Chapter 4
Shi Cimo walked along the winding stone steps of Qingji Peak. The mountain wind brushed across her plain robes, carrying the cool, crisp scent of vegetation. Yet instead of dispersing the oppressive gloom weighing upon her heart, it sent the coppery sweetness she had been suppressing ever since leaving the Discipline Hall surging violently up her throat.
“Cough…”
She stopped and abruptly turned aside, bracing herself against an ancient pine beside the path. Her fingers dug deeply into its rough bark.
Without warning, she vomited a mouthful of dark red blood. The viscous liquid was mixed with fragments of ruptured organs, and a glaring crimson blossom instantly spread across her pale robes.
Shi Cimo closed her eyes and leaned weakly against the trunk. A piercing ringing filled her head, while the scenery before her blurred and swayed as she panted rapidly. With trembling hands, she shook a pill from her storage ring and swallowed it. The warm current released by the medicine barely suppressed the chill rampaging through her meridians. Only then did she slowly exhale, though the rusty taste in her throat lingered.
Shi Cimo wiped the blood from her lips, vicious hostility churning in her eyes.
When Leng Qianqiu had said that she had handled matters with “admirable strictness,” he had deliberately infused his words with the pressure of the Spirit Transformation realm and directed it entirely at her. It had aggravated her internal injuries and left her spiritual meridians throbbing with pain.
That damned old bastard had mocked her for using public authority to pursue a private vendetta, yet he never stopped to consider who had pioneered the practice of turning Qingji Peak’s laws into a personal weapon.
Shi Cimo raised her hand and stared at the still-wet blood on her palm before letting out a cold laugh.
Ever since she arrived at the Tianyan Sect as a child, pain and injury had clung to her body like gangrene eating into the bone. Whenever Song Che encountered a fortuitous opportunity or achieved sudden enlightenment, Shi Cimo would inevitably run into some form of danger or misfortune.
When Song Che broke through one realm after another and became the youngest Golden Core cultivator at the age of twenty, Shi Cimo had meditated and cultivated day and night without rest—only for her spiritual power to suddenly run rampant, shattering her meridians inch by inch and sending her cultivation plummeting back to the middle stage of Foundation Establishment.
Song Che’s path was smooth and effortless, while every step Shi Cimo took was strewn with thorns.
She had scarcely enjoyed a single good day in ten years. Repeated internal injuries had left this body terribly weak, and she sustained it entirely with medicinal pills while using spiritual power every day to temper her body and purge its impurities. Even so, neither her cultivation speed nor her bodily functions could reach their peak condition. Merely returning to the late stage of Foundation Establishment had exhausted all her strength.
The backlash from their linked destinies was remarkably efficient. Song Che had only just entered the Icy Gorge, and these injuries had already begun tormenting Shi Cimo again.
The Icy Gorge… Leng Qianqiu, you truly cannot bear to let your precious darling suffer.
Forcibly suppressing her churning blood and dizziness, she straightened her back and kept her steps as steady as possible as she continued toward the lonely courtyard atop Qingji Peak.
＊
When she pushed open the courtyard gate, that familiar resistance greeted her once more.
“Quack—!”
A noisy swarm of yellow fluff crowded around her feet. Shi Cimo staggered half a step and caught herself against the doorframe, while the oblivious ducklings pecked at the bloodstained hem of her skirt.
The glossy-feathered mother duck waddled over and regarded her bedraggled appearance sidelong with its beady eyes. A low gurgling noise came from its throat, sounding almost mocking.
For a moment, Shi Cimo recalled how she had confiscated this flock several days earlier. The Discipline Hall had received complaints from numerous disciples about wild ducks running everywhere and leaving droppings behind. Shi Cimo had immediately sensed something was wrong. The familiarity of the situation made her temples throb.
When she later led people to investigate, she found Song Che sitting in a tree with one leg crossed over the other, casually swinging the iron cage that held the ducks. Upon seeing Shi Cimo enter, she had looked over and even smiled at her.
She had not cared in the slightest about being caught. Her explanation was that immortal cranes were too skinny, and proper soup required rustic ducks from the mortal realm. Shi Cimo had found her stupidity painful to behold.
She tugged her skirt free and, in one swift motion, lifted her foot and kicked the mother duck into the pond. Watching it flounder miserably eased some of the gloom in her heart.
Ignoring the flock, she dragged her exhausted body straight toward her room. Her complexion, normally pale to begin with, had already turned deathly white.
The ducklings chirped incessantly, making her head ache. Shi Cimo slammed the door shut behind her. Unable to hold herself up any longer, she leaned against the cold wooden panel and slowly slid to the floor. Qingji Peak’s year-round chill pierced through the thin fabric of her clothes and sank into her bones, making even her fingertips tremble.
She closed her eyes as waves of darkness passed through her vision. Only after resting for a long while did she brace herself against the wall and struggle to her feet.
She was running out of healing pills.
After tossing the jade bottle back into her storage ring, Shi Cimo took out several packets of medicine and slowly walked toward the corner of the quiet room.
A bathing tub half as tall as a person stood there.
She formed a hand seal and drew mountain spring water into the tub. Then she opened the medicine packets and poured all the powdered herbs inside.
Before long, hazy steam began rising from the water, carrying a medicinal fragrance that was both bitter and refreshing.
She removed the disciple’s uniform stained with blood and dust, leaving only her undergarments. Rather than entering the tub immediately, she gathered her cascading ink-black hair and walked barefoot across the icy floor toward an old-fashioned dressing mirror covered in dust in the corner of the room.
The polished bronze mirror clearly reflected a pale and bedraggled figure, exhaustion etched between her brows. Her face was reasonably delicate, but otherwise thoroughly ordinary.
She looked toward her neck, where a thumb-sized ring-shaped jade pendant hung. It was a dull gray and appeared utterly unremarkable.
Shi Cimo rubbed her fingertip over the pendant and could still feel the faint warmth it retained from being worn against her skin.
Then she channeled a thread of spiritual power through her fingertip.
Click.
The pendant flickered once before falling dormant again.
The reflection in the mirror, however, began undergoing a startling transformation, as though its bones were being redrawn and its skin replaced.
The originally plain and ordinary contours of her face gradually unfolded into exquisite perfection.
Her previously dull and pallid skin took on the immaculate, luminous whiteness of cool jade.
Her ink-black eyes resembled glazed crystal submerged in a frigid pool, cold and distant. Their outer corners tilted upward slightly, giving her a naturally sharp and chilling allure. Illness had stained those corners with a breathtaking wash of pale red, adding a trace of fragile, tragic beauty.
Her bone structure was flawless and her features breathtaking. Even her sickly appearance could not conceal her peerless splendor.
Yet not even such incomparable beauty could withstand the oppressive gloom and irritation between her brows. One glance was enough to make the heart tremble. She was stunningly beautiful, yet radiated a dangerous air that warned strangers to keep their distance.
This was Shi Cimo—or rather, Chi Mo’s true appearance.
Looking at the long-unseen face in the mirror, at once familiar and strange, Shi Cimo fell into a daze.
She unconsciously raised a hand, lightly touching the striking red flush at the corner of her reflected eye.
Her expression was impossibly complicated.
It carried confusion, weariness, and profound exhaustion.
After a moment of silence, she turned and walked back toward the bathing tub.
—
News of Song Che’s punishment fell upon the Tianyan Sect like a massive boulder thrown into a tranquil lake, instantly stirring a thousand waves.
Several days later, Shi Cimo happened to need an old record concerning the formations on the rear mountain, which required her to visit the Records Pavilion beside the sect’s main hall.
Ordinarily, she disliked leaving Qingji Peak and disliked interacting with others even more.
The moment she stepped onto the broad flagstone road leading to the main peak’s plaza, she keenly sensed countless gazes, both open and concealed, falling upon her.
Long accustomed to it, she continued forward with a cold expression.
Suppressed whispers permeated the air like countless tiny gnats buzzing beside her ears.
“Look, that’s her…”
“…That cold-faced fiend from the Discipline Hall… Always wearing that bitter expression. Who is she trying to impress…?”
“Senior Sister Song truly fell into her hands this time… Tempering in the Icy Gorge—just thinking about it hurts…”
“Hmph. She only held enforcement authority for a few days because Senior Sister Mu fell ill, yet she brandished a chicken feather as though it were an imperial edict and punished Senior Sister Song half to death!”
“Exactly! Senior Sister Song is usually such a good person. She might enjoy fooling around, but she has never put on airs around ordinary disciples like us…”
“I heard she caught Senior Sister Song more than a dozen times! She watched her as though she were a thief! I think she’s simply jealous of Senior Sister Song!”
“Word has already spread beyond the sect that Senior Sister Song was forced to suffer such a severe punishment by one of her own fellow disciples. She must be so jealous of Senior Sister Song that she no longer cares about her own reputation. I’m embarrassed for her…”
Several inner disciples gathered in a pavilion at the edge of the plaza spoke neither loudly nor softly—their voices were precisely loud enough for her to hear every word.
Everyone else looked at Shi Cimo with either contempt, anger, or gloating curiosity, making no attempt to hide it. It was as though she were not a disciple enforcing the sect’s laws but a sinister, spiteful, petty person jealous of anyone more talented than herself.
Of course, in certain respects, they were not entirely wrong.
Shi Cimo kept her gaze straight ahead and maintained her steady pace. Their words caused not the slightest ripple within her heart. Her dark eyes were tranquil as she looked forward, her entire body radiating an aloof aura that kept others thousands of miles away.
She walked straight across the plaza and entered the Records Pavilion beside the sect’s imposing main hall. Registration and retrieval alike were handled with rigid efficiency in her hands.
When the disciple on duty accepted her identification token, even his fingers grew stiff. His expression was strange, and he did not dare look her in the eyes, as though she were some terrifying monster.
Shi Cimo paid him no attention. She took the jade slip containing the information about the formation, turned, and left.
She had taken only a few steps beyond the Records Pavilion’s threshold when—
“Clang—!”
A shrill sound abruptly tore through the air. Carrying a vicious force, it shot directly toward Shi Cimo’s back.
Shi Cimo reacted instinctively the instant she heard the sword energy slicing through the air, her body moving faster than thought. Without looking back, she pushed off the ground with the tip of her foot and twisted backward at the waist from an impossibly agile angle, carrying herself several steps away.
The sword energy swept past her, shattering the stone paving and carving a deep trench into the ground.
“Shi Cimo!”
A clear female voice filled with unmistakable fury rang out, cutting through the oppressive air like a blade.
Shi Cimo stared sidelong at the trench for several seconds before slowly raising her eyes.
Crimson robes snapped around a figure as flamboyant as fire. Dressed in neat, fitted martial attire, she arrived riding a sword. It was Qin Lingxuan, a disciple of Perfected One Yeluo of Bibo Peak.
Qin Lingxuan held a sword in one hand. Her valiant features blazed with undisguised fury as her gaze stabbed straight into Shi Cimo. Through gritted teeth, she enunciated each word. “You have some nerve.”
She was also at the late stage of Foundation Establishment and numbered among the Tianyan Sect’s younger disciples with the greatest talent for the sword. Most importantly, however, she was one of Song Che’s devoted followers.
“…”
Shi Cimo looked at Qin Lingxuan’s face, flushed with anger, and spoke without the slightest inflection. “What matter is Junior Sister Qin referring to?”
“What matter?!” Shi Cimo’s composure only enraged Qin Lingxuan further. “Stop pretending you don’t know! Senior Sister Song was sentenced to suffer tempering in the Icy Gorge’s frigid spring and copy a scripture one hundred times. Wasn’t that all because of you? The Icy Gorge—is that even a place fit for a human being?!”
The entire plaza fell silent.
Every nearby disciple immediately focused on the two women, and the air filled with the tense anticipation of people waiting to enjoy a spectacle.
“Whether anyone else can endure the Icy Gorge, I couldn’t say.” Shi Cimo’s expression did not change as she looked at the woman in red. Her voice remained flat. “But it appears Junior Sister Qin would like to experience it herself.”
“Volume Seven, Article Two of the sect’s laws: publicly attacking a Discipline Hall disciple. Article Five: publicly attacking a direct-line disciple. Does Junior Sister Qin also intend to compete for the top position on the disciplinary register? I’m afraid you won’t be as fortunate as Senior Sister Song and receive my master’s consideration—”
Shi Cimo met Qin Lingxuan’s gaze without retreating and sneered. “Junior Sister Qin, perhaps you would also like a taste of the Five Great Punishments.”
“Shi Cimo!” Qin Lingxuan flew into a rage. Her grip on her sword creaked, and her entire body shook with fury, but she genuinely did not dare attack again.
“…Don’t try to intimidate me with the sect’s laws!” She glared viciously at Shi Cimo. “You’re nothing but someone who rose to her position through underhanded—”
Before she could finish, a cold, solid object whistled through the air directly toward Qin Lingxuan’s face!
Qin Lingxuan’s pupils contracted. Instinctively mistaking it for a concealed weapon, she twisted her wrist and swept her sword outward with a vicious rush of wind.
“Clang—”
A crisp sound rang out. The object was knocked violently away, tumbled several times through the air, and crashed onto the flagstones nearby with a clatter.
It was not a concealed weapon.
It was a palm-sized round piece of jade. It lay quietly between the cracks of the shattered stone, its surface completely unblemished despite having withstood such a powerful strike, while a faint, gentle radiance flowed across it.
“It’s a jade register!”
Someone in the crowd recognized it and cried out.
The Discipline Hall’s jade registers were exclusive to its inner disciples. Every piece of information entered into them was automatically synchronized with the Discipline Hall’s archives, which recorded every disciplinary violation within the Tianyan Sect. They were also symbols of a Discipline Hall disciple’s identity.
“…”
Qin Lingxuan’s sword remained held across her body. The fury had not faded from her valiant face, but a trace of stunned confusion now froze upon it. She stared at the jade register on the ground, momentarily unable to react.
The surrounding whispers also died instantly. Countless gazes focused on that small jade register as everyone held their breath.
A direct-line jade register from Qingji Peak—with the highest level of authority.
“You refuse to accept it?”
Shi Cimo’s voice was bitterly cold, though careful listening revealed a trace of anger. She made no attempt to conceal her mockery. “Pick it up and see for yourself. Thirteen violations. Every time, location, and witness is recorded.”
Qin Lingxuan’s complexion alternated between green and white. Her fingers tightened around the sword hilt until they turned pale. Before so many watching eyes, Shi Cimo had actually dared to treat her this way—and even issue her orders!
Of course she knew that Song Che had indeed broken the rules, and many times at that. Yet throughout the years, every one of their direct-line disciples had been a prodigy admired by everyone in the sect. When had any of them ever been punished with such complete disregard for their dignity?
Song Che, in particular, was the most dazzling among them. Even when she behaved lawlessly, her extraordinary talent and strength meant that the elders would turn a blind eye. There was always someone willing to conceal or smooth over her violations, and matters had never once grown so serious. Only Shi Cimo—the Discipline Hall’s dog—had sunk her teeth into them, into Song Che, and refused to let go!
Why did she have to be so incapable of fitting in…?
Qin Lingxuan bit her lower lip hard, the fury in her eyes nearly bursting into flames. She wanted nothing more than to kill the offensive woman before her, yet the intangible pressure of the Discipline Hall’s Five Great Punishments pinned her in place.
“What? You don’t dare look?” Shi Cimo’s merciless mockery pressed forward relentlessly. “Is this the full extent of Bibo Peak’s eldest senior sister’s courage? You only dare launch a treacherous attack from behind, yet when confronted directly, you cannot even face the facts?”
The evidence was irrefutable.
Those words reverberated through Qin Lingxuan’s heart. Never before had she found the concept so repulsive.
“You bitch…”
She ground the words out through clenched teeth.
Just as the ironclad facts left Qin Lingxuan choking on her surging rage, Shi Cimo moved without warning.
Her figure abruptly closed in like a phantom, moving so quickly that only an afterimage remained in everyone’s vision. In an instant, she was less than a meter from Qin Lingxuan.
“!”
Qin Lingxuan’s pupils contracted. She had not even seen how Shi Cimo moved. By the time she reacted, the bitter fragrance of medicinal herbs, mingled with a faint scent of blood, had already entered her nose.
Impossible. She’s clearly at the late stage of Foundation Establishment, just like me!
Qin Lingxuan’s eyes widened as a chill shot straight to the crown of her head.
Shi Cimo did not care what she thought. Leaning forward slightly, she brought her lips almost to Qin Lingxuan’s ear and spoke slowly in a low, hoarse voice only the two of them could hear.
“Qin Lingxuan…”
An eerie hint of laughter threaded through her voice, like a venomous snake lightly licking Qin Lingxuan’s ear and making her scalp prickle.
“Three months ago, Song Che was caught by Senior Sister Mu stealing an Ice-Crystal Snow-Soul Lotus. She is at the middle stage of Golden Core, so why would she need a lotus meant for someone at Foundation Establishment? Qin Lingxuan, I heard you were the witness. How do you feel about that?”
Qin Lingxuan’s pupils contracted. Every trace of blood instantly drained from her face, and her eyes filled with incredulous shock.
The spectating disciples looked both surprised and curious. All they saw was Shi Cimo leaning closer and whispering several words into Qin Lingxuan’s ear before Qin Lingxuan’s expression changed dramatically, setting off another wave of murmurs.
“And another thing.”
Shi Cimo did not let her go. Her voice dropped lower, taking on a malicious, taunting note. “On the seventh day of this month, in the Library Pavilion’s side hall, was the sole surviving copy of 《Danxia’s Notes》 truly ruined because Song Che accidentally knocked over some spirit ink? Or was it… torn apart by some idiot who failed at sword practice and destroyed a book to vent her anger?”
Qin Lingxuan’s eyes widened, and it felt as though something had exploded inside her head.
How could she possibly know? How could she know?!
“You…”
Her lips trembled. Looking at Shi Cimo standing inches away, her eyes as cold and indifferent as though she were regarding a corpse, Qin Lingxuan felt as if she were watching a venomous snake flick its tongue at her.
Shi Cimo’s eyes reflected Qin Lingxuan’s bedraggled appearance as she smiled. “Why didn’t you complain that the razor winds were too fierce back then?”
With that, she stepped back twice and straightened, putting distance between them as though those heart-piercing words had been nothing more than Qin Lingxuan’s imagination.
Shi Cimo swept an indifferent gaze across the surrounding crowd. Wherever her eyes passed, everyone fell silent as cicadas in winter. Addressing Qin Lingxuan and seemingly everyone else as well, she chuckled. “A barking cur dares run wild before the Discipline Hall?”
Everyone’s expressions immediately became remarkably colorful, especially those inner disciples who had deliberately spoken loudly enough for Shi Cimo to hear their insults.
Shi Cimo ignored them. She bent down, picked up the cold jade register between two fingers, and flicked it lightly, brushing away nonexistent dust. The casual movement radiated mockery and disdain.
She put the jade register away, turned coldly, and walked steadily through the deathly silent crowd. Under the many complicated gazes directed at her, she continued straight toward Qingji Peak.
She had endured this sort of confrontation, with people hurling accusations directly in her face, dozens of times since childhood. By now, she had long since mastered handling it without the slightest disturbance.
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