Chapter 3: Accident

Three quarters of an hour later, the disciple selection ceremony finally concluded.

Shuyue stood abruptly, her skirt tracing a cold arc through the air, leaving behind a curt, icy remark: “The remaining matters are in your hands, Senior Brothers.”

Her spiritual sword hummed beneath her feet, and without looking back, she soared toward the depths of Startled Swan Peak, her departure carrying a hint of escape.

The elders exchanged glances, then burst into laughter.

“Tch, our Misty Moon Junior Sister, still so… untouched by worldly dust,” Elder Yuheng teased, fanning himself.

“Hmph, she sure fled fast. Such fine seedlings, and she didn’t even secure them,” Elder Xuanshi grumbled, still thinking of Chu Yi’s potential for body cultivation.

Elder Qingxu shook his head, his gaze lingering thoughtfully on Startled Swan Peak’s direction: “Junior Sister has her own destined path. Let’s see if that Chu Yi and the little girl can truly catch her eye.”

Meanwhile, the “untouched by worldly dust” Misty Moon Fairy had collapsed unceremoniously onto her cave’s cold jade bed, feeling as if her soul was still drifting outside her body.

“System! System, get out here! The plot’s gone to sh*t, and you’re doing nothing about it?”

She raged impotently at the empty cave, but no system responded.

As a transmigrator reborn into this world, her only cheat was her fragmented memories of the game’s plot—memories that now seemed utterly useless.

The next day, the Affairs Hall sent the new sword attendant, Wanqing, to Startled Swan Peak.

Shuyue had to summon her aloof fairy persona once more, “receiving” her “little trouble”—no, her sword attendant—on the sword plaza lined with snow pines and shrouded in faint, chilly mist.

Wanqing wore the standard light blue robes of an outer sect disciple, slightly oversized, making her slender frame look even more delicate and timid.

She clutched a brand-new sword case tightly, containing an ordinary sword issued by the Affairs Hall for daily maintenance.

Upon seeing Shuyue’s figure appear on the sword plaza, Wanqing’s eyes lit up, and she hurried forward, bowing respectfully, her voice tinged with nervousness: “Disciple Wanqing greets Elder Misty Moon.”

Shuyue gave a faint “Mm,” her gaze sweeping over the sword case, keeping her tone as neutral as possible: “Startled Swan Peak has few rules, only the word ‘silence.’
This is where I practice my sword.
These…”

She gestured to the weapon rack on one side of the plaza, brimming with an array of long and short swords.

“These are my collection. You need not touch them.
Your daily task is to use the sword in your hand to practice basic sword forms and sense the sword’s aura.”

Shuyue had made up her mind: set boundaries for the heroine, keep her distance, and dismiss her with “practice your sword.”

Wanqing listened intently, nodding vigorously: “Yes! This disciple understands!”
She hesitated, then asked softly, “Elder… may I… watch you practice your sword from the side?”

Shuyue: “…”

‘Absolutely not! If you watch too much and gain some insight, how am I supposed to survive?’

After much thought: “…As you wish.”

Fine, let her watch. With Wanqing’s current cultivation, she wouldn’t understand advanced sword techniques anyway.
It’s just… a tiny boost to the heroine’s goodwill, right?

Shuyue casually mentioned some sect matters to her.

And so, Shuyue’s “survival” routine gained a little shadow.

Over the next few days, she discovered Wanqing was genuinely quiet, her presence barely noticeable.

Most of the time, the girl obediently clutched her plain iron sword, practicing basic strikes—slash, thrust, lift, sweep—in a corner of the plaza.
Her movements were clumsy but intensely focused.

Only when Shuyue practiced her sword would Wanqing pause her own training, standing far off, watching unblinkingly.
Her clear eyes reflected the cold gleam of Shuyue’s sword techniques, filled with pure awe and yearning.

Shuyue felt uneasy under her gaze, nearly botching her forms several times.

But oddly, perhaps because Wanqing’s gaze was so pure, devoid of any ulterior motive, Shuyue slowly grew accustomed to it.

Occasionally, after finishing a sword routine, Shuyue would notice Wanqing still standing there, dazed, her cheeks slightly flushed, eyes unfocused, as if lost in the sword’s intent.

“No way, right? I was just practicing casually, and she’s gaining insights? The heroine’s halo is terrifying!”

One day, after half-heartedly completing her sword practice, Shuyue, on a whim, approached Wanqing.

‘Mostly because her staring made me self-conscious, and seeing her work so hard every day, I felt a bit guilty.’

Wanqing snapped out of her daze, standing straight nervously: “El-Elder!”

Shuyue’s gaze fell on the plain iron sword in her hands, its blade already showing signs of wear.

She paused for a moment, then extended a slender finger, tapping the air.

A faint thread of sword intent, infused with the unique chill of Startled Swan Peak, slipped silently into Wanqing’s iron sword like an icy crystal thread.

“This strand of sword intent will help you sense the flow of sword aura and nurture this sword,” Shuyue said flatly, turning to leave as if it were no big deal.

Wanqing froze, staring at the seemingly unchanged iron sword in her hands.

When she gripped the hilt again, she felt a faint, cool aura flowing through the blade, intimately connected to her, sharpening her perception of the sword several times over!

She looked up sharply at Shuyue’s retreating figure, disappearing into the snow pines, her eyes suddenly reddening.

No one… had ever been so kind to her.

Even if it was just a casual strand of sword intent from the elder, to her, it was an unimaginable, precious gift.

“Thank you… thank you, Senior Sister!”
Her voice, choked with emotion, was soft but filled with heartfelt gratitude.

Shuyue’s steps faltered, nearly tripping over herself.

‘Oh no, oh no! I boosted her goodwill again! I didn’t mean to! I just thought her sword looked too worn out!’

She quickened her pace, vanishing in an instant.

Wanqing, clutching the sword now infused with a strand of Misty Moon’s intent, stood rooted to the spot for a long time.
Gratitude, mixed with an indescribable sense of closeness, quietly took root in her heart.

Meanwhile, Chu Yi hadn’t immediately succeeded in joining Startled Swan Peak.

Shuyue employed her “stall” tactic, claiming outwardly that she needed to assess his character.

Chu Yi, surprisingly patient, didn’t press her.
Instead, he settled in as a prospective disciple on a guest peak, training diligently and occasionally “running into” Shuyue to ask about sword techniques.

Though Shuyue always responded with as few words as possible.

She was on high alert around this future male lead, her back prickling with unease at every encounter.

Yet, to Chu Yi, the colder and more reserved Elder Misty Moon was, the more enigmatic and awe-inspiring she seemed.

He even thought her brevity was a test of his perseverance and comprehension!

Shuyue: “…”
‘This has been so exhausting.’

That day, while meditating in her cave to calm her nerves after another nerve-wracking “consultation” with Chu Yi, Shuyue suddenly sensed a faint spiritual fluctuation from the sword plaza, tinged with… panic?

It was Wanqing!