Collecting Disciples for a Hundred Years [Transmigration] - Chapter 6

Song Junyu had now reached the middle stage of Foundation Establishment. In a way, she no longer needed to sleep for extended periods.

Yet, she still insisted on resting briefly each day.

This world had descended into a certain kind of madness: internal strife among the immortal sects, demonic factions lying in wait, everyone constantly on edge, expending all their energy to eliminate rivals, racking their brains to attain higher cultivation, terrified of falling behind. Few could pause to look around and reflect on their own path.

In her modern life, Song Junyu had once fallen into a similar state. She always felt driven by something, studying day and night, desperate to prove herself to her adoptive mother and the grandparents who had abandoned her. Gradually, she became trapped in a vicious cycle of self-validation, her mindset fraught with anxiety, until she fell seriously ill from overexertion.

“Why do you need to prove yourself to others?” Her adoptive mother, merely a dishwasher in a restaurant, spoke with profound wisdom.

“People are truly strange. They burden themselves with all sorts of constraints for various reasons. Life is already so short, yet they often focus their energy on meaningless pursuits, only to regret it when it’s too late.”

“Even a string, if stretched taut all day, will lose its elasticity—how much more so a person?”

After recovering from her illness, though Song Junyu remained diligent, she rarely felt that restless anxiety again. She gradually became as optimistic as her adoptive mother, cherishing each day they spent together. She worked part-time to support her studies, bought her mother many gifts, and took her to every place she had ever wanted to visit.

Thus, when her adoptive mother eventually passed away from illness and Song Junyu, disoriented, drove off a cliff and transmigrated into this book, looking back on her modern life, she had no regrets.

The original novel she transmigrated into had been recommended by her adoptive mother on her sickbed. Though unsure why her mother favored such an unremarkable story, Song Junyu read it carefully several times to share common topics with her ailing mother, memorizing most of its plot.

Now, in hindsight, it seemed destined—a continuation of her adoptive mother’s protection. In this new world, her knowledge of the plot had helped her avoid numerous dangers.

Song Junyu dreamed of her childhood, trailing behind her adoptive mother, carefully gauging her moods, afraid of being abandoned once more.

Waking from dreams of her beloved mother, Song Junyu felt uplifted. She opened her eyes, turned her head slightly, and saw Ji Chan sitting straight-backed behind the desk, engrossed in a book.

At this moment, Ji Chan reminded her of her former self.

Ji Chan’s experiences were far more arduous than hers had been, so it was understandable that she had been so tense and guarded these past few days.

Song Junyu knew she would have to strive even harder than her adoptive mother had to help Ji Chan lower her defenses and grow up happy and carefree.

–

Afterward, Song Junyu began earnestly studying texts on artifact forging.

She postponed her originally scheduled forging plans, deciding to wait until Ji Chan had settled in before secluding herself for the work.

Ji Chan read swiftly. By the afternoon, when Song Junyu took her out of the library, she had already finished the books given to her that morning.

Song Junyu selected several more for her.

Early the next morning, when Song Junyu went to fetch her, Ji Chan was already seated by the window.

She was absorbed in reading, having nearly finished all the books Song Junyu had chosen the previous day—only one remained unread.

Song Junyu had grown accustomed to Ji Chan’s diligence and took her to find Elder Wan Qing once more.

This time, they didn’t even get to see Elder Wan Qing’s face. The moment he spotted Song Junyu from afar, he slammed his door shut with a loud bang, deliberately making a racket as if afraid she wouldn’t notice.

Song Junyu raised an eyebrow but didn’t knock. Instead, she plastered over a dozen voice-transmitting talismans on Elder Wan Qing’s door. Once he opened it, a chorus of Song Junyu’s inquiries would ring out one after another.

“Elder Wan, Elder Wan, when will Xiao Chan be registered in the sect’s disciple roster?”

…

After setting up the talismans, Song Junyu took Ji Chan into the bamboo grove on the back mountain.

She carved a small wooden sword for Ji Chan and demonstrated the most basic sword techniques, instructing her to follow along.

Song Junyu had prepared herself to teach Ji Chan repeatedly, but to her surprise, Ji Chan’s talent was on par with her previous two disciples. After just one demonstration, Ji Chan memorized all the movements and began practicing them over and over.

At first, Ji Chan’s swordplay was a bit stiff, but she quickly picked up speed, executing the moves with precision, as if she were no beginner.

Such an ability to grasp everything at a glance.

Song Junyu couldn’t help but marvel at her luck in taking on disciples: one after another, each blessed with such prodigious talent!

It was a pity, though, that Ji Chan couldn’t harness spiritual power—otherwise, she would surely become a renowned figure across the three realms.

Still, once Ji Chan mastered the basic sword techniques, combined with talismans and medical skills, she would be able to defend herself against ordinary cultivators in times of danger.

Amid the slender green bamboo, the young girl in white practiced earnestly, her movements both agile and graceful. Song Junyu had no worries about her slacking off. After teaching Ji Chan twice as many sword moves as originally planned, Song Junyu leaped lightly into the air, reclined against a bamboo stalk, and pulled out a book with a worn cover titled Medical Canon, reading it intently.

Had anyone looked over her shoulder, they would have realized it was no medical text at all. The pages inside were crisp and new, clearly the latest popular fiction from the market.

This was a method Song Junyu had employed for nearly a century. Back when she took in her first disciple—a cold, aloof prodigy—Song Junyu had felt too inadequate to read fiction openly in her presence and came up with this trick.

Her first and second disciples had mastered the foundational sword techniques of the cultivation world in just a month, after which they relied on their own insights. Song Junyu had initially thought she would need to teach Ji Chan longer, but now it seemed Ji Chan would likely grasp most of the sword moves within a month as well.

Time flew by when she was engrossed in her novels. Aside from the occasional struggle to suppress laughter at exciting parts, there were no real downsides.

But Song Junyu was well-practiced. Unlike when teaching her first disciple, she now had better control. Throughout the day’s training, she only laughed twice, cleverly disguising her amusement as praise for Ji Chan.

“That move was truly well-executed!”

“Xiao Chan, you’re amazing!”

Unlike the previous two disciples, whose gazes always made Song Junyu feel as if she had been seen through, this time, although Ji Chan also pursed her lips and glanced at her like the others, the girl was still young. Song Junyu wasn’t worried about being exposed at all and responded with a bright, beaming smile.

As expected, Ji Chan grew shy again, lowering her head to resume practicing her sword.

–

On the third day, when Song Junyu went to find Elder Wan, the elder had already slipped away, leaving a note at the door that read, “Don’t come looking for me, you little rascal!”

On the fourth day, when Song Junyu went again, Elder Wan, still groggy from a hangover, grabbed her sword and fought with Song Junyu. Unable to win, Song Junyu quickly fled after tossing an “itching talisman” at Elder Wan.

On the fifth, sixth, and seventh days, Song Junyu didn’t dare to seek out Elder Wan, as the itching talisman caused a rash that lasted for three days.

On the eighth day, Elder Wan came looking for Song Junyu and gave her a beating. It wasn’t until Song Junyu tugged at her sleeve and wailed, “Most beautiful Elder Wan, my dear mother, please stop hitting me!” that Elder Wan spared her face.

…

It wasn’t until Lin Ying returned to the mountain sect that, at Song Junyu’s pleading, the stern-faced junior sister went to find Elder Wan. On the tenth day, when Song Junyu showed up with wine and a flattering expression, Elder Wan’s brow twitched, but she finally allowed Song Junyu inside.

“Have you thought this through?!”

Even though her attitude had softened, Elder Wan’s words remained sharp: “Song Junyu, you’ve taken on a useless disciple who’s only good-looking! When she grows up and can’t contribute spirit stones to the sect, all her expenses will fall on you! Can you afford that?”

Song Junyu coughed dryly, feeling somewhat guilty. After all, her own contributions to the sect hadn’t been substantial over the years, and she often relied on Elder Qian Ping’s support to make ends meet.

But she was no longer the old Song Junyu—she was now Song Junyu, the artifact forger! As long as she continued to craft useful magical tools, she would have enough spirit stones to support Ji Chan!

“I understand, and I’m willing to take responsibility!” Song Junyu nodded firmly, her voice resolute.

Clearly not expecting such a response, Elder Wan glanced at her. Song Junyu flashed a bright smile, gazing at her eagerly. Elder Wan snorted coldly and turned to walk into the inner chamber. “Follow me!”

Song Junyu took Ji Chan’s hand and followed Elder Wan into the inner chamber.

Though Elder Wan’s courtyard didn’t seem particularly large, the inner chamber was a different world altogether—a vast cave filled with thousands of jade tablets, each inscribed with a name. Ji Chan recognized many of the names from books she had read recently.

At the very front of the jade tablets, several lamps glowed brightly.

The layers of tablets above were covered in a grayish hue, with deep cracks running across them. Only a few tablets in the bottom rows remained intact, emitting a warm, jade-like glow.

These jade tablets were life tablets. A shining tablet meant the person was still alive, while a cracked, dull tablet signified that the person had passed away.

Standing in this place, feeling the weight of Qing Ping Sect’s legacy, even though she had been here more than once, Song Junyu couldn’t help but straighten her back. She led Ji Chan to kneel before the tablets and bowed respectfully.

“This is our founding master, who, out of compassion for the suffering of the people, gave up ascension to establish our Qing Ping Sect in the mortal world.”

“This is Daoist Feng Qing, who sacrificed his body to forge a sword to save the people of an entire county but was misunderstood by the world. It took a hundred years for his name to be cleared.”

“This is Fairy Wu Yang, who single-handedly abolished the system of commoners’ tributes and medicinal slaves, and was secretly killed by treacherous individuals.”

“This is Master Xun Zhen, who, in a desperate situation to purge the traitors within the sect, comprehended the ‘Shanhe Bian’ technique and eliminated the betrayers.”

…

Elder Wan expressionlessly introduced Ji Chan to the influential figures in Qing Ping Sect’s history who had stirred up storms.

Once she finished, Song Junyu respectfully presented a jade tablet inscribed with the name “Ji Chan.”

“Disciples of Qing Ping Sect must cultivate with sincerity, support fellow sect members, respect their masters, take the safety of the common people as their own responsibility, and dedicate their lives to protecting the peace of the world. They must uphold good deeds, oppose evil, and promote the righteous path.”

“Ji Chan,” Elder Wan lowered her head, her tone somber, subtly exerting pressure on Ji Chan. “Can you do this?”

Ji Chan felt as if a mountain range of immense weight had descended upon her shoulders, pressing her entire body to the ground. Song Junyu, standing nearby, noticed nothing amiss and only saw Ji Chan suddenly collapse. Worried, she called out, “Xiao Chan?”

Elder Wan stopped Song Junyu from assisting.

Meeting Song Junyu’s concerned gaze, Ji Chan looked up and locked eyes with Elder Wan’s scrutinizing stare. Recalling the efforts she had made during this time, she gritted her teeth, mustering all the strength in her body. Slowly, she shifted the mountain off her shoulders, gradually kneeling upright, and nodded.

“At least you have some perseverance,” Elder Wan scoffed lightly, turning to Song Junyu. “I originally thought you only cared about appearances.”

Song Junyu didn’t respond to the remark, instead letting out an awkward laugh and reminding her, “Elder Wan, the life tablet!”

Elder Wan turned around, finally releasing the pressure, and placed the jade tablet inscribed with Ji Chan’s name on the bottom row.

The bottom row already held two life tablets—one inscribed with “Song Ge” and the other with “Du Shuang.”

Strangely, although both tablets bore obvious cracks, they still emitted a faint, lingering glow.

“These are your two senior sisters,” Elder Wan said with ill intent, noticing Ji Chan’s gaze fixed on the tablets. “Both were exceptionally talented, true geniuses. Unfortunately, heaven envies the gifted. One of your senior sisters entered the demon realm and never returned, while the other was struck down by heavenly lightning. It seems they were unwilling to accept their fate—though their lives ended and their life lamps extinguished, their life tablets refuse to go out…”

“But you’re just a little waste. I doubt you’ll die so early. At the very least, you should be able to accompany your master for a hundred years.”

Ji Chan glanced at Song Junyu, who pressed her lips together, the usual smile at the corners of her mouth absent for the first time.

Unlike Song Junyu’s silence, Elder Wan finally smiled, having successfully provoked her. She placed Ji Chan’s life tablet in the bottom row and lit the life lamp.

“Little waste, from now on, you are a disciple of Qing Ping Sect!”

Elder Wan turned, wrote Ji Chan’s name in the disciple registry, and, not wishing to linger in the inner chamber, led the two out.

As they reached the door, Ji Chan couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but among the densely packed, gray and withered tablets above, it seemed as though a faint glimmer of light flashed by.