The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

It wasn't until the early morning of the third day, when the sky was just beginning to lighten and the eastern horizon was just turning a pale white, that the three days ended.

Zuo Qingqiu opened her eyes, a flash of purple lightning appearing in her beautiful, cold gaze before returning to a deep, calm state.

What's meant to happen will happen eventually.

She got up, and Xiaobai had already prepared her toiletries and a brand-new dress that met the standards for the ancestral worship ceremony—not the simple Taoist robe she usually wore, but a more solemn and luxurious deep purple palace dress, embroidered with intricate cloud and thunder patterns in gold thread, with a trailing hem, dignified and elegant.

"Sister, you have to wear this today!" Little White held up the clothes, her eyes sparkling. "I heard the ancestral worship ceremony is very grand!"

Zuo Qingqiu glanced at the overly ornate palace attire, her brows furrowing almost imperceptibly, but she ultimately nodded.

Since it is an ancestral worship ceremony, dressing formally is a proper etiquette.

With Xiaobai's clumsy but earnest help, she changed into that deep purple palace dress.

The bronze mirror reflected a figure completely different from his usual aloof and ethereal self. Dressed in magnificent robes, with his hair styled in a high bun and adorned with golden hairpins, his features were exquisite yet exuded an air of authority, possessing both the beauty of a woman and the majestic bearing of a true lord.

"Sister is so beautiful!" Xiaobai exclaimed sincerely, circling around Zuo Qingqiu. "Like a fairy from heaven... no, even more beautiful than a fairy!"

Zuo Qingqiu glanced at her indifferently, without replying, and simply said, "It's time to go."

Xiao Bai consciously returned to the spirit beast bracelet. Zuo Qingqiu pushed open the door. The morning breeze was crisp and carried the unique scent of grass and trees from the mountains.

She neither rode the wind nor cast any spells. She simply walked out of the old house step by step, like an ordinary person, along the mountain path paved with bluestone slabs, toward the main peak of the Cuiwei Mountains—the mountaintop where the Zuo family ancestral hall is located.

Along both sides of the mountain road, many members of the Zuo family were climbing the mountain.

There were cultivators and ordinary people.

Upon seeing her approach, regardless of age or cultivation level, everyone bowed and lowered their heads, holding their breath and not daring to make the slightest noise. Their eyes were filled with awe, curiosity, and indescribable excitement and honor.

True Lord Ancient Ancestor!

The Zuo family actually produced a Golden Core True Monarch!

What a glory this is!

This is enough to ensure that the Zuo family will stand strong for the next ten thousand years, and may even go further!

Zuo Qingqiu kept her eyes straight ahead and walked with a composed gait.

The deep purple skirt swept across the stone steps without picking up a speck of dust.

Her expression was calm, her gaze distant, as if the path beneath her feet was not a mountain road leading to the family ancestral hall, but a ladder to the heavens.

The natural aura emanating from it, belonging to a higher level of life, made everyone subconsciously lower their heads and their hearts race.

As the mountain road ascended, clouds and mist began to swirl around us.

Ordinary people would be out of breath by this point, but for Zuo Qingqiu, it was like walking on flat ground.

Finally, she reached the summit of the majestic main peak.

The view from the summit suddenly opened up.

The entire summit was clearly carved away long ago by a powerful being using their immense magical abilities, leaving behind a vast, flat, mirror-like white marble plaza. The plaza is large enough to accommodate tens of thousands of people without feeling crowded.

The square was now packed with people.

The area near the central altar was clearly demarcated.

At the very front was the core area of ​​the clan, where hundreds of prayer mats were laid out for the clan's cultivators. Behind them was a much larger open area, densely packed with clansmen who had returned from all over the surrounding area of ​​the Cuiwei Mountains. It was a dark mass, probably numbering in the tens of thousands.

The distinction between cultivators and mortals is clear.

The cultivators, some riding flying swords and others traveling on the wind, gathered from all directions, landing at the edge of the plaza. They then walked to their respective areas, talking in hushed tones, but most maintained a solemn demeanor, embodying the spirit of cultivators.

Ordinary people, on the other hand, usually start climbing along the winding and steep mountain paths before dawn. At this moment, most of them are covered in dust and look tired, but their eyes are full of excitement and piety.

For them, being able to participate in such a once-in-a-millennium ancestral worship ceremony and witness the true face of their ancestors is already a great honor and a topic of conversation.

Zuo Qingqiu's appearance was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake.

The square, which had been slightly noisy, fell completely silent in an instant.

All eyes turned to the purple figure that slowly emerged from the clouds.

Just then, sunlight pierced through the clouds and fell upon her, gilding her with a sacred golden edge. The gold thread cloud and thunder patterns on her deep purple palace dress shimmered in the sunlight, as if they had come alive.

She possessed stunning beauty and a cool, aloof demeanor, yet also carried an air of majesty that looked down upon all living beings, like a celestial being descended to earth, or an ancient deity descended to earth.

"Greetings, Ancient Ancestor!!!"

Someone shouted first, and then a thunderous roar of greetings echoed across the entire peak, reverberating among the mountains!

Whether they were high-ranking cultivators or humble farmers, they all faced Zuo Qingqiu and bowed deeply, their heads touching the cold white marble floor to show their utmost respect.

Zuo Qingqiu's gaze calmly swept over the dark mass of people below, passing over their faces that were excited, awe-inspiring, or fanatical, and finally landed on the tall and magnificent altar that had already been erected at the very front of the square.

The altar is made of green jade and consists of three layers that taper upwards in a stepped manner.

The top shelf houses the ancestral tablets of past generations, recently brought from the Zuo family ancestral hall. They are densely packed together, numbering no less than several thousand. In front of the tablets, incense tables, offerings, and ritual implements are all complete, creating a solemn and dignified atmosphere.

In front of the altar, three white-haired elders—Zuo Xiuxian, Zuo Zhaocheng, and Zuo Yuxuan—dressed in the most solemn family robes, stood waiting.

Behind them were five young Purple Mansion cultivators, including Zuo Chunqiu, and further back were hundreds of Zuo family cultivators, arranged in order of cultivation level and seniority.

Zuo Qingqiu nodded slightly, which was her way of responding to everyone's greetings.

Then she stepped forward and walked toward the altar.

Wherever she went, no one dared to look up directly; all they could see was the deep purple hem of her skirt trailing across the smooth white marble floor in the sunlight, like purple clouds passing by, untouched by the mortal world.

She walked to the altar, and the three elders immediately bowed: "Ancestor, the auspicious time is approaching, and everything is ready. Please ascend the altar to preside over the ceremony!"

Zuo Qingqiu's gaze swept over the densely packed memorial tablets on the altar. At the very front, she saw the "Spirit Tablets of the Ancestors of the Zuo Family," as well as the relatively newer tablets of her parents and sister, which were placed in a more prominent position.

She nodded without saying anything more and climbed the steps.

The white marble steps were cold and hard, and each step produced a slight, crisp echo that was particularly clear in the quiet square.

Finally, she ascended to the top of the altar, stood before the incense table, her back to the thousands of clansmen below, and faced the solemn ancestral tablets.

Sunlight streamed onto the altar, casting her solitary shadow long.

A gust of wind rose, whipping her skirt and hair, making them flutter and rustle.

The ancestral worship ceremony is about to begin.

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