Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Wind and Clouds of the Immovable Peak

On this day, Fang Junmei left the house early.

Yet someone had risen even earlier than he. Dressed all in white, Fan Lanzhou stood by the window of his small room, sipping hot tea as he let the morning breeze brush against him. His gaze was fixed on the distant mountains, and within his gentle eyes, a complex emotion was faintly discernible.

At this moment, the sun had only just risen, and the first ray of light fell upon Fan Lanzhou. It illuminated his tall figure and his handsome, jade-like face, casting him in a radiant glow that lent him the air of an immortal from the celestial realms.

In terms of looks and refined bearing, this man was easily among the top five most distinguished men of the Taoyuan Sword Sect.

"Second Senior Brother," Fang Junmei called softly from afar.

Fan Lanzhou turned his head, glanced at him, and gave a slight nod.

Today, Fan Lanzhou seemed somehow different; his entire presence exuded an aura as if he was about to ride the wind and ascend to the sky.

Fang Junmei's eyes flickered, but he said nothing more. He made his way to the well, drew water, and began to wash up. The well water on the Immovable Peak was exceptionally clear and cold, making Fang Junmei feel refreshed to his core.

After washing, he strolled to the stone table beneath the peach tree in the courtyard, produced a jug of wine, and began to drink heartily. Compared to Fan Lanzhou's fondness for tea, Fang Junmei preferred the boldness of wine; it was one of his greatest pleasures from his freewheeling days wandering the martial world.

Tap, tap, tap—

Footsteps approached from behind. Fan Lanzhou walked over.

After taking a seat, he spoke softly, "Junmei, I don't think I've ever told you about our master."

Fang Junmei nodded.

Fan Lanzhou nodded as well, but then fell silent again, as if pondering where to begin.

"When Master was awake, his favorite thing to do was to stand by the window with a cup of tea, just as I was doing. I picked up this habit from him," Fan Lanzhou said quietly.

Fang Junmei responded with an understanding nod.

Fan Lanzhou continued, "He often said that there were two things on Immovable Peak that captivated him most: the clouds visible through the window, and the wind that greeted him at the door."

Fang Junmei’s eyes flickered. Was his master always so poetic? And from the sound of it, he seemed a bit lazy and disinclined to train, which perhaps explained his somewhat forlorn Daoist title.

“In truth, the other peaks must be much the same, but once a person has settled on a place and its scenery, it’s hard to accept anywhere else, even if the differences are slight,” Fan Lanzhou went on.

Fang Junmei’s gaze grew focused. He had always been easygoing and was never much of a reader—he simply couldn’t grasp such sentimental moods.

Fan Lanzhou seemed not to notice, and continued, “Because Master loved the wind and clouds atop Immovable Peak, he even created a unique sword technique called the Grand Evolution Wind and Cloud Sword. Today, I will use this technique to win the first battle and defend Immovable Peak for Master!”

As he finished, Fan Lanzhou’s gaze sharpened, filled with unshakable resolve.

Only then did Fang Junmei realize the purpose behind this seemingly random conversation. He nodded in acknowledgment.

Fan Lanzhou said, “The more profound a sword technique, the higher the requirement for one’s state of mind. Only those who share a similar heart can wield it to its fullest. Our Grand Evolution Wind and Cloud Sword—be it Senior Brother, myself, Linghu, or Xiaoman—we have all studied it, but only my temperament most closely resembles Master’s. Today, you must watch closely, and then tell me whether you wish to learn this sword art.”

“Thank you, Senior Brother. I will pay close attention.”

So this was Fan Lanzhou’s true intention.

“After the tournament, when you go to choose a technique from the Sutra Repository, you must consider carefully. Do not make your choice lightly,” Fan Lanzhou reminded him, this time sending the words directly to his mind.

Fang Junmei nodded again.

...

“Wow, Second Senior Brother, you’re secretly passing sword arts to your little junior first thing in the morning? That’s not fair—I want in too!” Yang Xiaoman’s voice drifted over, lively, carefree, and a touch willful—yet never annoying.

The two of them smiled and looked over.

Today, Yang Xiaoman was no different than usual: a long robe of yellow with embroidered flowers, a light green gauze draped over her shoulders, yellow leather boots on her feet. She moved with ease and grace, her neat bangs on her forehead, and her clear crescent-moon eyes full of laughter.

If she were a flower, she would be the one swaying most freely in the wind.
If she were a sprite, she would be the most mischievous and lively of them all.

She entered the yard, crossed to the table in a few steps, plopped herself down, and said to Fang Junmei, “Junior, pour me a jug too.”

Her tone was bold and unreserved, not one bit less daring than a man’s.

Fang Junmei smiled and, without a word, set four or five jugs on the table.

Yang Xiaoman picked one up and drank it in big gulps, imitating the men, yet somehow with a hint of playful charm.

“Weren’t you always the one who loved tea most? And didn’t you always say Linghu smelled of nothing but wine?” Fan Lanzhou asked in surprise.

“Of course! Our junior is much more handsome—how could Senior Brother Linghu compare?” Yang Xiaoman teased, her gaze full of disdain.

What kind of answer was that!

Fan Lanzhou and Fang Junmei both darkened slightly, and Fang Junmei looked a little embarrassed.

...

“Xiaoman, must you be so unruly this early? I am your senior, you know. Number Five may be handsome, but you can’t exactly drink him with your wine!” At last, Linghu Jinjiu’s hoarse voice sounded.

The three burst out laughing.

Whoosh!

Linghu Jinjiu flashed to the table, took the last stone stool, and pulled out a jug, drinking as he sparred with Yang Xiaoman.

The courtyard was filled with a cheerful, convivial atmosphere.

Fang Junmei felt a wave of ease and contentment in his heart. It was a sense of sibling camaraderie he had long missed. In this moment, he truly felt a deep sense of belonging to Immovable Peak. Even though their master lay in unending slumber, unable to guide him, even though he had to earn his own sword spirit stones through missions—

Here, there was no scheming, no plotting against one another, no lofty immortals lording over them—only the warmth of humanity.

...

After more than half an hour, seeing the time had come, the four of them rose on clouds and headed for the mountain valley.

Soon, they arrived at the valley and landed on the high platform reserved for Immovable Peak.

Today, the atmosphere in the valley was especially lively. All the cultivators knew that, as per tradition, after the Floating Dust Group’s matches concluded, the Dao Embryo Group’s competition would begin. This tier of contest was something many cultivators longed to witness, hoping to glean insight from it.

There were sixteen contestants in the Dao Embryo Group, with no group stages; defeat meant elimination. This meant that if Fan Lanzhou defeated two opponents, he would enter the semifinals.

The pace was swift.

The results, unforgiving.

This was one of the main attractions of the Dao Embryo Group’s matches.

The matchups for this group were all decided in advance by the elders. Unless someone concealed their true strength, things were generally fair—there would be no situations like Gu Xijin and Long Jinyi meeting in the first round.

“First match of the Dao Embryo Group: You Zhi of Grand Void Peak versus Lei Yinzi, an outer disciple!”

The steward disciple announced loudly. Two figures shot through the air, landing in the center of the grand plaza.