Chapter 20: You Are My Servant First

The following day, Zora’s life continued in its routine: the Bamboo Resonance Courtyard, Skysea Peak, and the training ground.

The road to immortality is a long one, and the gap between the gifted and the mediocre begins to widen infinitely from the very start. On the day she entered the Qi Condensation stage, Zora didn't feel anything particularly special—at most, her mind felt clearer and more refreshed.

Then, the outer gate seniors she sparred with suddenly turned into weak, low-level mobs that she could knock down in a few moves. Spiritual Qi swirled within her body, and once released, it became spiritual power. Spiritual power also varies between being impure and pure, depending entirely on the individual.

Smack!

On the training ground, an outer gate disciple’s wooden sword was flicked away, his wrist suddenly losing all strength. Over the past few days, he had come to fully understand the cultivation speed of an inner gate disciple. He said with a bitter smile, "I lose."

The sword aimed at his chest stopped abruptly, inches away. A tiny ripple of air stirred, and the thin spiritual power suddenly dissipated.

Zora hesitated for a few heartbeats, not quite understanding why this person had surrendered so easily. Losing a sword seemed like losing his life to him; he didn't struggle at all. She withdrew her wooden sword.

In the distance, Zhang Mo happened to be knocked to the ground. He struggled to his feet, propping himself up and brushing the dust off his drab clothes. If a few days ago he still felt bubbles of envy popping in his heart, now there was only calm. When the gap is this large, one cannot even manage to be envious.

Ding Wanren gave Zhang Mo a few more instructions. "Your talent is ranked even within the Sword Gate; there is no need to give up on yourself."

Zhang Mo perked up. "Yes!"

Ding Wanren then walked over to Zora, who was continuing her horse stance, hands behind his back. He scrutinized the sword at her back. "What is the name of this sword?"

Zora: "River Snow."

Ding Wanren: "No snow on the river, yet it speaks of snow. Your future sword intent will be related to yourself and the blade. Does it have a sword spirit?"

"No."

The elderly man’s wrinkled face finally revealed a slight smile. "No sword spirit makes the early stages difficult. But with a sword spirit, it is hard for man and blade to become one; both have their own fates. Do not be discouraged."

After all, many sword cultivators lose heart or lack confidence if they don't obtain a famous sword with a spirit, making it difficult to forge a sword soul. How difficult it is to forge a sword spirit from scratch—most people believe it is simpler to possess one from the start and then slowly tame it.

Zora: "?" She wasn't discouraged.

The girl’s expression was flat, even carrying a hint of a question, which firmly radiated the meaning of "What are you talking about?"

Ding Wanren’s smile froze. "Mhm?"

Zora: "I don't like sword spirits."

As soon as she said this, Zhang Mo’s sword moved first, vibrating incessantly within its scabbard in great dissatisfaction. It wasn't just angry at being insulted; it shared a history with Zora back in the secret realm. Perhaps it had also hoped that the sword of its previous master's best friend would be brought out just like it was.

Zhang Mo immediately unfastened the sword to coax it, speaking in gentle whispers, comforting and persuading it over and over. Only when the sword quieted down did he return it to its place, stealing a cautious glance at Zora.

Zora withdrew her gaze and said calmly, "They are very annoying."

The sword: "!" Zhang Mo:

AAAAAHHHHH!!

The man and his sword began another one-sided dialogue.

Ding Wanren: "..."

It seems so... Wait, no.

Ding Wanren was almost led astray. "If a sword spirit chooses you, your temperaments should be able to harmonize successfully."

Zora: "Harmonize into what?"

Ding Wanren: "Harmonize into a friend who fights by your side."

"..." Zora stopped looking at him.

After practice ended, the dull thuds and screams from the other side of the woods could be heard. Vane had long been able to suppress them. In a single day, he had returned all the injuries from the past twenty days, leaving the ground littered with disciples who couldn't get up. One person could still stand but didn't dare to; because once he stood up, Vane would take it as a sign he could still fight, and the spear would come lunging toward his face.

The man lay on the ground, his terrified pupils trembling slightly. Others didn't know, but those who fought the youth face-to-face knew perfectly well: the boy took pleasure in the fight itself. When an opponent couldn't take it and wanted to surrender, Vane would skillfully interrupt with a few moves; his storm-like offensive made it impossible for them to even open their mouths.

The man truly thought he was going to be killed. The feeling was so intense—the overwhelming scent of blood mixed with iron scorched the heart, making him lie on the ground shivering uncontrollably, tears and snot flowing as he swallowed his screams.

The youth had a smile hanging from the corner of his mouth, his brow relaxed, even carrying a hint of casual malice. The tip of the ordinary spear was bloodstained; the flecks of fresh red made the white surface of the spearhead appear even more silvery.

The instructor gave a few awkward laughs, praised him a bit, and then hurriedly departed.

Vane looked at the sky and put down the ordinary spear. Initially, when he struck back, his heart hammered like thunder; he was so excited his blood felt like it was flowing backward, his whole body restless. But he couldn't fully let go; he couldn't break their limbs or let their blood spray. The internal injuries and intense pain he specifically inflicted were merely small comforts.

Gradually, his mood stabilized, and eventually, a hint of irritability surfaced.

Then it was back on the crane. The next morning, he would wake up early, go to Zora’s residence, wake her up, and comb her hair. She didn't take off many clothes when she slept, only her outer layer. Vane suspected she was afraid of the cold; she used a blanket of the same thickness as his and wrapped herself tightly within it.

The sound of Vane pushing the door open was her alarm clock. Zora would linger for a while before struggling to rise and sit at the dressing table. During that gap, Vane would first fold the dried laundry and put it in the wardrobe, then tidy the messy bedding—every time he saw the bed, he knew exactly where she had crawled out from; the quilts would be hunched up, leaving a hole that still held some warmth.

Vane’s lashes fluttered as he stepped behind her after tidying up. Who knows how he learned it, but Vane’s hair-braiding skills had improved by leaps and bounds. He had a new style every few days, until finally Zora settled on a few of the most convenient ones, which slowly became his standard.

The people in the Bamboo Resonance Courtyard had long been discreetly discussing what their relationship was. Could they be a betrothed couple? But the girl truly didn't act like someone in love.

Only Yiling Ke would pass by airily, saying casually, "Maybe they are master and servant."

Someone gasped in shock: "How is that possible!? Junior Brother Vane has a limitless future and staggering talent. How could he be willing to be a servant? Besides, who brings a servant when entering a sect?"

"Exactly. Moreover, Junior Brother Vane doesn't look like a servant. In just one month, his aura has grown increasingly sharp," the person said admiringly. "He is sure to become a titan in the future."

Someone else muttered resentfully, "People said the same thing about Senior Sister Turi back then, and look how she turned out to have no talent for the sword..."

"..."

Seeing they didn't believe her, Yiling Ke shook her head and walked away with a meaningful smile.

Heh, naive. I didn't even say who was the master and who was the servant, and you've already made your assumptions. You do have your doubts, don't you?

She walked further away and sat back in her seat, a silent hero hiding her deeds.

On the final day at the training ground, as Zora rode her white crane back, she happened to encounter Song Zhihuai flying on his sword. His brows were sharp, he was nearing manhood, his posture was graceful, and his sleeves fluttered in the wind.

Zora looked at him. So, he looked back at Zora.

"..." "..."

Song Zhihuai waited for a moment before realizing she was waiting for him to speak. He said in a stiff tone, "Junior Sister Zora."

In the eyes of ordinary people, the Path of Heartlessness was usually a symbol of being as cold as frost—even if the person hadn't yet entered the Dao.

Zora nodded casually, recalled his name, and said, "Senior Brother Song."

"..." "..."

In the suffocating silence, Song Zhihuai’s expression grew even colder and stiffer. For some reason, the sword beneath his feet didn't speed ahead, remaining parallel with her.

Zora stared at him. Song Zhihuai, who had looked away, discreetly glanced at her for an instant before immediately turning back to look straight ahead. Zora continued to stare. She just found it novel to have someone flying on a sword beside her and didn't care if he spoke or not. If he wanted to leave, he could just fly away.

"..." Song Zhihuai glanced again, found she was still watching, and helplessly pursed his lips as he turned his head. Then he glanced back once more, cold as frost.

After a long silence, he acted like someone searching for a topic and was forced to speak: "This month, Junior Sister Zora must have learned a lot. Tomorrow, you will surely take a fine Immortal as your master." His tone was calm, filled with the mature air of a senior.

"Mhm," she paused. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"..." "..."

Song Zhihuai’s jawline was tensed tight. Soon they reached Zora’s residence. She waved: "Goodbye, Senior Brother Song."

Song Zhihuai’s pursed lips relaxed. Though his face was still cold, his aura seemed a bit softer. "Goodbye, Junior Sister Zora."

The white crane let out a cry and changed direction, flying downward. Song Zhihuai watched her land, then abruptly accelerated his sword, entering the mountain where his master resided.

Song Zhihuai walked quickly into the hall. Inside, a person in green robes was fiddling with a Go board—ethereal and transcendent. His eyes were light in color; in them, one seemed to see ten thousand miles of flat plains or a vast ocean, as if they could contain all things, yet also as if nothing were worth his notice. It wasn't indifference, but a kind of composure that transcended the mortal world.

"Master," Song Zhihuai saluted.

Si Shaoyu lifted his eyes to look at him. As master and disciple for many years, as well as father and son, he could easily see the countless ripples beneath Song Zhihuai’s cold exterior. Si Shaoyu slowly placed a black stone. "What happened?"

Song Zhihuai’s face was solemn. "Today, a junior sister spoke to me."

"...And?"

"I encouraged her."

Si Shaoyu considered the game board. "Continue."

"Aside from Master, this is the first time in an entire month I have had a conversation with someone else." A hint of joy actually jumped in the boy's cold eyes.

"...Mhm."

Returning to silence, Song Zhihuai seemed to be savoring the feeling of the conversation, uncontrollably refining the dialogue in his head.

Mhm, after that sentence, he should have said this instead of that.

"..." Si Shaoyu didn't believe for a second that his son could actually hold a conversation. It was probably a stiff exchange of sentences that made the other person sit on pins and needles. But as a kind master and a benevolent father, he asked symbolically, "She didn't draw her sword or flee on the spot?"

"No. Junior Sister Zora is kind-hearted, warm, and polite." Song Zhihuai savored it again. "We spoke our minds freely and had a most interesting chat. If the journey hadn't been so short, we might already be friends who go to the dining hall together."

Si Shaoyu’s lip twitched. This disciple of his had excitedly claimed to have become best friends with another disciple last time, which turned out to be him standing next to the person every day waiting for them to speak. His aura was so cold he had terrified the other person into offering a few hollow compliments. After a few exchanges, Song Zhihuai thought they had become friends and even went around asking for the person's birthday to send a gift—which included a handwritten letter. The disciple thought it was a declaration of war and hurried to Si Shaoyu to kowtow and beg for mercy.

That day, Si Shaoyu had dismissed the person with a sigh and turned to see his disciple squatting in the corner like a dejected mushroom. "..."

Zhihuai, you’re not just bad with words; you’re blind.

The Heartless Immortal refused to admit he had laughed out loud in amusement at the time.

Finishing his recollection, he composed his expression and said to Song Zhihuai: "Who was it?"

"It was Junior Sister Zora."

The Zora who had caused a stir recently? Si Shaoyu was satisfied. "Not bad. When she grows powerful in the future, she won't be intimidated by you. If she wants to hit you, she’ll dare to hit you directly, so you don't end up blind and making a fool of yourself."

Song Zhihuai: "..." He looked dazed. "Making a fool of myself... but weren't we chatting quite happily?"

Si Shaoyu waved his sleeve, not caring to say more. "Dismissed."

"..."

The next day, the three returned to the spot where they had exited the Voidwave Realm. Zora looked from afar at the elders sitting high on the platform.

An elder spoke: "Zhang Mo, was it? Are you willing to join my lineage?"

The extremely nervous Zhang Mo froze, his face blank for a moment, then he was overjoyed. He had thought that with the 'pearls' in front of him, no one would notice him. Although there were two Dual-Element Roots, Zhang Mo’s talent was still of mid-tier quality in the cultivation world, and the elders wouldn't ignore him.

Next was the apprenticeship for the remaining two. When it was Vane’s turn, the elders remained silent; Zora realized they had already decided on him among themselves.

Sure enough, a lazy man stood up. His clothes and belt were not tidy, his dark-patterned silk robes were luxurious and elegant, and a translucent green jade pendant hung at his waist. His phoenix eyes were narrowed, his red lips curled slightly—he looked less like an immortal and more like a lazy, pampered noble from the mortal world.

Jin Chuyang smiled: "The boy with the spear shall join my lineage. It’s been decades since I took a disciple."

The elders were silent. This was because Jin Chuyang’s previous disciple had sacrificed himself in the war against the Demon Realm.

Vane didn't change his expression and saluted immediately: "Disciple Vane greets Master."

Zora looked at him, suspecting that Vane simply didn't know Jin Chuyang’s name and so just called him Master directly.

"Good, good. Then as for the remaining one—" an elder cut in, his intention obvious.

The others looked resentful, but before a debate could break out, a woman's voice rang out. "I find this girl suits my eye."

Everyone looked over; it was Zhou Shijin. She hadn't been drinking today. In her sober state, the corners of her eyes were upturned, and her gaze was nonchalant yet held a hidden sharpness. She smiled at the other elders: "Besides, my life is truly too short. I was unable to sleep last night, thinking a thousand thoughts, and I still want to find someone to pass on my life's work to."

Regardless of the mockery in her eyes, on the surface she appeared sincere and earnest.

The elders were choked up. "..."

If you want to find someone, find someone, but why pick a Dual-Element Root!

However, some were thin-skinned and were instantly manipulated by her. They felt that if they tried to snatch the disciple now, they would be acting immorally and bullying the weak. For a moment, they looked at each other, and no one objected.

Zhou Shijin raised her hands in a salute, her eyes narrowing with a smile. "Thank you."

She turned to the girl. "Are you willing?"

Zora nodded indifferently, paused, imitated Vane’s movements, and also said the words to greet her master.

"..." Vane discreetly glanced at her.

Every word was identical, every movement unchanged.

And so, everyone headed back to their new homes to find their respective masters. First, they had to return to their old quarters to pack.

Zhou Shijin came to her side. Her frame was slender, making her look like a solitary piece of bamboo, isolated from her surroundings. Zhou Shijin looked down at the girl’s still-youthful face and smiled: "Once you have packed, crush this talisman. I will come to fetch you and take you to the Fallen Stone Forest."

Zora took it and put it in her storage bag—during this month, she had already learned how to use these little trinkets. Zhou Shijin flew off on her sword, and the other elders also left the field.

Zhang Mo wanted to sprint after his master on the spot, not even wanting to pack his things. He composed himself and said to Zora and Vane in a stutter, "Then... then I’ll be leaving first."

Vane was also holding a talisman. After watching Jin Chuyang depart, he said to Zhang Mo, "Mhm. Goodbye."

Zora: "Goodbye."

Zhang Mo immediately rode his crane back. Zora slowly mounted her crane and looked at Vane. He had likely lived much better this month than in the Demon Realm; his jawline looked more like that of a youth his age—showing early signs of sharpness but not yet reached maturity. He was in his prime. His eyes were very calm, as if he weren't taking a master but simply choosing a cafeteria server.

In the original story, Vane pretended to be a respectful student; at least on the surface, everyone thought he was a good disciple.

Zora was curious: "You took Jin Chuyang as your master. How is it?"

Vane looked up in confusion. "How is what?"

"How does it feel?"

"Nothing special." Given his talent, it didn't matter who his master was; he had no opinion on anyone on the platform. Even having no master would be fine.

"Oh."

The crane flew toward Zora’s residence. Once inside, she stood in silence for a moment, thinking about what she should take. It seemed to be just a few sets of clothes.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Vane hadn't returned to his own house; instead, he followed Zora inside.

Zora: "?"

Oh right, the servant. Almost forgot.

She sat down, and Vane naturally began helping her pack the things she should take. Clothes, hair ribbons, and some small spirit stones. He put them into an embroidered pouch, tightened the drawstring, and tucked it into her storage bag.

Zora leaned on the table and suddenly said: "Your master might discover the Puppet Threads."

The youth's slender knuckles paused. He lowered his head so his expression couldn't be seen and gave a small "Mhm." He continued tying a red cord to her storage bag for her to carry and handed it to her.

Zora propped up her chin, her amber eyes staring intently. She suddenly stood up and moved close, her almond eyes exceptionally bright and direct, staring straight at him. Vane’s lashes lowered as she moved; he stayed rooted in place, his arm holding the storage bag dropping quietly as his fingertips dug into the soft fabric.

Zora: "He might tell you to get rid of the Puppet Threads."

Vane: "..."

"First come, first served," Zora thought for a moment and said seriously. "You are my servant first, and then his disciple."

The youth lowered his head, his dark eyes reflecting her silhouette. They were very close, their breaths almost intermingling. Naturally, he had no intention of relying on others to remove the Puppet Threads; that was impossible. No one could endure the pain of stripping them out for him. Nor would he deliberately show dissatisfaction to let others restrain her—no one could restrain her, he knew that perfectly well. If she couldn't defeat a powerful cultivator, she would likely prefer to die together—him and her, dying together.

As she made her declaration of possession, the youth immediately emptied his mind. He didn't know; he didn't know what he would think about this, so he habitually emptied his mind to avoid violating the covenant. Like a cat in a wooden box, he didn't know if it was alive or dead. To avoid seeing a dead cat, he chose to discard the box directly, not looking or listening.

—But perhaps, it was a living cat, meowing away.

Vane didn't answer. Zora looked at him closely, frowning in dissatisfaction. He suddenly felt his head and neck move uncontrollably as he gave a nod.

Vane was startled.

Zora said seriously: "Anyway, you’d better not try, otherwise it will be very dangerous for both of us." The worst-case scenario would be the destruction of the world, with both of them turning to ash.

Vane stared in silence, nodding slightly. His dark eyes revealed not a single emotion; who knows what he was thinking. Seeing that he understood, Zora turned away.

"Wait, the storage bag." Vane stepped forward. He had intended to place it in her palm, but meeting her gaze—which was turned back toward him and devoid of ripples—his arm stalled. The two stared at each other in silence for a moment. Then, the youth lowered his eyes and head, personally tying the red cord of the storage bag to the ribbon at her waist.

The girl’s waist was exceptionally resilient, slender yet not overly frail, hidden beneath her clothes and outlined by the ribbon. No matter how careful he was, his knuckles accidentally brushed against the fabric at her waist. It was nothing; he washed all her clothes, but once Zora put them on and they wrapped her body, even the slightest touch of the light fabric created a strange sensation. The skin felt slightly cool from the fabric’s chill, but the bones in his fingers felt a burning heat.

Vane kept his head down, his eyes clear of any impurity. Her warning wasn't harsh. It would have been better if she had beaten him to show her authority. He finished tying the cord, his pale fingers weaving through the red, until finally the cord slipped from his fingertips.

"Done."

Zora gave it a tug with her hand, found it was indeed secure, and nodded. The two walked out of the yard one after the other.

Zora: "Go on then."

Vane: "Yes." He had to return to his own quarters to pack. The youth mounted his crane and took off.

Zora crushed the yellow talisman. In the blink of an eye, Zhou Shijin appeared before her.

So fast.

Zhou Shijin looked at Vane’s departing back and tilted her head with interest. "Is he your friend?"

Zora shook her head and said honestly: "He is my servant."

"A servant? Careful he doesn't rebel." Zhou Shijin waved her sleeve, and a sword flew to her feet. She signaled for Zora to board. Zora stepped on, the spiritual sword rose into the air, and they headed for the Fallen Stone Forest. The fierce wind was blocked by an invisible barrier.

Zhou Shijin smiled: "If you could sign a master-servant covenant with him, you could at least be at ease for a few hundred years." She completely ignored everyone else and had no regard for the 'kindness' principles of the immortal world—she was entirely unfettered.

I already did, and added an extra layer of protection too.

Zora looked at Zhou Shijin’s profile and said nothing.

During a quiet stretch of the journey, Zhou Shijin suddenly laughed out loud, startling Zora into widening her eyes for an instant. "Hahahahahaha!" She laughed until tears came, rubbing the corners of her eyes. "It’s nothing. I just thought about how one elder’s disciple is my disciple’s slave, to be ordered around at will. It just makes me happy; I just want to laugh."

Zora gave an "Oh" to show she had heard clearly. Zhou Shijin turned to look at her disciple’s dazed face—her features were lovely, her eyes rounded, and her aura pure. She truly looked as harmless as a kitten. She couldn't help but touch the soft flesh of her cheek.

"Don't worry. Although I won't live long, these few decades are enough for me to teach you to become a standout among sword cultivators—even more worthwhile than several hundred years with other elders."

Zora nodded.

The Fallen Stone Forest, as the name suggests, was filled with standing stones and countless winding paths, with formations and runes scattered in every corner. At the end of the stone forest lay flat green grass, a cottage by a stream, and mist hanging low over the roofs. It felt as if they had arrived in an immortal realm above the clouds.

Oh right.

Zora jumped off the sword, recalling the original story. It seemed that Vane’s "Nail-to-the-Bone" punishment was personally carried out by Jin Chuyang—nails driven through the bones, deep into the meridians and organs, causing excruciating pain.

After Vane finished packing, he crushed the talisman. Jin Chuyang appeared and gave a slow yawn. "Let's go, disciple."

His weapon was a whip. Jin Chuyang reached out to grab Vane’s arm and used a "Shrinking Distance" technique. In the blink of an eye, they reached the Soaring Peak. The technique was too much for a youth who had just reached the Qi Condensation stage. He frowned deeply, his stomach churned, and his head swam. Yet he bit his lip and didn't make a sound.

Jin Chuyang only then realized his oversight, apologized, and stuffed a Heart-Calming Pill into his hand. Vane paused, looked at Jin Chuyang, took it and ate it, and the discomfort eased.

"This is my territory. You will practice here every day, and furthermore..."

Before he could finish, a child rushed in, looking panicked. "Immortal Jin! Immortal Jin! News has come from Ning'an County of a demon cultivator who escaped from the Demon Realm!"

Jin Chuyang’s expression turned sharp. The man’s lazy, unreliable air transformed instantly into a chilling sharpness. He detested demon cultivators, and by extension, the entire Demon Realm. After a moment, he glanced at the quiet Vane and raised a palm to signal he understood. "I know. I will go after I handle my disciple’s affairs. You take a few Sword Gate disciples and head there first to slay them."

Vane listened quietly, staring at the floor with lowered eyes. Once the child left, Jin Chuyang reined in his aura and said slowly, "When I checked your bones just now, I found Puppet Threads entwined within your body. Who planted them?"

The youth lowered his head and remained silent.

Jin Chuyang sighed and comforted him: "No matter who it was, you have become my disciple today. No one can imprison you, much less restrain or order you around. Do not fear. Although the Puppet Threads can only be rooted out at the Core Formation stage, perhaps we can try to deal with the owner of the threads."

"I have taken you as my disciple; I will naturally become your backing."

The hall fell into a moment of quiet silence. Vane didn't immediately empty his mind, yet not even a sliver of a thought to violate the Master-Servant Covenant appeared. Compared to being her servant, being someone who opened his heart to a person of the Immortal Cultivation Realm seemed even more loathsome to him.

Vane composed himself and suddenly put on an earnest expression, choosing the safest words: "The disciple is willing. Furthermore, that person will not harm me. Please rest easy, Master."

"..." Jin Chuyang stared intently. Vane met his gaze without a hint of guilt, looking as if he had been willing from start to finish.

"...Very well. But if the other person harbors any intent to harm you, do not hide it. Tell me everything."

"Yes."

Vane looked at Jin Chuyang and smiled—polite and appropriate, without a single shadow. It was as if the Puppet Threads were not worth mentioning or worrying about. At least Jin Chuyang relaxed a bit and stopped pushing so hard.

Take it slow; we'll see as things develop,

Jin Chuyang changed his mind. He began a simple introduction to the situation on Soaring Peak and the duties of the others on the peak.

At a moment when he should have been listening carefully and making a good first impression, Vane’s mind wandered, doing two things at once. In front of the master he would be with for a hundred years and from whom he would receive guidance and favors, and within the Golden Wave Hall he would step into countless times in the future, Zora’s words suddenly crossed the boy's mind:

—"You are my servant first, and then his disciple."

Zora had been so serious, her face solemn yet without any ill will. Even when saying such words, her eyes were clean and open.

It almost made one unable to resist agreeing with her.