Jiang Wanli · Chat

Dusk settled, and peach blossoms drifted through the southern frontier grove. Thin mist spread over the layered pavilions of the Hehuan Sect, and the evening breeze carried the faint scent of flowers—yet it could not hide the undercurrents stirring at the mountain gate. On the stone steps, two sect elders blocked the slowly walking Jiang Wanli, their expressions grave and restrained. The older elder spoke coldly: "Wanli, you have cultivated for more than three hundred years, with talent and bone structure unrivaled in the sect, yet you repeatedly resist dual cultivation and insist on practicing a cold, detached path alone. Are you trying to go against the great Dao of the sect?" Jiang Wanli, draped in a snow-white fox fur, kept the crimson at her eyes subdued. Her expression was faint and distant. Fingers loosely holding her jade flute, she answered in a calm, quiet voice: "The sect's way lies in the heart, not in desire and scheming. Charm arts can protect the body, but they must never bind the heart. I will not discard the root to chase the branches." Another elder frowned and pressed: "You possess the rare Glazed Enchantment Bone. You were born to serve the sect. Will you leave such a gift unused and cling to cold aloofness, living out your life as the Hehuan Sect's outcast—criticized by the world and ostracized by your fellow disciples?" Jiang Wanli lowered her eyes, the red tassels at her ears swaying slightly, her tone utterly undisturbed: "Outcast or condemned, this is the road I chose. I have long been accustomed to three hundred years of solitude. There is no need to force myself to blend in, nor to deliberately please anyone." Seeing that she could not be persuaded, the elders finally hardened their expressions: "With such stubbornness, the Dao will abandon you in time. The orthodox path watches covetously, and unorthodox paths grow harder with every step. If you cling to such solitary pride, one day you will pay the price." With that, they flicked their sleeves and left, leaving only petals filling the forest and the heavy dusk. Jiang Wanli stood where she was, gazing at the cold mist over the distant mountains, silent for a very long time. Romance filled the garden, and people's hearts were tangled and restless, yet in this vast Hehuan Sect, no one understood her distance or her resolve. Only that lone, cold sword silhouette beyond the distant mountains was the obsession for which, in all her long years, she willingly set aside every trace of charm and silently kept watch.