Seven thousand and seven

After the Immortal Master Mo Shubai introduced himself, he began to explain some basic music theory concepts such as the pentatonic scale and tonal modes. He only covered the essentials, then smiled and asked the disciples if they could play the qin.

“Yes!” the disciples eagerly responded.

Those who came to the Qingjian Sect to study music cultivation had likely been playing the qin since childhood. Especially the zheng and pipa—these two instruments were lethal weapons for those trained in musical arts. Thus, they were mandatory subjects.

Mo Shubai then displayed his own qin, and the disciples all revealed theirs as well.

Even Dai Jia, a sword cultivator, and Qi Zhenmo, a disciple of the Secret Fate Sect, could play the qin.

Qi Zhenmo’s instrument was far more precious than Song Chi’s. His qin’s high notes were clear and bright, its low tones deep and somber—a rare treasure. In her previous life, Song Chi had such a fine qin, but in this one, her family could not afford such luxury.

However, that did not matter to her. She could master a plain qin just as easily. After all, her heart truly loved music—both in this life and the last. Here, the qin referred to was the guzheng. The guqin, it was said, required at least a Golden Core stage to wield as a weapon through musical cultivation.

In her past life, Song Chi primarily played the pipa, with the guzheng, zhongruan, and liuqin as secondary instruments. Because of her broad interests and lack of focus, she dabbled in many instruments. Overall, her previous life was quite pleasant, immersed in the music she loved. Perhaps life was too easy, and heaven could not tolerate it, so she was cast into the cultivation world at a young age.

But this life, she still played music. Even more ambitiously—using melodies to kill, something she would never have dared to imagine before.

Immortal Master Mo Shubai first taught the disciples a piece resembling the gentle flow of spring water. From the style of the composition, one could hear the murmuring brook and the warm breeze of spring.

He handed out the sheet music, and sure enough, it was titled “Spring Water Flow.” Each note in the score had detailed instructions on how to apply spiritual energy, including specific requirements for the circulation of spiritual power.

Although the piece was simple, it was not easy to play.

Song Chi immediately understood why, before, when practicing at home and infusing her spiritual energy into the qin, she could not even stir a breeze, let alone use music to kill. Seeing the score now, she realized how many subtleties there were.

However, the Qingjian Sect was a bit stingy; even for such an elementary piece, they would only distribute one copy of the score per lesson, never all at once. Fortunately, “Spring Water Flow” was suitable for a task involving nurturing spirit plants, as the piece contained abundant water-type spiritual energy usage.

Each note’s spiritual energy application differed, requiring the coordination of three spiritual roots’ powers. A slight misstep would alter the melody.

After playing the piece himself, Mo Shubai asked the disciples to try.

Immediately, the classroom erupted into chaos, with dissonant sounds piercing the ears, making Song Chi both amused and exasperated.

As for her, she played flawlessly. Unlike others who had to adjust their spiritual energy based on their own conditions, she only needed to balance the three spiritual roots’ energy according to the score. The importance of equilibrium among the three roots became evident.

Her playing was steady, much like her usual qin practice.

With Song Chi’s acute hearing, she was certain no one else in the classroom matched her level. Those with less sensitive ears probably couldn’t even distinguish the differences in the performances of the talented disciples.

For example, Ermei, a newcomer seated in front, was an absolute prodigy but still slightly off pitch on several notes. Any ordinary person could hear the mistakes.

But not her ears—she possessed near perfect pitch, in both lifetimes. Music appeared as colors in her mind.

When all the disciples finished playing, Mo Shubai pressed his hand down gracefully, signaling them to stop.

Then he called out, “Jiang Linyue, come up.”

Jiang Linyue, sitting just ahead of Song Chi, had only missed two notes—a top performance in the class.

The master likely wanted him to demonstrate, but Song Chi had a feeling she would be next.

Mo Shubai’s gaze briefly glanced her way, and she quickly looked away. Come on, if this underdog outshone the prodigies, how could she live peacefully? No one could guarantee that the geniuses were magnanimous.

“Song Chi, come up here as well.”

As expected, she was summoned.

The classroom buzzed with surprise, then amusement. They probably thought she was there to be a foil—the worst player for contrast. After all, many knew her spiritual root composition.

Reluctantly, Song Chi took her qin and went to the front.

They placed their qins side by side.

“Linyue, you play first,” Mo Shubai instructed.

Jiang Linyue played “Spring Water Flow” once more, this time carefully correcting his earlier mistake, though he still faltered slightly at one note.

“Song Chi, your turn.”

Song Chi considered deliberately making three or five mistakes to save the genius’s dignity.

In the end, she only missed one note.

Mo Shubai pressed down on her strings with a finger, saying, “Play properly!” His tone remained calm and beautiful, like a celestial being, but his gaze carried a hint of severity.

Song Chi: “...” Fine, I’ll play properly.

This time, she didn’t miss a single note.

When she finished, Mo Shubai asked a piercing question: “Who do you think played better between these two?”

The disciples hesitated, glancing between the two. Most naturally favored the prodigy Jiang Linyue.

But since the master asked this way, no one dared to answer.

Mo Shubai then asked Jiang Linyue, “Linyue, what do you think of your own playing compared to Song Chi’s?”

Jiang Linyue, elegant as bamboo, smiled toward Song Chi. “Naturally, Sister Song’s is better.”

“In what way?”

“I missed one note, underutilized the wood spiritual energy.” His water spiritual root was only about 97% developed, so he had used too much water energy.

“Hmm, play it again.”

This time, Jiang Linyue made the same mistake at that note, this time underusing metal spiritual energy. He stopped, bowed to Song Chi, and said, “Sister Song, could you enlighten me by playing the piece again?”

With such politeness, Song Chi could not refuse.

But the so-called enlightenment was a trick—when they reached that note, Jiang Linyue suddenly said, “Excuse me,” and placed his palm over her hand while she played.

The classroom erupted in muffled laughter.

Song Chi stopped at that point. Jiang Linyue smiled innocently and said gently, “I see now, I misused the spiritual energy conversion one note early.” Then he bowed again, “Thank you for the reminder, Sister Song.”

Reminding me, my foot! Song Chi fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Mo Shubai quietly pursed his lips.

“Everyone, you may return to your seats.”

Song Chi and Jiang Linyue sat down, and Mo Shubai played the piece once more himself before having the disciples continue practicing.

He began walking around, pointing out mistakes in notes and spiritual energy conversions.

As a result, he captivated many hearts. Several girls in the neighboring class flushed deeply, nearly fainting.

Song Chi once again felt a pang of sympathy for the female disciples present.

She kept playing steadily. When Mo Shubai reached her, he stood nearby listening closely. Song Chi pretended to be shy and made a deliberate error to show respect to the genius, but Mo Shubai’s beautiful eyes fixed on her, so she dared not.

Qi Zhenmo chuckled quietly at the side, likely amused by her antics.

He himself played poorly because he lacked the wood spiritual root. Wood energy had to be converted from water energy, and as a weak Qi Refining stage cultivator, he simply couldn’t manage it, so his playing was terrible.

Mo Shubai glanced at him, smiled, and shook his head without offering guidance. He knew Qi Zhenmo was destined to join the Secret Fate Sect; his presence here was just a whim.

They practiced this piece for a full hour.

Someone finally gathered courage to ask Mo Shubai why the piece required such specific spiritual energy arrangements and what the principle behind it was.

Song Chi inwardly thought, “Good, I want to ask the theory and figure it out myself later.”

But Mo Shubai only smiled and said, “That depends on your own comprehension.”

Comprehension my foot! Song Chi got so angry she missed a note.

One thing she found incomprehensible about the cultivation world was that no matter the skill or method, teaching was always experience-based, with no one delving into principles. It was unscientific.

Later textbooks in the mortal world had started introducing anti-self-study systems—spending half the book on the meaning of learning something without clearly teaching the method.

Cultivation was even more backward, relying on “comprehension” to silence students.

Song Chi was just a nobody, so she let it go.

When the mid-申 hour bell rang, class was dismissed.

Mo Shubai stood at the classroom door, meeting the neighboring music cultivation teacher, a gentle and refined man with a somewhat effeminate aura.

Song Chi knew him as Shen Wenyan, the teacher of the neighboring Gengshen class. His spiritual root constitution was probably excellent, as he was the outer disciple of the Tonghua Venerable. To be the venerable’s outer disciple, one had to be an inner sect prodigy.

The two chatted at the door, and the classroom dared not let anyone leave.

Meanwhile, many disciples in other dormitories had already left.

Song Chi, needing to rush to Qingyun Pavilion to snatch tasks, quietly slipped out the back door, determined to earn as many spirit stones as possible.

Some students near the back door whispered, “How dare she? The master hasn’t left yet.”

“Maybe she thinks her qin skills are good and the master likes her, so she feels cocky.”

“No matter how good the qin is, it’s only early stage. When it comes to talent… it’s tough.”

They whispered quietly.

Song Chi paid no mind. They were right—her talent was fine early on, but after reaching Qi Refining stage six, it would be clear. As for being cocky, she denied it. She was just a worker trying to grab tasks.

Meanwhile, Shen Wenyan watched the little girl slip along the wall toward the Qing Academy gate, a faint smile on his lips. He quietly said, “So, Shubai brother has fallen for a mortal and came to teach the novices?”

Mo Shubai laughed and shook his head.

“Not at all. I’ve simply been a bit troubled with my cultivation lately and am taking the opportunity to help the sect.”

Shen Wenyan knew this was merely teasing.

“That girl is naturally intelligent and musically talented. I just listened to her play. It’s a pity about her spiritual root constitution.”

He sighed slightly. He had seen Song Chi’s spiritual root test at the sect’s gate meeting hall that day.

Mo Shubai sighed as well. In cultivation, comprehension ranked second; talent was truly paramount. That child’s tone was exceptionally lively, showing aptitude in music. But her constitution… it doomed her future in cultivation.

Of course, there was another reason for Mo Shubai’s attention to this disciple.

Jiang Linyue, his younger cousin, had arrived at Qingjian Sect looking lovestruck, saying he met someone in Baijiang City the previous night whom he admired deeply—the very same girl, Song Chi.

However, it seemed she did not reciprocate. Though Jiang Linyue tried to touch her hand during class, it was clearly rejected.

Mo Shubai couldn’t help but smile at the scene.