Fourteen thousand and fourteen

As soon as class ended, Song Chi was the first to dash out of the classroom. It had reached the point where, even if Immortal Mo Shubai hadn’t yet exited through the front door, she would already be slipping out the back.

There was no other way; the senior disciples of the Azure Sword Sect were just too competitive when it came to missions. Even though she had gotten along well with Senior Sister An Yu, snatching missions still depended on speed.

Especially for sound cultivators, who barely had any offensive skills in the early stages, they usually stayed within the sect to take on tasks, unlike sword cultivators who dared to venture out as soon as they reached the sixth layer of Qi Refining.

Therefore, missions for sound cultivators were quite hard to grab.

Although Mo Shubai seemed accustomed to it, seeing her slip quietly along the wall at the entrance still made the immortal hold back a sigh of frustration.

Song Chi found his expression amusing every time. Few could ruffle his composure, given his striking beauty, which naturally invoked a protective tenderness. He was a prodigy from a prestigious family among the Eight Great Cultivation Clans. Yet, due to his free-spirited and unrestrained nature, he abandoned his status as the heir of his clan and resolutely joined the Azure Sword Sect under Master Xue Qiao.

Since Mo Shubai stopped calling her to the podium to compete with geniuses, Song Chi thought he was quite decent and no longer regarded him as a lifelong rival.

At the Azure Cloud Pavilion, she queued up at station twelve, right in front of Senior Sister An Yu.

Before Song Chi could speak, Senior Sister An Yu floated a jade mirror in front of her, showing a scene of her playing the zither—specifically, the final piece she had just performed.

Song Chi could only silently plead, "Can the cultivation world please stop being so gossip-obsessed?"

She had nothing to say.

Senior Sister An Yu chuckled, "You’re quite something. How many hearts do you think you’ve captivated?"

The senior sister next to her laughed too. Sister Li teased, "Song Chi, which one do you like? Why not tell us secretly?"

An Yu immediately leaned in as if to hear a whispered reply.

At that moment, Song Chi felt the entire mission hall go unusually quiet. She pushed An Yu’s face away in exasperation.

The geniuses’ hearts? Not a chance. They were the male leads of the heroine—completely irrelevant to her.

Senior Sister An Yu gave up teasing and said, "Immortal Xue Ji has a good mission, just waiting for you."

Song Chi shook her head. "I want to do a sound cultivation mission."

An Yu laughed, "So you’ve reached the second layer of Qi Refining? Alright, still watering the Dust Dissolving Grass?"

"Add a task to refine the Fire Thorn too."

An Yu nodded with a smile, "That does suit the piece you just learned today. Okay!"

With two mission plaques in hand, Song Chi returned to the herb garden.

This time, it took her half an incense stick’s time just to make the Dust Dissolving Grass sprout leaves. Senior Sister Wei Lingxiu, probably at the sixth layer of Qi Refining, succeeded with one watering.

Clearly, cultivating one’s power was crucial.

Song Chi ventured deeper into the herb garden. On a sloping grassy patch stood a barrier of fiery red thorns. The root and stem of this thorn grass were ingredients in forming foundational pills—not primary herbs, but small complementary spirit herbs.

Not very valuable.

The Fire Thorn required cutting the stems with golden spiritual energy, stimulating root growth.

Her piece, "Cold Snow Illuminates the Night," was meant for cutting those stems.

When she played it in class, Mo Shubai constantly spread spiritual energy around the students to avoid collateral damage.

Song Chi had no idea how powerful the piece’s attack was. Playing it once, she only managed to carve shallow cuts less than two millimeters deep on the thorny vines.

She almost buried her face in her hands.

This was it? Using this in a fight? It was like tickling someone.

Ridiculous.

She instinctively felt something was off. If the damage was so trivial, just grabbing a knife would be more satisfying. Even smashing the vines with her instrument would be more effective than a two-millimeter cut.

There had to be some subtle, elusive element she couldn’t grasp that was the real power.

Of course, this was just speculation. But none of the sound cultivation masters clearly explained this. Song Chi learned from two other immortals that they only told their disciples one word: "Comprehend."

Comprehend what? She couldn’t even look at this aspect of cultivation objectively.

With no other choice, she had to figure it out herself.

After playing "Cold Snow Illuminates the Night" for the duration of one incense stick, her spiritual energy was nearly gone and the task still unfinished. She knew from Senior Sister An Yu’s subtle lip movements that she probably expected Song Chi to sheepishly return and switch missions soon.

But she didn’t hurry off. She stroked her chin thoughtfully. That elusive element, though hard to catch, definitely existed.

After pondering for a long time without progress, she lazily tilted her head and played some random tunes.

This formation’s barrier was quite advanced—opaque and likely soundproof.

It was perfect for solitary contemplation.

And when she thought, she habitually plucked the strings—a habit from childhood, since her previous life involved playing music to survive.

Playing was effortless; her fingers automatically conjured melodies.

Suddenly, she sat upright, carefully reflecting on the spiritual energy arrangement she had unconsciously used.

To her surprise, the thorny vines nearby, riddled with wounds, were healing.

The piece she had played was truly soothing and sweet.

Song Chi had a sudden intuition: the offensive power of sound cultivation might originate from emotion.

She tried playing the piece again. Though the spiritual energy ratio wasn’t perfectly replicated, the vines still healed a small wound.

She couldn’t help but smile crookedly—she had discovered something.

Why didn’t the masters warn that sound cultivation’s key to mastery was emotion? But then again, that faint, drifting dust-like energy she couldn’t grasp wasn’t simply emotion; it was something more elusive and difficult to capture.

Better to leave it at "comprehend," letting practitioners speculate for themselves.

She then switched to "Spring Water Flow," which used water spiritual energy, and saw it indeed scattered energy to nurture the plants.

But nurturing and healing were two different matters.

The key point wasn’t there. She couldn’t capture that mysterious dust-like energy with the prescribed spiritual energy ratio.

She tried "Green Immortal Cloud," which used wood spiritual roots and had healing effects.

But the effect was far too weak compared to the small insight she had just gained.

Most importantly, she still couldn’t grasp that mystic energy.

Perhaps one needed to personally adjust the spiritual energy ratio to truly access that energy—and that was the true source of attack power.

No wonder a sound cultivator’s strength sometimes bore no relation to talent.

Only with the key of "comprehension," plus a balanced spiritual root, was one best suited for sound cultivation.

She thought about it and naturally it made sense. The more complex the spiritual root composition, the harder it was to balance the spiritual energy ratio, and the more difficult the technique to execute.

This was the only time she felt her spiritual root had some merit.

Before, she dreamed of having a root value of eighty—then Golden Core would be within reach and she could easily protect her entire family.

Now, she felt her spiritual root might be somewhat useful after all.

Song Chi resumed playing "Harmonious Joy," slightly adjusting the melody.

Sure enough, the healing effect doubled, and she smiled crookedly.

Then, as dusk fell, she rubbed her chin and glanced around, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

She switched to "Ambush from Ten Sides."

In terms of killing aura, no other piece could compare.

If the melody only affected spirit plants—since ordinary plants couldn’t be manipulated—she wouldn’t dare take such a risk.

Now, she thought, why not try?

Perhaps she wouldn’t even be able to unleash the attack power.

Soon, the sharp, deadly notes sounded softly in the growing darkness.

After class, Mo Shubai received a letter from the hall aunt, informing him of important matters for Jiang Linyue.

He sent a boy to Peach Blossom Mountain to summon Jiang Linyue. But the boy returned, reporting he couldn’t find Jiang Linyue—only that the boy had taken on a sound cultivation mission in the herb garden.

The boy lacked a permit and couldn’t enter the herb garden, so he reported back.

Mo Shubai didn’t give the boy a permit but rose and headed to the herb garden himself.

Jiang Linyue was very protective of his beautiful, slender, jointed hands, always taking good care of them. Yet now he had taken a mission in the herb garden, even if it was sound cultivation, which made Mo Shubai smile quietly.

He then invisibly approached the herb garden and quickly locked onto Jiang Linyue’s spiritual energy.

But as he neared, he heard zither music drifting softly from the mountainside.

There was a barrier there, but Jiang Linyue had stealthily created a slight gap with a tortoise shell, allowing the music to be heard.

The melody was leisurely, sweet, and incredibly beautiful—a piece Mo Shubai had never heard before.

The pipa’s tone was unmistakably Song Chi’s. Her music always carried a colder edge than others.

Of course, she knew how to disguise it, hiding the chill beneath gentle rhythms—something quite akin to his own style.

Mo Shubai waved his hand and saw through the fiery thorns to the pale, delicate girl seated there—it could only be Song Chi.

She seemed deep in thought, lazily plucking the strings.

Despite this, the beauty of the melody was calming and enchanting.

This new piece, like the impassioned one from the afternoon, captivated Mo Shubai.

He wondered deeply where this child had learned such wonders; it was hard to imagine a mere fourteen-year-old girl creating such moving music.

But it was truly happening before his eyes.

Suddenly, his gaze narrowed as her clear, delicate eyes—once lazily lowered—shone like stars fallen into the dusk.

She sat upright abruptly and played the piece again.

Then, a crooked smile revealed a few small, white teeth.

Her innocent face no longer held a trace of coyness.

Yet Mo Shubai knew that tiny fang would only deepen her admirers’ infatuation.

Looking down, he saw Jiang Linyue’s smile in the dusk was as radiant as spring flowers, his eyes sparkling with a “Just as expected” gleam.

Mo Shubai expanded his spiritual energy and spotted Ye Qingyu concealed against a tree on the mountainside.

His face was calm like a clear spring, but his eyes were intently focused on the small figure halfway up the mountain, especially when she smiled crookedly—he smiled back, as if he already knew what lay beneath her innocent facade.

Further searching the valley, Mo Shubai found another figure hidden nearby—one from the Mo family.

And deeper still, he found someone from the Su family, who looked somewhat shocked and then blushed.

Mo Shubai was speechless.

Soon, Song Chi seemed to have a breakthrough.

She began playing "Spring Water Flow" and "Green Immortal Cloud," though probably still unable to capture that elusive spiritual essence.

She returned to the sweet and serene melody, likely gaining more insight this time.

Her smile grew increasingly wicked.

She glanced around furtively, clearly plotting something big.

Suddenly, Mo Shubai heard the murderous tone of a new piece. A chill ran down his spine.

It was a new piece, yet the most intensely lethal melody he had ever heard.

“Ah! Damn!”

“Incredible! I’m impressed.”

“Oh no, it broke! What now? My spiritual stones!”

The piece abruptly cut off, bursting through a patch of fiery thorns.

Mo Shubai saw Jiang Linyue stand abruptly. Even those hiding nearby narrowed their eyes in surprise.

None of them, though at the sixth layer of Qi Refining, could likely wield a sound cultivation melody to such an extent.

They clearly hadn’t reached that level of comprehension.

Not only did they show subtle, teeth-gritting expressions, but even Mo Shubai found it hard to believe.