Chapter 2: Farewell, Senior Sister
It was spring, and Hidden Sword Peak was awash in vibrant beauty, with peach and plum blossoms blanketing the mountains.
Jiang Li donned a pristine white daoist robe and checked himself in the mirror. The young man staring back had rosy lips, bright teeth, sharp brows, and starry eyes—less a sword cultivator, more a scholar. Truth be told, he couldn't really call himself a sword cultivator anymore. His sword had been gifted to a junior sister from a previous fling as a parting token, leaving him swordless.
No sword, no sword cultivator.
Bai Sheng trained at Extreme Sword Mountain, one of its twelve peaks, where she practiced at the summit. Extreme Sword Mountain's swordsmanship prized speed—speed to the utmost was the finest sword, or so they believed. Jiang Li wasn't convinced.
Today's destination was Extreme Sword Mountain, home to a peach blossom grove. He recalled seeing Bai Sheng there last year, sitting alone under a peach tree, lost in thought as petals drifted down.
But that was a year ago. His goal today was to gather fresh intel—his notes were outdated, and any recent changes could lead to missteps.
Know yourself, know your enemy, and victory follows.
Though Big White was reluctant, two dried fish bribed the cat onto Jiang Li's shoulder. Together, they set off on a rusty iron sword Jiang Li had scrounged up, flying toward their destination.
At early Foundation Establishment, Jiang Li could barely manage sword flight for short distances, enough to cross two peaks. In the past two years, he'd gained some notoriety in Xuantian Daoji Sect—whether good or bad was debatable.
Upon landing at Extreme Sword Mountain, passing male disciples shot him dismissive sneers, while female disciples either glared with disdain or gazed at him with tender eyes. Polarizing, to say the least.
Jiang Li didn't care. He reached the peach blossom grove, where countless peach trees—treasures of Extreme Sword Peak—stood. Come summer, their spirit peaches fetched about one spirit stone each.
The grove buzzed with activity: women admiring flowers, daoist couples whispering under trees, and painters setting up easels to capture portraits for female cultivators, preserving fond memories.
Jiang Li's purpose today was similar.
He found a spacious spot under a large peach tree, where a breeze sent petals dancing. Setting up his easel, he prepared to paint.
His painting skill was maxed.
Copied skills could be improved by re-copying or constant practice. Over the years, painting countless portraits for women had honed his craft to perfection. If he had to say it, he was a painting sage.
Big White lounged beside him, napping lazily—cats were like that. With nothing urgent, Jiang Li let it sleep. Once his easel was up, fish began biting.
Sadly, not the fish he wanted.
"Junior Brother Jiang, here to charm more sisters?"
A woman in a pink spring skirt stood before him, her sheer veil draping round, smooth shoulders. Her teasing eyes caught him off guard.
Oh no—Moon-Moon or Sunny?
He blanked on her name, so he played it off with an innocent smile. "Not at all. I'm a bit strapped for cash, so I thought I'd paint at Extreme Sword Mountain to earn some living expenses."
She wasn't buying it. "That excuse might fool other girls, but not me. Spill it—which Extreme Sword Mountain girl caught your eye? Let your senior sister vet her."
Jiang Li relaxed.
His charm had always served him well. Every fling ended amicably—he never shortchanged a girl, showering them with care, making them laugh, and earning a warm embrace. A win-win deal.
"How about I paint one for you first?" He sidestepped revealing his true aim.
The world's two toughest creatures to handle: cats and women. If he admitted he wanted info on Bai Sheng, she'd likely scoff and leave.
Women needed coaxing.
"But I've spent so many spirit stones on hairpins and skirts lately—Praying Moon Pavilion is a gold sink."
"With our bond, how could I charge you a single spirit stone?" Jiang Li's innocent warmth brought a smile to her lips. "You're too kind, Junior Brother."
She posed under the peach tree, and Jiang Li began painting.
Truthfully, he wasn't fond of realism—too lifelike, and it wouldn't charm a girl. To please, he painted her prettier than reality, taking every stroke seriously.
Or so it seemed.
In truth, he kept glancing up to sneak peeks at her legs, faintly visible beneath her skirt's sheer hem. After two incense sticks' time, he set down his brush, feigning exhaustion.
The pink-skirt sister approached, her eyes sparkling at the portrait. Seeing his "worn-out" state, she softened. "Am I really this beautiful?"
"In my heart, you've always been this way." He winked, watching her eagerly tuck the painting away. As she leaned closer, he raised a finger to his lips.
"Senior sister, I sell art, not myself," he said innocently.
She didn't mind, nor was she shy, just humming lightly before sitting beside him. "So, which Extreme Sword Mountain girl are you after this time?"
Now he could ask freely. "How much do you know about Junior Sister Bai Sheng?"
Her eyes widened, and she pinched his arm. "You're seriously targeting her?"
"A gentleman pursues a fair lady. The other day, I was wandering and caught a glimpse of her—love at first sight, unstoppable."
She whacked his shoulder hard.
"Bai Sheng just came out of seclusion yesterday—you saw nothing!"
He grinned awkwardly.
She shot him a sidelong glance, turning away. "I don't recommend going after her."
"Why not?"
"She's lonely, introverted, and her Calamity Dao Body keeps friends away… If you get close, then abandon her, won't that break her heart?"
"No friends? I'll help her make some. Introverted? I'll bring out her spark. Love doesn't follow logic—I'll make her happy. Please, trust me."
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head helplessly.
"Bai Sheng often comes to this grove alone. Her mother's dying wish was to be buried under a peach tree—this one we're leaning against."
Jiang Li froze briefly as she continued. "She's soft-spoken, avoids male cultivators, but she's close to that woman. Wait—you're not targeting Bai Sheng to get back at her, are you?"
"Of course not. Mu Bingning rejected me, and I hold no grudge—just no fate between us."
"You sure sound like a hopeless romantic." She teased, then added, "Bai Sheng loves animals but doesn't keep any, fearing they'd suffer her curse. Her life's simple—mostly sword practice. That's all I know; we're not close."
"That's plenty. Thanks, senior sister."
"Thanks for what? Your paintings aren't cheap in the sect." She glanced at him, stood, and ruffled Big White's head. The cat, annoyed at being woken, nipped her finger—harmlessly.
"You're scheming, bringing Big White to lure girls."
"I'd better go—lingering with a scoundrel like you might shake my dao heart."
Jiang Li chuckled helplessly. "Farewell, senior sister."
He lingered under the peach tree. The warm sunlight filtered through blossoms, casting dappled spots on the ground. He watched people pass, the cozy weather lulling him toward a nap.
So he pulled out a lounge chair and dozed off.
When Jiang Li woke, it was noon, the sun fiercer. The grove had quieted—most disciples had left for lunch. Yawning, he sat up, spotting a white-skirted figure approaching, head slightly bowed.
He had face blindness, but her full chest and slender waist were unmistakable.
He nudged Big White's rear. The cat lazily lifted its head. Another dried fish coaxed it to stand, stretch, yawn, and amble under the peach tree to "wait for rabbits."
Bai Sheng reached the tree, noticing the easel. She bit her lip, glancing at the person there—good, he was focused on painting, not her.
But then a fat cat waddled to her feet, weaving around. Confused, she hesitated until it meowed up at her. Understanding dawned. She crouched, gently petting its head.
The fat cat nuzzled her palm affectionately.