Zhuo Jingfeng practically vibrated with excitement:
"First comes the root test! Pass that, and the real trials begin!"
He leaned in conspiratorially. "Join Violet Bamboo Peak! We're the strongest! My master's the sect's top sword saint!
Promise you'll pick us, Little Shimei! I'll watch your triumph from the Scrying Mirror!"**
Gu Qingxi:
"顾姑娘" → "Qingxi" → "Little Shimei"
Progress: Lightning speed.
Ah, she realized. His "family" meant sect siblings. Her refusal of bounty money branded her "kind and mighty" in his eyes—prime Violet Bamboo material.
After she shooed him away ("I'll queue alone!"), Zhuo cannonballed into the sky toward the sect's main hall.
"CONFIRMATION TIME," Gu Qingxi demanded mentally. "Your cave-heaven. This mountain. Same place?"
"MY LAIR!" The Patriarch wailed. "Who are these squatters?! How DARE they erect a sect on Ten Thousand Spirits sacred ground?!"
"How long dead?" Her tone frosted over.
"Uh... 7,000 years? 10,000?"
"Expect floral tributes?" She deadpanned. "Your ashes scattered to the four winds millennia ago."
"..." The brutal truth choked him.
"Seals intact? Treasure unfound?"
"Buried fathoms deep! My seals are impenetrable!" Pride resurged.
"Then I'll retrieve them." She joined the applicant queue.
"HOW?! Sneak in? They'll atomize you! Fight? You're Qi Refining Level 1!"
"Join. The. Sect." Each word dripped with how-are-you-this-dense.
Patriarch: ...I feel attacked.
Root Test Station:
The disciple's eyes widened as Gu Qingxi approached. Her?! The legend who survived Zhuo Jingfeng's "Sword of Doom" flight!
Did Senior Brother abandon her here out of pity... or supreme confidence?
Gu Qingxi placed her palm on the Spirit Root Orb—
Azure and crimson light erupted... then clashed like warring serpents.
"Dual roots..." The disciple murmured, pity dawning. "...Water-Fire conflict."
Ah. Now it makes sense. Zhuo's indifference. This girl's cultivation path was a dead end—prone to qi deviation. Still, she qualified for the trials.
He handed her a trial token. "Wait there."
Waiting Area:
Twenty hopefuls fidgeted. Gu Qingxi leaned against a pillar, mentally debating infiltration routes with the sulking Patriarch—
—when honey-glazed nut fragrance hijacked her senses.
A plump girl in brocade silks huddled nearby, sneak-eating amber peanuts from her sleeve. Spotting Gu Qingxi's stare, she offered shyly:
"H-homegrown honey peanuts? Want some?"
"Thanks." Gu Qingxi grabbed a fistful.
The girl stared mutely:
At her near-empty sleeve
At Gu Qingxi casually munching
At a stranger who accepted snacks like they were war rations
Who IS this iron-willed beauty?!