I Failed to Reform the Protagonist [Transmigration] - Chapter 22

After reading, Pei Jing fell into deep thought.

In the past, Chen Xu had suggested that he find a Daoist companion, but he had always laughed it off and declined.

Now, after staying at Yinghui Peak for several months without making any progress in his cultivation, he began to ponder the feasibility of the idea—undergoing a “trial of love” was, after all, a form of entering the mortal world. However, after thinking it over for a while, he shook his head in disagreement.

Seeking a romantic connection purely for a specific purpose felt unfair to the other person. Besides, if he were to be honest about it, it would sound even more ridiculous. How would he say it? — “My Master wants me to return to simplicity and experience the seven emotions and six desires. I figure dating you might yield some results; what do you think?”

Pei Jing thought about it and laughed out loud. What could they think? Likely, no one would agree to that.

He decided to leave it to fate; matters of the heart should never be forced.

He slowly released the rice paper in his hand, letting it roll back into the sea of thousands of scrolls. Pei Jing had another reason for visiting the Heaven Pavilion today. Using his divine sense, he slowly wrote three characters on a sheet of paper: “Thousand-Faced Woman.” Ji Wuduan only had a superficial understanding of the events in Tianya City. In a place as diverse as the Heaven Pavilion, he wondered if any hidden experts might know something.

Even though his Master had cautioned him repeatedly, Pei Jing felt that one day, he would have to take a trip to Tianya City.

His gaze followed the rising scrolls. Within the Heaven Pavilion, the sea of books floated with a golden light. Slowly, Pei Jing’s heart began to settle into a state of tranquility.

The Future Plans

Leaving the library and returning to Yinghui Peak, it was a rest day. Most disciples were focused on their cultivation. After all, the battle that would determine their future paths was fast approaching. Even among the Outer Seventy-Two Peaks, there were rankings of Upper, Middle, and Lower grades. If one performed brilliantly in this battle, they might be scouted by a Golden Core Elder of an outer peak and be taken in as a direct disciple.

One day after the noon lesson, Pei Jing asked Chu Junyu about his plans for the future—specifically, which outer peak he wanted to join. He expected Chu Junyu to give a cold, indifferent answer like “whatever” or simply ignore him. Surprisingly, Chu Junyu lowered his eyes, remained quiet for a few seconds, and said, “What about Tianqian Peak?”

Pei Jing froze, nearly swallowing the candy in his mouth. He clutched his throat for a long time before recovering. He was both shocked and amused, feigning a look of disbelief and speaking in a voice full of simulated terror: “Are you crazy? Tianqian Peak is where the Sect Leader resides—you want to become the Sect Leader’s disciple?”

Chu Junyu lowered his head, his finger turning a page of his book. “Yes.”

Pei Jing: “The Sect Leader of Yunxiao only takes one disciple in his lifetime. If you’re like this, Pei Yuzhi won’t agree to it.”

Chu Junyu replied, “It has nothing to do with him.”

Pei Jing’s mouth twitched. “How does it have nothing to do with him?” Even if Master broke the rules to take you in, I wouldn’t acknowledge you as my Junior Brother.

Chu Junyu kept his head down. His pale eyes were pure and beautiful under the light, yet a thin layer of ice sat at the bottom of them. He said calmly, “If possible, I don’t want to see him for the rest of my life.”

Pei Jing was taken aback. “Why?”

Chu Junyu lowered his gaze. The youth’s face was so white it was almost translucent, his eyelashes were long, and his tone was utterly cold: “Stupid.”

Pei Jing: “…”

I really want to see what expression Chu Junyu makes once he finds out my true identity.

The Trials of Changtian

Pei Jing and Chu Junyu shared a room and a desk; in the eyes of outsiders, they were inseparable. Chu Junyu was a unique existence at Yinghui Peak—a “Flower on a High Ridge,” a powerhouse whom everyone feared and admired from afar.

Consequently, Pei Jing, who was close to him, became “special” as well, though in a different way. Besides the label of having “entered through the back door,” he now wore the hat of a “sycophant.”

When Xu Jing secretly told him about these rumors, Pei Jing had only one reaction: “Are you people really that bored?”

Xu Jing: “…I’ve been paying special attention to what they say about you and trying to explain, but they won’t listen.”

Pei Jing patted his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought. Go back and tell them to be careful during the Secret Realm trial before the Great Competition.”

Xu Jing asked blankly, “Why?”

Pei Jing smiled. “Because in the Secret Realm, beating up your fellow disciples carries no punishment.”

Xu Jing: “…”

The regulations of Yunxiao were rigid and unchanging. The sect selection required crossing the Hanging Bridge, and new disciples had to study at Yinghui Peak for a year. Even the Secret Realm trial before the Outer Peak Competition was a set rule.

The Secret Realm was located within Yunxiao and was called Changtian (Long Heaven). Legend said it was a grotto-heaven left behind by the Ancestor, Yunxiao Daoist, before his ascension. it was unpredictable and filled with countless treasures. Most disciples only had one chance in their life to enter Changtian: now, as they prepared to leave Yinghui Peak and officially join the outer peaks.

The effect of the Changtian Secret Realm varied from person to person. Some found great opportunities, while others merely enjoyed the scenery. Pei Jing remembered his first time entering Changtian; he had accidentally stumbled into a valley and encountered the Spirit of the Ancestor. He had met the Yunxiao Daoist twice—once on the Hanging Bridge and once in the Changtian Secret Realm. In a sense, he was the successor personally chosen by the Ancestor.

Before they departed, the Elder told them: “The Changtian Secret Realm was left by the Ancestor. There are no ferocious beasts or unknown dangers; it is very safe for you. Entering the realm is simply to give you a chance at an opportunity. If you find one, it is a cause for celebration; if not, there is no need to be discouraged. You will encounter countless secret realms on your future path of cultivation.”

The Near Miss

The Changtian Secret Realm was situated next to Wuji Peak, the number one peak of Yunxiao.

Sitting atop a Cloud Crane, many disciples were entering the Inner Peaks for the first time. Seeing the vast stretches of rosy clouds billowing over the mountains, they cried out in wonder. Someone pointed toward the morning sun at the most upright and steep peak in the center of Yunxiao, shouting, “That is Tianqian Peak!”

The disciples on the Cloud Cranes raised their heads in unison, their eyes filled with excitement and awe. From afar, Tianqian Peak looked like an unsheathed sword, the light on the summit appearing like a thin layer of snow.

Pei Jing remembered Chu Junyu’s words from that day. Although the kid spoke rudely, he was genuinely good to “Zhang Yiming.” Looking at Tianqian Peak, Pei Jing tilted his head and said to him, “Look, Tianqian Peak.”

Chu Junyu sat quietly, head down, wiping his long sword with a handkerchief. “Oh.”

Pei Jing raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the place you want to go? Your attitude is so cold.”

However, as he leaned closer, he was immediately drawn to the sword in Chu Junyu’s hand. The blade was clear and lustrous, as white as autumn frost, tinged with the red glow of the sunset. Unlike his overall cold demeanor, this sword looked like it belonged to a woman—the kind of woman who was gentle and refined, the blade as soft as autumn water.

Pei Jing, who usually believed that “the sword is the man,” was stunned. He rarely saw Chu Junyu use his sword, so he had never looked at it closely. In his few impressions, Chu Junyu’s strikes were incredibly fierce and bloody, completely at odds with the sword’s appearance.

He leaned in very close.

Just as Chu Junyu finished wiping the blade, he looked up, and his nose brushed against Pei Jing’s lips.

It was cool, like a snowflake falling between the lips.