41 - Crazy! Criticizing the Prime Minister for Being a Servant

Chapter 41: Understanding the Sword No one could resist a pair of eyes like these. Ning Songwu subconsciously raised her hand to touch her own eyes. She found it hard to articulate those words, even impossible. She bit her tongue instinctively and turned her head, not daring to watch the scene before her. From some place deep within, she inexplicably sensed a bittersweet taste of homesickness. Ning Xiujie also noticed that it wasn't just Ning Leyan appearing in the gap today; there was another person. This other person seemed to intentionally avoid her gaze, turning their head away. From her angle, she could only catch a glimpse of a slightly chubby cheek, suggesting the child had been well cared for. A string within her heart was gently plucked. She thought of something, only to immediately dismiss it. Impossible. How could that child still be alive? She had exhausted all her strength to protect and save the child, but before her very eyes, the child had died, placed in a wooden tub, and set adrift into the sea. It shouldn't be. Likely, it's just a new friend Ning Leyan made. Still, who was this friend that Leyan would bring them here? Despite these thoughts, her mind remained distracted. Ning Leyan leapt down first, turning her head, "Come down quickly, the moonlight will be gone soon!" Ning Songwu hurried to follow. As soon as she landed, Ning Leyan had already swiftly approached the bound person and softly said, "Auntie, I made a lot of money this time and bought you some very effective healing salve. Let's try it." Ning Songwu reached into her storage ring, casually grasping a bottle of salve that Qin Siyue had given her, worth hundreds of taels of silver. Ning Xiujie seemed to not yet notice her, her gaze fixed on Ning Leyan, soft and warm, with a hint of a smile. "Leyan, you're really great. But next time, you should learn to save money." Ning Songwu's hand, holding the medicine bottle, lifted then dropped, and her tightly clenched teeth felt a twinge of bitterness. Ning Leyan pouted, "What's the use of me saving money? Auntie doesn't think I'm stupid and teaches me cultivation. All my money is Auntie's." "What did I teach you? These are the cultivation methods from the Nine Provinces. You should thank the people of the Nine Provinces." Ning Xiujie paused for a long breath after finishing this short sentence, sweat forming at her temples. Her body had nearly been pushed to its limit. Ning Leyan, heart aching for her, urged her to stop talking and began applying the salve. From the shadows, a girl spoke, "Use mine, it should be more effective." The person who had been hiding in the shadows after landing now stepped forward, holding a bottle of salve, head lowered. Her high ponytail conveniently cast a shadow over half her face from the direction of the moonlight. She squatted in front of Ning Xiujie, twisted open the salve bottle, and grasped one of her scarred hands, applying the cool ointment gently. She quietly applied the salve, and Ning Leyan put away her own bottle. As for Ning Xiujie, she fell into complete silence, allowing the girl to handle her hands. The silence seemed to grow unbearable, so Ning Songwu started to speak— "This ointment was given by Elder Qin Siyue of the Shangyun Sect. She is my senior martial aunt." "I apprentice under Elder Ran Fanyin, an Ice Spiritual Root, sword cultivator, in my twenties. I currently have a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivation." "Oh, right, Elder He Lan asked me to deliver an apology if I saw you. She said she was deeply sorry and didn't know the person bound by the Spiritual Lock was you. She is truly very sorry." Ning Xiujie shook her head, tears streaming, "It's nothing, it's nothing. Please look up, won't you? Please look up." Ning Songwu had imagined many scenarios for their meeting, even planning numerous conversations in advance to avoid awkward silences. Luckily, she need not have worried; a mother would never let her child feel endlessly awkward. The faint sounds of sobs were response enough. Still, Ning Songwu needed to introduce herself. She took a deep breath, "I'm Ning Songwu, an Ice Spiritual Root. I've been an orphan from childhood, raised near the Shangyun Sect by many households, favored by Fairy Ran, who took me as her direct disciple." "I... I encountered Senior Cheng Yunhuan due to certain circumstances. She told me some things about the outer domains, so... I came." She paused for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry." Ning Xiujie had lost the ability to speak or think, shaking her head, biting her lower lip tightly, stifling any sound, and her hands bound by iron chains trembled as if trying to lift. Ning Songwu quickly said, "Wait a moment." Just as she was about to stand up, her sleeve was tugged. The woman shook her head desperately, "Leave, quickly leave, this is beyond your ability to shake. You must leave." The woman spoke with tears in every word, her trembling hand gripping the sleeve. Ning Songwu smiled gently, "Don't worry, don't worry, I will definitely take you away from here. Besides, it's not just me and my friend. There's someone else waiting for you." She slipped a small space ring off her finger and placed it in Ning Xiujie's hand. Though she said nothing, the woman sensed a significant presence within the ring, a vital person. "Yunhuan, in here?" "Yes, she's waiting for you, so..." "Take her away! I have no spiritual power left, and she's injured too. You... you're just a small Nascent Soul stage cultivator. We have no way, no way at all..." "Leyan, you always listen to Auntie. Take her away, with your..." Ning Xiujie bit her lip, then sighed, "Take her and your cousin away, together, listen." Ning Leyan had somewhat guessed this aloof and cold-looking girl's identity. But hearing her aunt's words still deeply shocked her. The idea of leaving herself was even more shocking. "No, Auntie, if I leave, what about you? You have all these injuries. No, I won't leave. Cousin, I'll take you out." Ning Xiujie crawled a step forward, tugging on the hem of her lowering robe. Her watery autumn eyes, however, fixed on Ning Songwu, said, "Leyan is my older brother's posthumous child. My brother was killed by Ning Yuanyue due to differing political views, leaving only Leyan. Her meridians differ from those of the Ning family, so I taught her the cultivation methods of the Nine Provinces. She has great talent for cultivation. Take her away... Even if she isn't your direct disciple, she can live a different life somewhere else..." Ning Songwu asked, "Do you still remember how to control spiritual power?" Ning Xiujie was slightly stunned. She had been bound for decades. Although she remembered the method to control spiritual power, she hadn't felt any for a long time. Her meridians had withered, her limbs weakened, and the Spiritual Lock was still in place. What did this mean? Ning Songwu continued, "Not only do you need to control it, but you must also disguise it. You must remember your current state and continue to present yourself this way." Ning Xiujie didn't understand what she intended but nodded. Recalling Elder Mao's painstaking instructions on how to begin a spirit replenishing formation, Ning Songwu used her fingers as pens, drawing runes in the air, stepping into complex positions, and pressing them onto talisman papers. The eerie aura brought by the Spiritual Lock didn't change, but the entire formation underwent fundamental changes. "If internal seeking yields nothing, seek externally." "When I grow stronger, I will definitely fight back. Ah, Senior Martial Brother Song Yi, just you wait!!" "So painful, why didn't he warn me about so many small wounds?" "Huh, sword intent can cut the skin without damaging the clothes?" It's smart, actually. The complete saying should be: "Fight a battle, if you win, your identity, I'll keep secret." Just from hearing that she was He Lan Elder's disciple and not from the demon clan, one could deduce her identity wasn't simple and hence request a fight. This person was straightforward, but not stupid at all. Luo Sheng pinched the powerless long sword between two fingers, pushing it aside little by little, and said faintly, "Your sect should stay in Shangyun Sect for a few days. Please go through the proper channels to apply." Jiang Mang said, "I have money, don't know how to apply. Let's fight now." "I'll help you apply, see you the day after tomorrow." After Luo Sheng left, Jiang Mang turned to a relieved Jiang Yue, saying softly, "There, the application is done." Jiang Yue: ...Oh, right, right. * As the competition time drew near, the elders from both sects took their seats on either side as agreed. In the middle was the martial field on the main peak, with disciples who had been pre-selected standing on both sides, ready to take their turn. Ran Fanyin declined an invitation from Tiancen Sect to chat, saying warmly, "I am still unwell and mustn't risk passing my illness to Daoist Mingde." Having said this, Daoist Mingde could not insist. He cupped his hands in salute and let it be. Ran Fanyin found a comfortable corner, while He Lan Mianmian sat beside her, squinting her eyes at Daoist Mingde, who was chatting and laughing with the Sect Master in the distance, feeling very displeased. She transmitted her voice, "That old guy, why talk to you and then go to Cen Ran? Why not talk to the second or the fifth elders?" Ran Fanyin coughed lightly several times, looking at her helplessly, "Why are you becoming more like Ning Ning? In other words, why are you growing more childish?" "Just can't stand him." "Alright, he was talking to me because during the war many years ago, the Sword Immortal was a wandering immortal at that time and helped in a battle at Tiancen Sect. We're old friends. With Cen Ran... Do I need to explain it to you, you unreasonable little cat?" He Lan Mianmian puffed out her nose, snorted lightly, and somehow conjured hot water, handing it to Ran Fanyin. The idle chatter ceased as everyone's attention turned to the training field where the disciples were making their final preparations. This contest employed a relay battle format, with ten participants on each side. The side that lost all its fighters first would be deemed the loser. This was primarily a competition between sword cultivators, with other disciples seated on the stands, watching. There was no need for excessive instructions. After saluting each other, the disciples stood ready with their swords. As the barrier rose, blades clashed and sparks flew. Initially, the battle seesawed back and forth, with the Shangyun Sect gaining the upper hand. By the time three disciples had fought, they had reduced the opposing team to only two members. Until a woman in white, clutching her sword, leaped onto the stage. Without saluting, she coldly announced, "Jiang Mang." "Song Yi, please guide me." As the barrier rose, countless vines sprouted from the gaps in the stage. The water shadow summoned by Song Yi seemed to feed the vines, helping them grow taller and thicker. At this moment, Jiang Mang drew her long sword, the narrow green blade gleaming menacingly among the vines. Jiang Mang launched herself forward, her long sword striking downward, the tip meeting Song Yi's water sword. She twisted her wrist, redirecting the long sword to her side. Song Yi gritted his teeth, reclaiming his sword, barely retreating half a step. The green blade followed closely, aiming for the shoulder of his sword arm. "Elder He Lan" remarked, "So Jiang Mang has a Wood Spiritual Root. Many must have advised her to pursue medicine. It's quite impressive that she's persisted in swordsmanship for so long." He Lan Mianmian propped her face with her hands, "Determined, straightforward, with a strong fighting spirit. Do you think we can drag Ning Ning out from the snow to learn from her?" Ran Fanyin, who had been watching the battle with mild interest, found this amusing. "You go drag her out." "Is that the point, Senior Sister? The point is that Ning Ning is still too gentle in fights, isn't she? Focuses too much on defense, not wanting to hurt anyone. It's worrying." Ran Fanyin tapped her temple, feeling helpless. It's her nature; how can you force her? If Ning Songwu's connection to the formation was indeed as she suspected, then prioritizing defense and avoiding injury might be a rule ingrained in her very soul. What can one do? Her tapping finger froze as cries of surprise arose around her. In the arena, Jiang Mang, with a single-minded sword, pressed Song Yi against the edge. He raised his sword to block the downward force of the green blade, half his body already hanging over the edge. He glanced back, gritted his teeth, and pushed off with one foot, his immense strength causing Jiang Mang to stagger several steps. Before she could react, layers of water shadows formed around him, no longer the gentle mist aiding the vines but sharp enough to inflict small wounds on contact. Jiang Mang, who hadn't spoken since entering, clicked her tongue softly. Vines extended from her hand guard, forming a circle of defense. Then, determinedly, she charged forward, ignoring the countless tiny wounds left by the water, and pierced Song Yi's shoulder, halting his attack. With a light draw of her sword, Jiang Mang coldly said, "It's over." Song Yi cupped his hands, "Your sword heart is determined. I have lost." "Yes, indeed." Jiang Mang left these words, then turned and retreated to the sidelines. "Yes" acknowledged her determined sword heart, and "indeed" confirmed his loss. At the sidelines, even Ran Fanyin couldn't help but smile. What a straightforward child. Yet such a straightforward child indeed deserved the title of a sword prodigy. She fought to the last person standing. As Daoist Mingde's previously strained expression began to ease into a smile, the Shangyun Sect's side could no longer remain so relaxed. After Jiang Mang unexpectedly drew her sword for a backhand stab, the last opponent was forced to the edge of the training field. Just a slight push from Jiang Mang would send them out of bounds. Cen Ran's tightly clenched fists relaxed, knuckles whitening, as she exhaled softly. It's fine. At this point, there's no need to force it. If they lose, so be it. These children simply need more rigorous training. She gently rubbed her thumb ring, already pondering how to approach He Lan Mianmian and enlist the help of those elder demons. Who could have expected that at this critical moment, the cold swordsman suddenly lowered her sword and announced loudly, "I concede." Everyone fell silent for a few seconds. Seeing the frozen smile on Daoist Mingde's face, Cen Ran confirmed she hadn't misheard. She suppressed the corners of her mouth and, with a heavy authority, raised her voice, "Jiang Mang Niece, what happened? Why concede all of a sudden?" 【Oh, how can you hit a girl's face!】 【Isn't this the same ointment from before that was used on Lin Yuxue?】 【Apparently not.】 At that time, Cen Ran and He Lan were making the final preparations and deployments when someone knocked on the door. When they went outside, they found— Jiang Mang had been sent there, unconscious. The person who brought her didn't leave them to guess, having left a letter on Jiang Mang's chest. Folded in odd angles, barely better than a crumpled paper ball, but more or less legible. He Lan Mianmian picked up the letter, her frown deepening as she unfolded it and was almost repelled by the handwriting. It wasn't poor, just too wild, entirely different from her preferred clear and structured script. Cen Ran took the paper and heard He Lan Mianmian muttering, "You should be able to read it. Your handwriting is just as chaotic." No need to say that out loud. Besides, she had been practicing her writing without much progress. What could she do? Just like writing these scripts, she had really tried, but heaven seemed determined not to acknowledge her efforts, repeatedly closing doors on her. What could she do? Cen Ran took a deep breath and looked at the unrestrained letter. The author seemed to be a very lively and endearing girl, her choice of words quite casual— "To the esteemed members of Shangyun Sect, Oh dear, it's been a thousand or two thousand years since I've written something so formal, it's really uncomfortable. Oh well, let's drop the formality. I've brought you this girl, Jiang Mang. You are all smart enough to figure out how to use her, right? (I've heard you've found a way to counteract the source poison, so I just suppressed it a bit. You'll have to do the complete removal yourselves.) But remember to explain things to her properly. This girl has a bit of a self-destructive tendency. Don't let her endanger herself like a pawn. (I got scared when I didn't say anything, and she almost sacrificed herself to me. Too terrifying.) Also, don't worry about Little Ran and that fool. They have things they need to learn. Just go ahead, they'll catch up soon. (No need to stay behind and wait, just go. Trust me, I wouldn't harm them.) Lastly, don't ask why I'm helping you. Unfortunately, you were the only ones with a bit of capability, brains, and luck. Appreciate your ancestors for picking such a strategic location. It will surely protect you all. Finally, please send my regards to Ning Xiujie and Cheng Yunhuan. It's a pity I can't meet them in person for a meal. I really admire them and your silly members. (Really, not through gritted teeth.) Signed—Love you all, your senior." It looked like there was a name initially, but it had been darkly scratched out, leaving only a smudge, reflecting the urgency under which the letter was written, and… He Lan Mianmian pondered for a long time before asking, "Does this seem like someone with an identity similar to Ning Ning? Why does she send regards to Ning Xiujie and Cheng Yunhuan?" Cen Ran shrugged, her face still serious, "I don't know, but we should still thank everyone who's been helping us." "So, we… leave?" Cen Ran solemnly nodded. Just then, the second elder, who had gone to say goodbye to the immortal sect, returned. After exchanging information, he sighed, "I had hoped to stay a few more days, let the children gain more experience." Cen Ran tossed the letter in his arms, half mocking, half cold, "They don't lack that experience. Now is the time for real learning." "Start reinforcing the mountain defense formation now, move the medicine sect to Qingye Peak, and follow the previous plan to go to the eastern coast." Pulling at her sleeve, she chuckled softly, "Since we're playing, let's test how deep this immortal sect runs." In Ran Fanyin's mind, the so-called system continued to obscure the current situation, mentioning that beneath the nine heavens were three thousand minor worlds, and she was currently in one without immortal cultivation. "Right, because there's no cultivation, your spiritual power won't work here~" She was now "transmigrated" into the body of a teacher, surnamed Lin. The system praised her as gentle, graceful, and highly capable. It was near the end of "working hours," and she could tidy up her things and then go out for a stroll. "Not too embarrassing for you, right? You need to play this role well, and then..." Ran Fanyin let out a squeezed laugh, causing the voice in her mind to pause momentarily before it erupted, "Why are you laughing!! Am I funny to you!!" "No, I just wanted to ask, Senior. Do you like that mask?" The "System" stuttered for a moment, seemingly flustered. 「What mask? What are you talking about? I don't know... so you...」 Ran Fanyin steadied her voice and said, “Before we came in here, you mentioned this was an illusion.” Xiao Wancheng was left speechless. She wanted to tease her, but how did she just pierce right through her little game like that? Unbelievable. Directly straightforward just like that person! Boring. So, she said languidly, "Alright, you know everything now. Go have fun, no rush to leave here. The flow of time is different, you'll still have plenty." She was about to leave when Ran Fanyin stopped her, asking, "If I want to leave here, how do I do that?" 「You shout 'System, System, I love you' three times, and I'll let you go.」 Xiao Wancheng suddenly felt a chill down her spine, as if someone was piercing through the endless mist to glare at her, causing her to feel guilty. She quickly added, "Just joking, haha. When you want to leave, just use your spiritual power, and you'll naturally come out. Don't use it now! I can only send you here once, so you should take your time to look around." 「Here, you'll find many answers, so don't rush, don’t rush.」 「Play around for a bit.」 Ran Fanyin: ... Why did she inexplicably feel like she was being teased? Could she really not dismantle this place with force? Although she could summon her spiritual power now and test it out, she restrained the urge. Having come to the world where Ning Songwu once lived, she really wanted to see what it was like and seek the answers mentioned. At the same time, the office door was gently pushed open, and a young girl peeked inside before running up to Ran Fanyin, saying, "Teacher Lin, are you finished for the day?" Ran Fanyin nodded naturally. The young girl before her was Ning Songwu, in her mid-teens, still showing a bit of baby fat, looking somewhat shy and silly with a few exposed teeth. She wore a light blue loose top, exposing her arms. Seeing this, Ran Fanyin raised an eyebrow slightly. What a refreshing top; was this the fashion style of this era? Seeing her nod, Ning Songwu beamed, “Then, it’s Saturday today. Do you have any plans later, Teacher?” 【If yes, it would be too sad, saving up for months only to be given to a bad person.】 【Yes, in the dream, why did that person look so much like me?】 【And last time I dreamed about Ah Sheng, why did she say she would give me one of her tails?】 【...What a great answer.】 【Sin, sin...】 【I want to see, I want to see.】 【But I lost to Senior Brother Song Yi today. In a few days...】 【You’re an omniscient System, why ask me?】 【What’s going on now? Feels like the future’s been messed up by me.】 【...Could you give some useful information? Or tell me, how to cultivate sword intent?】 【! But in the plot, she appeared as a late-stage Deity Transformation. Could she advance from mid to late stage in just five years? That seems tough.】 She drew her final conclusion with dissatisfaction. Ran Fanyin didn’t even turn her head; she knew the little mouth in the void was pouting enough to hang a teapot. When the attendant led the two to their room, closed the door, and left, Ran Fanyin leisurely removed her veiled hat and placed it upon Ning Songwu’s head. Ning Songwu: ...? “Let’s see if your little mouth could make an impression on the veil.” Ran Fanyin chuckled, lightly tapping the child's nose. The woman arched an eyebrow. Was there a problem with that action? Perhaps she hadn’t read enough storybooks; more research was needed. He Lan hadn’t said anything about such actions being problematic. It should not... right? Ran Fanyin fell into self-doubt. Ning Songwu took advantage of the moment to remove the veiled hat and hang it aside. She retrieved a quilt from her storage ring. Turning around, she spread it on the ground. “What are you doing?” Ning Songwu, squatting and laying out the quilt, earnestly replied, “There’s only one bed. Master sleeps on the bed, and I will sleep on this.” Ran Fanyin walked over, intending to pull her arm. But the girl was quick as a flash, wrapping herself in the quilt like a cocoon before she could reach her. With her beautiful eyes curved and lips slightly upturned, Ning Songwu softly said, “Master, rest early.” The woman frowned slightly, “Come up. It’s cold.” Ning Songwu was speechless for a moment, then blinked, “...Master, I’m an Ice Spiritual Root cultivator; I’m not afraid of the cold.” “Besides, wrapped like this, I won’t be cold. Don’t worry, rest early. Didn’t you want to see that so-called Immortal Master? We should set out early tomorrow; we can see him when we come back.” Noticing Ran Fanyin’s slightly surprised expression, Ning Songwu secretly snorted. Ran Fanyin, half-amused, half-annoyed, thought: So, she’s a trickster now, huh? Seeing her not move, Ning Songwu pulled the quilt tighter around herself, silently declaring: I’m sleeping on the floor. Ran Fanyin could say nothing more, shaking her head and yielding to her disciple's insistence. She warmly bid the girl whose eyes alone peeked out, “Goodnight.” Ran Fanyin rarely dreamt, almost never as a child. After her mother passed away, she occasionally dreamt of past events when the longing was too deep. But they were never pleasant dreams. For some reason, today she dreamt of her indifferent mother. The woman, clad in a heavy purple robe, wore a lotus crown and held an ink-black longsword named Night Chill, as aloof as its owner, with a chilling presence. With the most enticing peach blossom eyes that ever existed, her gaze was naturally cold and frosty. Even towards her daughter and adopted daughter, she remained distant, emotionless, and unsmiling. Ran Fanyin's usual dreams were filled with scenes of being drilled in cultivation and sword practice, a revisit to the torments of her past. But this time was different; the scene was new and rarely dreamt of. Following behind her mother into a cave, Ran Fanyin walked along a lightless path until they came upon a stone emitting a ghostly blue glow. Of course she recognized this place, where her mother had spent a lifetime guarding the ancient formation handed down from ages past, called the Absolute Sky Formation. It was within the Shangyun Sect and protected it. There were even rumors that at full power, this formation could protect the entire southeast, not just Shangyun Sect. Now, it fell upon her shoulders to guard it. But why dream of this place? Her mother had never brought her here when she was alive. Before she could ponder more, her dream-mother softly caressed the blue-glowing stone, her voice uncharacteristically warm, gently saying, “I have watched over you for over a thousand years. Now my time is nearly up. I have a request. Will you grant it?” The stone flickered, as if in response. “I still have two daughters in the world. You must protect them more,” her voice trembled as her fingers whitened against the stone’s surface, “Even if I didn't say, you will guard Yin’er, right… but don't only guard her.” Ran Fanyin stood dumbfounded. Her mother had never shared these thoughts with her or with Mianmian. The ghostly blue stone suddenly burst with bright white light, stinging her eyes, causing them to ache. After an indeterminate length of time, the light condensed, slowly forming a snowflake, which then landed gracefully on a silver sword. As the white light receded, a familiar and much more mature face appeared before her eyes. Though more mature, the slight fear on the girl's face was evident. It was a clear and clean sword strike, yet seeing her hesitantly hold back, carefully balancing the snowflake and softly saying, “Master, happy birthday.” “I believe, the intense ice control behind this snowflake is the best birthday gift I can give Master now.” “Is Master happy?” A completely unfamiliar sentiment swept through, knocking on the woman’s heart heavily. Ran Fanyin's eyes snapped open. She instinctively touched her cheek. Cool tear tracks reminded her that what she had dreamt wasn’t mere fantasy. She sat up, dressed, and walked to the window under the dim moonlight, slowly exhaling a breath. Why dream of something she never knew? It seemed to be words left by her mother before passing, addressed to the Absolute Sky Formation, not her. The waning moon hung in the starless sky, casting a cold light through the window into the dimly lit room. Ran Fanyin looked at the girl bathed in ghostly white moonlight, her expression complex. Was that the future, or the past? But that timid, gentle expression made her feel it wasn't her disciple, at least not the one before her now. She recalled the times when her disciple was in trouble; the sudden tightening of her weak heart, the inability to breathe, and the inexplicable connection she sensed, hearing her disciple’s inner thoughts. She had long suspected a deeper connection between them. Combining this with her dream, an ineffable bond grew clearer. ```End Scene```