Transmigrating into the world of Jade Dynasty, I was targeted by the female lead in a reverse romanc

Behind Tongtian Peak is the Ancestral Temple.

Dusk slanted in through the tall, dusty windowpanes, illuminating the dust motes floating in the air. In the vast ancestral hall, only the rhythmic, drawn-out sound of sweeping could be heard.

Cangsong held a worn-out broom, meticulously sweeping a patch of dust that was barely noticeable in the corner of the hall.

His face was expressionless, even somewhat rigid, but his usually deep and cold eyes were strangely calm at this moment, even carrying a hint of...satisfaction.

It felt like returning to a long-lost, peaceful state.

He swept very slowly and carefully, as if he were not sweeping the floor, but performing some kind of sacred ritual.

Occasionally, his gaze would lift and glance into the depths of the ancestral hall, where an old man in a gray, worn-out robe, with one arm missing, was quietly wiping a spirit tablet on the offering table with his back to him.

The old man moved slowly, his fingertips brushing over each indented character on the memorial tablet, as if caressing a fragile treasure.

His back was hunched, yet he possessed a profound and dignified air, a quality that had been tempered by the vicissitudes of life.

After a while, Dao Xuan appeared at the entrance of the ancestral hall. He did not come in, but stood outside the threshold. His gaze lingered on Cangsong and the one-armed old man for a moment, and he said to Cangsong, "Go to Dragon Head Peak. There are some things that need your explanation."

Cangsong stopped sweeping, looked at Daoxuan, glanced at the back of the one-armed old man, nodded, put down the broom, and turned to leave the ancestral hall.

The one-armed old man, still with his back to the door, continued wiping the memorial tablet, only asking calmly, "What is it?"

Dao Xuan walked in, stopped in front of the offering table, looked at the densely packed spirit tablets, and slowly said, "Your Dragon-Slaying Sword is now in the hands of a disciple named Lin Jingyu. It was given to you by Cang Song."

Wan Jianyi's hand, which was wiping, paused almost imperceptibly.

He paused for a moment before saying, "Jingyu...that's a good name. How's your swordsmanship?"

"Exceptional talent and sincere heart, he is a fine prospect," Dao Xuan said.

"He's just a bit too straightforward and lacks tempering."

Wan Jianyi turned around. In the dim light, the wrinkles on his face were as deep as ravines, but his eyes were surprisingly bright, like two unextinguished flames. He looked at Dao Xuan without saying a word.

Dao Xuan looked at him too, their eyes meeting in the dim light, exchanging a silent message. After a few moments, Dao Xuan slowly said, "If you want to see him, have Cang Song bring him here. Just say he's... the old man who sweeps the ancestral hall, and ask him for some pointers."

Wan Jianyi's lips seemed to curve slightly, but it was very faint and fleeting. He turned around again and continued wiping the spirit tablet, only uttering a soft "hmm".

……

Dragon Head Peak, side hall of Shoujing Hall.

Lin Jingyu stood up abruptly, his face showing the sharpness unique to young people and a hint of suppressed irritation.

He looked at Qi Hao, who sat upright in front of him, and said in a somewhat agitated voice, "Senior Brother Qi, I still don't understand! What exactly did Master do wrong? Why was he punished to sweep the floor of the ancestral hall in the back mountain? In the past two years, I've asked the sect leader countless times, and every time he's given a vague answer!"

Qi Hao sighed and put down the file in his hand. He was more composed than he had been two years ago, and the air of a chief was beginning to emerge between his brows.

He looked at his junior brother, who was spirited but a little agitated due to confusion and indignation, and softened his voice: "Jingyu, the sect leader has his reasons for making this arrangement. Master's trip to the back mountain may not be a punishment. Perhaps... he has other important business. You should not go to Tongtian Peak to question this matter again. It is not good for the sect leader or Master."

"Important task? What kind of important task is sweeping the ancestral hall?" Lin Jingyu retorted, gripping the hilt of the Dragon Slayer Sword at his waist.

The emerald green scabbard sent a chill through him, reminding him of his master's deep, unfathomable eyes when the sword was handed to him, which made him feel even more stifled.

Qi Hao stood up, walked up to him, and patted his tense shoulder: "Jingyu, you are a once-in-a-century genius of Dragon Head Peak. The sect leader, senior uncle, and master all have high hopes for you. Some things, when the time comes, you will naturally understand. Right now, what you should do most is to focus on cultivation, not to let down this Dragon Slayer Sword, and not to let down your senior uncles' expectations."

Lin Jingyu's chest heaved a few times, and looking into Qi Hao's earnest eyes, the pent-up frustration finally subsided.

He turned his face away and said in a low voice, "...I understand."

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the hall. A tall figure appeared in the doorway, backlit and somewhat blurry.

Lin Jingyu and Qi Hao turned their heads to look at the same time.

It is an old pine tree.

He was wearing an ordinary dark green Taoist robe, his face expressionless, but when his gaze fell on Lin Jingyu, it softened almost imperceptibly for a moment.

"Master!" Lin Jingyu's eyes lit up as he stepped forward.

Qi Hao also bowed and greeted, "Master."

Cangsong nodded to the two of them, then turned his gaze to Lin Jingyu: "Jingyu, come with me."

"Where to?" Lin Jingyu asked, puzzled.

"Tongtian Peak, Ancestral Shrine," Cangsong said calmly, "There is a senior who wishes to meet you."

……

Behind Tongtian Peak, the stone steps stretch endlessly. Dusk deepened, and only a faint purplish-red remained on the horizon.

Cangsong walked ahead with steady steps, while Lin Jingyu followed half a step behind him, her heart filled with doubt.

Senior? The old man who sweeps the floor in the ancestral hall? What do you want to see him for?

Suddenly, Cangsong, who was walking in front, spoke. His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached Lin Jingyu's ears: "Jingyu."

"Master?" Lin Jingyu quickly replied.

"When you meet the senior later, observe more, listen more, and ask fewer questions." Cangsong continued walking. "If he asks you something, answer it. If he doesn't ask, just stand quietly."

Lin Jingyu hesitated: "Master, who exactly is that senior...?"

"A man who should have died." Cangsong interrupted him, his voice carrying a complex emotion that Lin Jingyu had never heard before. "It is your good fortune that he can guide you; do not waste it."

Lin Jingyu felt a chill run down her spine and stopped asking questions.

Looking at his master's straight back, he suddenly felt that his master seemed... different from before when sweeping the ancestral hall these past two years. He was less gloomy and cold, and more calm that he couldn't understand.

Upon entering the ancestral hall, the light suddenly dimmed, and the air was filled with the stale smell of incense and candles, as well as a faint scent of dust.

In front of the offering table, an old man wearing a gray cloth robe and missing an arm was slowly tidying up the ashes in the incense burner with his back to them.

"Senior, the person has been brought." Cangsong stopped and addressed the retreating figure with a tone of respect that Lin Jingyu had never heard before...

The old man slowly turned around.

Lin Jingyu looked up and saw a very old man with deep wrinkles on his face that could trap mosquitoes, and his broken sleeve hanging loosely.

Only his eyes, calm and deep, looked at him like two bottomless ancient pools, making Lin Jingyu's heart inexplicably tremble.

Is this what the senior is like?

He looks... just an ordinary, somewhat disheveled, one-armed old man. What advice could he possibly give me?

Lin Jingyu's initial expectation instantly cooled by half, and a hint of doubt involuntarily appeared on his face.

Wan Jianyi's gaze bypassed the pine tree and landed directly on Lin Jingyu's face, then slowly moved down to the Dragon-Slaying Sword at his waist.

The gaze was calm, yet seemingly tangible, stroking the emerald scabbard inch by inch, carrying an indescribable complex emotion.

Lin Jingyu felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and subconsciously straightened her back.

Cangsong, who was standing to the side, suddenly reached out and pressed down gently on the back of Lin Jingyu's neck.

Caught off guard, Lin Jingyu fell to his knees with a thud, his knees hitting the cold, hard gold brick floor with a sharp pain. He looked up in astonishment: "Master?"

"Call me senior." Cangsong pressed him down, his voice deep and unquestionable.

Looking at the calm and expressionless face of the one-armed old man in front of him, and then at the solemn eyes of his Uncle Cangsong, Lin Jingyu's resentment was instantly suppressed, leaving only a bellyful of confusion and a trace of humiliation from being forced to bow his head.

He gritted his teeth, lowered his head, and said in a low voice to the old man, "Disciple Lin Jingyu pays respects to... Senior."

Wan Jian glanced at his slightly reddened eyes and tightly pursed lips, his face expressionless. He simply hummed in response and said calmly, "Get up."

……