The Cold and Arrogant Master (Transmigration) - Chapter 5
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- The Cold and Arrogant Master (Transmigration)
- Chapter 5 - The Apprenticeship Ceremony
By the time the morning sun pierced the clouds, Rong Xuan’s knees had already gone numb.
The entire initiation platform of Yu Shengu was carved from solid, ten-thousand-year-old icy jade. Kneeling on it made him want to curse out loud—it was even worse than crashing at a curb after a night of partying back in the clubs.
“They couldn’t even toss in a cushion?” He winced and shifted slightly, only to get smacked across the calf by Elder Bai’s discipline ruler.
Bai Yishan had never liked Rong Xuan from the beginning. He’d been furious when Chu Yu insisted on taking him as a disciple. Seeing this good-for-nothing slouching on the sacred platform, barely kneeling properly—it only made Bai Yishan want to kick him twice.
“Silence!” he snapped impatiently.
Rong Xuan hissed from the pain, mentally cursing out Bai Yishan and the author of the original novel, top to bottom. How did a 21st-century rich kid like me end up suffering like this?
Just as his annoyance peaked, the crisp sound of a jade chime rang through the mist.
At the top of the nine-layered jade steps, the sword aura coiling around thirty-six dragon pillars suddenly froze. Silence fell over the temple as every pair of eyes turned skyward, watching the figure drifting closer from the clouds.
Rong Xuan looked up and saw a white-robed figure stepping through the air, landing soundlessly.
Chu Yu stood at the center of the platform, robes fluttering in the morning breeze. Sunlight edged him in gold, but it couldn’t melt the icy stillness in his gaze.
In that moment, Rong Xuan finally understood why the original him had been obsessed—That face! Not even the best 3D rendering could replicate that beauty!
“Let’s begin,” Chu Yu said coldly—his voice somehow even colder than the icy jade beneath his knees.
Rong Xuan instinctively glanced over. Was it just his imagination, or did this master seem… amused?
“What’s so funny? Watching your dear disciple suffer makes you this happy?” He grumbled inwardly, with nowhere to vent.
Elder Bai’s voice rang out, interrupting his thoughts. “First bow—to honor your master—”
Rong Xuan bowed reluctantly. As his forehead touched the cold jade, he heard a nearby disciple mutter, “The Immortal Master is so handsome. If I could become his disciple, I could die happy.”
…Excuse me?
Rong Xuan nearly choked on his own spit. What is wrong with people here? Volunteering for death like this? If he could trade places with that guy and become a no-name outer disciple instead, he’d gladly let the guy find out what “sword-through-heart” feels like.
“Second—present the spiritual tea—” Elder Bai’s voice echoed again.
As if I could still move. Grandpa’s dying here! Rong Xuan scrambled to his feet with stiff legs and tried to take the ceremonial tea.
But after kneeling so long, his legs gave out—and the tea spilled all over himself.
He wanted to cry. Looking pitifully at Chu Yu, he muttered, “Master, your disciple tried the tea—it’s fine, not too hot. I’ll just pour you another… please wait.”
Up on the platform, Chu Yu looked at Rong Xuan’s hopeless expression—and for the first time in ages, felt genuinely amused. With a rare smile, he said, “Then I’ll leave it to you, my dear disciple.”
Everyone around them froze. What? This was the same strict and unyielding Immortal Master? Since when did he not mind such disrespect?
Rong Xuan grumbled as he fetched another cup, moving slowly and carefully to avoid further disasters.
Chu Yu accepted it with a gentle sip, then placed the cup aside. He looked down at Rong Xuan’s bowed head, reached out, and lightly patted it.
“Good boy.”
“Present the gift,” Elder Bai announced.
A long sword, crystal clear as if carved from pure ice, hovered in front of Rong Xuan.
“This sword is called Ice Soul. It is a fragment of the soul from my own sword, Han Chuan. It will protect you when danger comes. Train well—don’t waste it.” Chu Yu’s tone turned serious.
Gasps echoed around the platform.
“That’s a soul-fragment of Han Chuan? Master’s being way too generous!”
“He just accepted the disciple and is already spoiling him—what’s next?”
Rong Xuan hesitantly reached out.
Though just a fragment, Ice Soul was one of the most coveted artifacts in the cultivation realm and beyond. Its power could level entire peaks.
The original Rong Xuan had only received the sword on his twentieth birthday—after begging endlessly. Even then, he never used it to harm others. That’s how much he cherished it.
Now, Chu Yu offered it freely as a first gift.
Rong Xuan’s hands trembled. “Master… thank you.” His voice cracked with emotion.
The elders nearby were turning green.
“Ridiculous,” Bai Yishan muttered under his breath, seething. What did this brat do to brainwash our Immortal Master? But with everyone watching, he couldn’t lash out—only clench his fists and fume in silence.
“Ceremony complete!” Bai Yishan ground out before storming off in a fury.
On the way back to Starshatter Pavilion, Rong Xuan lagged behind.
“Master,” he suddenly called, “can this sword chop wood? I saw those spirit trees at the back…”
The white-robed figure in front of him visibly froze.
Rong Xuan tried to hold back his laughter. Looks like the high-and-mighty flower gets flustered too—interesting!
“If you use that sword for chopping firewood, I’ll use you to test its edge,” Chu Yu snarled, spinning around. But in that brief moment, he caught a sly curve at the corner of Rong Xuan’s lips.
Rong Xuan flinched, laughing sheepishly. “Don’t worry, Master. I’m just kidding. Your gift is far too precious—how could I ever use it like that?”
“But Master… could I see a bit of its power? Just a glimpse?” he added, scratching his head awkwardly.
Back in the modern world, Rong Xuan had always dreamed of being a swordsman. Whenever a white-robed warrior appeared on screen, he couldn’t look away. And now that he had a divine sword in his hands… he just lacked the cultivation to use it. Still, the dream was alive.
As he was lost in thought, Chu Yu suddenly approached.
He smiled.
Not a cold smirk—but a real, warm smile. His lips softened, curving like sunlight melting snow.
Rong Xuan froze.
Wait… was that a smile? Did Master just smile?
That can’t be right. The original Rong Xuan had once sent flowers and gifts just to make him smile, but he never succeeded.
And yet I, who can’t even lift a sword, made him smile just by being pathetic? What kind of strange taste is this?!
Still… it was a breathtaking smile. Like the snow had finally melted after a thousand years. Like the sudden arrival of spring, when every pear blossom blooms at once.
While Rong Xuan was still stunned, Chu Yu took the Ice Soul from his hand and began walking slowly toward the plum forest.
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