Senior sister, stop working and go home for dinner.

Chapter 407 Qingyang Valley

Qingyang Valley, the miscellaneous service office.

Wei Yiran held the bowl of cooled wild vegetable porridge, sipping it slowly. The corner was dim, and no one noticed her, which pleased her.

It was completely dark outside, and the oil lamps hanging in the wooden shed swayed in the wind.

The servants quickly finished their porridge and retreated to their drafty woodshed; no one wanted to stay in that leaky shed any longer.

Wei Yiran was still in no hurry.

Going back would be cold, just as cold. The walls of the woodshed were made of adobe, and the windows were covered with tattered paper, making a whistling sound when the wind blew at night. The thin quilt had been used for a year and was now as hard as a wooden board, rustling loudly even when you turned over at night.

But it's better than this shed. At least, there aren't those stares.

She lowered her eyes and swallowed the last mouthful of porridge.

"Junior Sister Wei."

A voice came from behind, carrying a hint of cautious warmth.

Wei Yiran paused for a moment.

She turned her head.

A young disciple in a gray robe stood two steps behind her, a forced smile on his face. He carried a lantern, its shawl draped in fine silk, much brighter than the oil lamps in the wooden shed.

"Senior Brother Lin?" Wei Yiran stood up.

Lin Yan was one of the few outer disciples who didn't harbor any ill will towards her. She had been in the valley for four years, reaching the third level of Qi Refining, and was usually in charge of assigning miscellaneous tasks in the servants' quarters, giving her a few easy assignments. But that was all.

Lin Yan took two steps forward, then stopped, as if he didn't know how to start the conversation.

"Is there something you need, Senior Brother Lin?" Wei Yiran asked.

Lin Yan opened his mouth, hesitated, and finally just stepped aside half a step and pointed behind him.

"Junior Sister Wei, someone is looking for you."

Is someone looking for me?

Wei Yiran followed his gaze.

A person was standing at the entrance of the wooden shed.

The man wore a dark blue Taoist robe embroidered with thunder patterns, and a fine jade pendant hung at his waist. He stood with his hands behind his back, his face gaunt, with three long strands of beard on his chin, and his gaze was fixed on Wei Yiran.

Wei Yiran recognized him.

Zhou Su.

The outer sect steward, the "Steward Zhou" who greeted her at the mountain gate a year ago.

Two disciples followed behind Zhou Su, each holding something in their hands, standing respectfully with their heads bowed.

Wei Yiran's eyelashes trembled slightly.

She put the bowl back on the table, straightened her faded dress, walked up to Zhou Su, and curtsied.

"Greetings, Steward Zhou."

Zhou Su looked at her.

His gaze was more complex than it had been a year ago. Back then, he looked at Wei Yiran as if she were a useless object, something to be looked at and then put down. Now…

He recalled the message the Valley Master had just sent: "Transfer her to the inner sect, give her a separate courtyard, and provide her with the monthly allowance of an inner sect disciple."

Inner door.

A dim-witted handyman, who had only been in the valley for a year, was directly transferred from the handyman's quarters to the inner sect.

Zhou Su had spent forty-three years in Qingyang Valley, climbing his way up from a menial servant to a steward. He had seen too much, met too many people, and knew what this decision meant.

He didn't know why the Valley Master suddenly made this decision, but he knew that the fifteen-year-old girl in front of him was no longer the servant who could be ordered around at will.

Zhou Su spoke, his voice much gentler than a year ago, "Pack your things and come with me."

Wei remained motionless.

"Deacon Zhou," she asked, "may I ask what brings you here?"

Zhou Su remained silent for a moment.

"From this day forward," he said, "you will enter the inner gate."

Wei Yiran's eyelashes trembled again.

Just for a moment.

The next moment, she lowered her eyes and slightly bent her knees.

"Thank you, Deacon Zhou."

She didn't ask why, nor did she show any surprise or fear. She simply curtsied, thanked them, and then turned to walk towards the drafty woodshed to pack her meager belongings.

Zhou Su stood there, watching the slender figure disappear into the night. He suddenly remembered a year ago, when he stood at the foot of the mountain gate and said, "There is no spiritual light," the calm eyes of that girl when she looked up at him.

At that time, he felt that those eyes were too calm, so calm that they were somewhat irritating.

Now he knows that it wasn't peaceful.

That's the ability to keep everything inside and not let others see it.

Wei Yiran doesn't have many things.

A few changes of clothes, a thin quilt, and a coarse cloth handkerchief that someone had left in the woodshed and that she had picked up. There was also a jade ring tied with a red string on her wrist, and a letter kept close to her body—her grandfather's family letter, which she had read many times and remembered every word of, but she could never bear to destroy.

She folded her clothes, wrapped them in the coarse cloth, held them in her arms, and walked out of the woodshed.

Zhou Su was still waiting in the same spot.

The things the two disciples behind him were carrying could finally be seen clearly—a brand-new quilt, a set of white inner disciple robes, and an exquisite bronze lamp.

"Put them on," Zhou Su said.

Wei Yiran looked down at the faded dress she was wearing, said nothing, simply took the dress, and turned back to the woodshed.

A moment later, when she came out again, she had changed into that new outfit.

The fabric used by the inner disciple was no ordinary material; it shimmered faintly in the night, making her appear even more radiant. The dress fit perfectly, as if it had been tailor-made to her measurements.

Zhou Su looked at her, a hint of amazement flashing in his eyes, and said, "Let's go."

Wei Yiran followed behind him, heading towards the inner gate.

As she passed the wooden shed, she caught a glimpse of Lin Yan still standing there, his expression unreadable, a mixture of envy and something else. He met Wei Yiran's gaze, paused for a moment, then forced a smile and cupped his hands in a respectful gesture.

Wei Yiran nodded slightly in return, then looked away and continued walking forward.

A night breeze swept in from the mountain valley, carrying the chill of early winter, and gently ruffled her hair. She clutched the bundle in her arms tighter, gazing at the lights gradually coming on ahead.

That was a place she had never set foot in before.

Qingyang Valley, inner gate.

………………

Under the same night sky, eight hundred miles away, lies the Cloud-Hidden Mountain.

The lights were still on in the conference hall on the third floor of the International Hot Spring Hotel.

Qi Lan leaned against the window, gazing at the lights gradually lighting up below the mountain.

At the conference table, Feng Wenzheng, Jiang Yan, Daoist Tianbao, Huiming, and others were still discussing in hushed tones, with several hand-drawn maps spread out in front of them, densely covered with various symbols.

"Qingyang Valley has the largest area," Jiang Yan pointed to the map, "and three spiritual veins converge on its main peak. There's also a small spirit stone mine inside the mountain. The Hehuan Sect is in the southwest valley. It's not a big place, but their herb garden is even more fertile than Qingyang Valley's. They specialize in growing those... those spiritual herbs used for dual cultivation."

This map was obtained using drones that were brought with them at the time.

"The Purple Lightning Sect is in the east," Feng Wenzheng continued, "The sect members are skilled in weapon crafting and control three fine iron ore veins. I've heard they possess a superior magic weapon with a thousand-year history, called the Purple Lightning Hammer, which was left behind by their founding ancestor."

Master Tianbao stroked his beard and chuckled dryly, "No matter how good a magic weapon is, someone has to be able to use it. The sect leader of the Purple Lightning Sect has been stuck at the Golden Core stage for over eighty years, never even touching the threshold of the Nascent Soul stage. And his disciples are all more disappointing than the last."

"Where is the Hehuan Sect?" Qi Lan asked without turning her head.

Jiang Yan's small eyes darted around, and a subtle smile appeared on his chubby face: "That sect leader of the Hehuan Sect is indeed at the early stage of the Nascent Soul realm. However..."

"But what?"

"However, her Nascent Soul was cultivated through sleep," Jiang Yan said in a low voice. "This sect leader cultivates dual cultivation techniques, and it's said that she changed no less than twenty cultivation vessels from the Golden Core stage to the Nascent Soul stage. Now her cultivation is stuck at the early Nascent Soul stage and she can't move forward. All the female disciples in the sect want to follow in her footsteps, and they're fighting fiercely for her."

This information was obtained by their own people from the scattered cultivators within a 30-kilometer radius.

Qi Lan didn't speak, but just stared at the night outside the window.

"Are we really going to fight?" Daoist Tianbao's voice carried a hint of uncertainty. "It's not that I'm cowardly, it's just... those are three sects, with quite a few cultivators combined, and an old monster at the Nascent Soul stage is also in charge. Even if that kid Chen really has a backup plan, how many people will die in this battle?"

"No one will die." Qi Lan finally turned around, her amber vertical pupils gleaming faintly in the light. "He made it very clear, take it."

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