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A month passed quickly for Qing Xuanling, as if it were just a blur to her.
She immersed herself completely in training, focusing on strengthening her power. Yet she didn't miss all the events that unfolded within the clan and the city during this past month—thanks in part to Qing Wentian.
First, a grand funeral was held for Elder Meipon and all the clan members who perished that day—an event informally named the "Demonic Tournament Disaster."
Qing Xuanling attended the funeral, standing in the front row and offering incense, praying for the souls of the departed to to pass through the clan's ancestral hall to receive blessings for their reincarnation.
Additionally, there was the official subordination of the city's five Qi Refinement forces to the Qing clan—a ceremony announced with great fanfare, during which the Young Master accepted ceremonial cups from the leaders of the five forces and toasted to the prosperity of both the clan and its new vassals.
This greatly boosted the clan's prestige and power, now backed by formidable subordinates.
But if she had to pick the most important news she'd heard, it would be…
"People from some so-called Gu Clan suddenly arrived at the Mo clan, claiming they're reinforcements sent by the Lan Clan?" Qing Xuanling asked in surprise, munching on a rice cracker.
Qing Rannuan nodded. "Yes—and they seem quite authoritarian. You know the Mo clan has that caste system based on hair color, right? Well, the Gu Clan abolished it outright and are now training all Mo clan members regardless of hair color. Rumor has it the two remaining Mo elders nearly spat blood when it happened."
The two of them sat by the small lake Qing Xuanling had discovered, chatting over tea. Qing Xuanling sometimes invited Qing Rannuan when she wanted to relax. Though she was a cultivation maniac, she made sure to take one day off each week to rest—she'd already confirmed this actually improved her cultivation efficiency.
As for why she specifically invited Qing Rannuan for tea?
Well, because she liked her. Of all the people she knew, Qing Rannuan was perhaps the one she enjoyed talking to most—aside from Madam Yechan. Although Qing Rannuan's topics of conversation could be a bit unusual, she always presented them in an interesting way, not to mention she was remarkably well-informed.
Moreover, Qing Xuanling got along well with her. Unlike Qing Tanwei—who treated her like a child—or Qing Xunwei—who behaved strangely toward everyone—Qing Rannuan acted far more normally.
As for Qing Huayan, she was somewhat childish, but still pleasant company. It was just that Qing Xuanling preferred having more grounded conversations with Qing Rannuan—like now, sipping tea while gazing at the little lake.
But above all, Qing Rannuan possessed a quality Qing Xuanling deeply appreciated: she was incredibly sharp, always able to see straight to the core of any matter.
"The situation in the Ink Sword Sect is also a bit strange," Qing Rannuan continued, her tone icy. "Although Chu Feng—the sect's heir—wasn't involved in the Demonic Tournament Disaster and returned alive (the coward fled as soon as he sensed something odd, even though his own sect started it), rumors say he's lost weight and turned pale."
"It seems the demonic cultivators who attacked the tournament have finally arrived and taken control of things."
Qing Xuanling took a sip of tea, her gaze thoughtful. The conflict among the three major forces had been delayed—partly because the Qing clan couldn't, and shouldn't, win. All they could do was endure. So they were quite happy the war hadn't started yet.
More importantly, there hadn't been a proper opportunity to officially ignite hostilities.
Until today.
Qing Xuanling set her teacup down on the table before her and looked up at the blue sky. "Has the clan gone to claim the rewards I earned in the tournament?"
Though the tournament had been suspended mid-way due to the demonic cultivators' attack, one fact remained: Qing Xuanling had won the intermediate league. The relevant parties had already heavenly oath—if the prizes weren't delivered, their souls would suffer severe backlash.
But more crucially, the handover of these rewards was the perfect pretext to start the war.
Qing Rannuan ate her rice cracker with a disdainful expression. "Yes—they went this morning. So the Gu Clan will surely claim that since they're now in charge of the Mo family—who was supposed to provide the spiritual mine prize for the intermediate league—and since they weren't part of that particular bet, they have no obligation to hand over the mine."
Qing Xuanling laughed. "Right now, there's probably a spectacle unfolding—someone from the Mo clan handing over the mine's deed to our clan, only for the Gu Clan to demand it back. A pretty classic plot."
Though they joked, both their eyes betrayed underlying concern. Qing Rannuan, too, was being groomed to lead the clan someday, so she understood the same strategic realities as Qing Xuanling—and thus knew how precarious the clan's position was in this war.
They couldn't win—not unless they wanted the father to come after killing the son. So their only option was to endure until the storm passed.
A brief silence fell by the lakeshore as both women sank into their thoughts. Qing Rannuan broke the quiet after a couple of minutes.
"Has the Young Master told you yet that our team's been assigned to serve as a squad of elite soldiers once the war begins?"
Qing Xuanling nodded faintly, her eyes still on the sky, where a flying boat was returning at full speed. She stood and stored the tea table in her spatial ring. "He told me this morning, so I suppose we'll be together for quite a while. I'm in your care, Immortal Doctor."
She bid Qing Rannuan farewell after that. She had an important appointment before the real chaos began.
Qing Xuanling looked at the heavy steel door she'd reached after a half-hour walk and pushed it open with a smile. "Old Gao, I'm back!"
Elder Gao—just as old and one-armed as ever—turned around with a grumpy expression. He'd been in the middle of hammering metal when Qing Xuanling burst in.
"Insolent brat! Can't you leave this old man in peace?! You've already come three times this week!"
Qing Xuanling laughed. Lately, she'd been visiting Old Gao's forge more often to continue her refinery studies. She wanted to expand her knowledge as much as possible before the war began.
"Aren't you happy your only disciple came to visit?" She smiled and stepped closer to see what Elder Gao was working on. "Are you crafting a dagger from an Ice-Tail Tiger fang?"
Elder Gao grunted in annoyance. On the anvil before him lay two items: the fang and a piece of metal emanating deep Yin energy.
"Since you're here, tell me—what refining method should I use to forge a dagger from this fang and Deep Phantom Metal?"
Qing Xuanling tapped her chin, dozens of forging techniques flashing through her mind. Though she couldn't perform even a tenth of them, she'd always loved learning—so she'd memorized every method, even those beyond her skill.
She observed the furnace heating to maximum temperature and noticed the fang had a small hollow at its center, surrounded by tiny weapon patterns. "Isn't it the Organic Fusion Method?"
Elder Gao nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now explain—how does this Organic Fusion Method work?"
Qing Xuanling answered immediately. "It's a specialized technique designed to leverage the vitality and high adaptability of demonic beast bones. By slightly altering the weapon patterns, it facilitates fusion between the bone and compatible metals, rapidly creating a powerful artifact."
"However, it's one of the hardest methods to execute—you must carve weapon patterns by hand onto both the inner and outer surfaces of the bone. I never thought someone like you, old man, could manage such delicate work with just one hand…!"
Elder Gao's mouth twitched, but he said nothing and just glared at Qing Xuanling in frustration. "How wonderful it would be if your actual refining skill matched your theoretical knowledge."
Qing Xuanling smiled bitterly. Despite genuinely dedicating significant time to refining practice, she hadn't progressed much. While she could now craft swords and various weapons competently, that was only within the mortal realm.
In immortal refining, she was utterly useless. She still couldn't inscribe a single weapon pattern.
And there wasn't much she could do about it—it was simply that her innate talent for refining was low. Combined with her inferior metal root… well, that could only lead to someone being useless at the refinery.
"Come on, old man—are you thinking of abandoning your only disciple?!" Qing Xuanling teased with a mischievous grin. "Who else could possibly tolerate your mood swings besides me? Besides, persistence beats talent! I'll reach Foundation Establishment and live hundreds of years longer than you! With centuries more practice, I'm bound to surpass you!"
Elder Gao's face darkened. "Are you trying to kill me early?! Disloyal disciple—I swear I'll find a way to outlive you! Even if I have to kill you with my own hands!"
Qing Xuanling shook her head, smiling. Teasing Elder Gao was immensely fun—but she didn't push further. She didn't want a hammer thrown at her head.
Instead, she quickly helped him finish his work. Though she couldn't craft artifacts herself, she was quite skilled as an assistant.
With her help, the refining task finished quickly.
Elder Gao wiped sweat from his brow, satisfied. "At least you're good for something. Come—I've got what you ordered ready."
Qing Xuanling smiled and followed Elder Gao into a side room of the forge—essentially a storage chamber for finished works.
The storage room was quite full right now, packed with artifacts ranging from low to high grade. Elder Gao headed to the high-grade section and picked up a Buddhist-style bracelet with five colored bead.
He tossed it to Qing Xuanling. "Just how many more things do you plan to prepare? This is the third high-grade artifact you've asked me to make. Seriously, where did you get so many spirit stones? Did you rob a group of young heirs or something?"
Qing Xuanling smiled faintly but said nothing as she caught the bracelet. The tournament attack had forced her to reevaluate many things.
Before, she'd considered artifacts and talismans unnecessary distractions that would hinder her growth when facing danger—that only her own strength mattered.
But remembering how powerless she'd felt against truly overwhelming power, she realized how arrogantly foolish she'd been.
It didn't matter if no external objects were used in the face of death. All that pride would ultimately amount to nothing upon dying. Only those who lived, even if it was through external means, had the chance to become stronger.
So she set aside her arrogance about relying solely on her own strength and used her wealth—from the Jing family's spatial ring—to commission several artifacts from Elder Gao, one of the clan's finest refiners.
Elder Gao looked his disciple up and down and sighed. "Just take care of yourself. Someone has to look after this old man when I can't move anymore. The clan's about to get chaotic—try to stay under the radar and don't stand out. The tallest tree catches the strongest wind."
Qing Xuanling smiled faintly and pulled out a box of high-quality tea—costing nearly five hundred spirit stones—as a gift for the elder before leaving.
The next day, the clan officially declared a state of war.