Seventy-two Temptations

If one were to ask where the most resplendent and magnificent residence in the Yaohua Sect was, most would likely guess it to be at Lingyin Peak, the abode of Daoist Master Miao Zhen. Who could have imagined that not far from the cave of Daoist Master Yuheng on the Medicine Peak, there was a small residence, decorated in splendid luxury, breathtakingly beautiful.

Inside the cave, two beautiful female cultivators were chattering and laughing together.

"Tansian, is the outside world really that wonderful? Is that fat Hu fellow really as funny as you say?" The striking golden core cultivator, playing with a folding fan in her hand, smiled as she questioned the foundation stage cultivator beside her.

The foundation stage cultivator was Lu Tansian. Her gentle, elegant smile radiated warmth and kindness. "How could I ever fool our wise and valiant Aunt Zi? You’ll know just how interesting the outside world is once you’ve experienced it for yourself."

"Ah..." The radiant cultivator suddenly sighed softly, without knowing why. "I was taken to the secret grounds as a child. My days have been nothing but cultivation, I’ve never seen the outside world. If you hadn’t come to talk with me today, I fear I would have embarrassed myself at the ceremony later."

These words left Lu Tansian with a complicated feeling, but thankfully her elder brother had given her a medicine that could suppress her erratic, splitting states of mind. "Don’t say that. You’re the star of today’s event—how could you embarrass yourself?"

"But there’s another protagonist, isn’t there? I heard he’s also a lightning spirit root. He’s younger than I am, and yet we formed golden cores at the same time. They say he’s exceptionally impressive, too. It sounds... it sounds..." The striking cultivator blushed inexplicably, twisting the folding fan almost out of shape.

Lu Tansian burst out laughing, moved closer to rescue the fan from her hands, and teased, "It sounds like what? Like you two are fated? Are you wondering if he’s the one destined for you? Hahahaha! You, locked up in the forbidden grounds all this time—how did you ever manage to sneak a look at those romance books?"

"You’re making things up! I never read any such books..." The blushing cultivator protested, pouting in mock anger, and began to playfully scuffle with Lu Tansian.

"Aunt, the hour grows late, please change your attire soon." The voice of the steward disciple Tao Xinyan drifted in from outside the window, abruptly ending the laughter.

After a moment, "Yes, yes, I haven’t changed yet. Where are my clothes? Tansian, will you help me? This is the first time I’ve worn something so complicated."

Lu Tansian could barely suppress the disdain surging within her; she closed her eyes for a moment to quell the strange personality that threatened to overwhelm her mind. She smiled and said, "Of course."

It was obvious the striking cultivator had never changed clothes in front of others before, her face remained as red as if smeared with rouge. When she removed her outer robe, a dazzling necklace was revealed.

"What’s this..." As Lu Tansian was about to help her into her ceremonial dress, her eyes caught sight of a necklace adorned with a watery, cloud-like pattern. She suddenly remembered something her brother had once said: "No matter where you are, if you ever see a necklace with a watery cloud design, you must tell me at once. If possible, get your hands on it."

Lu Tansian didn’t know why her brother cared so much about this necklace, but she paused her movements and asked, feigning nonchalance, "Aunt Zi, that necklace around your neck is quite unique. Did your ancestor forge it for you?"

Zi Huanshan, fumbling with the intricate sashes of her clothing, replied irritably, "I picked it up in the secret grounds one time. It looked pretty, so I kept it. It’s completely useless, a waste really. Oh, help me out, these sashes are all tangled."

While Lu Tansian racked her brain to find a way to probe further, outside, the celebration was about to begin. But what kind of celebration was this? To answer that, one must start from the beginning.

In recent years, the Yaohua Sect had seen a string of joyous events. First, Daoist Master Yuheng formed a nascent soul at the age of two hundred and thirty-four, becoming the seventh nascent soul cultivator in the sect. Then, the heads of Lingyin and Lingwu Peaks both had daughters, and their wives also succeeded in forming nascent souls. Now, the sect boasted nine nascent soul masters, ranking first in the Luoxing Realm.

Among the disciples, talents abounded. The most outstanding was Hansu, who shared the same spiritual root attribute as the sect’s founder, and astonishingly formed her golden core at forty-three. Later, the thunder spirit root girl Zi Huanshan, who had been cultivating in the secret grounds with the transformation stage ancestor, also succeeded in forming her golden core. And then, this very year, Ji Yan of the Ji clan—also a thunder spirit root—formed his golden core at fifty-five!

The cultivation speed of these disciples could only be described as heaven-defying. Such a wealth of talent was a great blessing for the sect. Moreover, Zi Huanshan could not remain in seclusion forever; she, too, had to venture out and contribute to her family and the sect. Meanwhile, the Ji clan was eager to showcase their most outstanding descendant in years, Ji Yan, as part of their preparations to strengthen their influence in the sect.

Thus, the sect leader decided to hold a grand two-day celebration for the two newly advanced golden core thunder spirit cultivators.

When Hansu formed her golden core, she was gravely wounded and spent five years in seclusion upon returning to the sect. Later, due to affairs in the Hall of Fate, Daoist Master Hengbo had tricked Daoist Master Zhuji out of many things, and the stingy sect master simply pretended to forget Hansu’s golden core ceremony.

Fortunately, Hansu’s entire family had always been low-key and never wished for a grand spectacle. But if Su Yunmo’s celebration were ignored in the same way, Lingyin Peak would surely raze the sect leader’s Lingyun Peak to the ground.

A significant portion of the funds for this occasion came from Zi Huanshan’s ancestor, with the remainder provided by Ji Yan’s grandfather—Ji You’s fourth uncle. Since there were those willing to foot the bill, the sect leader was more than happy to ensure the event was spectacular.

The venue was set at the martial arena. When the bell rang, the two protagonists finally arrived.

Man to the left, woman to the right—both attired in ceremonial dress—the newly advanced golden core cultivators ascended the dais from opposite sides. What a sight it was! Both were thunder spirit roots: the man dashing, the woman charming. Simply standing there, they were a feast for the eyes, to say nothing of the significance each represented.

The other four great sects each sent disciples to attend the ceremony, usually a nascent soul master accompanied by several golden core cultivators and some foundation stage disciples. No matter how talented, it was only a golden core ceremony—not something that required the sect leader’s personal attendance. Yet there was one sect leader who did come in person.

Yu Yicong sat in the seat of honor, his gaze fixed intently on Ji Yan, his eyes glinting with an inscrutable light. The sect leader, Daoist Master Zhuji, smiled as he looked at the pair on stage, his heart filled with pride, his fingers constantly rubbing a pair of tiny gourds.

Occasionally, catching Yu Yicong’s gaze, he would remark smugly, "Well, Dean Yu, isn’t the Ji family’s disciple impressive?"

Yu Yicong returned a sincere smile. "Such an outstanding disciple—I have never seen the like. I look forward to Daoist Master introducing him to me someday."

Daoist Master Zhuji’s fingers spun the gourds faster, suppressing the smile tugging at his lips. "Of course, Dean Yu must give him some guidance."

The stage overflowed with flowers and splendor, but below, in one corner, there was a discordant note. Ji You stared intently at his distant nephew Ji Yan, his heart full of indescribable bitterness and regret.

Those who were once inseparable from him had all gone to greet the new junior uncle; who remembered yesterday’s faded flower?

No, perhaps there was still one person. "One day, you will surpass him. I can’t stand that pretty boy look of his. He cultivates so quickly—maybe he’s possessed by something." Shang Lechi, approaching from behind, spoke nonsense to comfort him, but Ji You thought of Suoyun, whom he’d missed all those years ago.

He’d heard that Suoyun had also formed her golden core.

He’d heard she was chasing a demon cultivator somewhere far away.

If he hadn’t rejected her back then, would he be standing on stage today, receiving praise?

"Don’t let your imagination run wild. Keep your mind clear! All these trials are part of cultivation!" In his daze, someone was always shouting these words at him, a sobering blow like a monk’s staff or a sudden revelation.

Since Ji Yan’s birth, his heart had grown restless and agitated. All of this was his inner demon, and he must overcome it if he was to progress on his path. What he sought was the Dao itself—he never wanted to be sect leader. He must not let his surroundings sway his mind.

At that moment, the long-standing barrier within him quietly broke. He advanced—over seventy and at the eighth level of foundation establishment, already far surpassing his peers. Yet, besides Shang Lechi, no one noticed his progress or cheered for him. But at last, he no longer cared.

Onstage, the pair went through the ceremony’s steps, received their Daoist titles, accepted words of blessing from their elders, and finally were able to catch their breath.

From the moment Ji Yan appeared, Zi Huanshan’s eyes never left him. Later, she would marvel at how she managed to complete the elaborate rituals, for at the time, all her heart was focused on him.

She gazed at his elegant brows and handsome features, at the fine nose and lips, at the intricate ceremonial robes that set off his immortal grace—she was utterly captivated. Fate had bestowed upon her the rarest thunder spirit root and presented her with a partner seemingly tailor-made for her; he must be hers!

Watching the dazzling scene on stage, Tao Xinyan whispered to Wang Wei, "When will we ever have a day like that?"

Wang Wei patted her shoulder. "Don’t say ‘we.’ Even Hansu, as remarkable as she is, didn’t have such a ceremony. All this is just empty show—cultivation is what matters. You’re already at the third layer of foundation establishment, about to break through. Why become a steward disciple?"

"It’s a mission. I can’t talk about it now, but I’ll tell you next time when we’re alone."

"You little brat, keeping secrets from me?" The two bickered playfully as they crossed an empty courtyard, paying no attention to the five people sitting in a corner.

"So, Little Plum Blossom, what did you see? Didn’t Little Apricot and Little Apple just now mention our little meat bun?" The seductive Xi Huan lounged lazily against a plum tree Ling Mei had just planted, always speaking with that air of languid mystery.

Ling Mei smiled wickedly. "The one up there is someone to watch."

Ling Han, sitting in meditation while stroking the junior sister’s ear, shot him a glare. "What are you being cryptic about? Hansu taught you divination so you could play guessing games?"

Ling Shu’s eyes brimmed with envy. "With the fortune that’s fallen upon you, senior brother, you should be working tirelessly to master your newfound legacy, not wandering about with your old plum tree. Doesn’t it make you feel the least bit sheepish?"

Though the little junior sister obediently let her eccentric senior sister play with her ears, her hands twisted restlessly. She had remained silent, absorbed in her own play, until she heard Ling Shu’s words and couldn’t help but laugh. "Senior brother, your idioms are getting more and more ridiculous—don’t talk nonsense! And where did you even learn ‘blushing with shame’?"

Suddenly, a breeze carried the lily scent from their master Han Yangzi’s long beard. "Children, the weather is about to change. Why are you still lingering here? Come back at once."

"But we’ve only had two days of freedom..."

"Terrible news! Senior sister Su Yunmo has broken out of confinement!" A foolish disciple, oblivious to decorum, burst into the ceremony, adding fresh evidence to Han Yangzi’s words.

There was no time to imagine what kind of dark expression Daoist Master Zhanzhan would wear, shamed in front of all the sects, nor what fate awaited the hapless disciple. The group hastily obeyed their master’s summons and returned to the Hall of Fate. The door, once open, would soon close for another ten years.