Time flashed by, and it was March. Through Ling Wu's tireless efforts, she had, in half a year, achieved something like actual learning.
When Qingchen heard, he decided to find an occasion to take her down to the mortal realm for a trial.
A real trial, this time.
But before the appointed day, Sifan summoned Master away—matter of life and death, he said. The trip would take a month.
The last time Master had been gone this long, the Chaos Bell that kept the Devil Sovereign suppressed had cracked, and he had joined the other immortals in laying a new seal upon it.
When he returned that time, his face had been deathly pale, his whole body wrung with exhaustion.
He told the senior brothers to look after themselves, then went into seclusion—and stayed there a full year.
What could it be this time?
Ling Wu felt low. The mountain held only Master, Eldest Senior Brother, and her now. Once Master left, and Eldest Senior Brother followed to hunt demons, she'd be alone in the world again.
The path of cultivation was long. Truly, terribly lonely.
Well—those fated to be strong were fated to know solitude.
So Ling Wu consoled herself.
The night before Qingchen left, Ji Xunzhi charged Ling Wu a hundred times to rise early, so the two of them could see Master off together.
A disciple never forgot the courtesies.
She didn't get up.
By the time she panted up the hilltop, Qingchen was long gone—only Eldest Senior Brother remained, wearing the face of a jilted wife.
He looked at her, disappointment pouring off him, muttering over and over: “What am I to say to you, Little Junior Sister! Master, on his way out, kept glancing toward your peak! Anyone could see he was waiting for you to see him off—and you, you slept later than a pig!”
She had no case to argue, so Ling Wu rubbed her nose awkwardly: “Eldest Senior Brother knows your junior sister loves her morning sleep. Why not send a spirit pet to wake her?”
“You have the nerve! The spirit bird had sung two notes when your stray talisman burned a tuft off its tail—it's been too scared to peep since!” At the mention of the bird, Ji Xunzhi's anger came rushing back. He pressed on, grief-stricken: “I only just acquired it on my last trip below! Do you know how hard it was to train? We'd only just taught it to carry messages—and after your stunt, I doubt it will ever leave the perch again!”
The bird had flown back and wept at him for a good long while; he'd spent ages talking it out of holding a grudge. With a Little Junior Sister who repaid every slight in kind, who knew—if provoked further, she might have stewed the thing into soup.
Looking at Ji Xunzhi's face, Ling Wu felt her guilt plainly and took the scolding like a lamb.
She'd assumed it was some wild bird passing by—its call sounded like any other. How was she to know it was Eldest Senior Brother's pet!
Luckily it was only a tuft of feathers. Had anything worse happened, the fault truly would have been enormous.
“It's my fault. Next time I see it, I'll make it up to it properly.”
“No need to trouble Little Junior Sister.”
The bird went into shock at the sight of her. Better they never meet again.
Ling Wu missed the loathing in his tone entirely, considered the matter closed, and walked off without a backward glance.
Half a year of restraint had nearly suffocated her. Master kept dropping in to inspect her progress, and she hadn't found a moment to read the storybooks Eldest Senior Brother brought back last time.
Counting them out, she'd stockpiled nearly twenty. If she didn't finish them soon, she'd fall behind on mortal memes altogether.
She refused to become, on her next trip below, one of those ancients the mortals pointed at.
Staying ahead of the trends was simply standard practice for her.
Cultivation, it seemed, made a person forget her roots—Ling Wu had entirely forgotten that she herself was a mortal.
One day, Ji Xunzhi came by for his usual chat. Finding her buried in a storybook and ignoring him, he simply took out a book of his own and read.
His book, however, was not like hers. It was the Wordless Heavenly Book, a gift from Immortal Lord Sifan in years past.
One copy in all the world, above heaven and beneath it. He treasured it dearly.
Ling Wu found his presence an obstruction, ruining her full-immersion reading experience, and turned to shoo him off.
“Eldest Senior Brother, why are you such an eyesore first thing in the morning—”
The words died in her throat; her eyes went round.
Look at what Eldest Senior Brother was holding!
The Wordless Heavenly Book!
Search all Three Realms—there was only the one.
If every ancient text in the world were ranked from dud to treasure, the Wordless Heavenly Book would be the treasure of treasures.
No money could buy it—it took fate itself to obtain, and talent beyond talent to read.
And Ji Xunzhi, conveniently, had both. So he wanted it, and it came to him.
He'd flaunted the thing before Ling Wu plenty of times. The way he told it, the book held every cultivation shortcut under heaven, and Ling Wu had believed him—why else would Ji Xunzhi be the fastest to ascend on Mount Kunlun, Master excepted?
She had begged for it countless times, never once managing to touch its edge.
And now the thing sat right in front of her—one light tug and it would be hers. How was she supposed to stay calm!
Smothering the restlessness in her chest, Ling Wu made conversation: “Eldest Senior Brother, so diligent today? Could it be your junior sister's scholarly aura has finally rubbed off on you?”
“Don't gild yourself, Little Junior Sister. What are you even reading? This is the Wordless Heavenly Book—no mortal storybook can compare.” Without so much as a glance at her, he turned his pages.
Ling Wu's chest heaved, but she kept her smile bland: “Of course. Such a rarity—my storybooks can't hold a candle to it.”
As she spoke, she sidled a step closer and craned her neck at the book in his hands.
Blank white, not a single word. Ling Wu refused to give up; she rubbed her eyes and looked again. Still nothing.
Clearly her talent fell short.
Which only made her more jealous.
Why should a peacock like Eldest Senior Brother own such a treasure? True, the book was blank and offered her nothing to read—but with a reputation like that, merely holding it for show would do wonders for her face!
“Little Junior Sister knows quality.” Ji Xunzhi grinned, satisfied.
Before he could say another word, Ling Wu plucked the Wordless Heavenly Book clean out of his hands, greed written all over her face.
“You've looked long enough, Eldest Senior Brother. Let your junior sister admire it too.”
Ji Xunzhi could only marvel at her speed: “Little Junior Sister, master thief.”
“Tch—this is called strategy, Eldest Senior Brother.”
Book in hand, Ling Wu felt her spine straighten several degrees. It really did lend face.
She couldn't even imagine: if she paraded this around the other senior brothers' peaks, what faces would they make? Envy, jealousy, hatred—every last one!
She flipped the pages with a great snapping of paper, pride pouring off her.
The racket darkened Ji Xunzhi's face considerably. “Have you understood all of it? Turning pages that fast—don't you dare ruin my book!”
Ling Wu smiled sweetly: “My talent is every bit Eldest Senior Brother's equal. What he can read, so can I.”
Ji Xunzhi's mouth twitched: “As a matter of fact—past the first page, your senior brother has never comprehended a word.”
Ling Wu's smile froze. That witch—turning her own flattery into an ambush!
She'd meant to praise him and bask in the glow herself; instead he'd made a fool of her.
She rolled her eyes. Be the bigger person. Don't stoop to his level.