"The path of immortality is a difficult one. Without the proper roots, one simply lacks the right to pursue it. You have a gift for alchemy; becoming a skilled herbalist is a path in itself. But a single misstep can lead to great mistakes." Songfeng sighed and then added, "Because of your contributions to the sect over the past three years, I will grant you a chance."
"Master!" Zhe Sang’s face darkened, but before he could protest, Songfeng glanced at him, and he fell silent.
"The Ice Cavern on the back mountain is where we punish inner disciples. If you can survive three days of the Ice Penalty there, then perhaps the heavens will grant mercy. Should you live through it, you will be free to leave Miao Miao Island."
This girl may be foolish, but her clear gaze suggests she isn’t truly power-hungry. She shares a close bond with Chong Zhao, so perhaps her attempted theft of the scroll was in some way for his sake. Yet, with everyone watching, her actions had breached the sect’s laws, and letting it go unpunished would be unacceptable.
Three days from now is the next disciple tournament, the same day Chong Zhao is to emerge from seclusion. Now that he is an immortal lord, breaking through the Ice Cavern’s barrier would be no obstacle. Songfeng’s decision to let her undergo the Ice Penalty was clearly meant to give her a chance at survival.
Thinking she was surely doomed, Bai Shuo was moved by his words. She lowered her head to the ground in gratitude. "Thank you, Sect Leader."
"Whatever fate awaits you, let it be in the hands of heaven." Songfeng waved her away, and two disciples stepped forward to escort Bai Shuo from the hall.
Given a lifeline, Bai Shuo obediently followed them in silence.
Inside the hall, Zhe Sang’s eyes burned with anger as he clenched his fists, fury rising within him. He knew well that the sect leader, Song Feng, held Chong Zhao in high regard, and that this arrangement was meant as a gesture of appeasement toward him. If Bai Shuo were to die, Chong Zhao, even while in seclusion, would sense it. Chong Zhao was at a critical juncture in his cultivation, and any disturbance to his mental state could lead to severe consequences, including the risk of deviation. Song Feng had spared Bai Shuo precisely to prevent this.
But Zhe Sang had returned to Miao Miao Island for one purpose: to take down Chong Zhao. Even though tonight’s events couldn’t ensnare Chong Zhao, he would see to it that this meddlesome little half-immortal, who had frustrated his plans, would die.
“Master, I hear that Chong Zhao has recently ascended to the rank of Immortal Lord, thus earning Miao Miao a place in the upcoming Wu Tong Martial Festival.”
“That’s correct,” Song Feng replied with a nod. “After several hundred years, our sect can finally participate in the grand event at Feng Island and witness the great gathering of the Three Realms.”
“I have a request, Master,” Zhe Sang said suddenly, bowing respectfully.
“What is it?” Song Feng asked, a bit taken aback.
“I’ve been away training for several years, during which I had an awakening after defeating a fierce beast in the North Sea. Now, I too have attained the body of an Immortal Lord, and I wish to bring honor to Miao Miao at the Wu Tong Festival. In three days’ time, during the competition among the Liuyun disciples, I would like to challenge Junior Brother Chong Zhao once more. If I am fortunate enough to win, I ask that you allow me to represent Miao Miao at Wu Tong and Feng Island.”
Zhe Sang’s words fell like a thunderclap, stunning everyone present. Slowly, he straightened, and his spiritual energy surged around him, clearly demonstrating the power of an Immortal Lord.
Outside the hall, Bai Shuo froze mid-step, incredulous at what she had just heard. In a flash, she pulled a small paper talisman from her bag and tossed it behind a pillar. Before she could do anything further, a group of disciples escorted her away.
* * *
In the Demon Realm, at the Cold Spring Palace, Fu Ling was in the midst of her cultivation when a spirit feather imbued with celestial energy flew straight into the hall. Fu Ling’s eyes snapped open as she caught the feather. She scanned its contents quickly and then tossed it into a nearby brazier with a faint smirk.
A maid at her side noticed Fu Ling’s cheerful mood and couldn’t help but ask, “Your Majesty, what brings you such joy?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just never expected that the stray dog I once saved would end up putting on such a fine show for me.”
“Is it the Immortal Sect disciple we saved in the North Sea a few years back?” The maid’s curiosity was piqued. “I recall he was named Sang something… from some obscure Immortal Sect in the East Sea…”
“Miao Miao,” Fu Ling’s eyes gleamed with subtle meaning. “Yes, quite the fallen sect indeed.”
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