Collecting Disciples for a Hundred Years [Transmigration] - Chapter 2

Song Junyu lowered her head and met the little girl’s gaze.

The girl was covered in filth, her face unrecognizable, but her eyes were strikingly clear—black and white, with delicate, dense lashes that trembled like butterfly wings. Despite being in an utterly desperate situation, there was no trace of fear in her gaze. Instead, it carried a sharp edge, like a gleaming blade of cold steel.

Their eyes locked for a moment before the girl quickly lowered her lashes, concealing the emotions in her eyes. When Song Junyu looked again, all she could see were the girl’s downturned, exquisitely curved eyelashes—like fine brushstrokes—and a barely visible red mole at the corner of her eye.

This look…

Song Junyu was momentarily dazed. By the time she snapped out of it, the girl had already grabbed the hem of Song Junyu’s robe and struggled to her feet. She seemed intent on fleeing, but the pursuers had already caught up, swiftly surrounding them.

Leading the group was a burly, heavily made-up woman. As soon as she approached, she gasped for breath and spat out curses before delivering a vicious slap to the girl’s face.

The force of the blow sent the already frail girl crashing into the corner, her head slamming against the wall before she crumpled into a trembling heap.

Song Junyu’s eyelid twitched, and her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword.

“You wretched brat! Thought you were a meek little mute, didn’t you? Never imagined you’d dare fake your death and run!” The woman, emboldened by her numbers, paid no heed to Song Junyu and sneered. “You still think you’re the pampered young miss of the Ji family?”

“Let me make it clear today. It was your stepmother who sold you to us!”

“Even if you expose her, with her brother in the immortal sects backing her, your father wouldn’t dare lift a finger against her!”

“Once you’ve stepped into our Yihong Pavilion, the world will see you as tainted! Even if you run home, that sanctimonious father of yours would just hand you over to the clan to be drowned in the pond…”

What a pitiful little cabbage!

Song Junyu sighed inwardly. From the woman’s words, she had already pieced together the situation.

So, when the woman lunged forward again, grabbing the girl’s hair in a fit of rage, the cold edge of a drawn sword pressed against her wrist.

“You’re meddling in someone else’s business now?”

The woman’s hand trembled at the sight of the gleaming blade, and she glared at Song Junyu with a venomous expression. Earlier, Song Junyu had been standing in the shadows, her features unclear. But now, as she stepped forward into the light, the woman caught sight of her attire. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, and her tone softened considerably, even forcing a stiff smile.

“Immortal Envoy, let’s talk this over! It’s not that I want to torment her, but this little wretch is just too stubborn! A mute like her—where does she think she’s going to survive out there if she runs from our Yihong Pavilion?”

“I don’t care whether she survives or not!”

Song Junyu stared at the woman’s contorted face, marveling at her ability to switch expressions so swiftly. But outwardly, she wore a look of displeasure as she stepped further into the light, revealing several bloody handprints on the hem of her robe.

“This is a brand-new cloud-silk robe, ruined within moments by this wild child. Since she belongs to you, shouldn’t you give me an explanation?”

Song Junyu’s words were half-truths. The Cloud Silkworm Robe had the ability to deflect blades and swords, shimmering brilliantly and exquisitely beautiful. It was extremely expensive, typically only worn by inner disciples of certain major sects. The set Song Junyu was wearing had been gifted to her by Elder Qian a few years ago for her hundredth birthday. Who knew how much effort Elder Qian had gone through to obtain it? Song Junyu treasured it dearly, rarely wearing it except on occasions when she needed to flaunt her status, so it still looked as good as new.

The woman’s smile stiffened as she scrutinized Song Junyu, clearly recognizing the robe. Noticing Song Junyu’s striking beauty and noble bearing, she grew even more wary of her identity, her earlier confidence evaporating. Her eyes darted around before she forced another ingratiating smile.

“Surely a noble person like yourself wouldn’t hold a grudge against someone so insignificant. This child’s uncle is also an immortal from the Purple Sun Alliance. We’re all part of the same immortal path…”

Song Junyu didn’t respond. She merely watched the woman with an enigmatic smile, slowly tilting her sword upward until its tip hovered at the woman’s throat.

The woman shuddered, no longer daring to spin her words, and fell silent with a tremble.

The Cloud Silkworm Robe was priceless. Even the Purple Sun Alliance might not possess one. This time, she had truly kicked an iron plate…

“It’s all this wretched girl’s fault,” the woman gulped, feeling as though the sword’s tip had already pierced her flesh. Most cultivators these days were arrogant, killing as easily as slicing melons. Not daring to gamble with her life, she shifted the blame to the unconscious girl on the ground, her voice trembling. “Beat her, scold her—do as you please. If you’re still angry, even killing her is fine. I just wouldn’t want to dirty your sword…”

Song Junyu cast a seemingly indifferent glance at the girl, relieved to see she was still breathing, though her expression remained cold. After a long pause, she finally met the woman’s uneasy gaze and spoke icily, “Killing her outright would be too merciful for this little wild thing!”

“If you can’t compensate me for my Cloud Silkworm Robe,” Song Junyu lifted her chin and tapped the woman’s cheek with the flat of her blade, “then give me this girl’s deed of ownership.”

“I’ve been refining medicines lately. I need a test subject!”

The woman’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting such a demand. Her lips twitched as if to refuse, but the sword at her throat made her hesitate. After several frantic glances around, she let out a bitter laugh. “You’re putting me in an impossible position! If I hand over her deed, how will I explain it to her family when they come looking for her…?”

“Am I not doing you a favor?”

Song Junyu wasn’t fooled. She pulled out a Frost Jade Needle from her qiankun pouch and blew on it lightly. “This girl’s stepmother didn’t just sell her to you, did she? She probably gave you other instructions too. Since you’re meant to torment her, is there anything worse than being a test subject?”

The woman hadn’t expected Song Junyu to guess the hidden deal. She had indeed agreed to make the girl suffer, but she hadn’t planned to follow the stepmother’s orders to torture her to death. After all, despite being mute, the girl had a face of unparalleled beauty—with proper training, she could become the prized attraction of their establishment. The woman couldn’t bear to let this golden goose slip away.

But compensating for the Cloud Silkworm Robe? She couldn’t afford it even if she sold herself…

The woman hesitated, her face alternating between pale and ashen. Just then, the little girl lying half-dead in the corner seemed to regain some strength, her head twitching slightly. The female executioner pointing a sword at the woman impatiently glanced over. Before anyone could see how she moved, several gleaming needles whistled through the air and embedded themselves in the little girl’s head!

The girl collapsed motionless.

The woman stared at the remaining needles in the executioner’s hand, her back drenched in cold sweat, her eyes wide with terror. She felt as though those icy needles would plunge into her own skull at any moment.

Even a money tree couldn’t spend its riches without a life to enjoy them. The woman quickly made her decision, forcing an ingratiating smile.

“It’s an honor that the immortal fairy has taken a liking to her. This is the girl’s good fortune. I’ll go back at once and fetch her deed of sale for you…”

–

Song Junyu hadn’t expected her bluff—relying solely on her intimidating attire—to work so well. She followed the woman back to the Yihong Pavilion to retrieve the deed of sale for the pitiful child named Ji Chan.

Even after obtaining the deed, Song Junyu didn’t dare relax. She circled the city several times to shake off the low-level cultivators the woman had sent to tail her. Only when she returned to Qing Ping Sect and saw her junior sister Lin Ying practicing her sword forms did she finally exhale in relief, the weight lifting from her chest.

Lin Ying was a petite girl with round cheeks and large, sparkling eyes, resembling a pampered neighbor’s daughter. Yet, Song Junyu felt an unusual sense of security around her—Lin Ying was a true martial fanatic, blessed with exceptional talent. Her cultivation surpassed Song Junyu’s by a level, having reached late-stage Foundation Establishment and on the verge of breaking through to Golden Core. If anyone dared pursue them, with Lin Ying present, the two could hold their own even against a Golden Core cultivator.

“Junior Sister, Elder Qian has left the mountain. For the safety of our sect, could you stay within the gates a little longer this time?”

Even as Song Junyu returned with a bloodied child in tow, Lin Ying didn’t look up, wholly absorbed in her sword practice. Only when Song Junyu stepped forward and spoke did Lin Ying finally raise her head.

“I recently came across a type of talisman. Engraving it on a sword can increase the speed of your strikes!” Seeing Lin Ying’s slight frown, clearly unconvinced that their remote mountain hideaway could pose any danger, Song Junyu pressed on, “If you agree to stay for half a month, I’ll engrave the talisman onto your sword!”

Lin Ying didn’t answer. Instead, she puffed out her cheeks, her almond-shaped eyes fixed unblinkingly on Song Junyu. Though her expression was blank, Song Junyu could practically feel the accusation in her gaze.

Over the years, to avoid the perilous turning points from the original story, Song Junyu had gone to great lengths to keep her sect members within the mountain whenever major conflicts arose outside. The others, unaware of the truth, had grown somewhat resentful after being forcibly detained so many times.

Recalling the flimsy excuses she’d used in the past, Song Junyu guiltily rubbed her nose. After a moment’s thought, she untied the qiankun pouch from her waist and tossed it to Lin Ying. “I’ll stake the spirit stones in this pouch as collateral. If nothing happens within half a month, these hundred low-grade spirit stones are yours!”

Qing Ping Sect was dirt-poor. To other sects, a hundred low-grade spirit stones was pocket change, but to them, it was a small fortune.

“I already promised Bai Chi I’d go down the mountain with him for training. I’ll need to let him know first.”

Lin Ying’s eyes flickered. Pressing her lips together, she pocketed the qiankun pouch—her silent agreement.

“I’ve just added medicine to the hot spring in the back mountain,” Lin Ying glanced at the little girl brought by Song Junyu and spoke stiffly, “Her injuries will require at least five days of soaking.”

“Thank you, junior sister!”

Song Junyu smiled brightly, watching as Lin Ying soared into the sky on her sword. Her fingers twitched slightly, tempted to pinch Lin Ying’s still slightly chubby cheeks as she used to when they were children. But seeing her junior sister’s stern and serious expression, Song Junyu ultimately abandoned the thought.

Ah! In truth, her junior sister hadn’t always been like this. It was only after Song Junyu took in two extraordinarily talented disciples that Lin Ying became so deeply affected. Since then, she had turned into this unsmiling, single-mindedly focused cultivator…

Song Junyu sighed softly as she briefly reminisced about the past, then resumed her steps, carrying the poor little girl toward the hot spring pool in the back mountain.

Perhaps due to the prolonged suffering she had endured, the little girl was as light as a feather. The hot spring, infused with medicinal herbs year-round, was remarkably effective in treating external injuries and regulating internal energy. It had always been reserved for Lin Ying, who frequently returned injured from her training expeditions. Now that Lin Ying remained within the sect and no longer ventured out, it was the perfect opportunity for the battered little Ji Chan to benefit from it.

Song Junyu gently placed the girl into the pool, removed the cold jade needle embedded in her scalp, and peeled off her bloodstained outer robe.

Earlier, to stop the girl’s incessant bleeding, Song Junyu had used the cold jade needle to seal the bleeding meridians while also taking the chance to frighten that despicable woman.

Even though she had mentally prepared herself, Song Junyu couldn’t help but frown at the sight of the girl’s bruised and battered body. The dark purple strangulation marks around her neck were particularly horrifying. It was a miracle the girl had survived such fatal injuries and managed to escape…

Song Junyu averted her gaze after a single glance. Adjusting the small puppet beside her, she cast a spell to command it to assist the girl in washing up, then turned her back and began meditating.

Time passed swiftly in meditation. It felt like only a moment had gone by when the puppet’s “wah-wah” sounds alerted her. Knowing the girl had soaked long enough, Song Junyu turned around. The puppet had already dressed the girl. Through the misty haze, when Song Junyu caught sight of the girl’s face—still youthful yet already hinting at breathtaking beauty—her eyes widened slightly in surprise.