Chapter 76: Successive Legacy

After returning from the demon realm, Yun Jiao and the old man went straight back to Qingyang Temple. Considering their ancestral master’s temper, neither of them dared linger outside. It wasn’t that they were afraid because of his status—after all, he was the Founder of the Daoist Sect, revered by all—but his personality was… problematic. They were terrified he might shatter the carefully maintained image that generations of disciples held of him. Besides, the ancestral master himself didn’t seem to enjoy interacting with people; in fact, he seemed faintly repulsed by the idea.

At first, Yun Jiao had thought he was just an introvert with a mild case of social anxiety. Later, she realized it wasn’t nearly that simple.

She glanced at the flurry of message paper cranes fluttering toward Qingyang Temple like a snowstorm and sighed deeply.

What in the world is this chaos?

“Girl, the Cleaning Charm has stopped working again,” the old man said, wielding a broom anxiously. “What do we do? At this rate, our Qingyang Temple will be buried alive under these paper cranes.”

Yun Jiao glanced at the pile—letters were already stacked nearly a meter high. Her eyes landed on one pale pink sheet; a single glance told her all she needed to know. The contents were the same as the hundreds before it—earnest requests to join the Qingyang Sect, lengthy introductions, and flowery words of admiration for their Grandmaster. The praises were so exaggerated, they could rival an essay written for the college entrance exam’s full marks.

And after all that poetic flattery came the same subtle plea: to be accepted into the sect, ideally under the guidance of the Grandmaster himself—the very same Grandmaster who had graced fifty-odd disciples with one fleeting glance.

At first, Yun Jiao hadn’t understood why this was happening. But after the whole incident with the Demon King, she finally got it—these weren’t prospective students; they were fans. No wonder the old man hated going outside. His charisma level wasn’t that of a Daoist ancestor—it was that of a romance deity. He even managed to captivate male demons!

She thought of that Demon King who’d been stomped into a mountain and wondered, Has anyone managed to dig him out yet?

“Girl, think of something!” The old man shook out his sore hand. He’d been sweeping all day, and the letters were still falling from the sky. His arm was about to break.

“Replace the Cleaning Charm with a Blaze Charm,” Yun Jiao said with a sigh.

“Huh?” The old man froze. “You mean burn them all?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nodded. “Just make sure to move everything else away first so we don’t accidentally set the place on fire.”

“But… what if one of them is from the Celestial Masters Hall?” he asked, uneasy. They had just been officially registered under the Hall, and the Celestial Masters often sent out tasks periodically. Burning one of those could spell disaster.

“It’s fine,” Yun Jiao replied calmly. “When I left, Master Xu gave me a special communication charm.”

She pulled out a violet talisman. She hadn’t accepted the direct promotion to Moon-ranked Celestial Master, so after discussion, the elders settled on naming her a Seven-Petal Celestial Master—one rank below the elders, but still prestigious. The talisman allowed the Hall to contact her directly if needed.

Yun Jiao had agreed right away. Being one rank lower didn’t matter—it came with a salary.

To everyone’s surprise, the old man had also done quite well in the examination. Mostly emboldened by Yun Jiao’s presence, he had managed to pass with flying colors, earning himself the title of One-Petal Celestial Master—a big leap from the Five-Coin Master rank he’d expected. His pay doubled overnight.

Both of them were quite satisfied with the results.

“I’ll tell Master Xu later to use the charm directly for assignments,” Yun Jiao said.

“Got it!” The old man tossed his broom aside gleefully, finally free from sweeping duty. “I’ll go draw the Blaze Charms now!” he called cheerfully, heading toward the study.

“Oh, and—!” Yun Jiao suddenly remembered something. “Make sure you finish reading the books on the shelf. We have a monthly exam tomorrow!”

The old man tripped mid-step, nearly face-planting.

MMP!

Why is there another test?

Hadn’t she said once they passed the previous assessment, there’d be no more studying?!

“Grandmaster’s been in a bad mood lately,” Yun Jiao said mildly, “so… you understand.”

“…”

Understand my ass! he thought miserably. I don’t want to understand!

Poor old man.

Yun Jiao ignored his wilted expression and picked up a book on artifact crafting as she walked back to her room. She needed to finish designing the bowl-shaped magical tool before it was too late.

Just as she was about to calculate the crafting success rate without using spiritual energy, her communication charm flickered. A familiar male voice spoke:

“Daoist Yun, how have you been lately?”

“Master Xu?” Yun Jiao blinked. They’d been back for almost a month now, and during that time, most messages had come from Elder Jiao—usually questions about formation arrays. Honestly, Yun Jiao had begun to suspect the old man’s mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be. After fielding so many of his questions, she’d finally tweaked the charm to limit how many times he could contact her in a day.

But Master Xu contacting her himself? That was new.

“Is something wrong? Or… is this about a Hall assignment?” she asked. Unlike Coin-ranked masters, Flower-ranked ones were required to take on certain tasks annually—but the higher pay made it worthwhile.

“No, nothing like that,” Xu said, his tone warm but hesitant. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you, Daoist Yun—if you’d be willing to consider it.”

“Please, go ahead.”

He hesitated a moment, then continued, voice dropping lower. “Daoist Yun, your cultivation is profound, and you also practice spiritual medicine. Last time, when we witnessed your array techniques… it was clear you possessed knowledge of formations long thought lost.” His tone softened further, tinged with both admiration and embarrassment. “You hail from the Qingyang Sect, a lineage of pure heritage—it is no surprise you know such things. Still, it is humbling.”

He paused again, then sighed quietly. “To be frank, since the Misty Demon Cataclysm five hundred years ago, our Daoist sects have lost nearly half our disciples—most of them the elites of their generations. Many ancient sects perished entirely. Countless teachings were lost forever. The formation arrays you employ—most of them no longer exist anywhere in the modern Daoist world. Therefore…”

“You want me to teach them to you,” Yun Jiao said, getting straight to the point.

Master Xu’s voice faltered. “…I realize it’s a lot to ask—”

“Sure.”

“…Formation knowledge is usually sect-secret, so we wouldn’t dare—wait, what?” His tone jumped from solemn to shocked. “You—you agreed?!”

“Mm.” Yun Jiao said matter-of-factly. “If you’re willing to learn, that’s great. Knowledge should never have barriers.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “So? What do you want to start with—basic formations, or the compound ones?”

Master Xu was silent for a moment, overcome with emotion. He had fully expected a scolding, maybe even a permanent falling-out. Instead, she’d agreed without hesitation.

He nearly burst into tears. What a saintly Daoist! Truly a divine friend!

“I must confess, Daoist Yun, you are indeed of grand virtue—worthy of being the disciple of the Benevolent Celestial Sovereign,” he said fervently, pouring out praise like a fountain. “Truly a heart that embraces all under heaven! In that case, it’s settled—I’ll inform the various sects at once. Once we have the Qingyang Sect leader’s permission, we can begin selecting students.”

“…The sect leader?” Yun Jiao blinked. “But I’m not the sect leader.”

“Eh?” Xu paused. “Didn’t you say there are only two of you in Qingyang—yourself and… Daoist Bai?”

“Yes, but I’m not the leader.”

“Then… the Qingyang Sect leader is…?”

“Old Bai—Bai Yu.”

“……”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

That old man?!

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(End of Chapter)