Collecting Disciples for a Hundred Years [Transmigration] - Chapter 4

“In martial arts, speed is the ultimate weapon.”

This saying holds true even for sword cultivators in the realm of cultivation.

Since ancient times, sword cultivators have been the most numerous in the cultivation world. On one hand, once a sword cultivator reaches a certain level, they no longer need external aids—their very being becomes a weapon. On the other hand, even if a cultivator lacks innate talent, years of relentless sword practice can elevate their skills to such heights that they can challenge opponents far beyond their own level. Thus, no one dares to underestimate a sword cultivator.

Song Junyu had previously considered the idea of having Ji Chan embark on the path of cultivation. After all, Ji Chan’s face was far too dangerous to leave in the mortal world. Even if Ji Chan couldn’t harness spiritual energy, mastering sword techniques would still allow her to protect herself.

Moreover, the cultivation world wasn’t limited to just sword techniques. While training in swordsmanship, Ji Chan could also study other disciplines like formations, talismans, or mechanical arts.

But back then, Ji Chan had seemed far too delicate.

She had already suffered so much. If she were to tread the arduous path of cultivation, given her constitution, she would undoubtedly endure even greater hardships. Song Junyu couldn’t bear to see her suffer further. Besides, Ji Chan herself had chosen to return to the mortal world, and Song Junyu thought it might be for the best if she could live a peaceful, ordinary life. So, she abandoned the idea of keeping Ji Chan in the cultivation world.

Song Junyu never expected that, just half a month later, her worst fears would come true. Ji Chan’s beauty had attracted unwanted attention.

Seeing the hairpin pressed against Ji Chan’s cheek, Song Junyu’s heart leaped into her throat!

At that moment, she was reminded of her past life in the modern world: after her parents’ deaths, she had been driven out of her home by her grandfather. Exhausted and starving in the pouring rain, she had reached out for a loaf of bread in a bakery, only to be grabbed by the collar by a shopkeeper.

“Don’t you dare yell at her! You’re scaring my child!”

To this day, Song Junyu still remembered the humiliation and terror of that moment. If her adoptive mother hadn’t stepped forward to pay for the bread and later taken her in, providing her with an education, she had no idea what might have become of her in that life. Perhaps she would have sunk into the depths like worthless mud, or vanished without a trace in some forgotten corner of the world.

She had tasted the bitterness of life, but she had also been blessed with the purest kindness. That was why she was willing to pass on that kindness to others whenever she could.

Now, Ji Chan wasn’t even afraid of disfigurement—how could she possibly fear the trials and tribulations of cultivation?

In that instant, Song Junyu’s desire to take Ji Chan as her disciple was rekindled. In the original story, the male and female leads had merely praised the Qing Ping Sect for its extraordinary bearing. But who said extraordinary bearing had to come from exceptional cultivation? With Ji Chan’s peerless beauty, she could easily capture the attention of the protagonists at the Immortal Sect Tournament.

Now, it all depended on Ji Chan’s own choice!

Under Song Junyu’s gaze, Ji Chan pursed her lips, seemingly caught off guard. Her beautiful eyes were filled with confusion.

Song Junyu didn’t rush her. Instead, she patiently laid out her plan:

“Even if your body can’t accumulate spiritual energy, there might be other methods in the future. Besides, cultivation isn’t limited to just sword techniques. At the very least, if you learn some basic self-defense, ordinary people won’t dare to bully you so easily in the future.”

“As for the rest, you don’t need to worry,” Song Junyu thought the child was meticulous and might refuse to return with her out of fear of burdening her. So, she picked up the bulging spirit stone pouch and showed it to her with a smile. “You’re my little lucky star. Ever since I met you, I’ve earned quite a few spirit stones. You can follow me and cultivate in peace. I can certainly afford to take care of you.”

As Song Junyu spoke, Ji Chan bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering with countless emotions, but the hairpin in her hand slowly lowered.

Song Junyu walked over, took the hairpin, and held her hand. Ji Chan closed her eyes but didn’t resist.

Since waking up, the time she had spent by Song Junyu’s side had been the most stable period of her life. And the future Song Junyu painted for her was a beautiful illusion she had never dared to imagine.

Though her instincts screamed disbelief, Song Junyu’s words were like a bowl of delicious food offered to a starving person. Even if it might be poisoned, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

Was Song Junyu really not lying to her?

…

She quietly followed Song Junyu outside, taking a few steps before seeing the moon as large as a plate in the sky, the men lying haphazardly on the ground, and Song Junyu’s flying sword hovering in the courtyard. A sense of unreality still filled her heart. By the time she realized it, she had already stopped walking and tugged at Song Junyu’s hand—

“Why?”

She unfolded Song Junyu’s palm and carefully wrote the question stroke by stroke.

A mute who couldn’t cultivate, someone with no value to exploit—why would Song Junyu want to take her in?

Song Junyu lowered her head, watching attentively as she wrote in her palm. When she finished, Song Junyu broke into a smile.

Perhaps the moonlight that night was simply too beautiful, casting Song Junyu’s face in an ethereal glow. Ji Chan stared at her smiling face and suddenly felt dazed.

“No reason,” Song Junyu said, tilting her head slightly and smiling as she took her hand again, continuing forward. “But if I had to give one—”

She glanced at Ji Chan, her lips curving once more.

“Maybe it’s because you brought me good luck, and you’re so lovely to look at. Just seeing you makes me happy!”

?!

Ji Chan pricked up her ears, listening carefully to Song Junyu’s words, weighing all the pros and cons—only to hear such an answer!

Her ears instantly turned crimson, the heat spreading from her earlobes to her entire face. Yet the laughter in the woman’s eyes was like strands of moonlight enveloping her, impossible to escape.

This feeling was unbearably awkward.

Ji Chan huffed, biting her lip as she angrily lowered her head: Of course, a woman with such a pretty smile was nothing but a liar, spouting nonsense without a shred of truth.

She shouldn’t have asked!

–

Seeing Ji Chan shyly bow her head, Song Junyu decided not to tease her further, knowing the girl was bashful. After leaving some silver for the elderly couple who had taken Ji Chan in and a sound-transmitting talisman to explain the situation, Song Junyu summoned her flying sword and set off with Ji Chan toward Qing Ping Sect.

Along the way, Song Junyu formally introduced Ji Chan to the current state of Qing Ping Sect—

“The highest cultivation in our Qing Ping Sect belongs to my father, the sect leader Yue Lin. He has been in seclusion for nearly a hundred years, attempting to break through to the Nascent Soul stage. Below him are two elders: Elder Qian Ping, who oversees daily affairs, recently left the mountain, and Elder Wan Qing, who is in charge of disciple instruction. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to borrow some beginner cultivation books from her. Elder Wan Qing has a strict temperament, so if she says anything unpleasant, don’t take it to heart…”

“Next is my generation: After my father entered seclusion, I temporarily took over as sect leader. Above me is my senior brother, Zheng Fu, who should return to the sect in a few days. My junior brother, Ji Yang, is in seclusion attempting to form his Golden Core and likely won’t emerge for another year or so. You’ve already met my junior sister, Lin Ying. Elder Qian Ping never took any disciples, while Elder Wan Qing has two, but they’re often traveling and rarely return to the sect…”

“Among my peers, I’m the only one who has taken disciples,” Song Junyu paused here, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “Before you, I had two disciples. My eldest disciple entered the demon realm, and her fate remains unknown. The second advanced too quickly, failed her Golden Core tribulation, and perished under heavenly lightning.”

“Xiao Chan,” Song Junyu turned to face Ji Chan, meeting her slightly startled gaze with a solemn expression. “I’m not a particularly skilled master, and our sect has long been in decline. If you ever find a better path or another opportunity in the future, you’re free to pursue it. Nothing is more important than living well. As long as you’re healthy and happy, that’s all that matters.”

“But before you go after what you desire, I hope you’ll let me know. That’s my only request of you.”

Song Junyu studied the tiny red mole at the corner of Ji Chan’s eye and, after a moment’s thought, spoke again.

Perhaps it was fate. The placement of that mole was nearly identical to those of her first and second disciples. Both had come to her in their mid-teens, already with well-formed worldviews, exceptional talent, and deeply guarded thoughts. Back then, aside from tending to their daily needs, Song Junyu often felt she had little to teach them, leaving her somewhat awkward in their presence.

She had reflected many times: If she had intervened more in their lives, if she had understood their thoughts better, would things have turned out differently?

Those two brilliant souls—had they lived to this day, they might have made names for themselves in the cultivation world. Instead, they were now remembered only by those in Qing Ping Sect.

It had been a long time since Song Junyu thought of them, and the memories brought a pang of sorrow. She resolved to visit the site of her second disciple’s passing in a few days to leave flowers. Just then, she felt a sudden squeeze on her palm.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she saw Ji Chan sneeze twice, then grip her hand a little tighter, as if embarrassed.

Meeting Song Junyu’s gaze, Ji Chan straightened her small face and nodded solemnly.

–

Under the starry night, the sky so close it felt within reach, the cool evening breeze dispelled the summer’s lingering heat. Song Junyu soon shook off her melancholy and, pointing to the constellations above, began piecing together stories for Ji Chan.

She adapted some names and told stories like “Mulan Joins the Army” and “Hongfu’s Night Escape.” Tilting her head, she noticed Ji Chan listening with rapt attention, which greatly encouraged her. She went on to share several more tales from this world about the rise of women. Time flew by as they talked, and after finishing a few stories, Song Junyu took Ji Chan back to Qing Ping Gate.

“I’ll tell you more when I have time later!”

It was the first time someone had been willing to listen to her ramble for so long. The more Song Junyu looked at Ji Chan, the more she found her sweet and adorable. She tidied up an empty room in her courtyard for Ji Chan, fetched water to help her wash up, and only returned to her own room after seeing Ji Chan close her eyes to sleep.

Song Junyu didn’t go to bed right away.

Now that she had a disciple to raise, earning spirit stones became a top priority.

First, she sorted out the materials for artifact refining, then picked through her belongings to find a few barely presentable gifts, which she placed in her Qiankun pouch.

Tomorrow, she would take Ji Chan to Elder Wan Qing to formalize the apprenticeship, requiring the elder to record Ji Chan in the sect’s disciple registry and light her life lamp.

She hoped that, for the sake of the gifts, Elder Wan Qing might go easy on Ji Chan tomorrow and not be too harsh with his words.