Time Travel: The Tsundere Junior Sister Goes Crazy

Shen Yueshi, a person who is afraid to go to the toilet at night, now actually entered the cave to investigate a case. This is simply too magical. In order to save her own life.

What does this mere cave mean? She must break this plot.

The cave collapsed. I originally thought that Jun Yi would be the villain in this plot, but he didn't appear until three hours later. The immortal road is long, and the heart is heading home.

Shen Yue sat on the edge of the bluestone cliff, watching the morning mist slowly flow through the valley, the spiritual energy condensed in his fingertips rising and falling gently with his breathing.

Three years of cultivation are like the clouds and mist in the mountains. As they gather and disperse, they have already changed their original appearance.

When she first entered the immortal world, she always felt that cultivating immortality was a journey of fighting against the heavens for her life.

At that time, the introductory skills given by my master were curled up, and each page was filled with dense annotations. I often studied the skills hard under the candlelight at night, always hoping to break through the Qi Refining Stage as soon as possible and fly with a sword like my senior brothers and sisters in the sect.

The world at that time was simple and straightforward. Realm was the yardstick, spiritual power was the confidence, and even in dreams one was counting the number of times one drew Qi into the body.

The change began when he went to Black Wind Valley to collect elixirs.

To snatch a hundred-year-old spiritual ginseng, she argued with a fellow disciple, and finally came to blows. Although she managed to obtain the ginseng with her wit, she was attacked by a demon beast on her way back, and her spiritual power was exhausted, so she fell off a cliff.

In a coma, she seemed to fall into a boundless sea of stars, with countless points of light flowing around her - that was the most original spiritual energy between heaven and earth. They shuttled slowly, sometimes gathering into rivers, sometimes scattering into stars, never competing for them, but maintaining their own order.

When she woke up, she was lying in a cave. The ginseng was nowhere to be found, but the wound on her left arm caused by the vines was warm.

When I looked down, I found that there were a few inconspicuous healing herbs wrapped around the wound. The dew condensed on the leaves was slowly seeping into the skin, bringing a hint of coolness.

At that moment, I suddenly understood that there is no need to fight for the gifts between heaven and earth. Plants and trees have spirits, and all things have feelings. True opportunities are never pursued deliberately.

After recovering from her injury, she no longer obsessed with the length of her daily training.

In the early morning, I would go to the back mountain to listen to the sound of pine trees and watch how the morning light shines through the branches and leaves and flows with the spiritual energy; in the evening, I would sit quietly by the stream and feel how the rhythm of the stream hitting the pebbles resonates with the meridians.

Once after a rainstorm, she saw that the branches of the ancient pine trees on the cliff were broken by the strong wind, but new buds sprouted at the broken ends. The tender green swayed in the wind and rain, revealing a vitality that was more tenacious than that of the thousand-year-old trees.

She suddenly understood that cultivation is not about being stubborn and unchanging, but about being flexible and adaptable like plants.

I once thought that magic weapons were the support on the road to becoming an immortal, and I worked hard to accumulate spirit stones in exchange for magic weapons.

Until last year's sect competition, when she took to the field with her newly acquired spirit sword, she was defeated by a senior sister who wielded only a wooden sword. The senior sister's sword moves were ordinary, but she always managed to adapt to her attacks and neutralize their force, like a spring breeze blowing across the lake, leaving no trace but carrying power.

After the competition, the senior sister said, "The magic weapon is an extension of the hand, and the heart is the source of power. If the mind is not calm, even the best magic weapon is just a stubborn stone."

That sentence left her stunned for a long time. After returning home, she put the spiritual sword aside and practiced the most basic sword moves with a wooden sword every day. She actually realized new sword meanings in the boring repetition.

Now she often helps out in the herb garden. Watching the magical herbs unfurl their leaves in the morning dew, listening to the bees buzzing among the flowers, she suddenly realizes that these tiny lives are also practicing spiritual cultivation.

Spiritual herbs absorbing the essence of the sun and the moon is a form of cultivation, bees spreading pollen is also a form of cultivation, and even the insects decomposing dead branches in the soil are fulfilling the mission of the cycle of heaven and earth.

It turns out that the great way is not in profound skills, but in the endless cycle of all things.

A few days ago, when I was sorting out old things, I came across the practice diary I wrote when I first entered the immortal sect. The words were full of desire for power and anxiety about the future.

At that time, I always wanted to change my fate and get rid of worldly constraints. But now, I understand through breathing day after day that true freedom is never about being above the heavens and the earth, but about living in harmony with all things.

Just like how she was circulating her spiritual power at this moment, she no longer pursued speed and intensity, but followed the rhythm of heaven and earth, allowing the spiritual energy to flow naturally in the meridians like a stream, warm and long.

The setting sun painted the valley a warm orange. Shen Yue stood up and dusted off his clothes. The spiritual energy in his palms melted into the wind, causing the fallen leaves around him to swirl gently.

She remembered what her master once said: "The path to immortality is long. What you cultivate is the technique, what you understand is the Tao, and what you return to is the heart."

I didn’t understand the deep meaning of it before, but now I know that those nights of hard practice, those moments of endless struggle, and those moments of despair when I fell to the bottom of the valley are all part of the practice.