Chapter Two: The Magic of Paper Cutting

As dusk fell, they arrived at White Tiger Ridge.

This place lay a hundred li south of the Mountain of No Delusion.

A young man and woman, both with long swords at their waists, had just reached this spot when the sky suddenly changed. Dark clouds gathered thick and low, a sign that wind and rain were about to come.

It was Gu Xian and Senior Sister Liu.

The two of them found a ruined mountain god temple in the hills and decided to spend the night there.

The walls around the broken temple had long since collapsed. Inside, weeds grew wild, and only the main hall still offered a frail shelter against wind and rain.

They stepped inside. The shrine within had already fallen to ruin; the doors and windows were shattered, and dust covered everything.

They set up a pot and cooked dinner. Just as they were eating, a muffled thunderclap suddenly boomed across the sky.

A heavy rain followed, the drops as large as beans, quickly gathering into streams beneath the eaves and then splashing and scattering through the courtyard.

Senior Sister Liu glanced outside and said, “Little Gu, good thing we took shelter in this broken temple. Otherwise we’d be drenched.”

Gu Xian frowned and sent a warning through their shared spiritual link. “Senior Sister, in a place like this, we must be cautious. Tonight we should take turns keeping watch, lest some evil thing seize the chance to slip in.”

Senior Sister Liu nodded firmly and answered in the same way, “All right.”

Though Liu Suyi was usually lively and unruly, when it came to matters of consequence she was never careless, much less the sort to treat their safety as a joke.

By nightfall, the rain outside still showed no sign of easing.

Gu Xian and his senior sister sat back to back, each meditating in silence, regulating their breathing and tempering their spiritual qi.

The cultivation method originally practiced on Mount No Delusion was a manual called the Spirit Nurturing Art, handed down by the sect in years past. Later, after Gu Xian had accumulated enough merit, he exchanged it through the No Delusion Immortal Mirror with one of the mountain’s punished disciples for the sect’s foundational scripture, the No Delusion Dao Canon. Only then did everyone’s cultivation begin to show some real improvement.

But the results remained limited for one simple reason: they were too poor.

Cultivation required wealth, companions, methods, and land. The word wealth alone was enough to reduce countless brilliant talents to mediocrity.

No one knew how long had passed. The campfire before them crackled softly, while all around was silent save for the patter of rain.

Gu Xian suddenly opened his eyes and looked warily toward the courtyard outside.

His senior sister was roused by him as well, and sent a questioning thought. “What is it?”

“My cicada-silk talisman at the doorway has been triggered. Someone is coming. Be careful in a moment.”

Sure enough, after a short while, a handsome scholar with a faintly pale complexion walked in. He carried a paper umbrella, bore a book chest on his back, and held in his hand a brand-new book soaked by the rain as he entered the hall.

Seeing Gu Xian and the other sitting by the fire, he visibly froze. “Eh? There are people here?”

Then he smiled and explained, “The rain came down too suddenly. There’s nowhere else nearby to take shelter. I beg your pardon, both of you.”

Gu Xian and his senior sister gave slight nods. “Feel free, sir.”

The hem of the scholar’s robe was damp from the rain, so he moved closer to the fire to dry it.

Seeing that no one stopped him, he simply sat down beside the flames.

Gu Xian asked, “Where has the young sir come from?”

The scholar seemed utterly guileless and revealed everything about himself without reservation.

It turned out that he was a disciple of Qingyang Academy in the prefectural city. He had gone traveling for two reasons: first, to broaden his horizons; second, because his cultivation had reached a bottleneck and he hoped to find an opportunity for a breakthrough.

Having crossed into this world three years ago, Gu Xian had gradually come to understand its many cultivation traditions. Confucian, Mohist, Daoist, Legalist, Military; the hundred schools of thought all had their own ways of cultivation.

Beyond that, even pouring ink with a brush, paper-cutting and painting, playing instruments, forging iron, casting swords, and other such arts could all be paths of cultivation.

In this world, the cultivation methods were nothing if not bizarre and varied, open to all.

The scholar practiced by nourishing his qi and refining his intent, writing books and composing treatises, and using righteous energy to suppress evil spirits and demons.

Senior Sister Liu nodded. “Qingyang Academy is in Xuan Prefecture, hundreds of li from here. You’ve quite the endurance, sir.”

He smiled bashfully. “There’s no helping it. The academy’s rules are strict. If one fails to break through to the Qi Sea realm before reaching the age of twenty, one is ordered to withdraw.”

From time to time, the scholar recounted the strange and amusing things he had encountered on his travels, while Gu Xian and his senior sister shared stories from their own cultivation on the mountain. The conversation never turned cold.

Time passed. The rain outside gradually softened. When it came time to rest, the scholar volunteered to keep watch, after all, he had arrived last.

Gu Xian readily agreed. Meeting Senior Sister Liu’s puzzled gaze, he merely shook his head slightly and offered no explanation.

Then Gu Xian and his senior sister leaned back to back and drifted into deep sleep.

Once they had fallen asleep, the scholar’s smile vanished at once, and a cold, vicious light appeared in his eyes.

He stared at the fire before him and drew a quiet breath through his nose. What delicious blood-meat.

At that moment, a gust of cold wind swept in through the broken doorway and bent the campfire sharply, making it hiss and howl.

With lightning speed, the scholar flicked two pieces of paper cut into beast shapes from his sleeve.

The paper scraps solidified in midair, transforming into two centipedes that shot toward Gu Xian and the others.

The instant they came near, a faint halo suddenly lit up over Gu Xian and his senior sister’s bodies, like a barrier that kept the centipedes from crossing in.

Both of them opened their eyes at once.

Gu Xian smiled faintly. “Knew you wouldn’t stay honest.”

Having been exposed, the scholar showed no fear whatsoever. He did not even look surprised. Instead, he asked with interest, “When did you notice?”

At that moment, even his voice had changed. It was no longer that of a young scholar; in its place came the deep, mellow voice of a middle-aged man.

After a moment of silence, Gu Xian said softly, “I knew you were no ordinary man the moment you walked in. Once you finished speaking about the academy, I was certain you had a problem.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

As he spoke, he raised his palm slightly, and threads of righteous energy drifted within it.

Gu Xian smiled. “Your righteous energy is indeed pure, but you forgot one thing.”

“The book in your hand was too new.”

The scholar immediately understood.

Yes. Qingyang Academy was a sacred ground of the Confucian school. How could a student who had studied for many years be carrying such a brand-new book around so casually?

What was more, rain had already dripped onto the book in his hand and wrinkled the pages. How could a true scholar treat a book so carelessly?

He let out a dry laugh. Holding the book had been meant to confirm his identity as a reader, but he had not expected the other side to observe so closely. Instead, it had backfired.

The scholar rose slowly, utterly unafraid of being ambushed by the two of them.

After standing, he stretched lazily. “I thought this would be a simple little job. Looks like I’ll have to put in some effort after all.”

The words had barely fallen when he flicked his sleeve again, and more paper-cuts flew out, instantly transforming into venomous insects like centipedes, toads, and scorpions.

They surged toward Gu Xian and his senior sister like a tidal wave.

Gu Xian remained calm as ever. Senior Sister Liu sprang to her feet, and the long sword at her waist flashed from its scabbard with a chill gleam.

Sharp sword qi filled the hall. Each time she struck, a string of venomous insects was cut cleanly in half.

In mere moments, not a single one remained.

The scholar showed not the slightest anger. Instead, his eyes lit up, and he took the initiative to clap and praise her. “Excellent swordsmanship.”