Chapter 14: Xu Yourong
(The storyline is fine, everything is under control, but the text felt a bit off, not very smooth. I spent last night revising and improved it somewhat. If you need to, you can re-read the two chapters from yesterday to see if they flow much better now. The part about the eleven-year-old coming to the crane in the previous chapter isn’t a bug, but compared to the prologue, it’s indeed easy to misunderstand. After thinking it over, I decided not to change it and to stick with the original outline. I’ve also uploaded a tutorial about recommendation votes in the book review section; those unfamiliar can take a look. Also, I’m not putting these words in the author’s notes to make them more noticeable. Additionally, I love Chen Changsheng, but I also love Xu Yourong—it’s just that they don’t love each other.
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In the current world, the state religion inherits the grace of the Heavenly Book, unifying all faith under heaven. Because the Heavenly Book Mausoleum is in the capital, the religious seat is naturally also in the capital. Before the Great Zhou, the popes were all merchants. When the Shang fell and the Zhou rose, every pope had to be a Zhou native. The Central Plains dynasty, founded in the capital, was already powerful, and with the support of the state religion, it naturally became the center of the human world.
Compared to the former Great Shang and the subsequent Great Zhou, the southern forces in the Central Continent were numerous, with various states and sects each ruling their own domains, relatively loose in structure. Yet the number of powerful individuals was not small, and they even seemed to surpass the Great Zhou. Among them, the Nanxi Zhai of Saintess Peak, the Changsheng Sect, and the Qiushan Family were the most formidable.
After the brutal war between humans and demons ended, the southern forces, which had also made great sacrifices, naturally wanted to gain their rightful status. They believed that the Heavenly Book Mausoleum should be a sacred relic shared by all of humanity, not monopolized by the Zhou Kingdom. Similarly, the right to interpret the Heavenly Book should not be controlled solely by the orthodox state religion represented by the pope.
To this end, the southern forces engaged in relentless struggles with three successive Zhou emperors over the procedures and even the name of the Grand Examination. They also split within the state religion to form the Southern Sect—still part of the orthodox state religion, but recognizing the pope only as a spiritual leader, with practical affairs managed by the Saintess.
The Saintesses of the Southern Sect were naturally supreme experts of extraordinary realms. However, each successive Saintess had to balance the many competing forces in the south without a strong army as backing, so their actual power and status were inferior to the northern pope’s. Yet they remained the most revered figures in the south, on par with the pope in spiritual authority, their status comparable.
Due to the special position of the Southern Sect’s Saintess, every Saintess throughout history had been a woman from the south, with no exceptions for thousands of years—until the present, when an exception might finally occur.
Every Southern Sect Saintess had come from Nanxi Zhai, which is why the mountain peak where this ancient sect had been passed down for countless years was called Saintess Peak. And now, Nanxi Zhai had only one disciple.
That young girl was named Xu Yourong, the reincarnation of the Heavenly Phoenix’s true form. Her talent in cultivation was unmatched in the world, and she was well-versed in the true essence of the Daoist canon. At twelve, she first visited Saintess Peak and could already decipher the true script of the Heavenly Book. The elders of Saintess Peak were astounded, considering her a divine being. In the end, disregarding the fact that she was a Zhou native, they announced to the world that they would accept her as Nanxi Zhai’s sole inner-sect female disciple. This meant that, barring any accidents, this girl named Xu Yourong would become the next Southern Sect Saintess, a religious leader who would stand as an equal to the northern pope!
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The night was deep, the stars filled the sky, seeming never to move, yet shifting every moment. Their solemn beauty was intoxicating to the point of heart-pounding. The night peak, shrouded in faint mist, was utterly silent. Suddenly, a clear crane call broke through the clouds, and moments later, a white crane descended from the night sky.
Under the starlight, the white crane seemed unreal, as if made of paper, without a trace of dirt. The crane’s cry echoed across the empty, secluded cliff, piercing the clouds and shaking the mist as it flew. Perhaps it was simply that time had come, for the night gradually receded. A sliver of white appeared on the eastern horizon, and morning light abruptly arrived in the world.
The girl sitting at the cliff’s edge untied a brocade pouch from the white crane, took out a letter, casually opened it, and read it calmly. As she read, her finely drawn brows occasionally lifted, but most of the time she remained serene. Her eyes, reflecting the faint morning light, were as bright as a lake, and her beautiful brows still held a trace of youthful innocence, but no confusion.
The morning light grew stronger. The south was heavy with moisture, so the mist thickened. The light, dispersed by the damp air, fell on her face, becoming softer. Her features didn’t become clearer, but they grew more beautiful, and in that beauty, there was even a hint of something sacred.
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“That guy is really strange. He keeps saying he’s here to break off the engagement, but for some inexplicable reason, he doesn’t. I have no idea what game he’s playing. At first, I thought he was just saying that to save face, but thinking back, it’s not that—because when he said those things, he was very calm, without any anger.”
“Granny watched him for a few days. I heard that guy gets up at exactly five in the morning every day, does everything meticulously, like a wooden puppet, and he’s a clean freak. It reminds me of those sinister and twisted people you once told me about, Miss, and it’s a bit chilling. Well, Miss, I have to admit, that guy isn’t bad-looking. When I talked to him, I actually found him likable, easy to get close to—but that’s even scarier. That was my first time seeing him, wasn’t it?”
“About the engagement, that guy probably hasn’t mentioned it to anyone. I can’t tell if he’s smart or stupid, but anyway, the family has been keeping an eye on him. Miss, I always feel that guy is very hypocritical, with deep schemes and many plots. Judging by recent events, if he keeps pestering like this, the master and mistress might take some action.”
“Miss, even though I don’t think that guy deserves to die, when I think of him flaunting the marriage contract and looking down on the mansion with that smug, unafraid attitude, I find him utterly detestable. And... I heard the Qiushan Family will come to the capital next year to propose marriage. What if that scoundrel causes trouble then?”
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The girl sat at the cliff’s edge, quietly reading the letter. The garment draped over her shoulders fluttered lightly in the morning breeze, and her jet-black hair drifted like silk, brushing past her profile, adding a touch of sternness to her pleasing, youthful beauty.
After finishing the letter, she was silent for a moment, then murmured to herself, “So he really came to the capital?”
While she read, the white crane had been waiting quietly nearby. Even crouching, it was half as tall as a person. When she folded the letter, the crane turned and, from somewhere, brought a brush. The tip was dipped in rich, non-dripping ink, which gave off a faint fragrance—its origin unknown.
The girl smiled, reached out to stroke the crane’s smooth, slender neck, and took the brush to reply, but for a moment, she didn’t know what to write.
She had been close to her grandfather since childhood. If he hadn’t passed away, she might not have left the capital at twelve to seek the Dao at Nanxi Zhai. Even this white crane beside her was a gift from her grandfather. If it were any other matter her grandfather had entrusted to her, she would certainly comply, but... the engagement was definitely out of the question.
She recalled that little Daoist from Xining Town—his surname was Chen, wasn’t it?
She furrowed her brows slightly, trying to remember the things she’d heard as a child, and realized she really had no impression of that little Daoist.
She remembered that the marriage contract had been specially endorsed by the current pope at her grandfather’s request, allowing only the male party to break it off. Then, recalling what Shuang’er had said in the letter, she raised her brows slightly and thought silently, Is that little Daoist really so hypocritical and shameless? She didn’t remember him being like that when she was young.
She knew that many people in the capital, including her father, hoped she would represent the Great Zhou in a marriage alliance with the south. They would never allow that little Daoist surnamed Chen to interfere with all this, and might even kill him. Thinking of this, she found that little Daoist truly foolish and idiotic. Did he really think his petty cleverness and cunning could get him greater benefits from the Divine General’s Mansion?
At this thought, she felt displeased—a rare emotion for her. She didn’t know if it was because that little Daoist didn’t know how to cherish or protect himself, or because... that little Daoist was truly annoying. Well, no matter what that little Daoist had become, the engagement definitely had to be broken off.
But... don’t harm him.
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With a clear cry, the white crane, carrying the two letters she had written, pierced through the clouds and flew away, accompanied by the morning breeze and bathed in morning light, heading toward the distant capital.
The girl placed the ink brush in a puddle among the rocks to soak, stood up, draped her cotton robe over her shoulders, and walked to the cliff’s edge, hands clasped behind her back.
Her brows and eyes were still clear and youthful, but her bearing was extraordinary. This wasn’t like Chen Changsheng, who possessed a maturity and calmness beyond his years, but rather a quality called grandeur. This petite girl, standing at the cliff’s edge in the morning breeze, gave the impression of a mountain standing firm or a peak towering still.
“Mountain standing firm, peak towering still” was usually used to describe grandmaster-level figures who had lived for centuries.
She was only fourteen, but she already deserved those four words.
The morning breeze continued to blow, stirring the robe on her shoulders and the black hair falling from them. The strands brushed across her youthful, beautiful face, bringing a faint smile.
In just five breaths, she had forgotten the earlier letter, forgotten all external concerns, leaving only tranquility, and so she smiled.
She smiled in the spring breeze, and all the wildflowers on the mountain bloomed.
Countless rare birds flew in, their clear calls unending, and even three blue phoenixes could be seen.
A hundred birds paid homage.
She was the unique young phoenix of the human world.
She was the next Southern Sect Saintess.
She was number one on the Azure Cloud Ranking.
She was Xu Yourong.
She was still innocent, but that innocence wasn’t playfulness—it was purity.
Her smile was radiant, but that radiance wasn’t emotion—it was spring light.
She didn’t want to care about the people and affairs of the world. What the world thought was connected to her was actually unrelated—like that engagement she was almost forgetting, and even Qiushan Jun.
She admitted that Senior Brother Qiushan Jun was very powerful, even perfect, the best partner in everyone’s eyes, but what did that have to do with her?
Those were all very good, very fine, but not what she wanted.
Of course, that little Daoist wasn’t what she wanted either.
What she needed to do now was just face the cliff, enjoy the snow, listen to the rain, gather herbs, read books, read books, and keep reading books.
Within books lay the Great Dao; one volume surpassed countless loves and passions.
Her heart was set solely on the Dao—who could shake her resolve?
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Chen Changsheng left the inn and headed toward the second-to-last academy on the list his master had given him.
He was very curious about what tricks Miss Xu would use today to make him fail.
Of course, even if he failed again, he wouldn’t waver.
What he had done since childhood was guard the temple, sweep the snow, shelter from the rain, take medicine, read books, read books, and read books again and again.
Within books lay the Great Dao; one volume surpassed a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers.
His heart was set solely on seeking the Dao—who could stop his steps?