Shen Hongmei said nothing.
She simply gazed at Chen Yang for a short while in silence.
Her deep, fathomless eyes looked especially cold and clear in the moonlight.
Chen Yang felt a prickle of unease, quietly wondering whether he had said something wrong just now.
Just as Chen Yang was growing anxious with worry.
Shen Hongmei suddenly turned around and, without a word, began walking slowly down the stairs of the loft.
Chen Yang froze for a moment.
Then hurried after her.
The two of them descended the loft in silence, one behind the other.
They emerged into the courtyard.
A cool night breeze stirred Shen Hongmei's silver hair and swept away the awkward, charged atmosphere that had lingered in the loft.
Coming to a stop in the center of the courtyard, Shen Hongmei turned her head slightly and cast Chen Yang a sidelong glance. Her voice was flat and expressionless:
"Come here."
Chen Yang stepped forward as instructed.
The next moment.
He felt his wrist tighten — a small, cool, and surprisingly strong hand had closed around it.
Then a gentle yet irresistible force surged through him. His feet left the ground, and before he knew it, Shen Hongmei had lifted him into the air!
A flash of light shot from Shen Hongmei's sleeve, transforming into an ancient, unadorned longsword that steadied itself beneath them both.
"S-Senior!"
Chen Yang cried out in alarm and instinctively looked down. The courtyard and buildings below were rapidly shrinking, and the howl of the wind filled his ears.
Chen Yang was experiencing aerial flight.
Even though he was merely being carried along, the sudden weightlessness of leaving the ground and the ever-increasing altitude still sent his heart racing and his blood surging.
However.
That thrilling, novel sensation did not last long.
Shen Hongmei seemed to be testing something. Once the Flying Sword had risen to a height of roughly three hundred meters, the hand gripping Chen Yang's wrist released him without any warning!
"Aah!"
Deprived of support in an instant, Chen Yang felt his body drop and plummeted downward!
The violent rush of weightlessness seized his mind completely, and the scenery below shot upward past him!
He flailed his arms and legs wildly. The meager spiritual energy of his sixth level of the Qi Refinement Realm seemed to fail him entirely in that moment — he could not stabilize himself at all.
Just as he was certain he was about to crash into the ground, something tightened around his waist, and a force yanked him back up onto the Flying Sword.
He found his footing again.
Chen Yang's face had gone deathly pale. His heart hammered wildly and he gasped for breath, staring at Shen Hongmei beside him with lingering terror.
A faint flicker of surprise crossed Shen Hongmei's face.
She furrowed her brow slightly, studying Chen Yang's disheveled state, her voice carrying a note of disbelief:
"You… you truly don't know how?"
She had assumed that when this young man had claimed upstairs that he "couldn't ride qi to fly," it was just an excuse.
Or perhaps…
A deliberate joke to brush her off.
After all, how could someone who had distinguished himself in such a grueling promotion trial not have mastered even the most basic technique of aerial flight?
He was, at the very least, an inner disciple of the Verdant Wood Sect!
Now that she had tested it firsthand, she had no choice but to believe it.
This reckless young man truly had not the faintest clue about it.
The panic during that fall had been no act.
Chen Yang caught his breath and gave a wry smile, cupping his hands in a bow:
"Senior, you see clearly. This disciple… this disciple has truly never studied any technique of aerial flight. During my time as a laborer, I spent every day scrambling for a living and a few scraps of cultivation resources. After advancing to the inner disciples, I immediately threw myself into cultivation techniques and dealing with various matters. I simply… simply had no time for anything else."
He was telling the truth.
During his days as a laborer.
His heart had been filled with hatred.
Each day, beyond tending the medicine garden, he had used the clay bowl to secretly duplicate resources and cultivate with everything he had.
Terrified of exposing his treasure, he had kept an extremely low profile.
He'd had no opportunity to encounter, let alone learn, aerial flight — something that might have seemed ordinary to inner disciples but was utterly out of reach for a laborer.
When he had advanced to the inner disciples, he had skipped the outer disciples stage entirely, which meant he had lacked the guidance others received, and had been forced to figure everything out on his own.
Shen Hongmei looked at his sincere expression, still tinged with lingering fright. The faint irritation she had felt at being overlooked gradually gave way to something more complex.
She recalled the scattered information she had gathered about Chen Yang — a man who had come from the mortal world, alone, who had lived as a laborer, and who had risen swiftly…
This clumsy young man before her — his path of cultivation seemed far less smooth than it appeared on the surface.
If anything, it carried a kind of wild, untamed quality born of having no one to guide him…
She drew a slow breath, suppressed the thoughts rising in her mind, and steadied the Flying Sword in midair. Her voice returned to its usual calm:
"Very well. Since you don't know the way, I'll show you around today."
With that.
A subtle shift of her intent set the Flying Sword gliding forward again, though at a much slower pace.
"Hold on to me."
Shen Hongmei looked straight ahead, her voice still cool:
"Unless you'd like to fall again."
Chen Yang's face flushed with heat at those words.
He stared at Shen Hongmei's slender silhouette before him, her silver hair drifting lightly in the night breeze, and caught the faint, elusive trace of a cool fragrance.
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He hesitated for a moment, but in the end his fear of the height won out. Carefully, he reached out and gently wrapped his arms around Shen Hongmei's waist.
Beneath his hands.
Through the thin layer of fabric, he could feel the slenderness and supple strength of the waist beneath.
It was nothing like the imposing, austere presence he had imagined a Foundation Establishment Elder would have.
"Did you skip a meal? Hold tighter."
Shen Hongmei said without turning her head, her voice betraying no emotion:
"This Flying Sword is steady enough, but the air currents up here are unpredictable. Your cultivation is still shallow — if you can't hold on and fall, I may not always be able to catch you in time."
Those words gave Chen Yang a fright. Abandoning all concern for propriety between men and women, he tightened his arms at once and held Shen Hongmei's waist firmly.
With that, the two of them were pressed nearly flush against each other.
Chen Yang could even feel the warmth radiating from her and, more clearly now, that distinctive cool fragrance.
Something stirred inexplicably in his heart.
A strange feeling quietly took root.
This Silver-Haired Senior — not only was her cultivation profound, but her figure… seemed remarkably fine as well.
He hastily reined in his thoughts, not daring to let his mind wander further, terrified she might sense it.
Shen Hongmei seemed entirely unbothered by the small, wayward thoughts of the person behind her — or perhaps she simply did not care.
She guided the Flying Sword to carry Chen Yang on a slow flight through the night sky above the Verdant Wood Sect.
At the same time, her cool voice pointed out the sights below.
"Look at that cluster of lights down there — that is the sect's market. Outer disciples mostly conduct their trades there."
The Flying Sword swept over a cluster of buildings built into the mountainside, where shadowy figures could be faintly made out moving about.
Chen Yang strained to look down.
This was his first time viewing the market from the air, and it struck him as quite sizable.
The Flying Sword changed course, and Shen Hongmei continued:
"To the east of the market — that range of peaks shrouded in Spiritual Energy, where Formation light shimmers faintly — that is Crimson Glow Peak. Most of the sect's Pills come from there. If you ever need Pills in the future, you may come here, or purchase them at the market."
Chen Yang nodded, committing it to memory.
He had been to the foot of Crimson Glow Peak before, but had never seen it in its entirety from above.
"Beyond Crimson Glow Peak, that steep, jagged mountain from which sword intent seems to pierce the heavens — that is Spirit Sword Peak."
Shen Hongmei finally pointed toward her own domain.
In the moonlight, Spirit Sword Peak's silhouette was sharp and clear — it truly resembled a great sword thrust toward the sky, its presence magnificent.
Chen Yang understood at last. So Spirit Sword Peak was there.
"As for Butterfly Valley, which you know well…"
Shen Hongmei guided the Flying Sword in a graceful turn and pointed in another direction:
"It lies to the south of Spirit Sword Peak. Look — from here, can you not see it clearly?"
Chen Yang looked where she indicated, and sure enough, beyond a stretch of low hills, the outline of Butterfly Valley was faintly visible in the moonlight.
He could not help but feel a sense of wonder.
From up high, the view was so vast — many places that had seemed distant or hidden on the ground appeared surprisingly clear and close from the air.
Throughout the flight, gazing down at the grand sweep of the sect below and feeling the freedom of riding the wind, Chen Yang's eyes were filled with awe and longing.
This art of aerial flight was truly wondrous.
Far faster and more graceful than running on the ground.
Shen Hongmei had taken in every shift in his expression, and the corner of her mouth curved almost imperceptibly as she asked:
"Well? Would you like to learn this art of riding her Flying Sword?"
Chen Yang nodded with almost no hesitation, his eyes shining with eager longing:
"Yes! Senior, this disciple would very much like to learn!"
Seeing his undisguised eagerness, the amusement in Shen Hongmei's eyes deepened slightly, though her voice remained flat:
"Aerial flight requires using spiritual energy to control a magical weapon, or relying on one's own deep cultivation to walk through the void. Your cultivation has already reached the sixth level of the Qi Refinement Realm, which is sufficient to begin learning the basic method of artifact control. However, your injuries have not yet healed — you should not practice this technique right away. You need to rest for a few days first."
Chen Yang nodded quickly:
"This disciple understands. I will take good care of myself."
The Flying Sword circled once through the air and began heading back toward Chen Yang's courtyard.
Shen Hongmei was quiet for a moment, then added:
"In that case, after a few days, once you feel your injuries are no longer a concern, you should…"
She paused mid-sentence, as though she had changed her mind:
"Never mind. You've only just arrived, and you likely don't know the exact path to Spirit Sword Peak. I'll come find you instead. A few days from now, once your injuries have healed, stay in your courtyard at this same hour — don't go anywhere. I will come to you and take you to Spirit Sword Peak to guide your cultivation."
Chen Yang's heart leapt with joy at those words.
To have a Foundation Establishment Elder personally guide him — this was a stroke of fortune that countless inner disciples could only dream of!
He nodded eagerly:
"Yes! Thank you, Senior! This disciple will be waiting without fail!"
As they spoke, the Flying Sword had already glided silently back down into the courtyard, as though it had never left.
Feet on solid ground once more.
Chen Yang's heart still surged with the excitement and novelty of the aerial flight.
Shen Hongmei dismissed her Flying Sword, and her gaze drifted idly to the dim little room beside the loft.
She extended her divine sense briefly, and in an instant perceived two steady sets of breathing within — two young women.
"Who are these two?" Shen Hongmei asked casually.
Chen Yang quickly explained:
"Senior, they are friends of this disciple. One is named Liu Yiyi, the other Xiaochunhua. They were both Menial Disciples at Butterfly Valley. After I advanced to the inner disciples, I brought them here to help with various chores."
He suddenly recalled that Liu Yiyi had once mentioned that when they had fallen gravely ill and nearly died, a Senior from the sect had saved them, which was how they had come to remain at Butterfly Valley.
The Elder Shen before him had profound cultivation and seemed quite familiar with the sect's affairs, so he ventured to ask:
"Senior, Yiyi and the others once mentioned that when they were still in the mortal world, a Senior from the sect saved their lives. Might that Senior… have been you?"
Shen Hongmei shook her head.
Her gaze remained fixed on the little room. A flash of something like displeasure crossed her eyes — gone in an instant — and her voice was even:
"That was not my doing. Rescuing mortal women… that sort of behavior sounds more like something a Senior Sister of mine would do. She cultivates a Pure Yin Cultivation Technique, and her temperament is… rather serene and unworldly. She spends most of her time secluded in her cave dwelling, and her only pastime is reading mortal storybooks. Perhaps all those stories stirred her compassion, and she occasionally steps in to help mortal women in distress. She is currently in secluded cultivation on Jade Bamboo Peak."
"I see."
Chen Yang nodded in understanding.
He felt a surge of gratitude toward that Senior he had never met, and was about to ask for her name so he might thank her properly someday.
But then Shen Hongmei's tone shifted, becoming a shade cooler, unreadable:
"I hadn't expected that so soon after advancing to the inner disciples, you would already have attendants in place — and two young women at that. It seems you are quite attentive to matters beyond cultivation."
Chen Yang's heart tightened. He sensed, with sharp instinct, that there was a faint, barely perceptible note of displeasure in Senior Shen's words.
He groaned inwardly.
Could it be that having Liu Yiyi handle chores made the Senior think he was not focused on the right path — that he was indulging in comfort?
Yet his reason for bringing Liu Yiyi and Xiaochunhua here was mainly to give them a relatively stable place to live.
He couldn't help but recall that the last time they had met, he had also seemed to say something wrong and upset this Senior.
After his time in the sect — especially with Liu Yiyi and Xiaochunhua around, and Xiaochunhua in particular being such a chatterbox — Chen Yang felt his social instincts had sharpened considerably compared to before.
Thinking back to when he had first entered the sect.
Wounded by Zhao Yanran's betrayal and three years of solitude, and knowing nothing of the Cultivation World, his words and actions had indeed been rather reckless and slow-witted.
He was not exactly smooth-tongued now, but he had learned to be careful with his words.
He was about to open his mouth to explain — to make clear that he had brought Liu Yiyi and the others here out of gratitude and mutual support, with no other intentions.
Just then.
From the little room nearby.
A faint, murmuring voice drifted out — the sound of someone talking in their sleep.
Broken and intermittent.
In the stillness of the night, it was startlingly clear:
"Senior Brother Chen… don't… don't ride Sister Liu anymore… come ride me too…"
"…Xiaochunhua… here she comes…"
The voice was soft and silly, carrying the drowsy, clinging quality of a dream.
It was unmistakably Xiaochunhua's voice!
Chen Yang's scalp went numb instantly. A vein throbbed at his temple, and his entire face darkened.
That Xiaochunhua!
Her loose tongue during the day was bad enough — how could she be this shameless even in her dreams?!
And of all the times, it had to be now, with Senior Shen hearing every word!
He spun around frantically to look at Shen Hongmei.
Sure enough, the Silver-Haired Senior's expression was visibly, rapidly darkening.
Those cool, clear eyes seemed to frost over with a layer of ice.
Barely concealed fury.
"S-Senior, please forgive me!"
Chen Yang turned back quickly, his voice urgent as he explained:
"It's… it's that Xiaochunhua — she's young and doesn't know any better, and she's always talking nonsense! She must be talking in her sleep — none of it is real! For disturbing your peace, Senior, this disciple… this disciple will give her a proper scolding when I get back!"
Shen Hongmei let out a cold snort.
Her gaze swept over the little room like a blade.
Then it fell on Chen Yang and lingered for an instant.
That look made Chen Yang feel as though he had been plunged into an icy abyss.
Like a warning.
She said not another word. With a sweep of her wide sleeve, her figure dissolved into a flash of light and vanished from the courtyard in an instant — she had simply left.
Chen Yang stood rooted to the spot, filled with equal parts frustration and worry.
Frustration at Xiaochunhua's unguarded tongue.
Worry that he had thoroughly enraged Shen Hongmei.
If he lost the guidance of this benefactor because of this, the loss would be immense.
He had only just caught a glimpse of hope for rapidly advancing his strength…
Just as his thoughts were in turmoil, a cool voice sounded directly and softly in his ear — it was Shen Hongmei's sound transmission:
"These next few days, rest and tend to your injuries. I will come again in a few days."
The voice still carried no warmth.
But the words made Chen Yang's heart, which had been suspended in dread, settle back into place.
A wave of relief washed over him. He turned toward the direction Shen Hongmei had departed and cupped his hands in a respectful bow.
"This disciple respectfully sees Senior off."
The night sky was silent, with no reply.
Only Xiaochunhua's sleep-murmuring seemed to linger faintly in the air…