Fallen Blossom Valley was nestled in the perpetually spring-like heartland of the central south, while Nine Conch Mountain stood among the vast and lofty northern ranges. Valley Master Cai had wisely allotted ample time for the journey, whether by waterway or sky-raptor carriage, ensuring his wife and child could both enjoy the scenery and travel swiftly.
On the day they disembarked, Chief Wang of the Green Bamboo Gang, along with a crowd of gang members, stood teary-eyed on the shore to bid them farewell. They expressed gratitude to Cai Zhao for not becoming his disciple and presented over a dozen fragrant, glistening dark plum-roasted geese as congratulatory gifts. This infuriated Cai Zhao so much that his belly puffed up like a blowfish, and he indignantly refused to eat.
Amidst laughter and chatter, the family finally arrived within the borders of Azure Tower Prefecture just before their snacks ran out.
Azure Tower Prefecture took its name from the Azure Tower Sect. This was once the cultivation site of Old Ancestor Bei Chen. Yet two hundred years had passed in the blink of an eye, and what was once a remote, snow-capped mountain village now stood as a sacred land every martial practitioner in the world yearned to visit. The Cai family lingered briefly in the small town at the mountain’s base before hiring over a dozen mountain-suited wheelbarrows the next day to ascend.
Just beyond the town, an imposing and solemn peak came into Cai Zhao’s view.
The mountain was towering and majestic, its presence overwhelming. The massive, jagged boulders resembled petrified demonic creatures, their grotesque and greedy forms looming over travelers as if waiting to strike. Layers of deep green, lush green, and pale green stretched endlessly, pressing forward until it was hard to breathe. The seemingly faint peaks in the distance were actually indescribably vast and towering—merely far away.
Legend spoke of an ancient era when this place was riddled with the lairs of demons and venomous creatures, thriving on the abundant spiritual energy of the mountains and wreaking havoc upon the people. These demons were later eradicated by immortals, who left behind a disciple named Bei Chen to guard the land.
Ages passed, seas turned to fields, and the world’s spiritual energy withered. The immortals vanished, and the young disciple Bei Chen, once stationed at Nine Conch Mountain, became Old Ancestor Bei Chen, the foremost authority in martial cultivation.
As a child, Cai Zhao once asked her aunt, "Is the Old Ancestor really a disciple of the immortals?"
Cai Pingshu smiled. "That was hundreds of years ago—who knows if it’s true? But those of us from the Northern Star Lineage ought to gild our ancestors’ reputations a little. Zhao Zhao, do you wish it were true or not?"
"I hope it’s not true," Cai Zhao replied, her chubby little face serious.
Cai Pingshu was slightly surprised and asked why.
The little girl sighed like an adult. "All the other immortals left, flying up to the heavens, leaving only the Old Ancestor alone in the mortal world. That’s just too pitiful."
Cai Zhao didn’t remember much of the conversation afterward, only that the sunlight had been warm, lulling her into drowsiness as she lay across her aunt’s lap. Her aunt’s expression was gentle, her palm soft as she stroked Cai Zhao’s hair and murmured, "Zhao Zhao’s heart is so tender—perhaps she shouldn’t wander the Martial World in the future."
Cai Zhao had no desire to wander the Martial World at all.
She loved Fallen Blossom Valley and Fallen Blossom Town. She loved waking at dawn to the familiar cries of Uncle Douhua’s tofu pudding, the dimly lit dumpling stalls with their flickering stoves late at night, and having family and friends close by, lazily basking in the sun. What could be better than living like this forever?
Just as they reached the mountaintop, Cai Zhao realized the so-called "summit" was actually an expansive, flat plateau—as if the peak of a small mountain had been sheared off, revealing a smooth, circular surface. The true main peak, shrouded in mist and clouds, still loomed far ahead.The vast flat summit was equipped with watchtowers and sentry posts. Over a dozen disciples stationed there spotted the Cai family's group from afar and clasped their fists in greeting. A round-faced man in his thirties led the disciples in saluting Cai Pingchun and his wife, while Cai Zhao and her younger brother returned the courtesy.
Ning Xiaofeng teased, "Why is Dalou personally on duty here today? Did you make a mistake and get punished by being sent to Wind Cloud Peak?"
Zeng Dalou threw his head back with a laugh. "This morning, I did a quick calculation and knew the entire household of Fallen Blossom Valley would arrive today, so I came out to wait."
Cai Pingchun shook his head. "You were so honest as a child, yet now you've learned to be slick."
Zeng Dalou pursed his lips slightly before letting it go with a smile.
Ning Xiaofeng continued, "You must be thinking to yourself—who does this Cai Pingchun think he is, acting all mature? He’s only a few years older than me. We used to throw mud at each other when we played together, and now he’s putting on airs as the Valley Master."
Zeng Dalou waved his hands with a chuckle. "I wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare at all."
As their parents chatted, Cai Zhao and her brother whispered to each other.
"Elder Sister, where exactly is the Azure Tower Sect? Surely it’s not here? Why aren’t we moving forward anymore?"
"You big dummy! Where else would we go? Can’t you see the flat summit ends right ahead?!"
The Cai family had ascended from the southern slope, while the northern side of the flat summit looked as if it had been cleaved by a massive broad-backed chopper, cleanly shearing off a curved edge to form a sheer cliff.
Standing at the cliff's edge, the siblings peered around. Below them was a bottomless abyss of darkness, while across the chasm, swirling clouds obscured everything except the faint outlines of towering peaks.
At that moment, Zeng Dalou raised his hand, and a young, robust disciple beside him took the horn from his waist and blew into it. The deep, resonant sound surged like waves, seemingly carrying far into the distant mountains. Before the siblings could voice their confusion, Cai Pingchun had already pulled them aside.
Moments later, a terrifying whistling sound erupted from beyond the cliff, accompanied by the clanging of metal. Through the thick mist, four massive iron chains, thick as a man’s arm, shot forth like black pythons.
The chains flew with such ferocity and speed that their howling alone was enough to chill the bones. Had they struck an ordinary person, broken bones and bloodied mouths would have been inevitable. The four sturdy disciples beside Zeng Dalou steadied themselves, muscles tensed, each catching one chain and swiftly securing it to iron rings anchored into the ground.
"So impressive..." Cai Zhao gaped.
Cai Han nodded like a woodpecker. "Yes, yes, absolutely!"
Zeng Dalou cupped his hands modestly. "You flatter me."
Just as Cai Zhao was about to praise further, the chains clanked again. She turned to see several sect disciples, hair tied back and swords strapped to their backs, gliding gracefully across the iron chains through the mist.
The one leading them was particularly striking—a youth of eighteen or nineteen, clad in a plain gold-embroidered robe, his handsome features as refined as carved jade. Yet his expression was solemn, his brow cold and aloof.
Cai Pingshu had once told her knee-high niece: "Zhao Zhao, when you choose a husband in the future, never pick someone cold and arrogant. Men like that will always expect you to pamper them. Life is short—isn’t it better to be the one pampered? Why seek hardship by pampering others?"Thus, at a tender age, Cai Zhao resolved that her future husband must treat her with the same warm cordiality as a shopkeeper greeting a prized customer.
Snapping back to attention, Cai Zhao observed the handsome man’s feet. With just the lightest tap of his toes on the Iron Chain, he could effortlessly leap forward in large, graceful bounds, his movements as ethereal as an immortal’s, far outpacing the other disciples.
Once they landed, the disciples on the flat summit clasped their fists in salute toward the plain-robed youth. Yet he only offered a single-handed salute to Zeng Dalou before bowing deeply to Cai Pingchun. "Disciple Song Yuzhi greets Valley Master Cai and Madam Cai," he said.
As he spoke, the remaining disciples descended from the Iron Chain.
Cai Pingchun nodded, but Ning Xiaofeng frowned, scrutinizing the young man’s features. "Your surname is Song? Is your father—"
Before she could finish, a clamor erupted behind them, led by a loud, synchronized shout. Cai Zhao turned to see a full thirty-two bare-shouldered, muscular warriors carrying an enormous sedan chair in perfect unison.
The sedan chair was adorned with gold tracery and inlaid jade, its sides draped with exquisite curtains. Even the four corners were embellished with pure gold bells, their clappers made of translucent tourmaline. Behind it stretched an endless train of supplies and attendants, winding like a serpent.
Having never ventured so far from the valley before, the Cai siblings were utterly dumbstruck. Cai Han gaped. "Such... such extravagance..."
Cai Pingchun murmured, "So it’s him who’s come."
Ning Xiaofeng said flatly, "Why am I not surprised in the least?"
Cai Zhao grabbed her brother’s head and demanded, "Do you still think I’m the fussy one now?"
Cai Han shook his head vigorously.
Cai Zhao lamented in a hushed, aggrieved tone, "I feel like I’ve been living in austerity!"
Cai Han nodded emphatically.
The plain-robed youth overheard and twitched the corner of his mouth.
The sedan chair halted, and out stepped a middle-aged man dressed in opulent finery, his presence overwhelming. The pigeon-blood rubies alone on the gilded sword at his waist nearly blinded Cai Zhao. To be fair, this ostentatious uncle was quite handsome—high forehead, straight nose, and striking brows—clearly a dashing figure in his youth, his charisma undiminished with age.
Yet Cai Zhao found him oddly familiar... She whipped her head around. Wait, why did this flashy uncle bear such a striking resemblance to the coldly aloof Song Yuzhi beside her?
At the sight of the Vast Heaven Gate’s arrival, Zeng Dalou’s face betrayed resignation. Forcing a smile, he stepped forward to greet them while quietly directing disciples to set up something by the cliff edge.
Ignoring Cai Zhao’s probing gaze, Song Yuzhi stepped forward. "Father, you’ve come."
The elder Song brightened at the sight of his son, approval in his eyes. "Yuzhi, your lightness skill has improved again."
Then came another voice, dripping with arrogance: "Father, you should scold Yuzhi. It’s been ages since he wrote home."
Everyone turned to see a lavishly dressed young master riding in on a magnificent steed, its pure gold, gem-studded bridle alone worth a fortune. Behind him followed another rider—ordinary in both appearance and mount.
Cai Zhao frowned. To waste such a splendid horse on mountain climbing was sheer sacrilege.
Ning Xiaofeng rolled her eyes and asked Zeng Dalou, "When you made your calculations, did you foresee his arrival today too?"
Zeng Dalou gave an awkward chuckle.Song Yuzhi stepped forward again, cupping his hands in salute. "Elder Brother, Second Brother, Yuzhi greets you both." Then he introduced the Cai family—the plainly dressed one was the Song family's eldest son Xiuzhi, while the younger son Maozhi was adorned in dazzling pearls and jade, his attire identical to their father's.
Song Xiuzhi immediately dismounted to return the courtesy, but Song Maozhi merely tilted his nose up with a haughty laugh.
Cai Pingchun remained expressionless, while Ning Xiaofeng couldn't resist reaching for the pouch at her waist. Cai Zhao, knowing her mother's itchy fingers, quickly moved to quietly restrain her.
"Pingchun, it's been a long time—you haven't changed a bit," Sect Leader Song Shijun of Vast Heaven Gate boomed as he strode toward the Cai family.
"You flatter me. Greetings, Elder Brother Song," Cai Pingchun replied with a cupped fist before deferring to his wife.
Ning Xiaofeng offered a thin, insincere smile. "Well, well, Pingchun is still young, so naturally, he hasn't changed much. But Sect Leader Song, you've changed quite a bit... That belt must take up more fabric than before."
Song Shijun's face darkened instantly. "Lady Ning's sharp tongue hasn't dulled with time." Yet his hand involuntarily drifted to his waist—for while the sect leader was indeed imposing and majestic, he had also... gained a little weight.
Remembering his status, Song Shijun decided it was beneath him to engage in petty verbal sparring with a woman. So he shifted his gaze to Cai Zhao and her brother standing nearby. "This must be Zhao Zhao, who's about to join Azure Tower Sect soon. I’ve heard much about you from Brother Yun Ke. Ah, what a pity your aunt has passed—otherwise, I could have shared a drink and reminisced with her."
Cai Zhao tilted her head with genuine confusion. "Sect Leader Song was close to my aunt?"
"Of course," the sect leader replied with practiced dignity.
"But my aunt never mentioned you." This was the truth—Cai Zhao prided herself on being honest and never speaking falsehoods.
The Song father and sons: "..."
Ning Xiaofeng stifled a laugh, itching to hug her daughter and kiss her.
It was the good-natured Cai Pingchun who stepped in to smooth things over. "Elder Brother Song, Fallen Blossom Valley has recently refined two batches of excellent wound medicine. Would you care to take a look? Xiaofeng, come along."
Song Shijun nodded stiffly and followed the Cai couple aside. From a distance, Cai Zhao could still hear him asking, unwilling to let it go, "Pingchun, did your sister really never mention me?" Then Ning Xiaofeng cut in, "Sect Leader Song, what exactly would Pingshu-jie have said about you? Don’t ask questions that might hurt our friendship..."
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