One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

On the night the Luotian Grand Ceremony ended, Longhu Mountain, which had been bustling for many days, finally revealed a rare moment of tranquility.

The martial arts arena, bustling with activity during the day, was now deserted, save for the mournful sound of the evening wind whistling through the flagpoles. Disciples from various sects were either packing their bags in their guest rooms, preparing for their departure the next day; or gathering in small groups in the corners of the courtyard, exchanging contact information and promising to meet again at a later time. Some young disciples who had been defeated and injured in the competitions were secretly wiping away tears in secluded places—the tears reflecting a mix of resentment, grievance, and self-doubt and confusion that had arisen after witnessing so many masters along the way.

The chirping of insects in the mountains sounded exceptionally clear, intertwining with the faint chanting of Taoist priests performing their evening prayers in the distance, creating an illusion that the dust had settled after a great battle.

However, beneath this tranquility, undercurrents never cease.

The Quiet Room in the Backyard of the Celestial Master's Mansion

The candlelight burned quietly on the exquisite bronze lampstand, occasionally bursting into a tiny spark with a soft crackling sound. Wisps of sandalwood smoke rose and swirled in the quiet room, yet could not dispel the invisible heaviness.

Zhang Chulan knelt on the prayer mat opposite the old master Zhang Zhiwei, his back straight, his hands on his knees, his fingertips slightly white from the effort, and his palms already soaked with cold sweat.

Several attempts to pass on the Celestial Master's teachings ended in failure. The Qi within him and the vast, profound, and heavy power transferred from the old Celestial Master were like oil and water, unable to truly merge. Each encounter sent tremors through his mind, as if his soul were about to be overwhelmed by the immense torrent of information and responsibility.

"Chu Lan," the old Celestial Master said, sitting cross-legged on the main seat's futon, his eyes slightly closed, his voice calm and undisturbed, yet carrying a power that went straight to the heart, "calm your mind. The inheritance of the Celestial Master's Degree concerns the Great Dao and is tied to life itself; it allows no distracting thoughts or hesitations."

"I...I'm calming myself down..." Zhang Chulan subconsciously argued, but his voice was a little dry. His mind was like a chaotic marathon, with countless thoughts clashing wildly—Feng Ge's resolute and frank eyes when he conceded defeat in the final, Bao'er Jie's clear eyes that seemed to hide endless mist, Xu San and Xu Si's entrustment, and...Grandpa Zhang Huaiyi's blurry and tragic back.

The old master slowly opened his eyes. Those eyes, weathered by a century of vicissitudes, clear as a child's yet deep as an ancient well, quietly fell upon Zhang Chulan's face, as if they could see through all his pretense and struggles.

"What are you thinking about?" The old master's voice wasn't loud, but it struck Zhang Chulan's heart like a heavy hammer.

Zhang Chulan's Adam's apple bobbed, his lips trembled, and he hesitated several times before finally taking a deep breath, as if using all his strength, raising his head to meet the Old Master's gaze, and asking the question that had been lingering in his mind for so long, a question that weighed heavily on his mind:

"Master... if I accept the Heavenly Master's inheritance, what... what will happen to you? Will you... die?"

The air in the quiet room seemed to freeze completely at that moment.

The flickering candlelight cast swaying shadows on their faces, and the sandalwood smoke seemed to have stopped rising. Only Zhang Chulan's own heartbeat, pounding like a drum, sounded particularly jarring in the deathly silence.

The old master did not answer. He simply looked at Zhang Chulan quietly, his gaze complex and unfathomable, containing relief, pity, melancholy, and a profound emotion belonging to an elder that Zhang Chulan could not fully comprehend. That silence itself was like an invisible mountain, slowly but irresistibly pressing down, almost suffocating Zhang Chulan.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms, trying to use the pain to dispel the fear and confusion in his heart. Another question then blurted out:

"And... Master, if I accept the inheritance and learn those secrets... those secrets about the Jia Shen Rebellion, about the Eight Extraordinary Techniques, about... about my grandfather... can I tell others? Can I tell Brother Feng? Can I tell Sister Bao'er, who has always helped and protected me, and my third and fourth brothers? I..."

In the end, he didn't dare to ask the question he most wanted to ask—could I...not accept it?

The old master remained silent.

The silence was no longer a mountain, but a bottomless, icy pool, slowly dragging Zhang Chulan into coldness and darkness. He felt his courage rapidly slipping away, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Just as this suffocating silence, threatening to crush his reason, reached its peak—

"ah--!!!"

A piercing scream, so shrill it was inhuman, suddenly tore through the tranquil night sky of Longhu Mountain, like cloth being pierced by a sharp blade!

The sound was filled with extreme pain and fear, and it instantly spread throughout the mountaintop!

Then came the second, and the third! Screams, shouts, the clang of clashing weapons, and the booming of exploding Qi swept in from the direction of the mountain gate like a tsunami! The sounds grew more and more frequent and louder, and in an instant, the entire Longhu Mountain seemed to be awakened from its slumber, plunged into sudden chaos and clamor!

"Enemy attack—!!!"

"The demons of Quanxing are attacking the mountain!!"

"Guard the mountain gate! Protect the pilgrims!!"

"Sound the alarm! Quickly!"

"The southeast corner needs support!"

The chaotic shouts and fighting sounds mingled together, accompanied by the loud crash of collapsing buildings and faint cries, causing the candlelight in the quiet room to flicker violently.

The old Celestial Master Zhang Zhiwei suddenly stood up! His originally peaceful and calm expression vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling and majestic aura. His eyes flashed with cold light, and the aura around him, as deep as the ocean, rippled slightly, causing the air in the entire quiet room to freeze!

"Quanxing..." The old Celestial Master's voice was like an ice bead falling to the ground, cold and piercing, "What audacity! How dare you run wild here and now!"

He abruptly turned to look at Zhang Chulan, whose face was pale and who seemed somewhat at a loss, and said in a tone that left no room for doubt: "Stay here, and don't leave even a step! The quiet room is protected by an array, and ordinary people can't get in."

Before he finished speaking, the old master's figure had already become blurry. In the next instant, he disappeared from the spot like a ghost, leaving only a slight ripple in the air and an echoing voice: "I'll be right back."

Zhang Chulan stood frozen, his mind blank. A few seconds later, a tremendous sense of crisis and an inexplicable impulse surged through him. He gritted his teeth and rushed out of the meditation room, running towards the direction where the fighting was most intense. He couldn't hide here! Brother Feng, Sister Bao'er, Junior Uncle, Grandpa Lu… everyone was outside!

The candlelight flickered in Nie Lingfeng's room as well.

He sat at the table, slowly wiping the blade of the Snow Drinking Blade with a fine velvet cloth. The blade was as clear as ice jade, shimmering with a cold, pale blue light under the candlelight, as if absorbing the cool moonlight from outside the window. His movements were slow and meticulous, examining every tiny line from the guard to the tip, as if communicating with this divine weapon and calming his own chaotic thoughts.

Feng Baobao sat on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, her face pressed against them. Her large, clear eyes, though unfocused, gazed silently at the increasingly noisy and chaotic night sky outside the window. She was still holding the straw she used to drink Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor), turning it unconsciously in her hand.

"Sister Bao'er," Nie Lingfeng said calmly, without looking up, still focused on wiping the knife, "did you hear me?"

"Hmm." Feng Baobao nodded, her tone completely flat, as if she were simply stating what she had eaten that day. "A fight broke out. Lots of people. Down the mountain, and... there are some on the back mountain too."

"The Quanxing Sect has attacked the mountain." Nie Lingfeng brushed away the last bit of dust, flipped his wrist, and the Snow Drinking Blade emitted a clear, low hum before returning to its ancient scabbard. "It's almost exactly the same as the 'plot' I know." He muttered to himself, the latter half of the sentence almost inaudible.

"Plot?" Feng Baobao tilted her head, a rare look of doubt in her eyes.

"It's nothing." Nie Lingfeng stood up, steadily slung the Snow Drinking Blade behind his back, and tightened the straps. "Sister Bao'er, go to the back mountain right now, to the vicinity of the meditation room where the Old Celestial Master was in seclusion, and find Chu Lan. If I'm not mistaken, the Old Celestial Master was just transmitting the Celestial Master's Instruction to him. There are formations set up there, so it's relatively safe—but it might also become a target for some people."

"Got it." Upon hearing this, Feng Baobao immediately jumped off the bed. She pulled out her ever-present kitchen knife, its blade gleaming coldly, from somewhere, weighed it in her hand, and then looked at Nie Lingfeng: "And you?"

"Me?" Nie Lingfeng walked to the door, placed his hand on the latch, and curled a cold smile at the corner of his mouth. "I'll go see which blind fools dare to cause trouble in Longhu Mountain. And while I'm at it... I'll stretch my muscles."

He pushed open the door, and the chaotic sounds and faint smell of blood outside rushed towards him. Nie Lingfeng took a deep breath of the cold and restless air. Beneath his clothes, the fire unicorn tattoo on his chest pulsated with a clear and warm sensation, as if a slumbering beast had been awakened by the killing intent outside, ready to pounce.

"Time to get to work."

He spoke softly, took a step forward, and his figure disappeared into the thick darkness outside the door.

Feng Baobao blinked as she watched the direction he disappeared in, then her figure flickered, like a wisp of smoke in the night, and she sped off towards the back mountain at an astonishing speed, disappearing in a few leaps.