Prologue: A Fated Encounter

Gasp! Gasp! Gasp!

A small boy, his clothes tattered and torn, ran frantically down the street, his face etched with terror.

A tall adult man pursued him from behind.

Passersby on the street paid them no mind, accustomed to such sights.

The boy, resembling a small beggar, had tried to call for help, but most pedestrians merely watched, some even offering knowing smiles after the menacing brute behind them bellowed, “You damn little bastard, if you’ve got the guts, then keep running! Don’t you ever come home again!”

The passersby assumed it was nothing more than a domestic squabble.

However, the panting boy knew all too well that having been an abandoned infant since his transmigration, he had no such thing as ‘home.’

His pleas for help were dismissed by the street’s inhabitants as mere mischief and childish petulance, none of them comprehending the terror and icy dread gripping his heart.

Consequently, he stopped trying to call for assistance, his meager stamina insufficient to sustain frantic running and continuous shouting.

He understood that being caught was only a matter of time, yet he was devoid of any other options.

He had transmigrated to this world six years prior, and if his soul hadn’t been that of an adult rather than a six-year-old child, an orphan as helpless as him would have long since had his limbs broken, eyes gouged out, and tongue severed, forced to beg somewhere, or perhaps already perished in some unknown, damp corner.

The panting breaths and looming shadow behind him drew nearer with each passing second.

The small beggar desperately tried to quicken his pace, but years of malnutrition and the inherent physical disparity between a young child and an adult were not something willpower alone could overcome.

Just before being seized, he seemed to sense something, turning his head back in terror.

His gaze darted to the owner of a nearby pork stall, who stood with arms crossed, watching with a smile.

That burly man ignited a faint spark of hope in the small beggar’s eyes.

Under normal circumstances, he would never have believed that a complete stranger would come to his aid.

Yet, at this moment, he was like a drowning man, desperately struggling to grasp onto anything.

“Help! I don’t know him! Help!”

In the next instant, a hand as large as a cattail leaf fan clamped over his mouth, pulling him abruptly upright.

The small beggar’s childish and hysterical cries made the pork stall owner pause.

He seemed to vaguely perceive that something was amiss.

It was the height of summer; cicadas buzzed relentlessly, the sun beat down fiercely, and streaks of grime mingled with sweat and tears carved dark paths across the small beggar’s face.

Perhaps his struggles and pleas were too pitiful, too moving, for the pork stall owner hesitated before stepping out from behind his stall.

The sweltering heat had left the pork stall owner glistening with a fine sheen of sweat.

“This…” his voice carried a hint of hesitation.

The light in the small beggar’s eyes intensified.

The burly, bare-chested man before him was, at this moment, the only person he could possibly rely on.

“Please excuse us, this little rascal isn’t playing like this for the first time,” the brute, still clutching the small beggar tightly, chuckled apologetically.

He lifted his free hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, adding, “My apologies, we’ve caused you trouble.”

As he spoke, he playfully cursed, giving the small beggar a light, mock-reprimanding tap.

“Damn it, you can really run, you almost ran me to death,” the brute’s rough voice held a note of amusement.

The pork stall owner mistook it for an indulgent laugh.

The small beggar, however, saw it as a cold, mocking sneer.

Despair once again filled his eyes.

His mouth, clamped shut by the dark, rough hand, couldn’t even open to bite.

His struggles seemed laughable and pathetic beneath the brute’s massive frame.

His small, slender hands tried to pry off the brute’s grip, while his two short legs kicked wildly.

It truly looked as though a disobedient child was stubbornly misbehaving.

“Is that so? Hahaha, my own little rascal is just the same.”

The pork stall owner completely fell for the brute’s perfectly practiced words, which he had no doubt uttered countless times, and let out a hearty laugh.

He even walked up to the small beggar and patted his head.

“Little one, you’re so naughty, just look at your clothes!”

“Ah, this little rascal is just like this, very mischievous!”

The brute showed no sign of nervousness at the man’s approach, instead smiling with what appeared to be genuine empathy.

The brute picked up the small beggar, whispering mockingly into his ear, “Clever little thing, aren’t you? Good at running, too.

But what good will it do? Heh heh, once I sell you, your legs will be broken, your eyes gouged out, your tongue cut off…”

“By then, no matter how clever or fast you are, you’ll only be able to beg on the ground like a dog—”

“Or perhaps, you’ll encounter a wealthy lord who fancies scrawny little things like you?”

The brute uttered words designed to shatter the small beggar’s psychological defenses.

The small beggar’s tiny body trembled incessantly, as if he had truly been overwhelmed by fear.

In reality, however, he was still searching for any possible chance of survival.

While fear had indeed spread throughout his entire being, he refused to let it completely consume him, for he knew that if he didn’t resist now, his future would truly unfold exactly as this scoundrel had described.

That was a far greater fear.

For the moment, he used the terror of the future to suppress the fear of the present.

His eyes ceaselessly scoured the street.

Soon, a figure that stood out like a crane among chickens, amidst the common folk dressed in rough cloth, appeared in his line of sight.

A solitary figure.

A back that seemed to stand apart from the world, utterly out of place in the drab surroundings.

The small beggar couldn’t discern the woman’s face clearly, but he was certain she was very beautiful.

He couldn’t tell what material her clothes were made of, but he imagined they must be expensive.

He decided to appeal to her for help.

The white-clad woman seemed to notice them as well, but merely cast a fleeting glance.

Then, just as indifferently, she averted her gaze.

The small beggar was not disheartened, for he realized that the brute’s path would lead them past the white-clad woman.

The brute, sweating profusely, played the part of a father who had finally caught his mischievous child, laughing and scolding as he walked.

One hand held the small beggar in his arms, while the other continuously tapped the boy’s body.

It was a perfectly natural scene.

He made no special effort to avoid anyone, nor did he completely restrain the small beggar’s movements.

If nothing unforeseen happened, the small beggar would simply be abducted in broad daylight.

Yet, it was precisely this ‘naturalness,’ intended to avoid drawing attention, that afforded the small beggar a window of opportunity to act.

The instant they finally passed by the white-clad woman, a whirlwind of thoughts suddenly spun through the small beggar’s mind.

He hesitated, wondering whether to draw her attention.

Would dragging her into this simply create another victim?

But he quickly realized that the brute couldn’t possibly use the same method to abduct a woman in broad daylight.

Moreover, this woman, who clearly stood out from everyone else, was undoubtedly no ordinary person.

As they passed, the serene woman’s eyes, calm as a lake, seemed to flick a glance at the small beggar.

Without further hesitation, the small beggar gritted his teeth and steeled his resolve.

His tiny palm shot up, delivering a resounding slap to the prominent chest of the white-clad woman.

A crisp sound echoed.

A dark, grimy handprint was left on the front of her robe.

The air itself seemed to fall silent.

The serene woman stared coldly at the small beggar.

The small beggar finally saw her face clearly.

Just as he had initially thought, she was a very beautiful woman.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, combining both his past and present lives.

She possessed a classical, elegant beauty.

Her cool, proud, and somewhat detached demeanor resembled that of a noble young lady from a prestigious family.

Yet, the hint of heroism between her brows suggested a female knight-errant who had journeyed through the martial world for some time.

Fearing that she might dismiss him because he was just a child, the small beggar hastily acted.

Before the brute could react, he quickly extended his ‘puppy paw’ and slapped her again.

This second slap made the woman’s expression falter.

When she had first noticed the commotion, she had already suspected that this grimy small beggar might have been abducted.

That was why she had silently slowed her pace, waiting for the brute to pass by.

Her attention and vigilance had been entirely focused on the tall, strapping brute.

She had absolutely not anticipated that this little thing would dare to reach out to her.

And then dare to do it a second time.

“If you cannot raise a child properly, then allow me to do so,” the woman said coldly.

With a metallic clang, a long sword, emanating a faint chill, instantly materialized across the brute’s neck.

“F-forgive me! Immortal Maiden, this little rascal of mine—”

“Put him down.

I want to hear him apologize in person,” the woman said indifferently.

If he truly was an abducted child, she could commend him for his cleverness and quick thinking.

But if he wasn’t…

Then her words about personally disciplining him were no idle threat.

“This… my unruly son is likely to offend the Immortal Maiden…”

Sweat beaded on the brute’s forehead, though it was unclear if it was from the heat or from fear.

“I will not say it a second time.”

The woman observed that there was no trace of fear or guilt in the small beggar’s eyes, only relief and wild joy.

This further solidified her suspicions.

The brute had no choice but to release the small beggar, shooting him a venomous glare.

“Don’t you dare speak nonsense!”

He threatened in a low, menacing tone.

But the small beggar’s very first words upon regaining his freedom were: “I don’t know him! Immortal Sister, save me!”

As he spoke, he dropped to his knees, kowtowing repeatedly.

“I am just a small beggar in the city, without parents since birth.

If I lie, may I be struck by five bolts of lightning!

Immortal Sister, I apologize, but in this urgent situation, I had no other choice!

Please forgive my impudence and offense!”

“This person must be a child trafficker.

He just used words like ‘little rascal’ to trick away someone who wanted to help me.”

“If you don’t believe me, ask him if he knows my name!”

The small beggar spoke rapidly while continuing to kowtow.

This speech had been rehearsed numerous times in his mind.

All so that it would spill forth without the slightest hesitation at this crucial moment.

Watching the small beggar, who ceaselessly kowtowed until his forehead bled, the serene Immortal Maiden’s expression remained unchanged.

She simply stood, sword in hand, observing.

After the small beggar had no further words, the serene woman indifferently turned her gaze to the brute, who stood there as if plunged into an ice cellar.

“And you, do you have anything to say?”

The brute never imagined this little rascal would be so troublesome.

Not only had he found an opportunity to escape, but he had also blocked any way for him to twist the facts.

How could he possibly know the small beggar’s name?

“Th-this…” the brute stammered, tongue-tied.

The brute was completely flustered.

He could have easily made up a name, but the oppressive aura emanating from the woman holding the long sword was simply too immense.

He dared not lie in front of a living immortal cultivator.

So he dropped to his knees, begging for mercy repeatedly, “I’m sorry! Forgive me, Immortal Maiden! Please spare me!”

“Little ghost,” the serene woman said coldly.

The ‘little ghost’ himself was still kowtowing.

Though his consciousness was beginning to blur, he knew that even if he gave himself a concussion today, he couldn’t let himself be abducted.

The serene woman’s delicate brows furrowed slightly.

“May your heart be clear as a mirror, and your spirit platform bright,” she uttered softly, forming a hand seal.

The small beggar immediately felt as though he had snapped awake.

He stopped kowtowing, looking up at the serene, beautiful sister, momentarily lost in a daze.

“How do you wish to deal with this person?”

Her cherry-red lips parted softly.

“I… I think, send him to the authorities?” the small beggar replied hesitantly.

“To the authorities?”

The serene woman’s expression remained unperturbed.

“Do you not wish to kill him?”

“I… never mind.”

“Why?” the serene woman asked again, her tone still indifferent.

“I don’t believe whether a person deserves to die should be decided by me,” the small beggar said, his expression still a little dazed.

“Even if you are the victim?”

“Mmm…”

The serene woman’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“Very well, as you wish, we shall send him to the authorities.”

Her voice was melodious, like crystalline ice gently clinking together.

The small beggar looked at the unknown Immortal Maiden, who was smiling for some reason, and nodded with a hint of fear.

After all, he still didn’t know if this seemingly beautiful Immortal Maiden was truly a good person.

As an utterly ordinary mortal, it was already a miracle he had survived this long, let alone facing a cultivator like her.

Especially after she had asked, ‘Do you wish to kill him?’ his fear intensified.

Even a mortal’s life shouldn’t be treated so casually, he thought…

The daze of narrowly escaping death and the words and actions of the serene Immortal Maiden who had just saved him kept the small beggar engrossed in thought.

It wasn’t until after seeing the authorities, and watching the abductor shackled and imprisoned, that he truly awoke as if from a dream.

Only then did he realize that she had been holding his hand the entire time.

He timidly withdrew his grimy hand.

He saw that a faint smudge of dirt had been left on her jade-like, pristine hand.

“Th-thank you…”

The serene woman seemed somewhat displeased by the small beggar’s attitude.

“Are you afraid of me?”

The small beggar instinctively nodded at first, then frantically shook his head.

He was annoyed that this overly young body always seemed to falter in the most inexplicable ways.

“I didn’t, I’m not… I…”

As he spoke, tears welled up uncontrollably in his eyes.

He felt utterly ashamed, but the more he wiped, the more tears flowed.

“Why are you afraid of me? Because you touched me?”

The serene woman gently furrowed her brow.

“I won’t be angry about that; you were saving your own life, it’s understandable.”

“I… I’m afraid… because you spoke of killing so casually just now…” the small beggar said, shrinking back.

“Hmm?”

The serene woman paused, then a faint smile flickered in her eyes.

“Even if you had wanted to kill him, I wouldn’t have made a move.

It was merely a test for you.”

‘Besides the Party and the people, who has the right to test me?’

The small beggar almost blurted it out.

“Oh…” Driven by his survival instinct, he managed to hold his tongue.

“Then… why did you want to test me?”

“Hmm… because I wish to take on a disciple,” she said, the coolness on her face slowly melting away.

A somewhat warm smile bloomed on her exquisite face.

“Me?” The small beggar pointed a tiny index finger at himself.

“Who else?”

“Th-that would be my honor… but can I cultivate immortality?”

“Everyone can cultivate immortality; the only difference is in speed.

Besides, what if you can’t?

At worst, you’ll serve tea and water, wash clothes and fold quilts, and your master will protect you for life.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then… does formally becoming a disciple require… some complicated rituals?”

“Others might, but not with your master.”

“Oh, then… do I need to kneel and kowtow?”

“Haven’t you kowtowed enough just now?”

“That… does that count?”

“Why wouldn’t it count? Call me Master.”

“Ma-Master…”

“You said you had a name earlier.

What is it?”

“To answer Master, my name is Gu Bei.”

“Hmm, your master’s name is Mu Qingsi.”

“Master’s name is truly beautiful, just like you.”

“Smooth-tongued.”

“Master, why would you take me as your disciple?”

“I simply had a sudden inclination; it seems we are fated.

And since your master intervened to save you, I naturally wouldn’t abandon you to your helpless state.”

As she spoke, her slender, jade-like hand took the small beggar’s, pulling him onto the long sword.

The long sword soared away.

Their voices and figures gradually faded into the distance.