What does the Master’s body taste like?

A magical weapon capable of trading blows with a Golden Core cultivator, even at the cost of one’s own life — this gift was indeed weighty.

Cao Xueyan felt that the sword in her hands, light as nothing, had suddenly become heavy as ten thousand catties.

Did no one see her trembling hands, almost unable to hold it steady?

“Senior Sister,” Xiao Menglan said with a troubled look, “isn’t this gift… a bit too precious?

Yan’er is still only at the Qi Refining stage — this seems a little premature.”

Qin Ximo, of course, didn’t care in the slightest.

She even gave a light snort.

“Let others fuss if they want — but as her master, shouldn’t you care for your disciple’s safety?”

“Besides, this gift isn’t as valuable as you think.

It only cost me a little effort.

Go outside the sect sometime and see what other sects give their personal disciples.

Take the young valley lord of Fengqi Valley, for example — he grew up bathed in the blood essence of phoenixes, wears clothes woven from the feathers shed by their guardian spirit beast, and rides a mount with ancient Vermilion Bird blood.”

“I’ve merely given a sword — what of it?”

Hearing this, Xiao Menglan immediately felt embarrassed.

“Senior Sister is right — I was thoughtless.”

“As long as you know.”

Qin Ximo, having given away her carefully prepared gift, was in excellent spirits.

She turned to Cao Xueyan with a smile.

“My dear niece, do you like the gift I’ve given you?”

Cao Xueyan hurriedly answered, not daring to delay even a breath.

“The gift bestowed by the Sect Master is, of course, wonderful!

This disciple likes it — very much so!”

“That’s better.

Not like these few old men — so stuffy and conservative.

What are magical weapons made for, if not to be used?

This sword has sat unused for ages.

Rather than let it gather dust, why not gift it to my junior’s disciple?

Perhaps it will save her life one day.

That way, its existence won’t have been in vain.”

“Otherwise, letting a treasure like this go unseen by the world would be far too wasteful.”

“What do you all say?”

Qin Ximo cast a sidelong glance at the few elders who had almost spoken earlier.

They stiffened, their hair standing on end, and immediately forced smiles.

“The Sect Master speaks the truth!

It’s we old fools who were too narrow-minded.”

Qin Ximo, lofty as a sect master should be, didn’t hold it against them.

She smiled again and beckoned to Cao Xueyan.

“Come, child.

I’ll teach you the incantation to command this sword.”

Cao Xueyan stepped forward, but Qin Ximo thought she was still too far away.

So she reached out and tugged her sleeve, pulling her even closer.

Cao Xueyan dared not resist and allowed herself to be guided until her head was pressed lightly against the Sect Master’s chest.

Then she felt a warm breath against her ear.

Before she could feel properly embarrassed, a series of obscure, ancient syllables poured into her mind.

The act was far from proper.

Cao Xueyan could practically feel the burning gaze coming from behind her.

But in such a situation, what could she do?

If anyone was to be blamed, it would be Qin Ximo!

And yet — that woman’s cultivation was high, her power unmatched, her status supreme…

Xiao Menglan, seeing another woman so close to her beloved disciple, felt a pang in her heart.

But since the other was her own senior sister, she could not say a word.

Besides, her relationship with Cao Xueyan was ambiguous enough as it was — how could she show open jealousy before everyone?

Once the incantation was taught, Qin Ximo released Cao Xueyan, satisfied.

Seeing the girl’s flushed face, she couldn’t help but find her endearing.

Now she could somewhat understand why Xiao Menglan doted on this disciple so much.

So young, so pure, untouched by the world — unlike other cultivators, who were jaded and self-serving.

Every little gesture of hers carried an innocent charm.

Having such a disciple was like raising a daughter.

And for cultivators who had meditated in solitude for centuries, having such a lively presence around truly brightened the endless years.

Immortality was bitter.

Cultivation was bitter.

In this world governed by heaven’s will and fate, one had to drive oneself relentlessly every moment.

It was exhausting.

“Sect Master,” Cao Xueyan said, the redness fading from her ears as she tried to steady her tone.

“It would have been better if you’d used a secret voice transmission to teach me the incantation.

Just now, if my master were to see… I fear—”

Before she could finish, Qin Ximo burst into laughter.

“You little one — you’ve barely become someone’s disciple, and already you’re siding with your master against me?”

Xiao Menglan tensed immediately.

“Senior Sister, please don’t mind her nonsense!

I’m sure you had your reasons — I won’t question or object!”

“You two are quite the pair,” Qin Ximo chuckled.

“I’ve been in seclusion for so long that I’d almost grown dull.

This bit of liveliness was just what I needed.”

She turned to Cao Xueyan again.

“If I’d used sound transmission to teach you, you’d be standing here muttering for three days and nights before memorizing it.”

“Just now, I used a special spell while speaking into your ear — I’ve engraved the incantation directly into your sea of consciousness.”

“In the future, just recite it during your meditation sessions.

Once you can speak it fluently, the sword will respond as though it were your own arm.”

“Does that explanation satisfy you?”

Only then did Cao Xueyan realize she had misunderstood her.

Indeed, most cultivators followed the Path of Supreme Detachment — to preserve heavenly reason and extinguish human desire.

With such high cultivation, Qin Ximo was certainly one of its paragons.

How could she ever be like Xiao Menglan — a Golden Core cultivator who, when alone with her, was either shamelessly teasing or pretending to be proper, never acting like a senior at all?

See!

This was how a true master should behave!

Cao Xueyan wanted to glance back at Xiao Menglan to make a point — but for the sake of her own future peace, she restrained herself.

If she dared do that, once they returned to Moon-Inviting Palace, she’d surely be punished mercilessly every night before bed!

“All right, that’s enough.

I have other matters to attend to.

The rest, I leave to you.”

With a flick of her sleeve, Qin Ximo transformed into a streak of radiant sword-light that pierced the heavens.

Before anyone could even offer farewell, she was gone.

Such grace and freedom — clearly, she cared little for empty ceremony.

Cao Xueyan tilted her head back until her neck ached, confirming the Sect Master had truly departed.

Such cultivation — truly terrifying!

When would she ever reach such heights?

Would she, like Emperor Liu of old, one day be able to say calmly, “I could take her place”?

Ha!

If she dared to say that aloud, it would be the gravest of blasphemies.

Suddenly, Qiu Qiandao slapped his thigh and shouted, “Ah! Terrible!”

Zhao Yunlu raised a drowsy eyelid.

“Peak Master Qiu, have you forgotten something important to tell the Sect Master?”

“It’s nothing major,” Qiu Qiandao said, his face full of regret.

“We haven’t even drunk the wine of respect for the master yet — how could she leave so soon?”

“You drunkard,” Zhao Yunlu scolded with a laugh.

“What’s that got to do with you?

That wine was for Nephew Cao to offer her master!”

“How’s it not my business?

With the Sect Master gone, where are we supposed to get the wine?

Without the wine, who’s going to preach later?” Qiu Qiandao grumbled.

“I’m not arguing with you, old drunk.

Tea works just as well.

Here, Peak Master Xiao — I’ve kept these tea leaves for many years.

No, no — they’re for Nephew Cao.

Tea brewed personally by the disciple shows sincerity.”

Zhao Yunlu took a delicate jade box from his storage pouch, which must have contained his treasured tea leaves, along with an exquisite tea set of considerable value.

“You old fool! Put those away!” Qiu Qiandao roared.

“Respect wine is respect wine — what’s tea got to do with it?”

“Please, both of you,” Xiao Menglan intervened quickly to ease the tension.

“My disciple’s sincerity is what matters — whether tea or wine makes no difference.

But someone must still open the Dao lecture for the disciples later.

Which of you volunteers?”

As she spoke, Xiao Menglan took out a wine jar — the very one Qin Ximo had gifted when she last visited.

“Him!”

Qiu Qiandao and Zhao Yunlu pointed at each other at once, speaking in unison.

“Then you two can fight it out later,” Xiao Menglan said with a smile.

“For now, let me drink this wine of respect first.”

She drew out a jade cup and placed both it and the wine jar into Cao Xueyan’s hands.

“What are you standing there for?

I’m not one for ceremony — pour me a cup, and that’ll do.”

Cao Xueyan froze, not from hesitation but because Xiao Menglan had just whispered to her through spiritual voice transmission:

“How was the Sect Master’s body… and her scent?”