Fleeting Dream Across Three Lifetimes - Chapter 7

Entering Wuji Sect, Qin Mohan handed over her visiting card. The gatekeeping outer disciple glanced at her, then tossed the card back. He drawled lazily, “Go on, our Wuji Sect’s disciple recruitment period has passed. Come back in three years, don’t waste my time.”

Qin Mohan’s expression did not change, her voice still calm as she said, “I must trouble senior brother to let me through, I am Lin Qingchen, and I seek an audience with Elder Luo Yuan.”

“Elder Luo Yuan? You? You think you can see Elder Luo Yuan? I’ve never met someone so shameless,” the disciple sneered. This girl looked quite pretty, but was she a fool? He had meant to go on mocking, but just then, a man in a pale blue robe happened to walk past. The disciple quickly shut his mouth, plastered on a smile, and respectfully saluted, “Lan-shishu, are you going down the mountain?”

(T/N. Shishu: The literal meaning is “martial uncle,” yet it’s gender-neutral. It refers to both male and female, older and younger, martial siblings of one’s own master.)

The man called Lan-shishu looked to be only in his twenties, with handsome, jade-like features, heroic sword brows, long narrow eyes, and a faint smile at his lips, his bearing elegant and striking.

“That’s right, but what’s going on here? You two seem to be quarreling?” His voice was low and pleasant, carrying the calm magnetism of a young man, very easy on the ear.

The outer disciple hurried to explain, “Shishu, this young lady wants to join the sect, and even demanded to see Luo Yuan-shishuzu. But the disciple-recruitment period has already passed, so I was about to dismiss her.”

(T/N. Adding “zu” to the word “shishu” which means the person is one generation above one’s shizun. The English counterpart would be “grand martial uncle”)

“Oh, she wishes to see my shizun?” Lan Xuan’s gaze fell on Lin Qingchen. From the beginning, this woman had simply stood quietly aside. Apart from glancing at him once at first sight, she had only listened calmly to their exchange, detached as drifting clouds. It intrigued Lan Xuan, who was accustomed to adoring and envious gazes.

(T/N. Shizun: Teacher/master.)

Following her principle of “the less said, the fewer mistakes,” and being disinclined to speak much anyway, Qin Mohan replied politely to his curious question, “Qingchen greets Third-shixiong. I was taken in earlier by Shizun, but due to an injury, I was delayed and missed the apprenticeship ceremony. Thus I rushed here today to seek Shizun and beg for forgiveness.”

(T/N. Shixiong: Older martial brother. For senior male members of one’s own sect.)

Lan Xuan was taken aback. So this was Lin Qingchen. Shizun had not accepted a disciple for more than a hundred years, but suddenly declared he had taken a little junior sister—so it was her. He studied her closely, a smile slowly rising in his eyes. “So it’s Little Shimei. Shizun has mentioned you to us, and we’ve been wondering when we’d get to meet you. What a coincidence.”

(T/N. Shimei: Younger martial sister. For junior female members of one’s own sect.)

The disciple beside them turned pale, stammering as he looked at Lin Qingchen, “Th-this disciple was blind and failed to recognize Qingchen-shishu. I offended you with my words earlier, please forgive me, Shishu!”

Qin Mohan did not care much, but just as she was about to speak, Lan Xuan patted the disciple’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Qingchen has only just come up the mountain; it’s natural you didn’t recognize her. Just remember next time. Go on.”

Qin Mohan glanced thoughtfully at the disciple, who left full of gratitude, then at the warm, refined smile of Lan Xuan, and she gave a faint smile.

Lan Xuan said to her with a smile, “Outer disciples work very hard, so it’s inevitable they get impatient. I hope Shimei won’t mind. I was about to go down the mountain to buy wine for Shizun, but since you’ve come, I’ll take you to see him first. When I return, I’ll show you around Ziyun Peak properly.”

“Thank you, Shixiong.” This senior brother really looked like a gentleman. But inwardly, Qin Mohan shook her head and pretended not to notice.

The two of them flew on their swords. Lan Xuan did not slow for Qin Mohan in the slightest, and his speed was very fast. Even though she had already reached Foundation Establishment, she felt uncomfortable.

When they stopped, Lan Xuan withdrew his sword and saw that Qin Mohan’s face looked pale. Regret immediately showed on his face. “How careless of me! Shimei has not formally entered the sect yet, and your cultivation is insufficient. I forgot to shield you—damn, damn.”

He truly looked remorseful, but Qin Mohan only shook her head and smiled lightly. “I didn’t remind Shixiong either. Besides, lacking cultivation is my own fault, how could I blame Third-shixiong? Since you must still buy wine for Shizun, I’ll go on my own. Better not keep Shizun waiting.”

Lan Xuan’s smile didn’t fade, his voice gentle. “Shizun treats us disciples well, but his temper is peculiar. Don’t contradict him. Just listen quietly. He hates being argued with, understand?”

After his warning, Lan Xuan left. To him, although Qin Mohan appeared aloof and indifferent, she seemed harmless enough, not asking unnecessary questions, easier to handle than he had imagined. It seemed Shizun’s new disciple wasn’t anything special.

Qin Mohan didn’t quite understand where Lan Xuan’s hostility toward her came from, but she knew his type well—a smiling tiger. She didn’t believe for a moment that his earlier actions were truly in her interest. Someone who had lived nearly a hundred years in cultivation wouldn’t overlook such details or make such mistakes. Still, although Luo Yuan had accepted her, the reason wasn’t simply her talent. There was also… Qin Mohan felt a headache coming on. Her father Lin Zong had set up a trap for the straightforward Luo Yuan, forcing him into accepting his daughter as disciple. Qin Mohan thought grimly that her days ahead would not be easy.

She shook her head. Soldiers block soldiers, water blocks water. Whatever comes, she’d deal with it. However difficult Luo Yuan was, he would not go so far as to truly torment a junior. Straightening her clothes, Qin Mohan walked slowly to Luo Yuan’s courtyard.

The courtyard was simply furnished, but the lone scarlet fruit tree heavy with fruit betrayed his extraordinary identity. It was a sixth-rank spiritual fruit, the most cherished by cultivators, rich in spiritual energy, delicious in taste, and an essential ingredient in Foundation Establishment and Golden Core pills.

Qin Mohan looked at it briefly, then turned her gaze to the tightly closed doors. She took a few steps forward, lowered her head in thought, then bowed and knelt, knocking her head to the ground. “Disciple Lin Qingchen, comes to pay respects… to the peak master.”

No sooner had she spoken than a cold snort came from within. “What’s this, the Lin family has grown so arrogant? Even their little yellow-haired girl won’t deign to call me Shizun?”

Qin Mohan lowered her eyes, smiling faintly, and said in a clear voice, “Qingchen dares not. Because private matters delayed the ceremony, I have yet to perform the rites of apprenticeship. I dare not presume to call myself a disciple. Thus I come to beg pardon and ask Shizun’s understanding.”

“So, you claim you dare not call yourself a disciple, and yet that ‘Shizun’ just now rolled so easily off your tongue.” With that, a middle-aged man in white robes walked out. He looked only in his thirties, though his temples were already flecked with gray. His eyes were sharp and reserved, his face stern, carrying an air of authority.

Qin Mohan cupped her hands once more, her tone steady. “Shizun rebuked me just now, so Qingchen admits her fault, and has corrected it.”

Admitting fault and correcting it. There was nothing wrong in that. Luo Yuan’s brows furrowed. He felt some anger, but couldn’t think what else to say. He only continued coldly, “I agreed to take you as disciple, yet you failed to attend the apprenticeship ceremony. Clearly you look down on me.”

“Shizun, calm your anger, it was Qingchen’s fault. Some days ago I was careless and was injured by another’s artifact, which caused me to miss the ceremony. Qingchen is willing to accept punishment.” Qin Mohan looked solemn and once more knelt to the ground.

Luo Yuan regarded her doubtfully, then stepped forward and sent a surge of spiritual power directly into her body, making Qin Mohan’s heart tighten. His cultivation was far higher than anyone in the Lin family. Would he see through that she was not Lin Qingchen?

She raised her eyes, expression unchanging, and met Luo Yuan’s gaze. The deeper his frown, the sharper his eyes bore into her. Sweat nearly dampened her palms, but her face remained calm.

After a long moment, Luo Yuan withdrew his power and asked in surprise, “What kind of artifact injured you?”

“Replying to Shizun, it was a Heaven-grade artifact of the Su family.”

After probing her meridians, Luo Yuan gave a doubtful grunt. “The Su family’s Heaven-grade artifact is that powerful? Forget it. You’re lucky enough to have kept your life, so we’ll let it go for now. Tomorrow, remember to come offer tea. Afterward, train well with your senior brothers and sisters.”

Qin Mohan agreed, withdrew respectfully, and left. Luo Yuan stroked his beard, a hint of amusement in his eyes. This girl was more interesting than the rest of the Lin clan. Nineteen years old and already at Foundation Establishment? Very good indeed.

***

Ziyun Peak was not large. Within the whole mountain there was a martial practice ground and the disciples’ dwellings at its base. Behind Luo Yuan’s courtyard stood a three-story purple-gold pavilion, the Ziyun Pavilion, where all of Ziyun Peak’s cultivation manuals and secret arts were stored.

As Qin Mohan left the courtyard, a woman in a violet gauze dress came toward her with a gentle smile. “So this is our little shimei?”

“Qingchen greets Second-shijie.” This was Le Fan, Luo Yuan’s second disciple, now in the middle stage of Golden Core, and the strongest among his three disciples. She had formed her core before a hundred years of age, a genius of Wuji Sect, her talent second only to Yan Xiao, the chief disciple of Luori Peak.

(T/N. Shijie: Older martial sister. For senior female members of one’s own sect.)

“Shizun asked me to help you get familiar with Ziyun Peak. I’ll first take you to your courtyard so you can change clothes, then I’ll show you around in detail. How does that sound?” Le Fan’s features were delicate and gentle. Though blessed with extraordinary talent, her temperament was kind, far easier to get along with than Lan Xuan.

Once Qin Mohan had learned the general layout of Ziyun Peak, Le Fan led her into the Ziyun Pavilion. The three-story loft, built of profound spiritwood, was elegant and grand. The first floor’s main hall was lined with bookshelves, each book flipping its own pages as spiritual energy flowed between them, forming phantom images of their contents. Now and then, a line of ink-black script would appear in midair—strange and magical.

“All the texts on the first floor are accessible to you, but whether you can read them depends on your ability. The second floor can only be entered after reaching Golden Core, and as for the third floor, only Shizun and the sect leader have the right to enter. Little Shimei, you’ll fall in love with this place.” Le Fan stretched out her hand, and a spinning booklet instantly stopped. Countless characters neatly unfolded before her, the foremost four in golden seal script: Record of Wuji Sect. Then rows of fine characters floated like a screen of light. Qin Mohan stood tall, a flicker of surprise in her gaze, but soon returned to calm, only watching carefully.

A glimmer of light flashed in Le Fan’s eyes as her lips curved in a smile. This was the first time she had seen someone face the wonders of Ziyun Pavilion so composedly. Nineteen years old, a direct daughter of the Lin family. She was indeed surprised.

Qin Mohan was not unmoved, only clear-headed. In this world, what truly demanded her focus was not these marvels, but how she might quickly understand them, and how to adapt. After all, she came from another world. To act too astonished would make her look unsophisticated and draw suspicion, not to mention disgrace her. Besides, her worldview had already been upended too many times by Zhi Mo, so she would not be so easily dumbfounded.

“Each morning, go to the main peak to listen to the sect leader and elders lecture, then you may cultivate on your own. If you need anything, seek Shuori, the steward disciple of this peak. As for cultivation, Shixiong is in seclusion, but Lan Xuan and I will teach you some methods. The rest, you must comprehend yourself in Ziyun Pavilion.”

“Thank you, Shijie.” Qin Mohan voiced her thanks, then after a moment’s hesitation asked, “Shijie, has Ziyun Peak accepted disciples in the past few days?”

Le Fan looked at her. “Yes, the peak accepted a few inner disciples, they’re with Shuori now. But as for personal disciples, this year Ziyun Peak only accepted you. Why?”

Qin Mohan shook her head. “A friend of mine also came to Wuji Sect. I don’t know if she managed to enter, so I wanted to ask.”

“You can go ask Shuori, he handles such matters. If there’s nothing else, shall I take my leave?”

“Take care, Shijie.” Qin Mohan bowed, watching her depart.

She had not met many today, but she had discovered enough. Her shizun did not seem like a bad person. As for her shijie, she could not see through her yet. But that Third-shixiong, he must be guarded against.

Now dressed in the azure robes of Ziyun Peak’s personal disciples, sleeves fluttering, she truly looked ethereal. As she walked, many disciples in white robes greeted her respectfully.

Disciples of Ziyun Peak were divided into four ranks besides the personal disciples. Those in white robes were inner peak disciples, able to train alongside but of lower generation. Those in gray robes mainly handled Ziyun Peak’s affairs, though they could also cultivate in spare time. And finally, those without spiritual roots wore coarse cloth, clever and hardworking, serving as menial disciples responsible for meals, tending spirit beasts and herbs, and cleaning.

Following the directions Le Fan had given her, Qin Mohan headed toward Shuori’s courtyard. Her expression remained calm, almost aloof to outsiders, but the faint curl of her fingers within her sleeves betrayed the unease she was suppressing.

She had said, no matter if she were in Wuji Sect or not, she would find her. But if she truly wasn’t here, then in this world where the plot had already collapsed, where could she even begin to search?

T/N: Mohan lied to Luo Yuan, saying it was just a Heaven-grade when it’s actually a Celestial-grade. And I knoooow the shi-this and shi-that can be confusing especially for first time readers, but it’s much easier for the translators and will be easier for you in the future once you get used to it. Take it as -chan -kun or -senpai and stuff from Japanese. Besides, there’s no English equivalent for some terms, like -shishu. Not like we want to translate it into “Teacher Uncle”, right? HSAHSDH I will still insert their English counterpart here and there, so don’t worry!