Mortal: Starting with the Seven Mysterious Sects, I proved my Dao through sacrifice.

Since becoming a disciple of Hong Fu, Murong Fan received her devoted training and gained the favor of Elder Linghu, who gifted him a booklet to improve his cultivation. He also rose to fame in his battle against his senior brother Liu Jing. This made him unparalleled in Huangfeng Valley, consistently topping the valley's trending topics. Naturally, the elders of the valley, the clans of cultivation families, and even his master Hong Fu all wanted to curry favor with Murong Fan. They brought gifts to Hong Fu and tried to arrange marriages for him.

Hong Fu sat by the window of the quiet room, holding a warm white jade in her hand. The sunlight outside filtered through the sparse bamboo leaves and fell on her plain white Taoist robe, but it could not dispel the faint sorrow between her brows.

These days, elders and stewards from aristocratic families have been coming to visit in an endless stream. Ostensibly, they are concerned about Murong Fan's cultivation, but in reality, nine times out of ten, they all come to talk about "marriage".

Some said their nieces were intelligent and beautiful, a perfect match for Murong Fan; others mentioned an elder's granddaughter, gentle, virtuous, well-educated, thrifty, and capable of managing Murong Fan's cave dwelling, allowing him to focus on cultivation. Even more extreme, some even asked Hong Fu to keep an eye out for some of the more attractive outer disciples. Hong Fu looked at the gifts piled up in the cave dwelling, a sense of unease rising within her.

"Sigh..." Hong Fu sighed softly, placing the white jade on the table. She naturally understood what these people were thinking. Murong Fan's current momentum was such that it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he was the most dazzling rising star in Huangfeng Valley in the last hundred years. The high regard of Patriarch Linghu, his amazing talent in formations, and the practical potential he displayed in his battle against Liu Jing all indicated that this young man's future was limitless. Betrothing him now would undoubtedly pave a broad road for their own family or the sect's future generations.

However, in Hong Fu's heart, Murong Fan was not just a promising disciple, but a child she had carefully nurtured. She had paid special attention to him from the moment he entered Huangfeng Valley, and she had seen and remembered every little detail of his journey from an inconspicuous outer disciple to his remarkable rise to become the focus of the valley.

She still remembered when he first started learning, although he was taciturn, he was exceptionally diligent, and his comprehension of both talismans and formations far surpassed that of his peers. She pitied his unknown background and admired his composure and perseverance, so she imparted all her knowledge to him, even using her savings to obtain cultivation resources for him.

Seeing him so popular and admired within the sect, even considered a potential son-in-law, Hong Fu felt a complex mix of emotions. On one hand, she felt genuinely proud and gratified by Murong Fan's achievements, proving that she hadn't misjudged him and that her efforts hadn't been in vain. The greater recognition Murong Fan received naturally meant access to better platforms and resources for development, which was a good thing.

Of course, she also had some lingering worries. She worried that these successive "romantic encounters" would disturb his mind, causing him to become prematurely entangled in worldly affairs and hindering his cultivation path. Murong Fan was still young, at a crucial time for focusing on cultivation and laying a solid foundation. Wouldn't it be a pity if he were to be entangled by romantic feelings?

Hong Fu was truly dissatisfied with those so-called "candidates." They might each have their merits, but in Hong Fu's eyes, none of them seemed worthy of her exceptionally talented disciple. She always felt that someone like Murong Fan should have a future Daoist partner who possessed great wisdom and perseverance, someone who could walk alongside him and explore the mysteries of immortality together, rather than merely a beautiful or wealthy woman.

"I wonder what Fan'er himself thinks..." Hong Fu murmured to herself. She knew Murong Fan; he seemed gentle, but in reality, he was extremely opinionated, and once he made up his mind, it was difficult for others to sway him. These days, he had politely declined all the explicit and implicit advances, citing his "devotion to the Dao and not considering it for the time being." This put Hong Fu at ease a little, but she also knew that this was not a long-term solution. As Murong Fan's reputation grew, such "matchmaking" attempts would only increase.

However, Hong Fu wasn't entirely without ulterior motives; she also wanted to strongly encourage Murong Fan to be with her daughter, Dong Xuan'er. She knew that Dong Xuan'er's cultivation of the "Spring Transformation Technique" and her naturally alluring physique made her prone to trouble, and that as her cultivation level increased, there was a risk of backlash. She truly needed a cultivation partner with exceptional talent and upright character, and Murong Fan was naturally her ideal choice. Unfortunately, as her master, she was too embarrassed to bring it up. (High-energy chapter 46: Hong Fu's Selfish Motives, Qiao Qian Heartbroken! Updated! Read Now:). Moreover, Dong Xuan'er had previously misunderstood her due to her excessive favoritism towards Murong Fan, leading to a complete falling out between the two. Hong Fu stood before the cave dwelling, her face filled with worry.

Congratulations, Senior Sister, for recognizing such a hero! Murong Fan is now the most valued disciple in the valley. His talent, cultivation, and character are all exceptional. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could become cultivation partners with your daughter, Xuan'er? Looking at Senior Sister Hong Fu, the White Moonlight, with a worried expression, Li Huayuan naturally knew how to please her.

Hong Fu didn't reply immediately, and after a moment she said softly, "The matter of dual cultivation depends on opportunity and fate. As your master and mother, I naturally believe it's the best match, but you must know that I can never bring myself to say it."

"Don't worry, Senior Sister. If it's inconvenient for you to ask, I'm happy to help! I'll do my best to handle this!" Li Huacheng looked at Hong Fu with a smile.

"Be careful with your approach! Don't be forceful, and don't hurt Fan'er." Hong Fu was worried about her shrewd and calculating junior brother who always kept his word.

Hong Fu watched her junior brother depart, her heart filled with mixed emotions. She both longed for Murong Fan to cultivate with Dong Xuan'er, and hoped even more that he wouldn't be confined to Huangfeng Valley—in her view, Murong Fan's future path of cultivation would surely be much broader. At this moment, she was caught in an immense dilemma, torn between her selfish desires for her daughter and the sect, and her grand ambitions for her disciple's future.

She recalled her past when she was young...

Hong Fu stood up, walked to the window, and gazed at the tall, straight pine tree in the courtyard. Murong Fan's residence was not far away; he was probably studying the booklet given to him by Elder Linghu again. A tender light flashed in her eyes, then hardened again. It seemed she couldn't ignore this matter. Perhaps she should find an opportunity to have a proper talk with Murong Fan and understand his true thoughts.

If he truly has someone he loves, and as long as that person is of good character and has decent talent, she might be able to mediate between them; if he truly has no interest in her, then as his master, she must shield him from these disturbances so that he can cultivate in peace and embark on a higher path of immortality as soon as possible.

After all, in Hong Fu's heart, Murong Fan's future was what she valued most for the rest of her life.

When Junior Sister Qiaoqian learned that Murong Fan had become the most sought-after man among the elders and various immortal cultivation families in the valley, her entire demeanor deteriorated. When she learned that her Uncle-Master Li Huayuan was also trying his best to matchmake Dong Xuan'er and Murong Fan, a sense of crisis immediately surged into her heart. At this moment, she felt extremely conflicted: pride, relief, loss, jealousy, and frustration.

"I also come from a family of cultivators. Will Senior Brother Murong choose to become my Daoist partner?" She anxiously asked someone to inquire about the situation from the family elders.

When Qiaoqian learned that Murong Fan and Hongfu had not given a reply, she was both heartbroken and relieved. She was heartbroken because she had fallen for Murong Fan at first sight, but she didn't know what he was thinking. She was relieved because Murong Fan's Daoist heart was firm, and he had not been disturbed by these disturbances, nor had he easily agreed to any marriage proposal.

This sense of relief was like honey laced with bitter medicine, a sweetness mixed with an indescribable bitterness. Standing at the window of her cave dwelling, gazing in the direction of Murong Fan's residence, Qiaoqian reached out, wanting to touch that unattainable light, but her fingertips only touched a cold night breeze.

She recalled her first meeting with Murong Fan, their "friendship" in the Bloodstained Forbidden Land, their discussions on the Dao, and Murong Fan's decisiveness in killing the scheming Lu Yunfeng instead of saving her. Watching him gradually rise to prominence, from obscurity to fame throughout the valley, her joy grew daily, yet that affection remained hidden deep within her heart, never daring to utter a word.

She didn't possess extraordinary talent, only a pure heart that loved him and hoped he would get better and better. But now, even this quiet devotion was shattered by this sudden "matchmaking frenzy."

She was afraid, afraid that one day, a woman who was better than her in every way would stand beside Murong Fan. At that time, even the right for her to look at him from afar would seem to become distant.

Thinking of this, glistening tears finally slipped from the corners of her eyes, dripping onto the windowsill and shattering into tiny water droplets, just like her fragile and wounded heart at that moment. She covered her mouth, trying not to cry out, letting the sorrow engulf her like a tide. The night wind blew by, bringing the faint chirping of insects from afar, but it could not dispel the gloom in her heart.

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