Master, please accept my sword

Cao Xueyan did not yet know the method of sound transmission.

So she could only use her eyes and subtle gestures to tell Xiao Menglan that in her heart, there would always be only her master.

Whether Xiao Menglan understood or not, she did not know.

She could only start by removing the clay seal from the wine jar.

In an instant, the fragrance of the wine spread through the air.

She was the first to breathe it in.

Just one breath made her head feel light and dizzy.

Her cheeks flushed red without her realizing it.

It made her seem all the more delicate and lovely.

“Ha! Just from the scent I can tell—this must be wine brewed by the Sect Master herself!

There’s no mistake about it!”

Qiu Qiandao’s eyes lit up.

His gaze locked onto the jar in Cao Xueyan’s hands.

It was as if he could see the liquid swirling inside.

Although he longed for a drink, he knew the first cup must be poured for the master.

A rule of ceremony that could not be broken.

But as for what might happen to the rest of the wine afterward… that was another matter entirely.

Cao Xueyan gathered her spiritual energy.

She silently recited her breathing method to calm the warmth rising within her.

Her fingers trembled as she poured, carefully filling the jade cup to the brim.

Even so, a few drops spilled out, soaking her sleeve and dripping to the ground.

Qiu Qiandao watched this with visible pain.

His heart twisted as though he were losing something precious.

Yet as an elder, he could not speak out.

He could only maintain a calm façade.

Though his eyes kept darting toward the wasted wine.

Xiao Menglan looked at her disciple’s flustered movements and sighed softly.

She had seen people who couldn’t handle wine before, but never one quite this bad.

Just from the scent alone, the girl’s eyes had already turned hazy, her steps a little unsteady.

Cao Xueyan felt her tongue go numb, a wave of warmth and dizziness spreading through her body.

Knowing her limits, she quickened her pace so as not to embarrass herself before the elders.

She held out the cup with both hands.

“Master above, please accept my… uh… respect!”

Oh no!

She realized her mistake too late.

She had been so careful with her words, and yet still said the wrong one.

“Pfft.”

Xiao Menglan couldn’t help but laugh softly.

The others wisely kept their mouths shut.

Xiao Menglan accepted the cup.

The rim of the jade vessel was still damp, but she didn’t mind.

She lifted it gracefully, first inhaling the rich fragrance, then taking a small sip.

The mellow aroma spread across her tongue.

She savored it for a moment, then swallowed slowly.

Her every movement was elegant, each gesture calm and composed.

Qiu Qiandao nearly wept—not from admiration, but from envy that she was the first to taste it.

Just from the fragrance, it was clear the wine had been sealed for decades.

That first pour from the jar held the richest essence—truly a taste beyond compare.

Xiao Menglan, though rarely drinking, still knew how to appreciate fine wine.

After that first sip, a gentle warmth lingered between her lips and tongue, the aftertaste deep and long.

The Sect Master’s brewing was as exquisite as his swordsmanship—a craft already beyond mortal reach.

She took one more sip, though this time the flavor seemed slightly lighter than before.

When she finished, the final step of the ceremony was complete.

Seeing her disciple’s eyelids drooping and her posture wavering, Xiao Menglan sighed inwardly.

It seemed they should take their leave early.

No matter.

The important part was done.

Leaving now would offend no one.

She could have the other elders handle the sermon later.

“Everyone,” Xiao Menglan said gently, her voice carrying a faint touch of spiritual power, dispelling the last traces of wine.

“My disciple cannot handle wine.

Even the scent alone has made her dizzy.

Please forgive us.

As for the teaching session later, I’ll trouble you all to continue without me.

I’ll take my disciple back first.”

“No problem, no problem—please go ahead, Peak Master Xiao,” Zhao Yunluo said with a smile.

“Leaving already? Don’t forget the wine you promised me!” Qiu Qiandao called out.

Xiao Menglan laughed softly.

“Since Peak Master Qiu cherishes wine so deeply, and today is a joyful occasion, I’ll leave the rest here for everyone to share.”

“Excellent!” someone said.

“Excellent? Ha! You think I’ll share this with you?” Qiu Qiandao immediately retorted.

“Come now, Qiu,” another elder teased, “it’s said: better no wine than wine without friends.

We’re all of the same sect—share a little!”

“Hah! Share with you?

Then give me your disciples in exchange!

Fair trade!”

“Ridiculous!

I’ve trained them for years—how could I hand them over?”

“And I earned this wine fairly—why should I hand it over?”

The elders burst into another lively argument.

Zhao Yunluo, ever patient, stepped in to mediate, smiling as he turned toward Xiao Menglan.

“Don’t mind him, Peak Master Xiao.

He’s always been like this.

Best take your disciple back—she looks ready to fall over.”

Xiao Menglan supported the swaying Cao Xueyan, set down the wine jar, and summoned her flying sword.

With one arm around her disciple’s slender waist, she stepped onto the blade.

A flash of light streaked across the sky, drawing the gazes of countless disciples below.

“Which elder is leaving?”

“Could it be Peak Master Xiao?”

“Ah, what a pity!

I wanted to hear her sermon!”

“She rarely shows herself—miss her once, and you might never get another chance.”

As the disciples sighed in regret, the elders behind them had already begun dividing up the wine and deciding who would give the sermon next.

That person—was Lu Jiansheng.

When he took the stage, his gentle manner and refined appearance made the younger disciples gasp softly.

“Lu Peak Master!

It’s really him!”

“The master of Formation Peak?

He’s even more handsome than I imagined…”

“Quiet!

Don’t say that out loud—if he hears, you’ll regret it!”

Though his frame seemed frail, the aura of a Golden Core cultivator surrounded him—elegant, calm, and untouchable.

The disciples sat cross-legged, ready to listen with full attention.

Meanwhile, behind them, those dignified elders were still bickering over the wine, their words growing louder by the moment.

…

“Were you pretending to be drunk?”

Back at their own peak, Xiao Menglan looked at Cao Xueyan and smiled helplessly.

The girl before her looked perfectly fine—her complexion normal, her breathing even.

“Not exactly,” Cao Xueyan said honestly.

“Elder Qin’s wine really is strong.

It took me some effort to dispel the effects.”

“I can see you’re not good at handling crowds,” Xiao Menglan said with gentle amusement, “but you did well today.”

“Master was the focus of today’s ceremony.

How could I possibly let you be embarrassed?” Cao Xueyan smiled, taking a small step closer.

“There’s no embarrassment to speak of,” Xiao Menglan replied softly.

“From this day forward, you and I are master and disciple—in name and in truth.

If anyone dares to gossip, I’ll deal with them myself.”

Cao Xueyan lifted her gaze.

Because of their difference in height, she had to tilt her head slightly upward, her eyes clear as spring water.

Xiao Menglan felt a warmth in her heart—a quiet affection, mixed with pride.

This disciple… she truly was the one she had waited for.

Cao Xueyan, tired from the long day, let her head rest lightly against her master’s shoulder.

Outside, the wind brushed against the mountain peaks, carrying with it the faint fragrance of wine and clouds.

The ceremony was over.

But between master and disciple, a new bond had quietly taken root.