Chapter 351: When We Thought It Was Just Ordinary

The brilliant, high-hanging sun in the unobservable courtyard began to swiftly drop towards the west. Its intense white light gradually reddened, and soon, the last faint rose-red glow was swallowed by the clouds on the horizon. A profound silence descended. The bright moon did not rise from the east; instead, it hung directly overhead, poised on the central axis of the Taoist temple.

It was as if this moon and the Taoist temple were opposing forces of light and shadow.

The moon was smooth as a mirror, utterly flawless, possessing a serene beauty.

Then, the moon gradually faded, and the sun rose in the east, its light washing over everything like waves, engulfing the sea of clouds, the mountain peaks, and the Taoist temple.

Sunrises and moonsets, a cycle repeating endlessly.

Afterward, the flowers on the large trees within the temple began to wither. The dry heat in the air, after peaking, gradually faded, turning leaves yellow, which then withered and accumulated on the ground.

Half a year passed in the blink of an eye.

Ning Changjiu and the others moved in and out of the temple, living their lives as usual. The world's temporal shifts and changes seemed to have no bearing on them.

"Time truly flies," Zhao Xiang'er remarked, observing the trees as they gradually became bare.

Ning Changjiu nodded in agreement. Autumn arrived in a flash. Unconsciously, when he reflected, time felt like it had passed in an instant, yet also as if he had genuinely experienced half a year. He found it difficult to tell the difference.

Siming cast a sidelong glance at Zhao Xiang'er, scoffing, "A young girl in love, you only understand melancholic feelings about spring and autumn. What do you know about the passage of time?"

Zhao Xiang'er quietly retorted, "And you do?"

Siming stated proudly, "Do you know what my authority entails?"

Zhao Xiang'er smiled faintly, "The authority over time truly suits you, given that you're always occasionally..."

Siming observed the girl's thin lips, curved like a delicate crescent moon, and coldly stated, "Such loose talk. Did your mother never teach you to respect your elders?"

Zhao Xiang'er sat on a wooden chair, gently swinging her legs, and leisurely said, "By seniority, I am the third senior sister, and you are the fourth junior sister. Therefore, I am your elder. Come, little junior sister, pour your senior sister a cup of tea."

"You..." Siming clenched her fists, her gaze icy as she stared at Zhao Xiang'er, declaring, "Don't you dare be so smug!"

Zhao Xiang'er said dismissively, "You, Lord Siming, are truly peculiar. After so many lessons from me, you still haven't learned to curb yourself and dare to talk back. Could it be that you actually enjoy being bullied?"

Siming grew even more irritated. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, exclaiming, "You were clearly the one who played dirty! You and Ning Changjiu are in cahoots, neither of you are good people!"

Initially, Zhao Xiang'er and Siming's skirmishes were indeed evenly matched. However, Zhao Xiang'er soon discovered Siming's most fatal weakness: the slave mark. Seizing this opportunity, Zhao Xiang'er targeted that spot, and within a few rounds, she utterly defeated Siming, who could only protect her vulnerable spot with her hands, not daring to rise. Siming would either bite her lip, reluctantly calling out "Sister Xiang'er" and pleading for mercy, or silently seek refuge behind their senior sister.

Siming secretly vowed in her heart that when she awoke from this dream in the future, she would definitely capture Zhao Xiang'er and exact her revenge.

Zhao Xiang'er also enthusiastically asked Ning Changjiu about the method for creating slave marks. After a long pause for thought, Ning Changjiu replied, "I won't know until I turn eighteen."

Siming brewed chrysanthemum tea. A delicate fragrance wafted from the teapot, smelling rich and complex in the bleak autumn wind.

Ning Changjiu held a broom, sweeping fallen leaves from the ground. He glanced at the young woman and girl seated opposite each other, sipping tea, then looked at Lu Jiajia sitting by the pond. The lotus flowers in the pond had withered, and the lotus leaves, once like canopies against the rain, were now just rows of dry, twisted stalks, distorted in the murky water.

The temple gate remained unopened.

Ning Changjiu swept the fallen leaves aside, wiped away non-existent sweat, then walked over to Lu Jiajia and gently sat down beside her. "What are you thinking about, senior sister?" he asked.

Lu Jiajia stated coolly, "You've been too close to your two junior sisters lately. That's not permitted in the temple. You need to be mindful of that from now on."

Ning Changjiu asked, "And what about being close to you, senior sister?"

Lu Jiajia cast a quick glance at him and replied, "If you're not afraid of a beating, you may come closer."

Ning Changjiu inquired, "Are you always this stern, senior sister?"

Lu Jiajia casually produced a disciplinary ruler, and Ning Changjiu instantly fell silent.

He gently turned his head, picked up a handful of pebbles, and scattered them into the lotus pond. It was as if rain had fallen on the pond, and ripples spread out in layers, colliding with one another.

Ning Changjiu pointed at the pond and said, "Look, we're together."

Lu Jiajia gazed at the pond. In the chaotically shimmering reflections, white and green robes were truly intertwined and entangled. She stared blankly for a moment, then snapped back to reality, gently flicked her sleeve, and the water's surface instantly became calm.

"Stop with those improper thoughts and focus on your studies," Lu Jiajia said, rising to leave.

In recent days, Lu Jiajia had taken on a few moderately difficult talismans, just barely managing to save her "sword seeds" from dipping into negative numbers, though she only had about twenty left. She increasingly regretted the several days she had spent playing games earlier; had she not indulged in that absurd idea, she should have had over fifty sword seeds by now.

Ning Changjiu returned to the stone table, where Zhao Xiang'er and Siming were conversing.

They were discussing the content of their books.

The further they progressed through the scriptures, the more ancient traditions were discussed. Zhao Xiang'er, only half-understanding, sought help from Siming. Siming enjoyed being a teacher, as it was only when she was instructing that she could briefly experience a sense of superiority.

While Siming was imparting knowledge, Zhao Xiang'er remained very polite, yet she persistently referred to Siming as "little sister," which greatly annoyed her.

Before they knew it, snow began to fall from the sky.

Lu Jiajia looked up. She gently reached out, catching the first snowflake of winter. As the heavy snow fell, she watched the flake melt in her palm, her gaze tinged with melancholy. When she subtly turned her head, she found the other three staring at her in unison, as if she were an unparalleled sight.

"I really want to climb a snowy mountain..." Zhao Xiang'er murmured, cupping her face and tilting her head.

"Hmph, what's this? Jealous?" Siming squinted and smiled.

Zhao Xiang'er countered, "Aren't you jealous?"

Siming proudly declared, "I am inherently perfect; neither adding nor subtracting a single bit is possible. Besides, 'three feet of ice is not formed in a single day.' You're dreaming, little girl."

Ning Changjiu even began to recite a poem: "Ten thousand-foot snowy peaks, peerless under heaven, piled high with jade in countless layers..."

"What are you three talking about?" Lu Jiajia asked coldly.

The three of them shook their heads in unison.

In early winter, the four of them, using their free time, set up a brazier in the small pavilion and began to warm wine. The wine's fragrance, akin to osmanthus, wafted gently outwards, mingling with the falling snow. They huddled around the brazier, drinking freely and boasting about past exploits. Only Lu Jiajia remained quiet, cupping her wine glass to warm her hands, listening to their tales, and occasionally offering a faint smile.

With stories as their accompaniment, Lu Jiajia, despite being the senior sister, was the quickest to become intoxicated. A blush bloomed on her soft, beautiful cheeks, and she leaned gently against a red pillar of the pavilion, her draped snow cloak adding to her elegant and noble demeanor.

Zhao Xiang'er also had a low tolerance for alcohol; after just a few cups, her cheeks became flushed and hot. In the past, she could use her spiritual power to dispel the alcohol, but now she had none. She had to endure, untying the string that held her ponytail and letting her dark, long hair fall over her cheeks, concealing her charming and pretty face.

Siming and Ning Changjiu, however, were much more at ease. Siming, with narrowed eyes, continuously offered toasts to Zhao Xiang'er. Zhao Xiang'er, always competitive, didn't want to lose face and so was forced to grit her teeth and drink along with her.

Finally, under Siming's relentless onslaught, Zhao Xiang'er swayed unsteadily and then collapsed drunkenly beside the warm brazier, her face glowing crimson from the firelight.

Amidst the scattered snowflakes, Siming gently turned her head, her exquisite face perfectly framed by a branch of red plum blossoms near the pavilion.

The plum petals were delicate and vivid like blood, matching the color of her exquisite lips. Her pair of icy eyes, in the snowy weather, appeared remarkably clear and bright.

She gazed at Ning Changjiu, softly smiling. "Now it's just us," she murmured.

Ning Changjiu looked at her, an immense tension rising in his heart. "Ju-junior sister, what are you planning?"

Siming gently moved closer to him, her eyes fixed on his. "Shall we do something... interesting together?" she whispered.

"In-interesting things?" Ning Changjiu looked at Siming's eyes, hazy with wine, her exquisite face and flawless figure so close. He glanced at the unconscious Xiang'er and Jiajia, then declared with a resolute heart, "I, I am pure and virtuous..."

Siming chuckled. "What improper thoughts are you entertaining?"

Ning Changjiu paused, taken aback. "What then?"

Siming had Ning Changjiu help Lu Jiajia up. Then, getting up herself, she walked behind Lu Jiajia, snatched the disciplinary ruler, and while Lu Jiajia was still in a drunken sleep, she delivered several sharp smacks to her soft rear. Afterward, she placed the ruler into Zhao Xiang'er's hand and closed her fingers around it.

Siming and Ning Changjiu then pretended to be asleep.

Upon waking and feeling the sting of pain, Lu Jiajia immediately targeted Zhao Xiang'er, who was holding the disciplinary ruler. Zhao Xiang'er, having just woken up, found herself caught in an undeserved calamity. Lu Jiajia grabbed her by the waist and severely punished her, causing her to kick her legs wildly and cry out non-stop.

Siming, who had been feigning sleep, could not hold back and burst into laughter, then shook with uncontrollable mirth.

Lu Jiajia and Zhao Xiang'er, realizing the truth, immediately brought Siming to justice. Ning Changjiu also couldn't escape punishment, being identified as an accomplice. Zhao Xiang'er interrogated Ning Changjiu on behalf of Lu Jiajia, and his confession ignited the collective fury of the three beautiful women. Zhao Xiang'er, in particular, was merciless, beating Ning Changjiu until he cried out for "Sister."

After the beating, Zhao Xiang'er gently rubbed his hand and asked, "Senior brother... did I hurt you?"

Ning Changjiu's heart fluttered. He wondered how Xiang'er had become as gentle as Jiajia. He smiled faintly and said, "No, Xiang'er, don't worry about it."

Zhao Xiang'er's gentle expression instantly turned cold. "No? Then I'll hit you again!"

Lu Jiajia watched the boy and girl chasing each other, rubbing her forehead with a headache. That nap had once again delayed many things; upon waking, she found she had ten fewer sword seeds... It was another day of heart-wrenching pain.

With heavy snow falling, it was no longer suitable for reading outdoors.

The four of them relocated to the Lotus Scripture Pavilion.

Zhao Xiang'er particularly liked this place. She could spend a long time simply gazing at the lotus flower blooming and rotating in the center of the academy.

Siming, being new to the place, lingered there for a long time. Finally, gazing at the flamboyant calligraphy, she praised, "These characters are written with the unrestrained dance of a dragon, grand and powerful; truly remarkable. They must be the work of a master."

Ning Changjiu asked curiously, "You're knowledgeable about magic too?"

Siming replied calmly, "Of course I am. A divine official oversees the world. When it comes to worldly matters, even if not proficient, one at least knows a little."

Ning Changjiu nodded slightly, then heard Siming, with her hands behind her back, continue, "For instance, this character 'zheng' [铮], its power penetrates the paper, evoking the feeling of a renowned sword being drawn, its clang echoing sharply. Even through the paper, it's still breathtaking."

Ning Changjiu fell silent for a moment, then whispered, "Junior Sister Siming..."

"Hm?"

"That character is actually 'jing' [静]..."

Siming stared for a moment, then turned away silently, her face expressionless.

Meanwhile, Lu Jiajia casually opened a wooden cabinet and asked curiously, "What is this?"

The three of them quickly gathered closer.

"Isn't this just ordinary soil? Is there a need to hide it so carefully?" Zhao Xiang'er asked.

Siming, having just revealed her embarrassment, hesitated to say much, only stating, "I believe there's something mysterious about this soil."

Ning Changjiu was also curious, wondering why ordinary soil would be stored within the Lotus Pavilion.

Out of curiosity, Lu Jiajia gently picked up some. The soil, though seemingly loose, was incredibly sticky, with a comfortable yet strange texture. Not only was it odorless, but it also carried a fragrant scent imbued with spiritual energy, as if true spirits of plants had once flourished within it.

"Could this be the legendary 'xi rang,' self-growing soil?" Siming whispered.

"'Xi rang'?" Ning Changjiu was slightly surprised. "Isn't that the soil Goddess Nuwa used to create humans? Does this soil really exist?"

Zhao Xiang'er declared, "It's not the first or second day our fourth junior sister has pretended to know what she doesn't. I don't believe a word she says!"

Ning Changjiu suggested, "Why don't we try it out?"

"Try what?" Zhao Xiang'er and Siming asked in unison.

Ning Changjiu, with a serious expression, said, "Let's create people!"

A moment of silence.

"Is there nothing else in your brain?" Zhao Xiang'er reprimanded, annoyed.

Siming's delicate cheeks also flushed slightly. "How vulgar," she said.

"Huh?" Ning Changjiu didn't even react.

Only Lu Jiajia quietly said, "He meant imitating Goddess Nuwa by molding clay to create people. Is that so hard to understand?"

Zhao Xiang'er and Siming exchanged glances, then each let out a cold snort and looked away.

They both inwardly blamed the other, thinking that their intelligence must have dropped to the same level from arguing with each other for so long. They used to be so exceptionally clever!

"To still believe in such legends, how childish," Zhao Xiang'er stated.

Siming also added, "It's just for fooling children."

With that, the two, unusually united, walked to the table and began to read.

All three of their books were already halfway read.

Outside the Taoist temple, in the Hall of Regulations, a small nine-tailed fox curled up in its soft fur, entering hibernation.

Before they knew it, another spring had arrived.

Heavy cotton coats and cloaks were shed, replaced by light, close-fitting spring garments. The spring light was brilliant and wonderfully pleasant.

After a year of constant rivalry, the relationship between Siming and Zhao Xiang'er gradually thawed like winter snow. However, Lu Jiajia knew well that they were far from truly reconciling.

In spring, the flowers in the temple began to bloom one after another.

Led by Lu Jiajia, the four went together to admire the flowers in the mountains. After passing the pavilion marked with the inscription 'Sitting in Oblivion, Purifying the Heart,' a magnificent sea of flowers spread before their eyes.

Whenever Siming saw the mountains covered in wild blossoms, she would marvel that this place was indeed a dream, where anything could be imagined.

Many of the divine plants and flowers found there were long extinct, and some were even remnants of divine seeds from the Immortal Court. They grew in the wilderness, each thriving by its own power; any single plant, if brought to the human world, would be enough to cause a sensation.

"This is the Climbing Immortal Vine, which should have gone extinct two thousand years ago," Siming said, gently stroking a vine wrapped around a tree, blooming with small white flowers. "The renowned divine weapon, the God-Beating Whip, was crafted from it."

"The God-Beating Whip?" Zhao Xiang'er smiled faintly. "Why are you so interested in these? Could it be that you're hoping to..."

Siming immediately interrupted, "I'm merely well-informed!"

The other three shook their heads in unison, and based on their knowledge of Siming, they all cast peculiar glances at her. Siming snorted coldly and walked ahead alone.

Dahe Town was just ahead.

Lu Jiajia, however, said, "Alright, let's go back and study for now."

Zhao Xiang'er said displeasedly, "We haven't been out to play at all!"

Lu Jiajia replied, "Once you've all finished your studies, passed your tests, and the top three disciples have been chosen, I will take everyone for a spring outing."

Zhao Xiang'er thought for a moment, then extended her palm and said, "It's a deal!"

Lu Jiajia smiled and extended her palm, meeting hers in agreement.

Flowers bloomed and withered, spring turned to autumn, and another year passed in the blink of an eye.

Everyone had only a small portion of their books left to read.

While they read, Lu Jiajia would watch them, simultaneously meditating and practicing her swordplay nearby. Her cultivated sword techniques gradually reached a state of mastery.

Many times, as Lu Jiajia gazed at the courtyard flowers, the sun, or the flowing water of the spring stream, a subtle spiritual insight would flash through her mind, giving her the sensation of being on the verge of a breakthrough. However, her sword heart remained unfulfilled, preventing her from truly grasping that fleeting thought.

By the autumn stream, Zhao Xiang'er, lightly dressed, sat by the bank, swinging her fair legs as usual. Siming knelt behind her, taking out a homemade wooden comb to style the girl's hair.

"Little senior sister, how does this look?" Siming asked with a smile, dividing her long hair into two sections and holding them.

Zhao Xiang'er protested, "No! One ponytail is enough!"

Siming remarked, "If you weren't born so beautiful, you wouldn't resemble a young lady from a noble family in the slightest."

Zhao Xiang'er crossed her arms over her chest and proudly declared, "I am gentle and kind, educated and reasonable, and my martial arts prowess is high. How am I not noble?"

Siming smiled gracefully as she tied Zhao Xiang'er's hair.

Next, Siming sat by the stream, bare-footed, gently dipping her feet in the water. "I truly envy little senior sister," she said.

"What's wrong?" Zhao Xiang'er took the wooden comb, then knelt behind Siming and began to comb her hair.

Siming said, "This autumn stream is both dry and cold, making my toes chilly; it's quite uncomfortable. Sister Xiang'er has it good; since the autumn stream dried up, she can't dip her feet in the water anymore."

Zhao Xiang'er puffed out her cheeks, silently comforting herself by thinking that her legs weren't as long as Siming's, surely just because she was younger.

She styled Siming's hair, then, in retaliation, twisted two puffy bun-like knots on either side of her head.

Siming looked at her reflection in the water and asked doubtfully, "Does this really look good?"

Zhao Xiang'er patted her chest and assured her, "It definitely looks good; this is a hairstyle my mother taught me!"

Siming thought that since it was personally taught by the Vermilion Bird Goddess, it couldn't be bad.

So, enduring the extremely awkward bun hairstyle, she faced the merciless ridicule of Lu Jiajia and Ning Changjiu, especially Ning Changjiu, who laughed unrestrainedly.

She angrily chased after Zhao Xiang'er, seeking justice, but due to her fatal weakness, she couldn't defeat Xiang'er and ended up being held down and bullied once more.

Siming returned to the table alone, undoing the hairstyle Zhao Xiang'er had given her, looking quite wronged.

Ning Changjiu couldn't bear to watch. He gently walked behind her, offered a few soft words of comfort, took the wooden comb, and began to comb her hair for her. This sight did not sit well with Zhao Xiang'er, but since she had been the one to tease Siming, she felt a sense of having brought it upon herself. So, she merely puffed out her cheeks in silent annoyance, said nothing, but instead approached voluntarily, poured Siming some tea, and offered her apologies.

Lu Jiajia watched them with a gentle gaze. Although her sword seeds were almost depleted again, she consistently felt that a day of harmony was drawing near, and then her sword heart would be perfected in sync with everyone's newfound accord.

In the evening, the three moved their books, revealing the chessboard drawn on the stone table beneath.

The chess pieces were pebbles, collected and then polished and carved by Lu Jiajia, who was the only one among them with spiritual power.

The three began to play chess.

At this time, without spiritual power, their calculating ability was naturally much lower. Zhao Xiang'er and Siming were evenly matched opponents, with wins and losses on both sides, while Ning Changjiu's chess skill was notably superior.

But whenever they played chess, Ning Changjiu never dared to speak, knowing that assisting either side would incur the wrath of the other.

He also often lost games intentionally to amuse them.

More often, he accompanied Lu Jiajia under the pretense of practicing sword moves. Lu Jiajia tacitly permitted this, breaking off plum branches to spar with him. Both were familiar with each other's techniques, and their sparring was seamless, giving Zhao Xiang'er and Siming the feeling of watching immortal lovers soaring together, tinged with a slight jealousy.

Zhao Xiang'er and Siming would also occasionally spar. Their matches, however, were far more brutal; often, they would break the plum branches, then obediently lie down, baring their fragrant shoulders and jade backs, allowing Lu Jiajia and Ning Changjiu to apply medicine for them.

Mid-Autumn Festival.

The moon was unprecedentedly large, as if one could reach out and touch its outline.

In Dahe Town, lanterns drifted upwards, soaring into the sky.

At night, the four stood beneath the eaves, admiring the lanterns.

Zhao Xiang'er wasn't tall enough, so Ning Changjiu carried her on his back.

She was initially uncomfortable with the close physical contact, feeling shy, but soon, the myriad of rising lanterns, with their crimson and dazzling beauty, overwhelmed her emotions.

They all looked up in unison, their gazes slowly following the lanterns as they ascended. In their dark pupils, sparks resembled falling rain.

The moon formed such a perfect backdrop.

In the fields, a nine-tailed fox stood by a recently extinguished bonfire, gnawing on a roasted blind-scaled fish from a wooden skewer, while gazing at the lanterns. It was lost in thought for a long time, wishing, "If only Sister Siming, Sister Xiang'er, Master Jiajia, and Senior Brother were all here..."

The lanterns gradually dispersed, leaving only the full moon in the sky, overflowing with silver light.

The jade-like figures stood beneath the moon, their radiance shining brilliantly.

Everyone was joyful and agreed to drink together, but only Lu Jiajia seemed less than pleased.

Ning Changjiu asked her if something was troubling her.

Lu Jiajia looked at them and said seriously, "Zhao Xiang'er! Siming!"

The two beautiful women gently turned their charming faces towards her, asking, "What's wrong, senior sister?"

Lu Jiajia gave a strict order, stating, "I'm giving you three months. You must resolve your differences and live in harmony, understood?"

Listening to her baffling words, the two exchanged glances and both smiled faintly. "We are already good sisters, like siblings!" they replied.

Lu Jiajia snorted coldly. "You can't fool your senior sister!"

If they truly achieved harmony, her hundred sword seeds would finally appear! This was her last hope...

The three, bewildered, went to drink together.

After much drinking, feeling drowsy, the four pulled a large cloak over themselves and fell asleep in an embrace.

Time seemed to be manipulated by human hands, flowing relentlessly. In the blink of an eye, the Mid-Autumn Festival was already a memory from several months past.

The days of breath turning to frost returned. Without the support of spiritual power, Zhao Xiang'er and Siming were both wrapped in cotton clothing, appearing adorably plump.

The three of them read in the Lotus Scripture Pavilion, huddled close together like little squirrels seeking warmth. Only Lu Jiajia, relying on her considerable spiritual power, remained thinly clad in white, her figure graceful and slender, like an ice and snow fairy, instantly outshining them all. Zhao Xiang'er and Siming helplessly rubbed their cold hands together, casting envious glances at Lu Jiajia.

Winter deepened.

One cold, misty morning, Lu Jiajia, with her black hair and white robes, held the disciplinary ruler and arrived as usual to oversee their studies.

It seemed as if the character "Jing" [静] on the Lotus Scripture Pavilion had taken effect; today, the three were remarkably cooperative, all diligently reading in silence.

Lu Jiajia also did not practice her sword, choosing instead to watch them calmly.

After a long while, Ning Changjiu closed his book, shut his eyes, and softly spoke, his voice tinged with melancholy, "I've finished."

The silence was broken.

Lu Jiajia lowered her gaze and hummed softly in acknowledgment.

A moment later, Siming also closed her sword book. She closed her icy eyes and said, "I've finished reading too."

Zhao Xiang'er sat quietly, her body curled up in her snow-white cotton clothing, resembling a snowman. Her gaze lingered on the last page, and she remained motionless for a long time.

Lu Jiajia stood up, walked behind her, gently placed a hand on her shoulder, and, bending slightly, leaned close to the girl's face. "Little Xiang'er, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

Zhao Xiang'er pursed her lips, looking at the last page. She clenched her fingers tightly, and her soft voice held a hint of a sob: "I... I can't bear to finish it."