Separated by just a single wall, the wooden cabin stood quiet.
Luo Qingxian sat cross-legged on the couch with her eyes closed, her expression cold and otherworldly, her immortal aura faint and ethereal as if she were deep in earnest cultivation.
Yet, the smooth, fair arc of her willow brows was slightly furrowed, betraying a heart that was far from tranquil.
Her thoughts had already drifted far away...
A majestic and spiritually vibrant peak rose amid rich spiritual energy and swirling mists, resembling a fairyland among mortals.
The summit pierced straight into the clouds, cutting through a churning sea of clouds that billowed like an illusory, dreamlike wave.
At this moment, two figures—one male, one female—stood atop the peak.
The man was strikingly handsome, possessing an effortless elegance and a gaze so profound it seemed to hold the ambition to encompass the entire universe.
He simply stood with his hands behind his back, yet emanated a presence as towering as heaven and earth.
It felt as though with him around, even if the heavens collapsed and the earth shattered, he could mend it all with a single hand.
The woman carried a cold and peerless demeanor, breathtakingly beautiful. It was none other than Luo Qingxian.
Right now, Luo Qingxian frowned as she looked down at the jade slip in her hand, utterly perplexed.
"Master, what is the meaning of this?"
Inscribed within the jade slip was none other than the Yinyang Creation Formula.
"Though your previous cultivation of the Supreme Profound Heavenly Record allowed your progress to be remarkably swift and suited your Immortal Spirit Sacred Body," the man's voice came through, "it made your temperament grow increasingly cold and reticent toward others."
"The Immortal Spirit Sacred Body is transcendent and refined, drifting like an immortal, but it need not reach such an extreme."
"The Supreme Forgetting of Passions, the Supreme Ruthlessness."
"Yet, can a person truly be ruthless?"
"A martial artist is human, and a Sage is also human—merely someone with greater strength and a higher level of existence."
"If things are allowed to progress this way, once you pass the Nine Tribulations and master the Laws, will you truly become a Sage, or will your very being dissolve into the Dao?"
"That is why your master is having you switch to the Twelve Pure Spirits Formula."
"Though this cultivation method is of a lower grade, it carries no other flaws."
"For you, a lower-grade technique is of little consequence; state of mind and willpower are the true trials along your path of cultivation."
"However, your master also overlooked certain issues."
"The formation of one's disposition is like the growth of a young sapling. If the main trunk is crooked, what use is subsequent pruning?"
Hearing this, Luo Qingxian already understood.
"So Master wishes for me to switch once more, this time to the Yinyang Creation Formula, to experience emotional desire and temper my state of mind through it?"
The man fell silent.
His disciple's train of thought was truly exceptional.
Practicing a dual-cultivation method would undoubtedly stir the emotional desires within one's heart.
Yet as long as one engaged in dual cultivation with a member of the opposite sex, this would pose no problem and instead yield immense benefits.
Judging by his disciple's implication, however, did she intend to practice the dual-cultivation method alone, without actually practicing it with anyone else?
If so, those emotional desires would rage unceasingly, leaving her to endure constant torment.
It would certainly serve to temper one's disposition, at that.
A rather unique train of thought, indeed.
After a long silence, the man nodded and said:
"Last night, there was an anomaly in the heavens. Your master used Tianyan to divine for a long time, yet found no clear answers."
"I merely discovered that a predestined guidance has fallen upon you, seeming to be an opportunity of fate."
"Presumably, you have already sensed it; you may go forth and seek it."
"This disciple understands."
...
Her thoughts retreated from the memory, and Luo Qingxian's gaze turned somewhat vacant for a moment.
The Yinyang Creation Formula, a destined opportunity, Ye Wushuang, the Heaven-Bestowed Divine Body...
At this very moment, how could Luo Qingxian fail to understand what all of this meant?
"The heavenly secrets have been revealed; it is destined by fate."
Such a thought surfaced in Luo Qingxian's mind.
She found it all utterly absurd.
She had always disbelieved in destiny.
As a martial artist, one's path was inherently one of fighting the heavens, fighting the earth, and fighting oneself.
If everything was predestined, why bother setting foot on the path of martial arts in the first place?
Yet, recalling how she had impulsively taken Ye Wushuang as her disciple today, Luo Qingxian fell silent once more.
What of peerless talent?
What of a Heaven-Bestowed Divine Body?
Was that truly the reason she had felt the urge to take a disciple?
Even if her mind had been temporarily unsettled at the time, now that she had long since calmed down, why was there not the slightest trace of regret?
Instead, she remained serene and composed, entirely unbothered.
At this thought, even with Luo Qingxian's state of mind as tranquil as water, a wry smile could not help but touch her lips.
"So be it. Let everything flow naturally..."
...
On the other side.
Ye Wushuang's thoughts gradually recovered from their chaotic state, and he slowly opened his eyes.
When he took in his surroundings, his eyes widened bit by bit.
"This is... the Xuanyuan Sword?!"
In a brilliant, luminous space, Ye Wushuang floated in midair, suspended directly before a golden-yellow longsword.
The sword hovered quietly in the air. One side of its blade was carved with the sun, moon, and stars, while the other depicted mountains, rivers, trees, and grass. The illusory shadow of a dragon coiled around the blade, slowly winding its way along.
Ye Wushuang stared at the golden sword before him, his face a mask of shock and disbelief.
This sword—he knew it far too well!
Wasn't this the little sword he had bought at a street stall for two bucks when he was a kid?!
Every single texture and marking on the blade was intimately familiar and crystal clear; he had played with it for over a dozen years!
There was no way he could be wrong!
When he was young, a certain television drama had been immensely popular. On a whim, he bought this little sword at a street stall for two yuan and arrogantly dubbed it the "Xuanyuan Sword."
He had adored it back then, even going so far as to perform the absurd ritual of "dripping blood to claim ownership."
As he grew a little older and grew embarrassed by his past childishness, the little sword became merely a decorative ornament on his desk.
By the time he went to college, caring less and less about the judgments of others, he had started wearing it around his neck once more.
"Could this... really be some kind of ancient divine artifact?"
Ye Wushuang was left utterly speechless.
He felt a familiar aura radiating from the blade—the exact same one from the beam of light when he transmigrated!
Clearly, this "Xuanyuan Sword" was what had protected his soul and brought him across space to this world.
His mood quickly shifted from shock to excitement.
It was utterly absurd, and a complete cliché.
Yet facts were facts; if not for this sword, he might truly have perished back on Blue Star.
He even suspected this was the reason he possessed the "Heaven-Bestowed Divine Body."
Otherwise, could it really be that his luck was simply off the charts and he possessed the "protagonist aura"?
"Where is this space? Is it inside my mind? Or somewhere within my body?"
Ye Wushuang began to ponder.
"And why, after transmigrating for six years, am I only able to see the Xuanyuan Sword now?"
No one could answer these questions for him.
Ye Wushuang could only rely on his limited knowledge and experience to judge and make a few guesses.
Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck his mind.
"Could it be... because I just came into contact with a cultivation technique and started practicing?"
"With spiritual energy in my body, it must have triggered something, guiding me here!"
Ye Wushuang's expression stirred, feeling that his deduction made complete sense.
"A sword is an instrument of offense and warfare—it should only be used for fighting, right?"
Filled with doubt, Ye Wushuang extended his right hand and slowly gripped the hilt.
There was no rejection, nor any strange phenomena. He simply grasped the Xuanyuan Sword, everything feeling completely natural.
Only the illusory shadow of the dragon appeared all the more lively.
It was impossible to tell whether it was truly alive or some kind of spirit.
"Huh? I can actually use it?"
Ye Wushuang froze for a moment, followed by a surge of wild elation.
Holding the Xuanyuan Sword, he felt as though he wielded the authority to govern all things, sensing a vast and righteous might!
It was a power so immense and irresistible!
It felt as though with a gentle swing of the sword, even the vault of heaven could be cleaved apart!
"Crap! Isn't this total hacking?!"
"Am I going to be directly invincible now?!"