The Thousand-Layer Schemes of the Sickly Beautiful Master - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Qing Zhuxue stayed with a strange woman. She had no better choice.

In their occasional chats over the next few days, she learned her name, Yun Shuchen.

Her origin and identity were unknown.

Holding a small branch, Qing Zhuxue wrote her name on the ground stroke by stroke and remembered it fully.

Yun Shuchen’s life was simple. She either meditated or slept. The line between meditating and sleeping was blurry, hard to tell apart.

Qing Zhuxue wasn’t lively or active. Compared to other children her age, she was quietly charming. Raising her was easy—just give her food and drink regularly. Sometimes, Yun Shuchen felt she was tending a plant, not a noisy, crying child. The little one could sit still all day, not looking bored.

“Want to go play?” Yun Shuchen asked during a rare awake moment.

“Not really.”

Because of her strange nature, her father often warned her to stay home. If she had to go out, it was when few people were around. In her small world, the sky was square, surrounded by courtyard walls, and the only familiar person was her father.

Habits were hard to break.

“Then read a book.”

Yun Shuchen sighed lightly, touched the jade bracelet on her wrist, and magically pulled a few simple books from thin air. She tossed them to her.

In the dim light, Qing Zhuxue took a glowing pearl from a lampstand, placed it by the book, and sat cross-legged to read. Thanks to her scholar father, she could read well. The book looked old, its cover yellowed, out of place in the finely decorated cave and with its perfectly refined owner.

She opened the first page: ‘The Essential Way’.

She knew the words, but together, they were hard to understand.

No matter. She read on. The book usually explained rare terms.

[Between heaven and earth, besides things you can see and touch, there’s an invisible, untouchable “qi.” Its total amount never changes, moving from one object to another. This is the foundation for cultivators’ progress.]

Qing Zhuxue frowned as she read.

She recalled Yun Shuchen’s gesture.

From her fingertip, in empty air, she formed a clear water droplet.

Qing Zhuxue raised her hand, mimicking the move. But after holding her arm up until it ached, nothing happened.

Invisible, untouchable, turning nothing into something.

One was “qi,” the other water, but they felt faintly connected.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the sleeping woman quietly open her eyes, watching her clumsy imitation with a thoughtful look.

So perceptive, Yun Shuchen thought silently.

One morning, Yun Shuchen rose early, dressed neatly, and stood gracefully at the cave entrance. Qing Zhuxue rubbed her eyes, puzzled, seeing her silhouette against the light.

“It’s time to go back.”

“Go where?” Qing Zhuxue tucked the book under her arm and looked up. In her days here, Yun Shuchen never left the cave.

Seeing her in daylight, Qing Zhuxue noticed her skin was very pale, almost bloodless, smooth like jade.

“Taichu Realm.”

The words drifted lightly to her ears. Qing Zhuxue froze, then was lifted by Yun Shuchen into the clouds, soaring high with the wind roaring in her ears, blocking all other sounds.

Yun Shuchen tied a cloak on her, and the rushing wind stopped. Qing Zhuxue gasped, looking down. The cave was gone. Far below, she saw a corner of the town she passed through, people tiny like ants, clustered together.

“Are you from Taichu Realm?”

The familiar question had a new prefix. Yun Shuchen glanced at her, noting the girl’s bright eyes, somehow eager at the mention of “Taichu Realm.”

“Yes.” She smiled lightly. “What’s wrong?”

Qing Zhuxue stared at the red cord on her ankle and said softly, “My father told me to come here to make a living.”

“Make a living?” Yun Shuchen paused. “This isn’t a place for homeless children. To stay properly, you’d need an elder or the sect leader to take you as a personal disciple.”

“Elder…”

Qing Zhuxue didn’t fully understand the word. But elders were older people, so she pictured a white-haired, respected figure.

She looked at Yun Shuchen’s youthful face, paused, and asked, “Are you under an elder?”

Seeing no desire to answer, Qing Zhuxue thought and said, “You seem so extraordinary and can ride clouds. You must be the sect leader’s disciple.”

“…”

Her cheek was pinched by two fingers, making her wince and turn away, eyes teary. Yun Shuchen pulled back her hand, waved her sleeve, and the cloud changed direction.

She said calmly, “He’s my senior brother.”

It was a fine spring day with a gentle breeze. Soon, they saw Taichu Realm’s full view. Qing Zhuxue recognized the mountain path. She was surprised by the distance, realizing she had rolled from halfway down the mountain to its base and still survived.

They stepped onto a towering peak with an ancient, grand wooden hall at the top. Qing Zhuxue saw three bold characters—Spring and Autumn Hall. Gold-painted couplets flanked it, quite majestic.

As she crossed the threshold, a deep, powerful bell rang, echoing solemnly.

Yun Shuchen led her inside.

The hall was clean and bright. A table held fruits, tea, and the sect leader.

To Qing Zhuxue’s surprise, the sect leader looked only about thirty, handsome and too young.

Her cheek seemed to ache again. She understood why Yun Shuchen pinched her.

“Long time no see. I missed you,” Yun Shuchen smiled. “How’s my senior brother doing?”

The sect leader sipped tea expressionlessly and waved his sleeve. “Skip the pleasantries. Sit. You look spirited; your injury must be better. Remember the meeting tomorrow.”

He glanced up, paused, and said, “Who’s this girl?”

“Picked her up in the wild. She wanted to come to Taichu Realm, so I brought her along.”

Yun Shuchen spoke casually, as if it was no effort. But the sect leader noticed the red cord on the girl’s ankle, tied with a wisp of his junior sister’s soul. Such an important item wouldn’t be given lightly.

This girl must be special, something Yun Shuchen valued. The sect leader kept quiet but grew curious, watching her closely.

Her eyes were clear, calm, and composed for her age. Standing with Yun Shuchen in the hall, she showed no fear.

At least a well-mannered child.

Yun Shuchen called a female disciple at the door to take Qing Zhuxue to her Crane Feather Peak, saying she had matters to discuss with the sect leader.

“Before I left, I cast a divination, as you know,” Yun Shuchen said, sitting and pouring tea. “It pointed east, hinting at a great opportunity. I traveled east for a month, saw no treasures. But near the end of my retreat, a stumbling girl entered my cave.”

“I didn’t think it could be a dirty child like her,” Yun Shuchen lowered her voice, “but her background…”

“She attracts heavenly lightning.”

The sect leader, turning his sandalwood beads, paused and frowned. “Really?”

Both had lived over a hundred years. A glance shared an understanding.

Cultivators defied heaven, facing lightning during tribulations.

Yet this mere mortal, with no cultivation, drew such calamity.

What kind of person made heaven so wary it sought to kill her young?

The sect leader’s face grew serious.

Yun Shuchen returned to her usual tone, smiling and shaking her head. “Thinking too much is useless. I tied the red cord to hide her aura. Don’t worry. If she’s a chosen one and in Taichu Realm, her fate is set. A single bolt won’t kill her.”

Crane Feather Peak was in Taichu Realm’s northwest, with a large lake in the center. In spring and summer, warm southeast winds mixed with lake mist, cooling into rain or snow on the peak.

Usually, spring brought snow, summer brought rain.

Qing Zhuxue stepped on soft, cold snow and flinched like a startled animal. The senior sister guiding her found it odd. “Haven’t you seen snow?”

“…No.” If she meant this stuff on the ground.

“Alright.” The girl was surprised, wondering where this child came from. “I’m Lin Xunqin, Elder Zhou’s disciple. Call me Senior Sister Lin.”

“This is Crane Feather Peak. Elder Yun lives in this courtyard alone. Don’t be afraid.” Lin Xunqin added, “Are you Elder Yun’s disciple?”

Yun Shuchen, Elder Yun.

Qing Zhuxue shook her head. “She didn’t say. I’m not.”

Lin Xunqin frowned but comforted her. “She’s never taken a disciple. Bringing you here means she really likes you.”

“I have things to do and must go. Stay here, don’t wander. Aunt Yun will be back soon.” She turned and left.

Qing Zhuxue couldn’t call her back. The courtyard gate wouldn’t budge, and she had no key. Senior Sister Lin was gone quickly.

She figured Lin didn’t live here and couldn’t enter either. So, Qing Zhuxue squatted by the gate, staring at the stone lion.

A sparkling snowflake landed on her nose, melting into water. She licked it—tasteless.

Heavy snow soon covered the branches, bending them. When a branch snapped back, snow flew and hit her head. She didn’t dodge in time, and with a puff, snow covered her lashes, brows, and body.

A light laugh sounded nearby.

Yun Shuchen, back somehow, walked over and brushed the loose snow from her head.

She coughed lightly, as if catching a cold breeze, then teased, “What are you squatting here for? Competing with it for food?”

Following her finger, she meant the fierce, majestic stone lion.