Someone in love?

The more one experiences, the better one becomes at repeating tasks—and the faster time seems to pass when doing so.

Tang Qiaohuan had long since climbed onto Gong Ning’s bed without hesitation and fallen asleep.

Tao Lingling had wanted to stay and cultivate with her Master, but her young body couldn’t withstand too much strain.

By dusk, she had grown drowsy and dozed off at the table.

Gong Ning gently covered her with a light blanket, then closed her eyes once more to meditate.

Thanks to inheriting a high-grade spiritual root from a prestigious family, her talent was decent.

But cultivation required a calm and still mind—a challenge she had once found nearly impossible.

A soul from another world carried far more noise than the people of this era.

Her mind was always cluttered with thoughts, constantly drifting from one idea to another.

She had once been deeply anxious about this.

But in time, experience smoothed everything over, and she had gradually returned to simplicity.

The Su’e Nine Luminaries True Scripture was clearly a crude technique, never refined or optimized by anyone.

Yet Gong Ning felt as if it had been tailor-made for her.

She could clearly engrave the technique into her body.

Her spiritual energy flowed smoothly, without the slightest obstruction.

Though the power was foreign, it felt perfectly natural—like moving her own limbs with perfect control.

When she opened her eyes again, dawn had already broken.

The ship had docked above the Central Land.

She glanced to the side—her disciples were still asleep.

Tang Qiaohuan was sprawled over the edge of her bed, scribbling something on a piece of paper.

Proper writing required good posture.

This was undeniably ungraceful.

“Lingling, we’ve arrived.”

Tao Lingling opened her eyes and saw her Master’s face.

Perhaps waking up to her Master’s visage was the greatest happiness in the world.

After rousing the two girls, Gong Ning changed into a plain set of robes and veiled her face.

“This is your first time taking on a formal mission.

I’ll guide you through the process now.

In the future, you must follow this procedure.”

They had technically completed many commissions before.

But with their Master accompanying them, why not enjoy the ride?

“After accepting a commission from the sect, you must go to the local branch of the Governance Institute to collect the official commission document.

Without it, even if you complete the task, your spiritual merits won’t be recorded.

Many new disciples have fallen for this mistake.

You two go collect the document.

I’ll find an inn and attend to other matters.”

The two girls set off together, heading toward the Governance Institute.

They didn’t seem naturally close—no conversation, no usual intimacy between young girls.

The Central Land was vast.

Among the eleven provinces of Great Yan, this was the most prosperous—richer even than the imperial capital beneath the Emperor’s feet.

Located at the heart of the entire empire, it served as a hub for travelers and trade, a necessary crossroads for movement and wealth.

Gong Ning arrived at an inn dedicated to cultivators.

Upon revealing her identity, she was treated with the highest courtesy.

A century ago, things hadn’t been like this.

Back then, immortals stood high above mortals, as distant as clouds from mud.

An inn for cultivators would have struggled to survive.

Of course, Gong Ning wasn’t here just for lodging.

Her true purpose was to gather intelligence.

“Waiter, do you know of any wealthy families in the Central Land that have recently suffered sudden misfortune?”

The waiter only knew this woman was a senior elder from a major sect.

He usually only saw junior disciples.

Though veiled, her eyes were strikingly captivating—her demeanor gentle and refined, yet carrying an unmistakable air of distance.

“You say that, but the Central Land is so large.

How could a lowly runner like me know such things?”

A lowly runner had his wisdom: hear but don’t speak, listen but don’t remember—avoid getting dragged into trouble.

But this elder was a rare gem.

To end the conversation here felt like a waste…

“Still, there *was* one family…

Though not struck by disaster—more like they vanished overnight.”

Gong Ning listened intently, poured a cup of tea, and slid it toward the waiter.

“Tell me more.”

“You’ll ruin me with such kindness…”

The waiter didn’t dare accept it, but continued:

“There’s a Tao family.

A few months ago, they suddenly shut down their workshops, called back their relatives, and then… disappeared.”

This was significant—especially naming a Tao family.

Gong Ning didn’t offer much reward.

Such a practice might have worked a century ago, but it wasn’t common now.

The waiter wouldn’t accept it anyway.

Instead, she ordered several expensive dishes as compensation.

Her disciple claimed her family had been wiped out.

But here, the story was completely different.

Who should she believe?

Or was the truth deliberately suppressed—kept hidden from ordinary people?

Just then, her disciples returned, commission document in hand.

And with them—an unexpected guest.

Lu Yunling.

The prodigy was somehow here in the Central Land.

She stepped forward and respectfully clasped her hands toward Gong Ning.

“Elder.”

Gong Ning glanced at her disciple and asked, “What’s going on?”

Tao Lingling shot Lu Yunling a sideways glance.

This girl really knows how to pop up everywhere—like a persistent ghost.

“She took the same commission.

We ran into her at the entrance of the Governance Institute.”

That made sense.

Though her disciple had defeated Lu Yunling in the arena, Gong Ning knew the truth—her disciple’s Void Spirit had been the deciding factor.

If that ability became known, her disciple might not have won.

Lu Yunling wasn’t weak.

Staying in Xuantian Sword Sect and quietly cultivating was a waste of her talent.

As a disciple of the Sword-Steering Hut, taking an intelligence-gathering mission was perfectly reasonable.

In truth, this was all Tang Qiaohuan’s doing.

She had already leaked Gong Ning’s movements to Lu Yunling, ensuring the girl arrived early in the Central Land.

Seemingly coincidental—entirely predestined behind the scenes.

“So, you wish to travel together?”

“Yes.”

“Then sit and eat something. Don’t be formal.”

Gong Ning held no ill will toward the girl.

She wouldn’t pass adult conflicts onto a child.

Still, there was something unsettling about the girl’s eyes.

Calm as still water, yet carrying something… indescribable.

Lu Yunling sat down, picked up her chopsticks, and said, “Elder, I am not Master Wang Cheng’s direct disciple.”

At this, Tao Lingling froze.

Tang Qiaohuan was equally stunned.

*Hey, wait—weren’t we all pretending? Why are you exposing this now?*

Only Gong Ning was confused.

She asked, “What do you mean?”

“I am currently not a direct disciple of any elder, nor have I formally sworn to any master.

The Sword-Steering Hut’s master didn’t want to waste my talent, so he exceptionally granted me the Azure Cloud Sword Flight Formula.

Due to Master Wang Cheng’s situation, I’ve been wearing the robes of a direct disciple outwardly.”

Both girls exhaled in relief—then immediately tensed again.

Why say this now?

Was she trying to declare loyalty?

Especially Tao Lingling.

When she first learned Lu Yunling had sworn to another master, she’d felt both anger and relief—fewer competitors.

But this? Clearly, the ambition hadn’t died.

Gong Ning finally understood.

So that’s why she knew those techniques.

But new questions arose.

“Why haven’t you taken a master?

As a direct disciple, your treatment would be vastly different.”

“The master hasn’t wronged me.

He’s given me privileges nearly equal to a direct disciple.

But………… I’ve already set my heart on someone else.”

…Are you serious?

Can you really use “my heart is already set” when talking about *becoming a disciple*?