At the southwestern border of Longquan County, Luopo Mountain stood tall and proud, like a solitary giant among dwarfs—distinct and striking. According to custom, the group dismounted and traveled the final stretch on foot upon nearing the Longquan border. There was no soaring through the skies, no sword-flight—only the solid rhythm of footsteps. They were about to ascend Dragon Ridge Mountain, famed for producing the fabled Dragon-Slaying Platform. It held the largest grindstone in all of Eastern Baoping Continent. Even if divided into thirds, any single piece of it would remain unmatched.
For these four cultivators, all hailing from the ancestral military temples of the continent, trekking through mountains and lakes was hardly arduous. After all, martial cultivators of the Wind and Snow Temple placed great emphasis on tempering the physical body. This journey was a form of cultivation—both of strength and spirit.
When the four spotted the distant figure of Elder Ruan, they hastened their pace and offered respectful fist-and-palm salutes. Although Ruan Qiong did not rank among the highest elders of the Wind and Snow Temple, he was widely revered. After establishing the famed Long-Distance Sword Furnace, he forged over a dozen exceptional blades for his peers, forging bonds and accruing blessings along the way. Yet, what truly earned him the collective recognition of all six branches of the Temple was a singular storm of conflict.
At the height of its power in central Eastern Baoping, the Water Talisman Dynasty boasted the renowned Damo Mountain Manor—an unrivaled cultivation estate. A prodigious young patriarch of the Manor had just broken through to become a terrestrial sword immortal and sought a worthy blade. Hearing of Ruan Qiong's legendary smithing, he visited Green Water Pool in person and offered immense rewards in exchange for a sword. But Ruan had already promised to forge a weapon for a junior from Wenqing Peak—a process that would take several years.
No matter how the prideful young immortal pleaded, Ruan merely responded that his forge honored the order of request. He would gladly forge a sword for the manor, free of charge, but only after completing his current work. The young immortal, feeling humiliated, struck in anger. Ruan Qiong, then only at the Ninth Floor, stood his ground despite grievous wounds, and in doing so, carved his name into legend.
The Damo Manor paid dearly for its arrogance. That sword immortal was imprisoned in the Wind and Snow Temple for fifty years. In the span of six years, each of the Temple's six branches sent a challenger to the Manor, reducing it from the preeminent sect of the Water Talisman Dynasty to a second-rate power barely clinging to relevance.
Ruan Qiong returned the four's salute with a smile. The Temple cared little for formalities—even juniors addressing the most formidable ancestors did so with a simple courtesy.
He spoke briefly of matters regarding Dragon Ridge Mountain and the imperial deployment in Longquan. Then, offhandedly, he asked, "Is Wei Jin of Immortal Platform accompanying you northward this time?"
An elder in white robes, sword on his back, smiled and replied, "The sect sent a sword message midway through our journey—Uncle-Master Wei is indeed heading north, though not with us. Rumor has it that Fairy He, serving as a Daoist envoy, entered this very Li Pearl Grotto Heaven, and it seems her presence enticed Uncle-Master to make an appearance. If all went as expected, he's likely already met with the returning disciple of the Southern Sect."
"Has anyone among you seen Wei Jin in person?" Ruan inquired.
The four shook their heads. "Never laid eyes on him."
The white-robed elder asked, "Did something happen, Elder Ruan?"
Ruan waved a hand lightly and smiled. "Nothing pressing. I'm just curious. If I recall correctly, Wei Jin is barely forty and has already secured the Tenth Floor. The Immortal Platform does need someone to step forward and uphold Ancestor Liu's legacy."
As the five walked along the secluded mountain path, the white-robed elder—senior in both cultivation and status—walked shoulder to shoulder with Ruan. The other three, of a younger generation, would have addressed Wei Jin as Grand-Uncle-Master. Among the six lineages of the Wind and Snow Temple, Immortal Platform was the most sparsely populated, teetering on the brink of extinction. Yet over the past three centuries, it had contributed the most to the Temple's prosperity. Ruan's former Green Water Pool and the elder's Great Salamander Ravine alike harbored deep goodwill and hopes for Immortal Platform's revival.
The elder stroked his beard and chuckled. "Uncle-Master Wei is a peerless talent—his presence elusive as a dragon glimpsed only in passing. His reputation in the martial world is considerable. Who knows—next time we meet, he might well be the youngest great cultivator to ascend the Upper Fifth Floor in Eastern Baoping."
Ruan murmured, "The taller the tree, the more wind it must bear. Precisely because of his brilliance, he must tread cautiously."
The old swordmaster, catching the gravity in Ruan's expression, immediately understood and replied solemnly, "Once this matter concludes, I'll return to the Temple and urge the Sect Master to summon Wei Jin back. Whatever happens, he should wait until firmly securing the Upper Fifth Floor before venturing through the world again."
Ruan nodded. "A prudent course of action. I trust Wei Jin, seasoned by his years in the martial world, has seen enough of human treachery to understand our sect's concerns."
The old man hesitated, words on the tip of his tongue.
Ruan shook his head. "Whether Wei Jin chooses to return to the Temple... that will ultimately be his own decision."
Suddenly, Ruan turned toward the distant town and clasped his hands. "My daughter, Xiuxiu, seems to be in some trouble. I must go see to it—I won't be accompanying you any further."
The white-robed elder raised a brow, killing intent flaring. "Elder Ruan, if it's inconvenient for you to act, just say the word. Anyone who dares trouble our Xiuxiu must be tired of living."
Ruan smiled knowingly. "It's a trifling matter."
In a flash, his figure soared into the sky and vanished.
The remaining three of the Temple looked at one another, surprised. When had this elder grown so protective of Ruan Xiuxiu? After all, he had spent most of the past decade wandering with sword in hand, hardly present on the mountain. He should scarcely know the girl, certainly not more than the three of them. If anything, it was Elder Qin of Great Salamander Ravine who had long held her in high esteem.
The old swordmaster walked on calmly, but his mind echoed with Qin's private words:
"The Wind and Snow Temple is too small to contain Ruan Xiuxiu."
——
At the humble storefront, Ruan Qiong stepped inside. He hesitated for a moment before speaking, choosing not to use the refined dialect of Eastern Baoping. The local women and girls had only picked up a few simple phrases to converse with outsiders for business purposes—best not to risk anything. He merely tapped the counter gently with his fingers.
The girl behind it looked up in confusion. "Father? Why are you here? Weren't you not forging today?"
Ruan spoke softly, "Step outside with me."
Father and daughter left the shop, walking down the quiet Dragon-Riding Alley. The moment Ruan appeared, the hidden spies and assassins of Great Li silently retreated—an unspoken sign of reverence toward a saint of the martial path. Ruan nodded inwardly. From such small details, he could see why Great Li had risen to such might—its strength was no accident.
Ruan Xiuxiu frowned. "Was it someone from the Fengcheng Chu family who went crying to you? Let me be clear—I warned him many times before I acted."
Ruan chuckled. "Even if you lent the Chu family ten times their current courage, they wouldn't dare trouble me with such nonsense. I expect someone will be arriving shortly with lavish gifts to apologize."
Xiuxiu muttered, "That guy was disgusting, just like that stunted melon-head—both reek of karmic entanglement. The only difference is the thickness of their sins. Once he ascends to the Middle Fifth Floor, who knows how many people he'll harm. If I hadn't worried about causing you trouble, I'd have killed him with one palm right there—save the world some future calamity."
Ruan took a deep breath. Sweat beaded on his brow. Thankfully, he had sent out his Yin Spirit beforehand to shroud the entire alley. No one could now detect what had just been said. Otherwise, Xiuxiu's words...