IRBTCI CH7

Ning Yantu brought Bai Lu to Counting Spring Court, and as Bai Lu glanced around the place where he’d soon be studying, he had to admit—it was beautiful. Traditional Eastern-style architecture, serene and refined.

Bai Lu wanted to describe it more eloquently, but unfortunately this was a blind spot in his knowledge. All he could come up with was: “Feels like it could be a UNESCO heritage site!”

“What are you mumbling about?” Ning Yantu asked as she led Bai Lu into a side room and handed him a more formal outfit to change into. “This snow-aubergine color really suits you—makes your skin look fair, even a bit noble.”

Bai Lu blinked. “Wait, isn’t this just… purple?”

Ning Yantu paused for a moment and then said, “Yes, it’s called snow-aubergine. There are many kinds of purple.”

“But snow is white, and aubergine is green—why is a shade of purple called snow-aubergine?” Bai Lu was a little confused. Wouldn’t “light purple” be more straightforward?

“That’s just what it’s called. Now hurry up and get ready,” Ning Yantu urged, mindful of the auspicious timing. She placed a delicate, filigreed hair crown on his head, wove bead strands into a few small braids, and decided to leave the blue spider brooch in place—it actually matched the outfit and symbolized joy descending from the heavens.

Bai Lu stared at the accessories she was laying out and reached toward a string of ornaments. “Can I wear this one too…?”

“That’s enough.” Ning Yantu lightly smacked his hand away and gave him a push. “Let’s go!”

When they arrived at the place where the formal apprenticeship ceremony would take place, Bai Lu saw the sect leader Bo Luan Immortal Lord again. With a casual gesture and a light incantation, Bo Luan expanded the space—what had been a few spacious rooms suddenly stretched into a grand hall, more than enough to accommodate all the guests.

In front of everyone, Bo Luan Immortal Lord presided over the ritual. Incense was lit. Offerings were laid out. A prayer was made to heaven and earth.

He then recited the formal apprenticeship declaration, writing Bai Lu’s name into the Xuanshan Sect’s registry, completing the dual recognition of heaven and master. Then he signaled Bai Lu to offer tea to Huo Xuexiang.

Huo Xuexiang stood with hands clasped behind his back—like a frost-forged blade still in its sheath, or like plum branches shrouded in snow. His eyes were covered, yet Bai Lu clearly felt the weight of his spiritual awareness—sharper and more intense than direct eye contact.

Bo Luan Immortal Lord began the customary speech: “The path of cultivation is like bloodline inheritance. Henceforth, honor your teacher and the Dao…” Then he paused, because the next line was usually, “Strive for ascension.” But everyone knew Huo Xuexiang’s current situation.

At that moment, Huo Xuexiang raised a hand to accept the tea and continued in his usual calm voice:

“From the moment you enter my tutelage, all things are permitted. I practice the ‘Frost Wheel Ninefold Body Technique,’ though it remains incomplete. Therefore, I cannot teach you to ascend, only guide you along the path of the Nine Realms—to roam the heavens, tread the moon, return the soul to the mortal world. When you come to understand the human realm, you may find the way back on your own.”

This was completely different from how others took disciples. But the Sword Sovereign of Juntian had never been a conventional figure.

Bo Luan Immortal Lord nodded. Many people were reluctant to take Huo Xuexiang as their master because his cultivation method was known to be flawed, its path to ascension cut short.

But now he had taken on this peculiar disciple—and who was to say the disciple wouldn’t complete what the master could not?

Surely the boy must have been moved by this…

Bai Lu: Understood about… 37.6% of that.

But that was fine. He had never paid much attention to headmaster speeches at school ceremonies either. All he had to do now was shout a rousing slogan:

“Yes, Master! I will study hard and cultivate diligently!”

Huo Xuexiang put down the teacup and gifted Bai Lu a sword, thus completing the ceremony.

Only then did the guests chorus their congratulations: “Congratulations, Sword Sovereign, on acquiring a fine disciple!”

Bai Lu examined the sword his master had given him. He wasn’t sure what material it was made of, but it felt cold to the touch. Two characters were engraved on it: “Xue Yu” (Snow Feather). There were no other decorations—it was plain and bare, just like the sword his master carried.

Based on his own habits, Bai Lu felt it was practically begging to be embedded with magic crystals and engraved with runes.

He had no foundation in swordsmanship. When he swung it a few times, he nearly hit himself. He recoiled a little and even closed one eye.

Yikes, dangerous.

Was this really something a witch like him should be handling?

His ritual daggers back home were mostly unsharpened ceremonial tools, meant only to channel power—not to cut anything. And being dull made them easier to get through airport security, too.

Just then, Ning Yantu approached with a wooden puppet, and her expression twisted slightly upon seeing Bai Lu flailing around with the sword. She knew he was new, but still… to see someone playing with a sword on Dianmei Peak—it was soul-crushing.

Wasn’t he the one who said he really wanted to be a sword cultivator? Hadn’t even done basic physical training?

Ning Yantu started to feel like something was off. But then she looked at Bai Lu’s innocent face and figured maybe she was just overthinking it.

“Bai Lu, I have to head out. Let me brief you on this: this is for your peak.” She gestured at the puppet beside her. “Dianmei Peak didn’t even have a puppet before—your Master only went to request one after the Sect Leader reminded him.”

Bai Lu looked up to see a young man in black standing beside her. His features were chiseled, his hands at his sides, his expression blank, devoid of emotion.

Senior Sister said this was for Dianmei Peak. Given that Bai Lu knew he was the only disciple there, was this… his master’s butler?

The black-clad youth seemed to sense his gaze and said, “Young Master, do you have any orders?”

“Thank you, none for now.” Whoa, he really sounded like an old-school butler! Bai Lu stared at him, puzzled. His tone was too flat—so flat it was almost… familiar.

He waved his hand in front of the young man’s eyes. The youth didn’t blink.

“Young Master, do you have any orders?” he repeated, in exactly the same tone.

“…Transfer to a human operator?”

That’s when Bai Lu finally realized what was going on.

That was it. He had the tone of a machine.

The black-clad puppet paused thoughtfully. “Young Master, please repeat the command.”

“It’s a wooden puppet crafted by Tianquan Peak,” Ning Yantu explained, watching him curiously. “You’ve heard of them, right?”

“Oh, yes.” Bai Lu vaguely remembered Chief Steward Dai talking about the various types of puppets in Xuanshan, though he hadn’t connected the dots.

He hadn’t expected the puppet to look so realistic. It still had that mechanical vibe, sure, but appearance-wise it was remarkably lifelike. He’d imagined puppets would look like marionettes from traditional theater. “Does he have a name?”

“Qiusuo.”

“…Deep Retrieval?”

“What?” Ning Yantu looked confused.

“Never mind.” Bai Lu was referencing something else entirely.

Ning Yantu was already used to Bai Lu saying odd things. After all, he came from the mortal world and hadn’t been exposed to the cultivation world—there were all kinds of strange folk across the Twelve Continents. Still, he was way better than that second-place Liang Manggu, who had been running gambling rings since he got here.

“Anyway, if you need anything, just tell the puppet. Your Master ordered it to watch over you. Don’t underestimate it—Tianquan Peak made this one with an unprecedented level of detail. It’s got near-foundation-level combat ability. You can train with it or ask it cultivation questions.”

So basically… it had a giant database?

“Got it. Thanks, Master! Thanks, Senior Sister!” Bai Lu immediately began inspecting the puppet. Since she said it was powerful, he wondered how smart it really was.

He got an idea.

Just as Ning Yantu was turning to leave, she heard Bai Lu behind her ask the puppet:

“Qiusuo Qiusuo, should Fasting Pills be taken before or after meals?”

Qiusuo: “…”

Ning Yantu nearly tripped. She had barely recovered from seeing him stump Chief Steward Dai with that exact same question—now he was bullying the puppet too?

She couldn’t listen to any more. She feared she might snap.

The guests had all dispersed, but Bai Lu was still sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard, continuing his interrogation:

“Qiusuo, how many Supreme Elders of the Three-Not Realm can my Master beat?”

“Young Master, please allow me more time to calculate.”

“Qiusuo, do wooden puppets ever dream of fertilizer?”

“Young Master, please allow me more time to calculate.”

“Qiusuo, why is snow-aubergine called snow-aubergine? It clearly looks purple. Does snow mean purple now? Should my Master be renamed Huo Zixiang?”

“…It is the color of cold snow when it takes on a faint hue.”

Before the black-robed puppet could finish answering, a calm voice interrupted from behind.

The Master of Dianmei Peak stood tall, his robes fluttering in the breeze. No one knew when he had arrived.

“Master.” Bai Lu showed no hint of unease at being caught using the puppet like a toy tutor. He stood up and smiled brightly at his master, trying to foster some closeness—though his vocabulary was admittedly limited. “Master’s outfit color today is also very… pleasing. Looks good.”

Most other disciples in Xuanshan, especially new ones, treated their master with utmost respect and caution.

But Huo Xuexiang had already witnessed how blunt Bai Lu could be in private, and how openly he had expressed admiration. So he figured this was just Bai Lu’s personality. Though he wasn’t used to this kind of interaction, he still gave a slight nod in response.

“But I still don’t get it—what does cold snow have to do with the color purple?” Bai Lu pressed on.

As the old saying goes, a teacher’s duty is to pass on knowledge, teach skills, and dispel confusion.

Huo Xuexiang did not yet realize this was not the limit of Bai Lu’s questions. Like Ning Yantu, he assumed it was just a regional difference. He dipped his finger in tea and pointed toward the sky.

The droplet of tea shimmered in midair, and in an instant, it turned into a flurry of snow. Some of the snowflakes even floated beyond Counting Spring Court, falling into the dusky plum forest. In the blink of an eye, the entire courtyard was cloaked in a silvery-white world. Snow gathered on the ground like a soft, thick carpet.

“Look closely—after snowfall, there’s a faint bluish-purple hue. That’s where the name comes from.”

Indeed, the blinding whiteness wasn’t entirely pure. The fluffy snow carried a chilly blue-violet tint, especially in the shadows, where it was even more pronounced.

Bai Lu had initially thought the name was some poetic, artistic invention of the East. But now that he saw it for himself, it was quite literal. The color really did resemble the shade of his robe—a cold, purplish tone.

Sure, one could call it “light purple,” but that wouldn’t capture the chilly feel of it.

“Oh, you’re right! I get it now. Thank you, Master.” Bai Lu realized that because snow was pure white, it easily reflected and absorbed surrounding hues—creating that purplish tone under certain lighting. He wasn’t an art student and had never paid attention to these details in life, but the principle now seemed obvious, and the name, rather accurate.

Also…

So much snow!

Bai Lu squatted down and started making a snowman.

Huo Xuexiang: “?”

Why was he suddenly playing?

Huo Xuexiang grew even more bewildered…

Unlike Bai Lu, who had plenty of student experience, Huo Xuexiang was teaching someone for the very first time.

When his own master had taken him in, he was already at the Three-No Realm (no desires, no attachments, no illusions) and rarely spoke. There was no clear example of what a master-disciple relationship should look like.

And Bai Lu… well, there wasn’t really anyone else in Xuanshan quite like him either.

Huo Xuexiang had no idea what to say, so he just stood quietly to the side, hands behind his back.

Bai Lu rolled up a snowball base and pushed it to the gate of Counting Spring Court. Then he stacked another snowball for the body, used stones and twigs for the facial features, pulled off a hair ribbon from his own head, and wrapped it around the snowman’s neck. Clapping his hands proudly, he said, “This is a Snow Puppet. Same as Qiusuo. It’s going to work the gate now.”

Truly excellent at drawing inferences from one example.

Though the real black-clad puppet, Qiusuo, stood quietly off to the side and looked nothing like the snowman…

This snow was created through Huo Xuexiang’s spell, so it wouldn’t last long. But hearing Bai Lu assign the snowman to gate duty—

“What are you doing, Master?” Bai Lu looked up after admiring his handiwork and saw his teacher still silently standing nearby, as if trying to say something. He asked casually.

Only then did Huo Xuexiang speak. “Come with me. I will teach you the core technique.”

So intense—they were starting class already?

…Wait. Don’t tell me he came all the way here just to start the lesson?

Bai Lu only realized it now. No wonder his master looked like he had something to say but didn’t—he had basically made the man stand there while he played for ages… Not that the master could see him, technically.

“…Ah, okay.” Bai Lu replied guiltily.

In truth, after spending some time in this world, Bai Lu was no longer as panicked as he’d been at the beginning. Whether it was fun or study, he was naturally curious. He’d looked into shamanism, Greek astrology, and all sorts of systems back home.

Now that he was faced with an unfamiliar Eastern-style system, of course he was intrigued. The magical snowfall just now was especially fascinating.

And now he had a personal teacher. Learning a bit more couldn’t hurt—and would give him less time to overthink.

As he followed behind Huo Xuexiang, Bai Lu thought: Cultivation definitely had its perks. His master could walk around like a normal person with a blindfold on. Was that cloth really just for style?

Huo Xuexiang led him into the plum forest and stopped under the largest, oldest tree. The puppet Qiusuo, who had been silently following, brought out two meditation cushions. They sat cross-legged across from each other.

Bai Lu had done this a couple of times, but it still felt a bit awkward.

“The path of cultivation lies in observing the stars and studying the earth’s meridians,” Huo Xuexiang began. “For all laws follow the natural order. Even the Five Ancient Emperors developed their arts through understanding the patterns of nature. The heavens reveal signs; the wise follow them. The technique I developed—the Frost Wheel Ninefold Body Method—also draws upon the power of the stars to temper the self. With each layer broken through, one draws closer to the heavens. However, the technique is incomplete… and today, I likely cannot teach it to you. Your body is too weak. We shall begin with energy cultivation.”

Bai Lu caught the part about being weak and felt the urge to argue. But compared to sword cultivators who were basically athletes—well, witches like him were physically weaker…

Those people were basically all jocks!

Since Huo Xuexiang had never taught anyone before, and his own cultivation journey didn’t exactly apply to others, he just remembered to start from the basics.

“To refine essence into qi,” he began, “one must draw the energy of heaven and earth into the Purple Palace, guiding it through the Northern Dipper—”

His voice was pleasant to listen to, and his teaching attitude was pretty good, especially considering Senior Sister had said he usually only played high-level games. Now here he was, giving a basic tutorial just for Bai Lu.

But the problem was…

Bai Lu shyly raised his hand. “Master…”

Huo Xuexiang paused, and asked softly, “What is it?”

Bai Lu replied gravely, “Can we maybe… start even more basic than this?”

Huo Xuexiang had heard from other peak masters that sometimes disciples needed to rebuild their foundation after joining—either because their prior training was shaky, or because they hadn’t learned elite techniques. So he assumed this was the case and said:

“Then shall we begin with qi induction?”

Bai Lu blushed. “…Even more basic.”

Huo Xuexiang thought for a moment. “Meditation?”

Bai Lu: “…Language. Grammar.”

Huo Xuexiang: “?”