Quick Wear: The paranoid beauty grabs the waist and spoils her

The early morning at Zizhu Peak is awakened by the lingering purple spiritual mist and the clear bird calls among the bamboo leaves.

Yin Nanxiang woke naturally at first light. The wounds from climbing the ladder had mostly healed thanks to the Qingning Dew, and more importantly, her inner "roll king" instinct could no longer be suppressed.

A new environment, a powerful master, and an unknown technique...

Everything filled her with an urgent desire to start practicing immediately.

She quickly tidied herself up, still wearing the plain white inner disciple uniform, with her long hair neatly tied up, revealing a cold and focused face.

Pushing open the door of the bamboo garden, the cool morning air mixed with rich spiritual energy rushed into the lungs, refreshing one's spirit.

She had a clear goal and walked straight towards the main hall on the top of the peak - Liuyun Hall.

Outside the Liuyun Palace, there was silence, with only the rustling sound of the wind blowing through the purple marrow bamboo forest.

The palace door was closed, as if it was still asleep.

Nan Xiang didn't hesitate at all. She raised her hand and knocked on the palace door. Her voice was clear, neither light nor heavy, with her usual decisiveness.

"Master, I, Yin Nanxiang, the disciple, have come to ask for advice on cultivation."

Inside the palace.

Jiang Ruochen was indeed still "sleeping".

He lay on his side on a large and comfortable couch covered with thick velvet. His long, dark hair spread across the snow-white pillow like silk, forming a stark contrast with his soft, snow-white nightgown with a slightly open collar.

After the great war between immortals and demons a thousand years ago, he abandoned his asceticism and fell in love with this kind of worldly enjoyment, indulging in laziness and leisure, as if to make up for all the relaxation he had missed in the past.

Sleep is no longer necessary for him, but this ritualistic laziness is the comfort zone he has carved out for himself.

At this moment, the rhythmic knock on the door and the cold voice of the girl, like a stone thrown into a calm lake, suddenly broke his peaceful dream (although he was not actually dreaming).

Her delicate brows knitted together in a barely perceptible frown, her long, dense eyelashes trembling a few times before slowly opening. Her usually indifferent eyes, now misty with a shimmer of fresh awakening, quickly gathered within them a hint of disturbed displeasure.

Waking up in a bad mood.

In the vast Xuantian Sect, from the sect master and elders to the disciples of each peak, everyone knows that Master Su Yun of Zizhu Peak has a taboo that cannot be touched - he especially hates having his sweet dreams disturbed in the early morning.

However, the voice outside the door...

Recognizing the young, thorny, and incredibly stubborn disciple he had just accepted yesterday, Jiang Ruochen's displeasure faded slightly, like morning mist. Instead, a complex mix of emotions took its place: helplessness? Amusement? Perhaps even a hint of...indulgence, something he hadn't even noticed.

He did not stand up immediately, but instead adjusted his posture, becoming half leaning and half leaning.

He lazily propped his head with one hand, the collar of his snow-white nightgown sliding down further as he did so, revealing a graceful collarbone and a small sliver of his cold, white, and strong chest. A few strands of his dark hair fell playfully, brushing against his handsome jaw and the slightly open collar of his shirt.

He himself may not have realized that this unconscious posture, coupled with the laziness of just waking up and his peerless appearance, formed a thrilling and tempting picture in the hazy morning light.

"Come in." He spoke, his voice slightly hoarse, a little deeper than usual, like a feather gently scratching the tip of his heart.

The hall door opened, and Yin Nanxiang strode in. Her mind and eyes were filled with her cultivation plan, and her steps were swift, filled with an indomitable spirit. However, the moment her gaze fell upon the figure lying on the couch in the inner hall, her steps seemed to suddenly hit an invisible wall, slowing abruptly and finally stopping a few steps away from the couch.

The morning light filtered through the carved window lattices, softly spilling into the hall, just enough to outline the silhouette of the person lazily leaning on the couch.

A soft couch with dark silver-purple patterns, snow-white nightgown, loose black hair, skin as cold as jade... and the scenery vaguely visible under the loose lapels.

His narrow and long phoenix eyes were half open and half closed, with a natural hint of red at the corners of his eyes. His eyes were hazy, as if he was half drunk, and he was looking over lazily.

Yin Nanxiang's breathing paused slightly.

She has always been emotionally dull, devoted to Taoism, and almost never pays attention to her appearance.

But at this moment, an inexplicable, unfamiliar feeling quietly gripped her.

It's not stunning, but a kind of... strange atmosphere where the air around seems to become sticky, ambiguous, and makes people feel a little at a loss.

She felt as if her sight was burned by the cold white light, and subconsciously lowered her eyes quickly, avoiding the lazy gaze and fixing her eyes firmly on the spirit beast carpet under her feet.

"Master."

Her voice was a little tighter than usual, with a deliberately maintained respect.

"Disciple, please tell me when will the class start today?"

Jiang Ruochen took in the little disciple's momentary pause, evasive gaze, and forced composure.

He didn't point it out, but the lingering depression in his heart from being woken up seemed to completely dissipate, and was replaced by a very faint, indescribable interest.

He did not answer her question. His eyes lingered for a moment on her lowered head, revealing her slender white neck, and then slowly swept across her straight but slightly stiff back.

After a long moment, a very soft laugh escaped his graceful lips. The laugh was low and hoarse, with an indescribable meaning, like a mockery, but also as if it was imbued with a hint of the bitterness and sobriety of seeing through everything after a thousand years.

"Teaching? Cultivation?" He repeated the two words, his tone drawn out. "Xiao Nanxiang, besides becoming stronger, is there anything else you can think of?"

Nan Xiang was startled and subconsciously looked up, but when she met his deep eyes that seemed to be able to see through people's hearts, she quickly lowered her head and insisted:

"I am a dull disciple, but only by diligently practicing can I live up to Master's grace in accepting me and live up to the great Dao's affinity with me."

Jiang Ruochen looked at her, completely unmoved and focused on cultivation. A faint, complex emotion flashed across his eyes, so fast it seemed like an illusion. He suddenly felt a little bored.

Whatever.

He casually flicked the air with his free hand. A streak of light flew out from the storage ring on his fingertips, landing on the carpet in front of Nan Xiang with a soft "snap".

It was a booklet made of neither gold nor jade, and it felt cool to the touch.

On the cover are three ancient characters that are simple and majestic, and contain a certain Taoist charm - "Xuanyuan Heart Sutra".

"Take it."

Jiang Ruochen's voice returned to its usual indifferent tone, with no emotion in his voice.

"This is the fundamental method that Master cultivates. Practice it yourself. If you have any questions..."

He paused, as if thinking for a moment, and said, "Come and ask me in three days."

After he finished speaking, without even waiting for Nan Xiang's reaction, he moved his fingers on his knees imperceptibly.

A gentle but irresistible spiritual power instantly enveloped Yin Nanxiang and gently pushed her out of Liuyun Palace.

The palace door creaked behind her and quickly closed, isolating the inside and outside.

Nan Xiang stood outside the tightly closed palace door, holding the Xuanyuan Heart Sutra in her hand, which still carried a faint cool fragrance of bamboo leaves, and was a little stunned for a moment.

Is this... over?

What about lectures? What about mentoring? What about one-on-one tutoring?

She looked down at the top-level mental method in her hand, which was obviously not an ordinary one, and then looked up at the quiet Liuyun Palace in front of her, which seemed to have fallen asleep again.

Master...it's indeed like that.

It seemed perfunctory and casual, directly throwing the most core skills to her to figure out on her own, euphemistically calling it "practice by yourself." This approach was very Jiang Ruochen.

But what he was given was something of such weight. The Xuanyuan Heart Sutra was definitely not a technique that ordinary disciples could access.

A flicker of understanding flashed across Nan Xiang's cold eyes. Her master's actions were always so contradictory and unpredictable. He seemed to be playing it safe, but in reality, his intentions were unpredictable.

She squeezed the jade book in her hand tightly, and the cold touch made her calm down completely.

Fine. Self-discovery was exactly what she wanted.

She did not stop, turned around, holding the Heart Sutra, and walked towards her bamboo garden with firm steps.

The morning light stretched her shadow long, casting it on the purple stone path.

Inside the Flowing Cloud Hall, after the door closed, Jiang Ruochen remained in that languid position, his fingers supporting his head unconsciously tapping his temples. Silence returned to the hall, with only his inaudible, self-deprecating whispers lingering in the air:

"Heh... the fate of the Great Dao... little girl, I hope you won't regret it in the future..."