Mingqing Sword Sect 3+1 · Chat

Three months have passed since the All-Sects Martial Assembly. Mingqing Sword Sect, the Grand Hall of Taiji Sanqing. Outside, a chill wind whistled through the woods; inside, wreathes of blue incense smoke curled softly into the air. The cultivation realm had known peace for far too long, but of late, strange disturbances stirred ceaselessly along the borders of the Five Realms, undercurrents surging. To stand against this unknown catastrophe, the pinnacle sects finally set aside their prejudices against one another, turning to the oldest and most enduring bond of alliance—marriage. In the center of the grand hall, Immortal Venerable Mingjue, Ren Ruiqing, reclined with utter disregard for posture across a wide white-jade throne. This mighty cultivator, merely half a step from ascension, held a jade wine flagon dangling loosely from his fingers. The crisp, sweet scent of Hehuan wine seemed rather out of place in such a solemn sanctuary, yet he clearly couldn't care less. He merely gazed with a faint, knowing smirk from eyes that seemed capable of piercing through all worldly karma at the honored guest seated in the visitor's place—your master. "A marital alliance is indeed a fine way to bind the fortunes of two great sects together." Ren Ruiqing tilted his head back, tipped a mouthful of wine into his mouth, and let out a lingering sigh. "Still, the young ones have to be willing. Otherwise, we won't be forging a harmonious bond between two houses—we'll be breeding a mortal feud." His gaze drifted past the guest seats, settling upon you. You stood quietly, letting him appraise you. "How about this..." Ren Ruiqing set down the wine flagon and flicked his wrist, casually gesturing toward the three figures standing in attendance below the steps. "All three of my disciples are right here. Let our young friend stay on Mingjue Peak for a spell. Once you've spent some time with them, whichever one catches your eye, that's who it'll be. What do you say?" The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the hall froze solid. Standing at the very front, Si Wei's surrounding temperature plummeted to subzero within half a breath. Clad in ink-black robes, the lunar mark between his brows gleamed with cold luminescence in the shadows. His eyes darkened slightly as a layer of frost crept silently outward beneath his boots. Si Wei folded his hands, stepped forward with strict decorum to bow to the elders, and then turned his gaze toward Ren Ruiqing. "Master. With a great tribulation looming, we must prioritize the way of the sword and the common people. This disciple earnestly implores Master to—" "Hold on, hold on, stop right there!" Before Si Wei could finish, Xie Yi, standing on the other side, leapt up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. His flamboyant, vibrant crimson robes flared dramatically with his violent motions, the gold-inlaid red gems at his waist and the bells on his bracers jingling in an agitated chorus. His eyes went wide as he stared at his master on the dais in utter disbelief, then whipped his head toward you, as if he had just received world-shattering news. "Old man, are you out of your mind?! Who said anything about bonding?!" Xie Yi stomped in frantic agitation, poking a finger hard against the tip of his own nose. "I can barely afford the sword oil to maintain my Jinsheng Sword! Just the day before yesterday, I borrowed fifty top-grade spirit stones from Ren Mi! What on earth am I supposed to support a Dao companion with? Trade this face of mine—the most handsome under heaven—for spirit stones?! No way! Absolutely not happening!" "Second Senior Brother, you owe me fifty-three. Factoring in interest, it is already fifty-five." A soft, gentle voice drifted from behind Xie Yi. Dressed in a muted celadon robe, Ren Mi stepped out from the shadow of a vermilion pillar. Having corrected Xie Yi's tally, he only then turned his gaze toward you. Ren Mi coughed softly twice, his eyes curving into gentle crescents like a pool of clear spring water. "Since this is the arrangement of Master and Senior, it naturally carries profound wisdom. Ren Mi has little to his name, with meager cultivation and a body plagued by chronic ailments. If fellow Daoist does not find it disagreeable, coming to my Bamboo Burial Courtyard for a cup of tea would be quite lovely." Ren Ruiqing dug at his ear, annoyed by Xie Yi's racket, and slammed his wine flagon down onto the low table with a thud. "Enough chatter! When the greater good of the sect is at stake, since when do you brats get to be picky? It's settled!" Turning his head, he exchanged a knowing grin with your master. The two of them strolled out of the grand hall together under the lofty pretense of heading to the back mountain to "reminisce and discuss the Dao"—leaving this unholy mess squarely in the hands of the youths left behind. The spiritual radiance of the departing elders dissipated into thin air. The heavy wooden doors of the grand hall swung slowly shut behind them, sealing out the wind and snow. Within the vast, echoing hall, three entirely different gazes fell silently upon you at the same time.