“Harmony breeds wealth—besides if I don’t agree, you’ll cry and make a fuss until I do. Might as well save some energy,” Cai Zhao said, turning her back to him with an air of precocious nonchalance.
Chang Ning’s residence was called Qingjing Study. It was nestled against a mountain facing a forest, quite secluded. To the right was a medical pavilion, convenient for brewing and obtaining medicines. To the left was a hot spring tucked in a mountain hollow, perfect for cultivating and detoxifying. It could be said that Sect Leader Qi had taken great care of this son of an old friend. Unfortunately, there was an unruly mother-daughter pair nearby causing trouble, which was beyond his control.
Opposite Chang Ning’s quarters was a row of vacant rooms. Cai Zhao asked Fan Xingjia to send people to clean and tidy them up, then had her servants move in the luggage that hadn’t yet been unpacked.
The staff left behind by Ning Xiaofeng were all very capable. Without disturbing the Qingque Sect’s managers, two maids and several other servants quietly put the empty rooms and the storage rooms behind them in order. They even set up two small red clay stoves to brew tea and burn incense, which could also be used to decoct medicine for Chang Ning.
By the time Zeng Dalou came running to dissuade them, Qingjing Study had been completely transformed. Curtains fluttered gently, a subtle fragrance filled the air, beds and tables, cups and plates were clean and bright. A beautiful young girl dozed in a rocking chair on the porch, exuding a warm and soft atmosphere.
“Where’s Chang Ning?” Zeng Dalou looked around.
The round-faced maid replied, “Young Master Chang is cultivating to heal his injuries in the inner room. Our young mistress is watching over him outside.”
Zeng Dalou scratched his head. “Zhao Zhao should still stay at Chunling Cottage… This arrangement doesn’t seem quite right.”
The oval-faced maid said, “The young miss said she’d report to the Sect Leader herself. Others needn’t concern themselves.”
At a loss for words, Zeng Dalou fell silent. Fan Xingjia stepped in to ease the tension, “Have you two been serving my junior sister since childhood? What are your names?”
The round-faced maid was called Furong, and the oval-faced one was Feicui. Cai Zhao had named them both.
Fan Xingjia praised, “Your names suit you well. Junior sister chose them wisely.”
Furong explained, “Actually, I was originally called Furong Tofu, and she was Feicui Shrimp. When we grew older, the young miss found these names too long and planned to shorten them by two characters each. Fortunately, the elder miss intervened, or we’d have ended up as Tofu and Shrimp.”
Feicui added, “Poor Sister Xiajiao. She’s married with children now, but everyone still just calls her Xiajiao.”
Fan Xingjia was speechless.
Zeng Dalou had no choice but to report to Qi Yunke.
Qi Yunke didn’t object, as he wanted Chang Ning to receive proper protection. He only regretted that Cai Zhao wouldn’t have spacious and comfortable accommodations. He decided to keep Chunling Cottage reserved for Cai Zhao, allowing her to move there once Chang Ning recovered.
Moreover, Qi Yunke had a friendly chat with his young disciple about her future life in the sect. “Since you’re here, why not train with your fellow disciples? You’ll make friends and improve your skills. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Cai Zhao declined, saying that since she didn’t plan to roam the martial world in the future, there was no need to socialize with martial artists. She preferred to live in seclusion. “Just consider me a temporary resident in Qingque Sect. After three years, I’ll leave to get married. You must come to my wedding feast. Oh, and may I borrow books from the library? If I don’t understand something, I’ll come ask you.”
Qi Yunke sighed. What else could he do but agree?
The day after the failed ceremony, Cai Zhao performed the discipleship ritual. She knelt, kowtowed, burned incense, recited vows, and acknowledged the rules and ancestors. Qi Yunke muttered, asking the Three Pure Ones to bless young Miss Cai and keep her from causing trouble in the sect.
Based on his experience, even if trouble tried to avoid Cai Pingshushu, she would forcibly drag it out. He hoped Zhao Zhao’s luck wouldn’t resemble her aunt’s. Amitabha Buddha.
That night’s discipleship feast was exceptionally lavish. Apart from dragon liver, phoenix gall, thousand-year tortoise soup, and wine brewed from mermaid tears, everything else was available. This was because all the rare ingredients originally prepared for the three-day feast were used here.
Watching the disciples toast Cai Zhao, Qi Lingbo felt as if she’d swallowed a fly. Unable to eat, she twisted her slender waist and sobbed into Yin Sulian’s embrace, trying to turn her against Cai Zhao.
Despite her apparent glory, Cai Zhao faced three challenges during the meal.
The first was the Second Senior Brother Dai Fengchi. He claimed to want to “exchange martial arts with Junior Sister Cai,” but his eyes kept darting towards Qi Lingbo, who was crying in Yin Sulian’s arms—clearly, he was there to avenge his love interest.
Cai Zhao laughed, “If we compete and I win, I’ll send pigeons overnight to spread the news across half the martial world that a sheltered girl beat the famous ‘Wind-Chasing Swordsman’ Dai on her first day at the mountain. If I lose, I’ll cry to Master daily, saying you bullied me—Second Senior Brother, think carefully. There’s no taking back an arrow once it’s shot.”
Dai Fengchi froze. He wasn’t afraid of beating Cai Zhao; even if Master scolded him, it would be worth it to please Qi Lingbo. But if he lost… that would be truly embarrassing, and he wasn’t confident he could win.
His sycophant stepped forward, “How can friendly matches between sect members be spread across the world? Junior Sister Cai seems narrow-minded…”
“Lowly hands shouldn’t speak. Can you step aside?” Chang Ning’s handsome eyes were full of mockery. “Senior Brother Dai, see? I dare not interrupt.” The implication was clear: if Dai Fengchi couldn’t control his lackey, Chang Ning would step in.
Dai Fengchi, having experienced Chang Ning’s “eloquence” before, immediately said, “Junior Brother Cui, step back.” Then he pretended, “Since Junior Sister Cai is unwilling, let’s forget about the match.”
The second challenger was Song Yuzhi.
The hall was brightly lit, with pearls gleaming on the palace walls, illuminating this handsome man’s graceful figure and cold, upright demeanor.
He genuinely wanted to “exchange martial arts,” but Cai Zhao still rejected him outright.
Song Yuzhi was bewildered. “Why?”
“I don’t compete with engaged men,” Cai Zhao smiled sweetly. “It prevents jealous fiancées from causing trouble later.” Throughout history, countless rivals have become lovers after fighting, and Qi Lingbo was particularly troublesome.
Song Yuzhi’s gaze flickered. In the lamplight, the young girl’s bright teeth and clear eyes exuded a carefree spirit, like a pure mountain breeze.
He drained his cup silently and said no more after sitting down.
Chang Ning was still displeased. He felt Song Yuzhi had looked at Cai Zhao for too long, his gaze somewhat unfaithful. He wished he had already recovered so he could show the Cai girl that firefly light couldn’t compare to the bright moon!
Unfortunately, he couldn’t.
The last challenger was Ding Zhuo.
Ding Zhuo didn’t even bring a wine cup. He stood straight as a sword blade before Cai Zhao: “There’s an open space behind the mountain where I often practice. We can compete there without spectators, and no one needs to know the outcome.”
Cai Zhao recognized the martial artist’s fervor in Ding Zhuo’s eyes—not for fame or gain, not even caring about winning or losing, but purely for martial arts improvement.
She thought for a moment and replied, “All right. But give me a few days. I’ve been lazy since leaving Luoying Valley and need to limber up before I can face you.”
Ding Zhuo’s handsome face relaxed. He knew that although Cai Zhao was young, she understood that the way of martial arts shouldn’t be taken lightly, unlike the reckless Qi Lingbo.
Legend had it that top-tier martial artists would choose mountaintops among clouds for their battles, purify themselves with incense, and fast for three days to show respect for their opponents. Now, people insist on having spectators, creating a noisy, circus-like atmosphere.
Many pampered children in prestigious sects, raised with the best resources and training environments, never understood the true meaning of martial arts—the only creed that set them apart from ordinary people.
It was still manageable for men; if they didn’t work hard, they might be marginalized or even expelled from the sect to become commoners. Women, however, had the option of marriage, which often became an excuse for laziness in training.
He had always looked down on such people, regardless of gender.
But Cai Zhao was different. Though she dressed somewhat too elaborately, her eyes held the sharp spirit of a true martial artist.
“Then, in ten days, I’ll humbly await your arrival, Junior Sister,” Ding Zhuo said resolutely.
Cai Zhao replied, “It’s a deal.”