Chapter 26: Drinking in the Spring Breeze Once More
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Cloud Drift Peak.
Library Pavilion.
Standing atop the steps, Jiang Min gazed up at the towering plaque above the pavilion, a wave of emotion surging in her heart.
From now on, she could enter here freely.
She ascended the steps and stepped through the grand doors. Not having changed out of her gray servant’s robe yet, the disciple on duty behind the desk recognized her and hurriedly called out, apologetically, “Sister Jiang, servants aren’t allowed inside.”
Jiang Min smiled and handed him a jade token symbolizing her status as an outer disciple. “Brother Lan, here’s my identity token. I’m here to find Uncle Chen or Uncle Sun, who are on duty today, to handle the transfer of duties.”
Brother Lan took the token and immediately understood. He returned it with an enthusiastic smile. “Congratulations, Sister Jiang! Truly, congratulations.”
“Uncle Chen and Uncle Sun are tidying the library on the third floor. Go find them there.”
“Thank you, Brother Lan.”
Jiang Min thanked him, then circled to the staircase and climbed to the third floor. There, she saw Uncle Chen Yan, whose hair was snowy white, and a somewhat gaunt middle-aged uncle, both sorting boxes of books. The middle-aged uncle was Sun Xingyun, one of the library’s stewards, known for his stern and taciturn demeanor.
“Uncle Chen, Uncle Sun.”
Jiang Min bowed to them, making no effort to conceal her cultivation.
Sun Xingyun was the first to pause, setting down the yellowed tome in his hands. He exclaimed in surprise, “You’ve reached the fourth layer of Qi refining?”
In the Eastern Spirit Sect, it had been many years since a servant had advanced to outer disciple.
“Uncle Sun, I’ve come precisely to see you and Uncle Chen, to hand over my servant duties.”
Sun Xingyun stood, disbelief evident in his voice. “How did you manage it?”
“Brother Sun,” Chen Yan interjected, stopping his line of questioning, “Personal fortune is not to be pried into. That is sect rule. Have you forgotten?”
“I’m just curious, nothing more,” Sun Xingyun quickly reined in his expression, then addressed Jiang Min in a low voice, “There’s nothing to hand over. We’re aware of the matter. Go pack your things.”
“Yes, Uncle Sun, Uncle Chen. I’ll take my leave.”
Jiang Min bowed again, preparing to depart.
“Go on, congratulations,” Chen Yan smiled at her.
That little girl who refused to be weak had finally set foot on the path to greatness.
After Jiang Min left, Sun Xingyun frowned. “Sister Chen, her cultivation speed is clearly unusual. To reach the fourth layer at her age—if she had three or two spiritual roots, that would be normal.”
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He seemed conflicted, his curiosity about Jiang Min’s fortune evident.
Chen Yan, seeing this, put down her book and pressed, “Have you forgotten Xiao Runan?”
At that name, Sun Xingyun exhaled heavily and sat down again. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Chen Yan spoke earnestly, “Back when I taught in the Hall of Transmission, Xiao Runan was a servant there. He didn’t awaken his spiritual aperture for three years, but once he did, he built his foundation in a thousand days, astounding the entire sect.”
“No one questioned how he achieved this with five spiritual roots. There was only envy and congratulations. Now, he serves as an inner disciple under the True Lord of Sword Tomb. Still young, already mid-foundation stage. One day, he may even reach the golden core.”
Her tone softened. “Your fixation now is meaningless. Let it go.”
Sun Xingyun murmured assent, continuing to organize the ancient books from the box, though his expression remained somber, hiding an endless sorrow.
Jiang Min returned to her courtyard and entered her room.
It was the place she’d lived for years, every inch intimately familiar. On the floor, the ink markings of the twenty-eight constellations had faded and grown mottled.
On the windowsill sat a small plant, thriving in the sunlight, vibrant and green.
Jiang Min packed her belongings into her spatial pouch, picked up the flowerpot, and said excitedly, “A-Ling, come, we’re going to our new home.”
The little grass gently swayed its leaves, clearly delighted.
After years together, it had long forgotten its old grievance of “house confiscation,” well-nourished under Jiang Min’s care.
As Jiang Min stepped out of her room, she paused.
Zhao Ji and the others stood before her door, amidst the heavy snowfall.
“Congratulations,” Zhao Ji was the first to smile.
Then Qin Gengyun clasped his hands, his honest smile unchanged over the years. “Sister Jiang, congratulations, congratulations. If you ever prosper, don’t forget us.”
Zhong Qu’s temples bore a touch of white—whether from age or snow, it was hard to say. He looked reluctant to part, opened his mouth, and stammered, “Take good care of yourself. If possible… come back to visit often.”
Jiang Min was moved, setting down the flowerpot and clasping her hands. “Brother Zhao, Brother Zhong, Brother Qin, I, Jiang Min, have received your kindness and care, and dare not forget it. Please accept my bow.”
She bowed deeply.
Zhao Ji had watched over her, Zhong Qu had helped her, Qin Gengyun had guided her. Without their support, she would never have come this far.
A grudge for broken teeth must be repaid with a head.
A kindness as small as a drop of water, repaid with a spring.
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Jiang Min had always been clear in love and hate.
The others were astonished, rushing forward to lift her up. Jiang Min looked at them and smiled. “I live at Peach Blossom Slope now. If any brothers are in need, come find me. If there’s good wine and food, let’s gather again and drink in the spring breeze.”
“Good.”
They smiled in relief as well, the heavy snow burying all sorrow and joy.
After bidding farewell, Jiang Min went to the marketplace to purchase some sundries, then headed for the outer disciples’ residences.
Outer disciples mainly lived in a vast area of mountains east of the sect, and the place assigned to Jiang Min was called Peach Blossom Slope. Now, it was clothed in silver, a blanket of white. It was said that come spring, the hills would be covered in peach blossoms.
“South Slope, Ji-Mao Courtyard—this must be it.”
Jiang Min searched her way there, finding a neglected courtyard with a wooden sign at the entrance carved with the characters Ji-Mao, confirming she’d found the right place.
She pushed open the wooden fence and entered, surveying the grounds with delight. “This courtyard is so spacious! I can plant spiritual grain here, spiritual vegetables and fruits over there, and some medicinal herbs here. No need to spend spirit stones anymore.”
The little grass in her arms swayed its leaves—here, the spiritual energy was much richer than at Cloud Drift Peak, making it feel comfortable.
Once Jiang Min familiarized herself with her new surroundings, she set the flowerpot down and got to work—cleaning the rooms, clearing away debris, arranging tables, chairs, and bedding. It wasn’t until a thread of dusky twilight fell across the window that Jiang Min finished tidying her new home and stepped outside. The snow had stopped.
She occasionally saw disciples in green robes returning to their own courtyards. Jiang Min thought, as a newcomer, she ought to visit her neighbors.
She acted at once, bringing newly bought spiritual tea and fruit, and headed to the neighboring courtyard.
The courtyard next door was exquisitely arranged: spiritual flowers and grasses, a pond and rock garden, and two white foxes frolicking among the blooms. As Jiang Min approached the fence, she sensed a faint ripple of spiritual energy, and then encountered a sturdy barrier—clearly a defensive ward set up by the owner.
Such arrangements must have cost many spirit stones! She looked on with envy and called out warmly:
“The new disciple of Ji-Mao Courtyard has come to pay respects—sorry to intrude.”
After a moment, a voice came from within, belonging to a man. “A new disciple? But this isn’t the time for recruitment.”
Jiang Min hurried to explain, “Greetings, brother. I was a servant, just promoted to outer disciple, so I’m moving in now.”
“Oh, understood.”
The voice inside suddenly turned cold.
After that, there was no further reply.