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The South Heavenly Gate looked exactly as she remembered, except lazier. The white tiger that once stood rigid with duty was snoring against the corridor wall, and the guard beside it barely cracked an eye open before letting it fall shut again. Yan Dan passed through without breaking stride. A thousand years ago, with the evil god still walking the realms, four soldiers would have been at every post, backs straight, eyes sharp. Now even immortals had gone soft in peacetime. Born in hardship, she thought. Dying in comfort. She turned west. Her master lived west. She still hadn't decided how to arrive. Announce herself at the gate like a proper disciple? Drop from the clouds unannounced? A thousand years had passed, but her face hadn't aged a day. He would know her. She kept walking, and the glazed roof tiles of his immortal residence caught the light in the distance. She picked up her pace. A pale blue figure came around the corner fast and nearly walked straight into her....

Twenty years ago, Cai Pingshu was not the only woman the martial world feared and admired. There was also Luo Yuanrong of Taichu Temple. She was the orphaned niece of Canghuan Zi, the temple's leader at the time — his late sister's daughter, taken in young and trained with every care. Where Cai Pingshu was blunt and battle-hardened, Luo Yuanrong was her opposite: beautiful, composed, sharp as winter air. The martial world called her the Frost Fairy, and the name fit. She had three senior brothers. Wu Yuanying, the eldest, was bold and heroic, beloved by all who knew him. Wang Yuanjing, the second, was gentle and thoughtful. Qiu Yuanfeng, the third, was hot-tempered and impossible to reason with. For years, Luo Yuanrong was the youngest and most cherished disciple in Taichu Temple — doted on, protected, never doubting her place. Her eldest brother often climbed to Wanshui Qianshan Cliff with a jar of wine, and she went with him. That was how she came to know the Yin sisters....

Qi Yunke stepped between them, his voice steady. "Sima An's crimes speak for themselves. Brother Qiu acted with justice. The matter is settled. Let us enter the hall." Song Shijun said nothing. He filed the insult away and walked forward. Qiu Yuanfeng wasn't finished. He wore the smile of a man who knows exactly how deep a blade will go. "Since Master Qi has spoken, Taichu Temple has no further objections. I do suggest, however, that Master Song conduct a thorough housecleaning upon his return." Song Shijun's expression frosted over. "Meaning what, exactly?" "Those in the know will say Guangtian Gate was simply too occupied to hear Leigong Stronghold's cries for help." Qiu Yuanfeng's tone was almost pleasant. "Those who don't know might assume Sima An greased a few palms, and certain elders found it convenient to look the other way." Song Shijun had never been spoken to like this in his life. Before he could...

Song Shijun scanned the empty seat reserved for Taichu Observatory's leader. "It's almost time. Still no sign of them. What does Sect Leader Qi think?" Qi Yunke's expression tightened, but Venerable Fakong smoothly filled the silence. "As this old monk passed Fengyun Peak earlier, I saw Master Qiu and his group just beginning their ascent. Taichu Observatory brought many people this time. They'll be a little while yet." Song Shijun clicked his tongue. "He always has to cut it to the last second." Yang Heying bristled as if personally insulted. "Coming to an ancestors' memorial, why drag so many people along? Showing off at a time like this!" He said this, conveniently forgetting that he had also wanted to bring an army of disciples for exactly the same reason. Qi Yunke fixed his gaze somewhere neutral in the distance. Since taking a wife and inheriting the sect leadership, he had learned that strategic deafness was the sin...