As the Qingyun Sect’s flying boat pierced through the sea of clouds, Li Mingyang clutched the railing with white-knuckled fingers. This was way more intense than any roller coaster—no safety measures, just a wooden deck buffeted by turbulent air currents and a freezing wind that sliced at his cheeks like knives.

  “First time on a flying artifact, junior brother?” The senior sister guiding him chuckled behind a sleeve, the jade token on her waist—engraved with “Zixiao Peak”—glistening warmly in the sunlight. “Relax, you won’t fall off.”

  Li Mingyang forced a smile, grumbling internally: Sure, maybe you immortal cultivators won’t die if you fall. But I just transmigrated here—I'm a complete noob!

  Suddenly, the clouds parted—and what he saw made him forget his fear. Seventy-two towering peaks pierced the clouds like blades, with a magnificent white jade palace perched atop the tallest one, glowing under the setting sun. A waterfall cascaded off a cliff, turning mid-air into a misty rainbow. Even more surreal, several cultivators flew past on wine gourds—one of which had a yawning orange cat perched atop it.

  “Those are senior brothers from Wine Immortal Peak,” the senior sister explained, following his gaze. “Zixiao Peak may be quiet, but our Mistveil Tea is a treasure fiercely contested by the other peaks.”

  As the boat began its descent, Li Mingyang noticed that while the other peaks were bathed in brilliant sunlight, Zixiao Peak alone was shrouded in a soft violet mist—like a chunk of amethyst sunken beneath a lake.

  “We’re here.” The senior sister formed a hand seal and stowed the flying vessel. Li Mingyang felt the ground disappear beneath his feet—just as he was about to scream, a gentle force caught him, lowering him gently onto a moss-covered stone marker. The words “Zixiao Peak” were barely legible, and beside them were crudely carved characters that read: Think thrice before joining. Leaving is even harder.

  “This is… the welcome message?” Li Mingyang’s mouth twitched.

  The senior sister said nothing, just smiled as she led him up a stone stairway. Oddly, with every step forward, the stairs extended themselves—when he looked back, the path had already vanished into the mist.

  “Defensive formation,” she said. “We don’t have many people on our peak. Master says we need to be extra cautious.”

  On a plaza halfway up the mountain, several disciples practicing sword techniques turned in perfect unison to stare. Li Mingyang felt a chill down his spine—why did their expressions look just like lab mice when a new test subject appears?

  “New junior brother!” A round-faced girl bounced over, silver bells jingling in her hair. “I’m your Sixth Senior Sister, Su Xiaoxiao! I’ll be teaching you how to get around. Just a heads-up: the forbidden area behind the mountain has man-eating flowers, and a spirit monkey lives in the kitchen rafters—it steals underwear. Oh, and—”

  “Xiaoxiao!” The senior sister scolded. “Don’t scare him.” She turned to Li Mingyang with an apologetic smile. “She cultivates the ‘All-Knowing Path.’ She needs to recite a thousand pieces of trivia daily to improve her cultivation.”

  The settling-in process was surprisingly… normal. The guest room was humble but clean, with neatly folded sets of purple disciple robes in the wardrobe. A crystal vase with wildflowers even adorned the desk. That was until Li Mingyang opened the window—

  “Aaahh!”

  A pale face hung upside down outside. On closer inspection, it was a lanky young man with a rusty cleaver strapped to his waist, staring at him with vertical amber pupils.

  “Fifth Senior Brother!” Su Xiaoxiao’s voice called from a distance. “How many times have I told you—stop hanging outside the new guy’s window! Did you forget the messenger from Danxia Peak peed himself last month?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The youth vanished with a whoosh, reappearing moments later through the front door, stiffly handing Li Mingyang a bamboo tube.

  “A gift,” he said.

  Inside coiled a jade-green snake, flicking its tongue at him.

  “Uh… thanks, senior brother?” Li Mingyang said, forcing a smile—only to have the snake slither up his wrist and melt into his skin, becoming a vivid blue-green tattoo.

  “Defensive spirit gu. Won’t die,” the Fifth Senior Brother said tersely.

  At dinner, Li Mingyang finally met the rest of the peak’s disciples. The First Senior Brother was a cold-faced youth constantly polishing his sword. The Second Senior Sister was gentle as water—but kept staring at people’s necks. The Third Senior Brother clutched a wine jug, rambling drunken nonsense. The Fourth Senior Sister was absent—reportedly in seclusion, researching “how to make explosions more artistic.”

  The most terrifying was their Master.

  When the Zixiao Immortal appeared, the entire dining hall dropped in temperature. Candle flames turned a ghostly blue. His skeletal fingers tapped the table—each tap sent a chill crawling up Li Mingyang’s spine.

  “Fire spiritual root?” The old man’s voice echoed as if from afar. “Interesting…”

  That night, Li Mingyang tossed and turned. The tattoo on his wrist glowed faintly with heat, and strange rustling noises came from outside. He drifted into sleep only at dawn—and dreamed of standing in the ruins of the Li Estate, flames dancing around him. But the fire… was an icy violet.

  The next morning, Su Xiaoxiao dragged him out to tour Zixiao Peak.

  “We may be few, but we’re all monsters—uh, geniuses!” she said, counting on her fingers. “First Senior Brother’s sword can slice through time. Second Senior Sister is actually—oh wait, I can’t say that. Don’t go near the forbidden zone. Last time someone from Danxia Peak wandered in, they came back with a compulsion to kneel before anything round...”

  Just then, a deafening explosion rocked the mountain. Su Xiaoxiao didn’t even blink. “It’s fine. Fourth Senior Sister is just refining Thundercrackers again.”

  On the way to the Scripture Hall, they ran into disciples from other peaks. The moment those disciples saw their purple robes, they all stepped back three paces.

  “The Zixiao freaks are here!” someone cried. The crowd scattered like frightened birds. Only one bold disciple from Danxia Peak dared whisper from behind a rock: “Friend, be careful! The last junior brother they had was—”

  Thunk! A pine nut dropped from the sky, smacking him square on the forehead. Fifth Senior Brother was somehow squatting in a treetop, munching on pine kernels.

  At the Scripture Hall, the old librarian’s beard bristled at the sight of their token. “Borrowing Basic Incantations again? You haven’t even returned Alchemy for Beginners!“

  “We did return it,” Su Xiaoxiao said innocently. “Well… sort of. The furnace exploded and took the roof with it, but…”

  Li Mingyang couldn’t hold it anymore. “Why is everyone so scared of us?”

  The old man and Su Xiaoxiao exchanged a look, then smiled cryptically.

  “You’ll understand once you see Master angry,” the librarian said in a low voice. “Eighty years ago, when the Demon Sect laid siege to Qingyun, all eleven peaks suffered heavy losses—except Zixiao. Heh. Even now, demon manuals still speak of the ‘Violet Reaper’ legend…”

  On the way back, Li Mingyang noticed wildflowers along the path bending away from his shadow. Su Xiaoxiao hummed cheerfully ahead, silver bells jingling in her hair, oblivious to her junior brother’s increasingly pale face.

  That night, Li Mingyang woke from a nightmare—and saw a silhouette standing by the window. The sword tassel swayed softly in the moonlight.

  “Master wants to see you,” First Senior Brother said coldly.

  Zixiao Immortal’s cave was simpler than expected. Glowing vines covered the stone walls, and the old man sat cross-legged on a meditation mat, half-shrouded in shadows. Li Mingyang knelt before him, only to realize his shadow was twisting into unnatural shapes.

  “Your spiritual root…” The old man tapped the air, and Li Mingyang felt the flame in his dantian pulled outward—forming a red orb between them. “Interesting. It carries the aura of Time Sand.”

  Li Mingyang’s heart skipped a beat. Time Sand? Could it be…

  “No need to hide it,” the old man said, fingers brushing the orb and drawing out strands of silver starlight. “Time-travelers are recorded in the ancient texts—though they haven’t appeared in nearly a thousand years.”

  Suddenly, the cave trembled violently. The vines surged, weaving a cocoon-like shield around Li Mingyang. The Immortal’s voice echoed from every direction:

  “From this day forth, you will cultivate the Chrono-Void Sutra under my guidance—”

  Thunder roared outside the cocoon, while in Li Mingyang’s mind, a single memory flashed:

  The expression of the young boy he had saved… now that he thought about it, in the boy’s pupils…