Jiang Ling, as the senior disciple of the Qingyun Sect, naturally accompanied the elders. Jiang Ling was dressed in white, with clear, refined, and cold features, his face like white jade. His thin lips were pressed together, bearing five to six parts of the same demeanor and spirit as Immortal Venerable Xi Yu.
Jiang Ling possessed excellent aptitude, a steady and kind disposition. In the eyes of the elders, he was a genius that could be molded. In the eyes of the disciples, he was a senior disciple worthy of respect and learning.
On the stage below, faces filled with youthful innocence, their eyes held longing and excitement for the future. Each stood perfectly straight, like little white poplars.
After arranging them all, Jiang Ling gave them some instructions.
Suddenly, the Qingyun Sect bell rang five times, its sound clear and melodious.
Five bell tolls signified that the Sect Master had emerged from seclusion!
Master, you've emerged!
The new disciples then watched as their steady, handsome, and composed senior disciple, the Senior Brother, excitedly dropped what he was holding and dashed away.
Before they could even ask, the figure had vanished.
"Did you hear? The Sect Master has emerged from seclusion!"
"Heavens! It's been ten years, the Sect Master has finally come out. Hurry, hurry, let's go take a look!"
The new disciples had long heard of Sect Master Xi Yu's reputation, and they all eagerly followed the crowd.
...
The front hall was not crowded; most people were held back outside.
Shen Yue sat in the main seat, clad in white with raven hair. Her ink-black hair was tied up with a flawless jade crown. Her beautifully pale face was incredibly perfect. Her eyes were covered with a white gauze embroidered with golden patterns. Far from appearing fragile, it made her seem even more aloof and ethereal.
"Senior Brother, did you succeed in breaking through?" Xin Xi asked with concern.
Shen Yue softly hummed in affirmation, adding, "You don't need to worry."
Jiang Ling saw Shen Yue speaking to Elder Ye beside her, her eyes still as cold, her expression as indifferent.
Jiang Ling couldn't help but take a step forward, his voice faltering as he called out, "Master..."
Shen Yue turned her head and nodded gently.
Even though he knew Shen Yue couldn't see, when she turned her head, Jiang Ling still became extremely nervous, fidgeting like a child.
But soon Shen Yue turned her head back, continuing to listen to Elder Ye's conversation.
They were discussing the future development of the Qingyun Sect. Jiang Ling stood beside them, his gaze greedily fixed on Shen Yue.
Shen Yue suddenly asked, "Where is Rong Hua?"
She had been learning about matters concerning the Qingyun Sect since her emergence from seclusion, and only now did she realize she hadn't heard her little disciple calling out.
Elder Ye also reacted. He swept his gaze around and saw the man standing in the corner.
His appearance had changed greatly over the past decade.
He wore the uniform white Daoist robes of the Qingyun Sect. His chiseled, sharp features exuded a cold aura. His eyes were deep and unfathomable. His handsome face was like a painting, yet incomparably sharp.
But his eyes were dark and沉寂, like stagnant water, making him utterly unlikable. Meeting his gaze made one instinctively feel repelled, due to the extreme coldness and lifelessness in his eyes.
If truth be told, Elder Ye found Rong Hua quite disagreeable. His demeanor truly did not resemble that of a person of the righteous path, and his personality was also gloomy.
Now that his Master had emerged from seclusion, and he was hiding in the corner without paying his respects, what kind of behavior was this?
However, he still spoke, "Rong Hua, why aren't you coming over?"
Rong Hua walked over silently, looking at the white-robed immortal before him. A hint of softening appeared in his eyes, but it quickly subsided.
"Master."
A very low male voice, like the resonant vibration at the end of a cello. Perhaps due to speaking rarely, his voice was slightly hoarse, but not unpleasant.
Shen Yue was stunned by his voice, taking a moment to react, "Rong Hua?"
Why had her disciple's voice become so... manly? His voice used to be so cute.
Xin Xi, standing beside Shen Yue, furrowed her beautiful brows, her expression showing undisguised dislike and disgust.
The tall man said expressionlessly, "It's me."
Shen Yue pursed her ruby-red lips, her cool voice softening slightly, "Come to my side."
Rong Hua walked to her side. As Shen Yue was still seated, he appeared somewhat imposing from this angle.
Elder Ye merely frowned and said nothing further.
Rong Hua looked at Shen Yue's approach. His body instinctively stiffened. The scent of familiar, clean fragrance, faint and especially pleasant, lingered in his nostrils.
It was the scent he had longed for.
Rong Hua's eyes deepened slightly. He glanced sideways at the hand resting on his shoulder. It was snow-white and slender, with delicate bones. The veins, like dark green ink, were incredibly prominent, inviting one to lick them.
But she only touched twice before withdrawing her hand.
Shen Yue suddenly felt a touch of melancholy. She had intended to pat the man's head, but her height did not allow for such whims. Just a few years ago, he was a little child, and now he had grown so tall.
"You've grown taller," Shen Yue said softly.
The man hummed in response and said nothing more.
Shen Yue also sensed his distance and coldness. Her delicate brows slightly furrowed, and she sighed inwardly. In the end, she was the one who had wronged him.
After discussing some matters with the elders, Shen Yue led Rong Hua back to the Xin Qing Palace.
Jiang Ling watched Shen Yue depart, feeling a certain envy for Rong Hua. If only he were Master's disciple...
The Xin Qing Palace was as desolate as ever, or perhaps even more silent than before.
Shen Yue walked ahead, with Rong Hua following behind her like a shadow.
"I haven't taught you much. Now, I'll give you this sword." Shen Yue, with her back to him, conjured a sword out of thin air.
Turning around, the sword in her hand was no ordinary weapon. This sword had always been carried by Shen Yue. It was a gift from her own Master, and its power was immeasurable.
The blade was exceedingly thin, weighing next to nothing, emitting a faint cold light. The hilt was embroidered with delicate patterns.
This sword was named Que Hua, and it was an invaluable existence in the cultivation world, extremely precious.
Rong Hua was clearly stunned. He raised his gaze to look at the immortal with white cloth covering her eyes, pursed his lips, and bowed respectfully, accepting it with both hands.
The moment their fingertips touched, Rong Hua felt a slight itch on his fingertip, and his eyes darkened.
"This disciple thanks Master for her great favor," the low male voice, betraying no emotion, said.
Shen Yue was actually still somewhat unaccustomed to it. It felt a bit strange that a cute, crybaby child had suddenly become like this.
Shen Yue touched his forehead with her fingertip, probing his cultivation.
It wasn't particularly good, nor particularly bad; it was just average.
The cool touch made Rong Hua's gaze involuntarily fall upon the person before him.
His handsome thin lips formed a straight line. His unfathomable eyes stared fixedly at the person before him, his gaze sticky and insatiable.