When the Immortal Venerable Picked-Up the Demon Cub - Chapter 33

Zhu Ning carefully crouched down, brushed the dust off the books, and began flipping through them page by page.

Because the books were so old, a simple dusting wasn’t enough. As she turned the pages, she often coughed from the dust.

The little red cat seemed to understand. Despite how dirty it was, it would roll around on the books to wipe off the dust for Zhu Ning, then scurry to a corner to shake off the dirt clinging to its fur.

Zhu Ning watched for a long time, finding it quite amusing. She silently memorized the scene before focusing on the books. Some taught divination methods, others introduced new sword techniques, and a few even detailed special talisman-drawing techniques.

Though the texts were difficult to understand, Zhu Ning cherished them like treasures. She knew that to truly grow, she needed to keep learning throughout her life. Cultivation was important, but mastering skills others lacked was key to earning respect.

When she was in the Pocket Dimension, Zhu Ning’s spiritual sense was being drained. She felt it growing faint, as if it couldn’t hold on much longer, so she quickly retreated. As soon as she returned to her body, her eyelids grew heavy. Whether she wanted to sleep or not, she had no choice.

In her hazy dreams, Zhu Ning seemed to receive guidance from a great master. Though she had previously understood nothing of these matters, after this instruction, it was as if her Ren and Du meridians had been unblocked.

Not only did her internal cultivation flow smoothly, but she could also recite talismans and formations effortlessly. Zhu Ning found it all too fantastical, utterly impossible to be her own doing, and could only feel envy.

She even wondered why her dream self was so powerful.

Perhaps because she had spent too long in the Pocket Dimension, Zhu Ning was utterly exhausted. She slept through the afternoon and night, her dreams filled with envy, not waking until dawn the next day.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring directly into Lin Xiayan’s gaze. Lin Xiayan, now in the body of a young girl, had to stand on tiptoe and lean over the bed to look at her. Zhu Ning realized she had slept from the afternoon until the next morning, skipping dinner entirely. As soon as she woke up, her stomach felt hollow and empty.

“Hungry?” Lin Xiayan noticed Zhu Ning’s expression, understanding her even better than the worms in her stomach. She guessed Zhu Ning’s thoughts immediately.

Zhu Ning’s face was flushed from her long sleep. Hiding under the covers, she nodded and gave Lin Xiayan an expectant look. Though Lin Xiayan hadn’t intended to help, she slowly walked over, picked up the breakfast she’d reheated on the table, and placed several plates on Zhu Ning’s bedside table.

“Is that injury still bothering you? You can’t even get out of bed?” Lin Xiayan asked, her voice teasing. Zhu Ning, thoroughly embarrassed, sat up and began eating her breakfast in small bites.

Lin Xiayan didn’t leave, standing there watching Zhu Ning eat. Even someone with the strongest nerves would find it hard to bear such scrutiny.

Zhu Ning felt like she was sitting on pins and needles during the meal. Before she could swallow her last bite, a knock sounded at the gate of Mùdōng Courtyard. Resigned, Zhu Ning went to answer it, only to learn that the competition was about to begin.

Wait, the competition… Zhu Ning’s foggy mind cleared instantly. How could the competition be starting so soon? She scrambled to change into her Daoist robes, which were plain and unadorned, lacking even golden trim. Yet they only enhanced her ethereal beauty. With no time to spare, Zhu Ning hastily arranged her hair into a simple bun, without any hairpins. A few strands of her ink-black hair fell loose, softening her features and adding to her gentle charm. Forgetting to check her reflection, she rushed out.

Before the competition, all participating disciples had to register and be assigned numbers in the Grand Hall. By the time Zhu Ning left her room, the sun was already nearing its zenith. She wiped away a cold sweat, figuring the Chief Disciples must have already started the registration process.

The competition was scheduled to begin officially after lunch, but it was already nearly noon. Zhu Ning felt terribly guilty, wondering which Sect Leader could possibly oversleep at this hour.

When she finally arrived at the Grand Hall, it wasn’t as chaotic as she’d imagined. Zhu Ning took a deep breath, lifted her skirt, and stepped inside. A sharp-eyed disciple immediately announced her arrival to the others, and all eyes turned toward the entrance, as if they’d caught her red-handed for being late to work.

Zhu Ning was so embarrassed she wanted to disappear. She nearly covered her face and ran, but thankfully, she remembered she had to maintain her image as the aloof Immortal Venerable. With a “composed” expression, she walked to the center of the hall.

“How is the roster coming along?” Zhu Ning asked, accepting the tea a junior disciple offered. “This is a major event for Yun Cang Mountain, held only every few years. We can’t afford to be careless.” Wen Ge, the elder in charge of the roster, stood beside her, holding the scroll and repeatedly assuring her that everything was foolproof.

Zhu Ning nodded in satisfaction, but soon realized that her presence here served little purpose. She mostly just watched the disciples busy themselves.

When Wen Ge finally presented the roster, Zhu Ning barely glanced at it before confidently handing it back for him to continue processing.

She then retrieved a book from her spiritual sense and began reading. The obscure, difficult text was perfect for passing the time. After lunch and enduring the polite greetings from the elders of the other five sects, the competition finally began.

Since there was no set time for the competition to end, Zhu Ning wasn’t in a hurry as she walked toward the arena. She even detoured back to Mùdōng Courtyard to grab a few plates of jujube cakes and invited Lin Xiayan to join her on the way.

When Zhu Ning arrived, she realized how little she knew. Yun Cang Mountain might seem like just a few peaks from the outside, but its inner layout was intricately interconnected. Take the arena, for example: not only was it spacious and prominent, but it also stood in the middle of a vast lake. Even in the dead of winter, the lake hadn’t frozen over. When she dipped her hand into the water, it wasn’t bone chillingly cold; it felt more like warm water.

If a disciple found themselves outmatched, they could jump into the lake to automatically concede. Of course, a competitor could also win by knocking their opponent into the water.

Zhu Ning found this rule remarkably humane. Across from the arena, not far away, stood six pavilions of equal height. Judging by their positioning and size, they were likely reserved for spectators.

The most ornate and exquisite pavilion was probably Zhu Ning’s.

Sure enough, Wen Ge, the Chief Disciple, arrived to escort Zhu Ning to her seat. The pavilion was lavishly stocked with pastries and fruits. With six pavilions for the six sects, the other disciples dispersed to find their own viewing spots.

Next, Zhu Ning rose to introduce the day’s competition.

She picked up the prepared announcement from the pastry table. The square of paper was neatly folded, and she unfolded it to read aloud: “The Yun Cang Mountain Grand Gathering has brought together outstanding disciples from our six sects for today’s competition. The six sects are Yun Cang Mountain, Zhen Sui Mountain, Xiu Ling Valley, Heyuan Sect, Fu Pavilion, and Jian Pavilion. These sects are evenly matched in strength, but demonic ghosts have been appearing frequently at the foot of the mountain. To set an example, regardless of today’s competition results, This Venerable One will lead two personal disciples down the mountain to quell the unrest. We hope the other sects will also send their victorious disciples from today’s competition to contribute to this vital task.”

As Zhu Ning continued reading, she noticed something odd. The names of the later sects seemed so carelessly written. In the original novel, only Yun Cang Mountain and Zhen Sui Mountain had appeared. To her surprise, the other sect names were just as haphazardly crafted.

Fortunately, this wasn’t like modern events with lengthy preambles. Zhu Ning finished reading there. Amplifying her voice with magical power, she declared loudly, “This Venerable One announces the competition officially begins!”

Wen Ge, following the instructions, began calling contestants to the arena in the order listed in the register. The competition was structured to save the best for last, so the initial matches featured disciples who were mostly there to fill the ranks.

Zhu Ning used this opportunity to analyze the subtle techniques of other sects, hoping to ensure Su Mi’s flawless victory.

However, Zhu Ning wasn’t exactly an expert, and she didn’t want Su Mi to know she wasn’t. So, while analyzing the matches, Zhu Ning kept asking Lin Xiayan for advice. This scene was once again misinterpreted by Su Mi, who grew visibly restless. The book she had been studying diligently now lay forgotten as she alternated between glaring at Zhu Ning and Lin Xiayan.

The competition had been underway for an hour, but none of the earlier matches were worth paying close attention to. However, when Zhu Ning saw the next contestant’s name, she realized it was Han Xiaoxiao. Today, Han Xiaoxiao was dressed in a proper Daoist robe, her hair free of any ornaments, and her expression unusually serious.

Zhu Ning’s gaze was immediately drawn to Han Xiaoxiao’s opponent. It was none other than the lackey from yesterday.

No wonder Han Xiaoxiao was taking this so seriously. That lackey had humiliated her yesterday. Could she be seeking revenge today?

“The match is getting interesting,” Lin Xiayan remarked, pulling up a chair beside Zhu Ning to watch. Zhu Ning glanced down at the roster and saw that Han Xiaoxiao’s opponent was named Lü Zhao.

Lü Zhao was as arrogant as ever, acting as if she had someone in the audience backing her up. The moment Zhu Ning announced the start, Lü Zhao launched an attack. The light flashing from her fingertips was a dark, ominous color, instantly reminding Zhu Ning of the demonic clans in fantasy dramas. Zhen Sui Mountain must be dabbling in unorthodox practices, she thought.

Han Xiaoxiao, who had never trained seriously before, was immediately on the defensive. Under Lü Zhao’s relentless assault, she was slowly being pushed toward the edge of the arena.

Growing anxious, Zhu Ning stood up and telepathically cheered Han Xiaoxiao on.

Hearing the encouragement, Han Xiaoxiao seemed to gain a sudden burst of energy. She flipped into the air and landed right in front of Lü Zhao, her specially crafted wooden sword narrowly missing Lü Zhao’s neck, leaving a thin trail of blood.

Zhu Ning’s palms were sweating with tension. She genuinely adored Han Xiaoxiao, finding her utterly adorable.

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