist behind her back.

Qing Zibai stood frozen, as if struggling to comprehend her words. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sputtered in disbelief, “How dare you speak to me like that?!”

What a delicate little human child, Lan Wu thought to herself, tilting her head in amusement. “And why shouldn’t I?”

“Do you know who I am?” Qing Zibai’s composure began to crack, and any semblance of elegance vanished. “My father is Qing Huai, the renowned City Lord of Wangliang City! I am the Young City Lord!”

“So your father is impressive,” Lan Wu retorted, her voice laced with indifference. “But what does that have to do with you?”

Qing Zibai was stunned, his face turning bright red in a flash, his pride clearly wounded. He raised a trembling hand, pointing his folding fan at Lan Wu accusingly. “You… just you wait!” he sputtered.

Lan Wu crossed her arms and watched him leave in embarrassment. After a while, she shook her head and clicked her tongue. “So fragile.”

Noticing she was still upset, Ji Lingyue hesitated before saying. “You should’ve accepted his offer. Didn’t you say your feet hurt?”

“It doesn’t matter if it hurts or not,” Lan Wu retorted, her face set in determination. She stomped ahead a few steps before the pain intensified, causing her to wince. Without a word, Ji Lingyue stepped forward to support her gently.

“Don’t be mad anymore. It’s just words; they can’t hurt me.”

“That’s not the point,” Lan Wu huffed, exasperated by Ji Lingyue’s lack of self-confidence. “You’re amazing in every way. When you advance in your cultivation and become exceptionally beautiful, everyone will be drawn to you. Then he’ll regret ever looking down on you.”

Ji Lingyue looked up at her, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Will you… still like me then?”

“Of course,” Lan Wu replied, her eyes sparkled with sincerity. “I like you already. You’re kind and knowledgeable. I really like you.”

The so-called “Heavenly Stairs” was nothing more than a long, winding staircase that stretched from the foot of the mountain to the entrance of the sect.

Lan Wu had been feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety, but as they climbed higher and higher, her mind gradually went blank. The reality of having stumbled into a major cultivator stronghold faded into the background, replaced by the burning sensation in her legs. By the time they reached the 999th step, she felt as though her legs were no longer her own.

Ji Lingyue, however, remained unwavering in her support. Seeing Lan Wu on the verge of collapsing, she half-dragged, half-carried her to the line forming in front of the Spirit Testing Stone.

The queue was long, but the Spirit Testing Stone was as tall as a two-story building, and even from a distance, Lan Wu could see the colors constantly appearing on the white jade stone. She drank water absentmindedly while Ji Lingyue explained, “Those with cultivation talent usually possess one or more of the five elemental spiritual roots: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. Generally, the more types you have, the more diluted your spiritual energy, making cultivation harder. So dual or single spiritual roots are considered superior. However, even among single spiritual root cultivators, there are varying degrees of purity. The higher the purity, the greater the cultivation talent…”

Lan Wu nodded, half understanding. Just then, a commotion erupted at the front of the line. A bright green sprout appeared on the Spirit Testing Stone, looking full of life.

“Wow, a single wood spiritual root,” someone murmured enviously.

“I wonder what mine will be.”

“I’m just hoping to have any spiritual root at all.”

“Same here…”

As if to emphasize their point, a few people walked back, their faces ashen, clearly having failed the test.

Lan Wu’s heart pounded in her chest. Would the Spirit Testing Stone expose her as a demon? She was about to back out when Ji Lingyue, holding her hand tightly, unknowingly led her to the front of the line.

The two people who had been chatting in front of them turned out to have no spiritual roots at all. One walked away, completely dejected, while the other refused to believe it, pleading with the Haochen Mountain disciple guarding the stone to let him test again.

The disciple, dressed in white robes, frowned impatiently. With a flick of his hand, he sent the persistent individual flying back towards the bottom of the Heavenly Stairs. “Next!” he called out.

Ji Lingyue took a deep breath and slowly stepped forward.

She gazed at the crystal-clear stone, hesitated briefly, then placed her hand upon it.

A golden light shot from her palm, racing up the stone and bursting into a dazzling glow that formed a golden sword at the top. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if ethereal chimes echoed in the air, but when she strained to listen, all was silent.

The Haochen Mountain disciple earlier impatience vanished, replaced by astonishment. “A single metal spiritual root,” he murmured.

Suddenly, a crane’s cry pierced the air. A young man, his white robes billowing in the wind, descended from the sky atop a magnificent white crane, landing gracefully before the Spirit Testing Stone.

A distant crane’s call echoed as a gentle breeze swept by. Descending from the sky on a white crane was a solemn-looking man. His jet-black hair was tied with a jade pin, and he exuded an air of righteousness. The disciple quickly bowed. “Elder Qin! What brings you here?”

“Just passing by,” Qin Yu replied calmly. Turning to Ji Lingyue, he said. “A single metal spiritual root… It’s been a decade since we’ve seen one. If you’re willing, I’d like to take you as my direct disciple at Jinling Peak.”

Ji Lingyue hesitated and asked, “Who are you?”

Before Qin Yu could respond, the disciple eagerly interjected, “This is Elder Qin Yu, master of Jinling Peak! He’s one of the top sword cultivators on the continent. Being his disciple is an incredible honor. You should accept immediately!”

Amidst the envious whispers of the crowd, Ji Lingyue turned to Lan Wu. “Can you also take my friend as your disciple?” she asked Qin Yu earnestly.

Lan Wu, who had been quietly observing, suddenly found herself the center of attention.

Lan Wu was speechless.

Qin Yu glanced at Lan Wu, “That depends on your friend’s aptitude,” he replied calmly.

A wave of pressure washed over Lan Wu. Sensing Ji Lingyue’s hopeful gaze, she mustered her courage. “Go on, Lan Wu,” Ji Lingyue encouraged. “Give it a try.”

Realizing she couldn’t back out, Lan Wu stepped forward. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the stone.

A serene blue light emerged, forming a small fish that swam gracefully above the stone. Gradually, a second fish appeared, both playfully circling a newly sprouted green leaf—a harmonious dance of water and wood.

“Dual water and wood spiritual roots,” Qin Yu observed. “Not bad.”

“So…” Ji Lingyue began, her voice laced with anticipation.

“However, I won’t take her as my disciple,” Qin Yu stated firmly. “Jinling Peak specializes in sword cultivation. Her spiritual roots are too gentle for this path.”

Lan Wu felt a mix of relief and disappointment. The last thing she wanted was to become the disciple of such a powerful figure. The pressure would be unbearable.

To her surprise, Ji Lingyue grabbed her hand firmly and said, “Then I won’t accept your offer unless you also take Lan Wu as a disciple.”

Her words caused a moment of stunned silence. The crowd was shocked by her boldness in bargaining with Qin Yu, and even Qin Yu frowned slightly, looking displeased. “Young lady, this is not a negotiation,”

Feeling the tension, Lan Wu quickly intervened, “It’s alright. Elder Qin doesn’t need to accept me.”

“But…” Ji Lingyue began.

“Even if I train under a different master, we can still see each other,” Lan Wu assured her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “You possess a single metal spiritual root. Jinling Peak is the best place for you. Besides,” she added with a small smile, “I’m not suited for sword cultivation. I have a low pain tolerance and struggle with hardship.”