Collecting Disciples for a Hundred Years [Transmigration] - Chapter 8

Early the next morning, Song Junyu ventured into the back mountain.

She followed the familiar path to the cave she had visited before, opened the artifact-forging furnace, and tossed all the materials in at once.

Many buyers had already placed orders for swords at the external artifact shops. If she were to forge them one by one, the process would be far too slow.

Last time, lacking experience, she had only managed to forge three swords in a single batch. But over this period, she had gained insights from that process and now aimed to attempt forging four swords in one go.

Although Song Junyu had already taken on disciples, by the standards of the cultivation world, she was still considered a junior. Had there been a master artifact forger by her side to offer guidance, she would have known that such an approach was extremely perilous. Even in sects dedicated to artifact forging, no novice would dare attempt this.

It was crucial to understand that once a magical artifact took shape, the forger needed to use their own spiritual energy to meticulously carve and inscribe patterns imbued with spiritual power above the artifact. Any slip-up during this process could result in being scorched by the spiritual flames, causing severe damage to one’s divine consciousness.

Just like last time, the artifacts gradually took form under the tempering of the spiritual flames. Song Junyu carved the first two swords with ease, but by the third, her movements began to slow. Halfway through forging the fourth sword, she faintly sensed danger. The roaring furnace flames seemed to sear her divine consciousness, and the chamber of the furnace felt increasingly hotter.

An instinctual alarm stirred within her.

Yet, with the arrow already nocked on the bowstring, abandoning the process midway would likely ruin the final sword. Moreover, the spiritual energy in her dantian was gradually depleting…

Though usually lazy, when pushed to the brink, Song Junyu possessed an innate tenacity. Gritting her teeth, she channeled her spiritual energy in small, careful streams, engaging in a strenuous tug-of-war with the spiritual flames inside the furnace as she painstakingly carved the runes onto the sword, stroke by stroke.

Just as the burning spiritual flames in the furnace began to inflict a tangible, stinging pain on her divine consciousness, Song Junyu completed the final rune!

She collapsed to the ground, only then belatedly struck by a wave of fear: she had come perilously close to having her divine consciousness scorched!

Most other cultivators would have grown wary at this point, perhaps even abandoning this path of cultivation. But Song Junyu, ignorant and thus fearless, and bolstered by a blind confidence in the Qing Ping Sect’s survival until the end as depicted in the plot, quickly regained her resolve.

The shapes and patterns of the first three swords were flawless, but the runes on the fourth sword were noticeably shallower than the others.

Naturally, Song Junyu wouldn’t allow such a subpar sword to enter the market and tarnish her reputation. Yet, unwilling to waste such excellent materials, she decisively decided to reforge it.

This time, with the reforged sword included, there were five swords in the furnace.

After restoring her spiritual energy, Song Junyu didn’t rush to forge the next sword. Instead, she reviewed the previous forging process and identified several areas where she had wasted spiritual energy.

In her next sword-forging session, she used every shred of spiritual energy with near-obsessive precision, carving each rune with just the right amount of force, and ultimately succeeded in forging five superior swords.

…

Song Junyu continued to dance on the edge of recklessness, increasing the number of swords from four to five, then six… By the time three months had passed and Lin Ying entered the cave on the agreed-upon day to collect the swords, she happened to witness Song Junyu forging eight swords in a single batch.

In the previous visits, Lin Ying would simply take the swords and leave, but this time she paused beside the exhausted Song Junyu and channeled some spiritual energy into her.

“Counterfeit swords have already appeared on the market,” Lin Ying said, her face showing clear indignation, though she knew nothing about sword forging and had no idea how astonishing the scene before her was. She relayed the message from the artifact shopkeeper: “The shopkeeper asked if we should lower our selling price…”

However, Song Junyu did not display the disappointment Lin Ying had anticipated.

She had long prepared for the possibility of counterfeits—after all, the runes on her swords weren’t particularly difficult to carve, and any dedicated artificer could replicate them perfectly with some practice.

But having come from the modern era and witnessed the cutthroat nature of business competition, she knew that innovation was the cornerstone of progress.

Thus, after recovering some of her spiritual energy, Song Junyu curved her lips slightly and retrieved a small bundle from the pile of swords behind her.

“It’s fine. These are newly crafted hidden weapons that can shoot Willow Thread Needles three times in moments of crisis. Pick one you like and keep it, then take the rest down the mountain to the shopkeeper. Once we sell this batch of swords, we’ll stop selling them and switch to other artifacts.”

Even though Lin Ying knew little about intricate mechanisms, her eyes widened slightly at these words. Willow Thread Needles were so fine they could rival willow catkins, and upon contact with the skin, they would swiftly merge into the body, damaging spiritual meridians. Even Golden Core stage cultivators sometimes had to avoid their sharpness.

Such needles could only be forged by master artificers and were notoriously rare and priceless.

There was no way her senior sister could afford to buy Willow Thread Needles for these hidden weapons, so…

Lin Ying’s eyes widened further as she recalled how Song Junyu had spent the past century buried in the library. For the first time, she vaguely realized that this senior sister—whom she had assumed was average in cultivation and needed her protection—might be far more formidable than she had imagined.

Lin Ying pursed her lips. Since joining Qing Ping Sect, her senior sister had been her first companion and had always treated her with immense kindness. She knew that Song Junyu had long dreamed of strengthening the sect, which was why she had taken on disciples time and again, only to grieve silently for years after the departure of the previous two.

It was witnessing Song Junyu’s sorrow that had fueled Lin Ying’s own determination to grow stronger. Though her talent might not match that of the two former disciples, Qing Ping Sect was her home, and her senior sister was family. She would never be as reckless as those two, disregarding her own life and causing her senior sister pain.

Lin Ying couldn’t help but tighten her grip on the hidden weapon.

She had thought she had grown strong enough to protect her senior sister, only to realize now that Song Junyu was still shielding her in other ways. She would have to strive even harder to keep up with her senior sister’s pace!

–

Song Junyu was unaware of Lin Ying’s thoughts.

After chatting with Lin Ying for a while, she once again settled into meditation, contemplating her recent insights into artifact forging while probing the peculiar fluctuations within her body.

For some reason, her spiritual energy had become increasingly unstable lately, requiring more time to regulate her meridians.

Forging the Willow Thread Needles had brought her joy, but she quickly tempered her excitement—such an achievement was insignificant in the eyes of true master artificers. After all, while few cultivators specialized in artifact forging, there were many outstanding masters in the field, the most renowned among them being the Buddhist monks of the Tower of Compassion.

The Buddhist Ascetic was a figure revered throughout the entire cultivation world, the only cultivator whose cultivation had reached the late stage of the Great Ascension, just one step away from ascension. Rumors outside claimed that the Buddhist Ascetic remained secluded year-round in the Tower of Compassion, never stepping out. Only Song Junyu, who knew the plot, was aware that the Buddhist Ascetic had taken on many identities to walk the mortal world.

In the original story, the Buddhist Ascetic was the female lead’s greatest advantage, as one of his external identities was Ge Yao’s master.

Not only was the Buddhist Ascetic immensely powerful, but he was also well-versed in medicine and artifact forging. The puppets commonly used in the cultivation world were actually his creations.

Song Junyu didn’t know what puppets from other sects were like. After all, the puppets in Qing Ping Sect had all been brought back by Elder Qian Ping. Judging by their adorably ugly appearances, they were likely discarded puppets from other sects. Yet even these cast-off puppets amazed Song Junyu with their functionality.

Thinking of the little puppet outside massaging her shoulders, Song Junyu grew restless.

Suppressing the chaotic spiritual energy within her body, she sat down once again before the artifact forge, intending to finish crafting the last batch of magical tools before ending her seclusion.

This final batch was for Ji Chan.

Ji Chan was still young and needed playmates her age. Since she had no spiritual power, Song Junyu wanted to forge a flying artifact for her, allowing Ji Chan to descend the mountain and play with her friends in Li Family Village.

Now, Song Junyu no longer feared that Ji Chan would encounter danger. Lin Ying had casually mentioned Ji Chan earlier, praising her formidable sword aura. For the arrogant Lin Ying to offer such praise, it was clear that Ji Chan’s swordsmanship had reached a highly refined level. If she encountered any petty troublemakers among mortals, Ji Chan could handle them herself.

For this artifact, Song Junyu put in considerable effort. In the end, she crafted a small boat—exquisitely designed and compact. It could normally be shrunk and stored in a storage pouch. By reciting an incantation, the boat would enlarge, capable of carrying two or three people as it flew through the air.

Song Junyu was extremely pleased with the result.

She stored the boat away, feeling proud and satisfied as she prepared to end her seclusion. But as she stood up, her eyes widened in shock.

—She was about to advance to the next stage!

–

Typically, cultivators needed a moment of enlightenment to advance. Song Junyu primarily cultivated the sword path, but recently, she had been preoccupied with forging artifacts to earn money, neglecting her main cultivation. Although her spiritual energy had frequently become chaotic during this time, she hadn’t considered the possibility of advancement.

Could insights gained from artifact forging also lead to advancement?

Song Junyu felt she had stumbled upon something remarkable…

She cleared her mind, guiding her spiritual energy to circulate slowly through her body. Her meridians gradually expanded, and her dantian grew increasingly vast. At the critical moment of confronting her inner demons, a face surfaced in her mind—one of transcendent beauty, cold and aloof, yet strikingly captivating even in disarray.

—It was her eldest disciple, Song Ge.

That single glance Song Ge had cast from afar in the crowd years ago was something Song Junyu had never been able to forget.

Unexpected, yet inevitable—Song Ge had become her inner demon.

…

Song Junyu had no idea how many days had passed. She only knew that when she finally overcame her inner demons with great difficulty and advanced to the late Foundation Establishment stage, the world outside was blanketed in white, with heavy snow falling.

It was already deep into the night.

Song Junyu rode her sword back to her small courtyard. Under the hazy glow of the lanterns, a girl sat by the window of the adjacent room.

The girl’s profile was as beautiful as a painting, with a small red mole at the corner of her eye that added to her vivid charm.

“Song Ge?”

Still trapped in the chaotic illusions conjured by her inner demons, Song Junyu couldn’t help but widen her eyes and call out instinctively.

The atmosphere instantly grew heavy and stagnant.

Song Junyu immediately realized she had called out to the wrong person: Ji Chan, who had been engrossed in her book, lifted her gaze and looked toward Song Junyu.

After so long apart, Ji Chan had clearly grown taller and her features had matured, which was why Song Junyu had mistaken her in a moment of distraction.

Though there was no discernible emotion in Ji Chan’s eyes, Song Junyu felt inexplicably guilty under her gaze for some reason.

Ji Chan’s expression reminded her of her second disciple, who was always eager to compete with her missing senior apprentice.

If it had been the second disciple, she would surely have retorted with a sarcastic remark by now!

Fortunately, the one before her was the gentle and obedient Ji Chan.

“Xiao Chan!” Song Junyu breathed an inward sigh of relief, forcing an awkward laugh as she tried to gloss over her mistake. Suddenly, her own voice rang out from outside.

“Xiao Chan! It’s time for bed…”

Had it already reached Hai hour?

Hearing the commotion outside, the young girl reading by the window pursed her lips slightly and withdrew her gaze from Song Junyu.

With a practiced motion, she flicked her wrist, and a crumpled paper ball flew out through the window, landing squarely in the mouth of the rabbit lantern, muffling Song Junyu’s voice emanating from within…

As Song Junyu raised an eyebrow in surprise, Ji Chan did not look at her again. Instead, she straightened slightly and, with a sharp thud, shut the window.