At the base of the cliff.

The white-haired woman gripped the rattan, snapped it straight like a wave, and lashed it toward the youth standing before the cliff.

A silk band was tied over the youth’s eyes, his hands bound behind his back. The slight twitch of his ears caught the sharp sound cutting through the air, and he quickly stepped to the left to dodge.

“Smack—”

The vine whip struck the rock face, leaving a gouge over a foot long, as if cut by a blade or chiseled by an axe.

No sooner had it been pulled back than it howled off again, the gale it carried pursuing the youth’s figure.

“Whoosh—”

This time he bent at the waist and again avoided the midair strike.

“Xiaobai, be careful!”

No sooner had the woman spoken than the vine in her hand suddenly sped up, snapping over at an extremely tricky angle, almost impossible to evade.

Mu Bai took a few running steps, planted his feet on the rock face, used the momentum to spin and leap into the air, narrowly passing over the vine.

“Not bad.”

The woman flicked her wrist and tossed him a length of bamboo.

Mu Bai caught the bamboo, gripped it in a sword-holding pose, held it up to block and deflect the vine, then pushed off the rock wall with a foot and launched himself straight toward the white-haired woman’s position.

“Swish—”

Several dozen vines suddenly burst up from the thick pile of leaves around the woman, shooting into the air like venomous snakes.

Mu Bai used the bamboo segment as a brace, leveraged his strength to flip in midair, and landed on the ground.

At the same time, a distant “rumble” came from the horizon atop the cliff—the long-brewing dark clouds finally turned to rain, pouring down.

The sound of rain mixed with flashes of lightning and thunder made it even harder for him to judge the direction the vines were striking from, forcing him to defend with all his strength.

The deadlock lasted an unknown length of time. The bamboo pole in Mu Bai’s hand, unable to bear the strain any longer, finally cracked with a “crack”—a fracture running along it. A few more blows and it would surely be ruined.

The white-haired woman shook her head, guessing that today’s training could come to an end.

She slammed a palm into the ground; the vines weaving beneath the fallen leaves formed a web that spread across the sky, sweeping toward Mu Bai.

Mu Bai pressed the bamboo staff against his back, kicked off the rock face, as if preparing to use lightness skill to evade the strike.

“This brat, after getting beaten hundreds of times, still won’t learn.” She snorted coldly, turned her back and walked toward the cave.

At that moment, Mu Bai curved the corner of his mouth, slipped the bamboo staff he carried on his back into a gap in the vine net, and deftly flicked it.

The vine net was pulled aside and twisted up where the gaps were most concentrated.

Mu Bai pulled out a bamboo joint and twirled it in his hand; at the moment he aimed the split edge at the vine net and struck, his internal energy poured into it.

“Master, watch out!”

The white-haired woman heard his cheerful warning and dodged to the right.

The next instant, the half-broken bamboo joint hurtled through the air and embedded itself in the spot she had just occupied, the sharp split flashing a thin glint of cold.

“……”

She was silent for a moment; when she turned back, Mu Bai had already crawled out from the tangle of vines.

The rain poured down in sheets, yet his clothes were dry, only a few places showing cuts from the vines.

“Well, Master?” the young man asked with a smiling tone as he caught up.

The woman snorted coldly, “Still a long way off.”

“Oh.” Mu Bai scratched his head and bent down to pull the bamboo segment out of the ground.

“But you can leave now.” the woman said.

“Huh?”

“I mean,” she cleared her throat, “you’ve graduated.”

“I have nothing more to teach you. Everything else is in this sword manual — just practice from it. There’s no need for you to stay here wasting your time.”

Mu Bai’s eyes curved; catching his master glancing sideways at him, he immediately composed himself, cleared his throat twice, and said in a serious tone, “How could Master say that? Wasting time— I actually like staying here.”

“Don’t put on that act for me—if you’re leaving, just go quickly. Don’t block my view.” She flicked her sleeve and turned into the cave, paying no more attention to Mu Bai.

A moment later, a bundle was tossed out from the cave.

Mu Bai picked up the bundle, closed his eyes, and knelt to the ground.

All feasts must end; he couldn’t stay here forever.

Mu Bai bowed down and, facing the figure in the cave, kowtowed three times: “Master, I’m leaving now. Take good care of yourself.”

“Get out.”

–

The cliff was precipitous, and the path away was choked with weeds and thorns. Mu Bai walked alone for who knew how long, and the surroundings remained desolately uninhabited.

He was somewhat hungry. Clinging to a sliver of hope, he opened the bundle his master had given him.

There was not a single piece of rations inside.

“Sigh, you can’t count on her.”

Mu Bai sighed, took out the sword manual and glanced at it, then casually flipped through it—and surprisingly came across the skirt he had originally thrown away.

During the days at the foot of the cliff, he hadn’t heard the dog system’s voice again; now that he had learned and grown, he could completely change his appearance and go out to roam the jianghu.

So upon seeing that skirt, Mu Bai felt it hauntingly clinging to him, and decisively tossed it back into the wilds.

He clapped his hands, imagining a new life without the constraints of systems and plotlines; even with an empty stomach, his spirits lifted, and whistling, he walked off with a spring in his step.

It wasn’t until the rain stopped that Mu Bai finally reached the village at the foot of the mountain.

There was no dry food in the bundle, but there was quite a bit of silver. He was planning to find a family to stop at and eat when he saw two people approaching from the end of the path—one in white, the other in blue—disciples of Qinglian Valley.

These two senior apprentices were known to Mu Bai; fearing recognition, he quickly slipped behind the low house wall to hide.

“Sigh, it’s already been two months, Little White junior sister still hasn’t sent any word — it’s likely the worst.”

“What a pity, what a pity.”

“I heard that on the day Little Junior Sister Xiaobai went missing, someone saw her being dragged up to the cliff… Ah! Such a tragedy. That negligent guard’s junior sister cries herself to sleep every day, she can’t eat or drink, and she’s nearly wasted away to nothing.”

“Exactly. I heard yesterday that Senior Sister was going to jump off the cliff to look for Junior Sister Xiaobai, but the other senior sisters stopped her. That cliff is bottomless—who would survive the fall? Senior Sister is truly mad…”

“You can stop it for a moment, but not forever. If junior sister can’t be found again, with senior sister’s temper, it’s only a matter of time before something happens…”

“I also heard that junior sister Xiaobai is the old Valley Master’s daughter, and that jade pendant she carries is the old Valley Master’s relic.”

“No wonder Senior Sister was so anxious.”

The two disciples walked away, chattering, and Mu Bai only then stepped out from behind the wall.

He opened his bundle without a word, took out the lotus-shaped jade pendant and stared at it for a while, shoulders sagging. “Where did I throw my skirt?”

–

Beside the cliff of Qinglian Valley.

Several female disciples sat on the ground, tying knots in hemp ropes as thick as two fingers and twisting them together.

The other end of the hemp rope was tied around Qin Jiugo’s waist; she wound it several times carefully, tightened it, then walked to the cliff edge, braced against the rock, and jumped downward.

It had fallen onto a branch jutting out from a crevice in the cliff.

The branch trembled, a strip of bluish cloth fluttering from its tip in the wind.

Qin Jiugе tapped her toe lightly and stepped forward to retrieve that scrap of cloth.

Sure enough, it was a fragment of Little White Junior Sister’s scarf.

She had earlier heard from Su Mo’s men that junior sister Xiaobai had been dragged by ruffians to the edge of a cliff, and she still refused to believe it.

Qin Jiuge closed her eyes and tucked that fragment into her chest.

The old Sect Lord had pressed countless warnings on his deathbed; she hadn’t expected that after bringing the young master back for barely over ten days, something like this would happen in the valley. She could not absolve herself of blame.

“Senior sister, is the rope long enough?” a voice came from the cliff top.

Qin Jiugo glanced downward. “Not enough—keep tying.”

Alive she must be seen, dead her body must be seen—she couldn’t let Junior Sister Xiaobai lie at the bottom of the cliff without clarity.

Qin Jiugē used a branch for leverage, spun once, and her feet flashed against the cliff face.

She used her lightness skill to walk on the moss-covered cliff, but before long she lost her balance and fell straight toward the cliff bottom.

The disciple standing at the cliff edge drew in a cold breath: “Senior sister—”

Several disciples who had tied the hemp rope were quick-eyed and quick-handed; they grabbed the rope’s end and pulled hard.

Qin Jiugo was barely suspended in midair, embarrassed, and said, “I’m fine.”

“Senior sister, you’d better come up—it’s too dangerous down here.”

Qin Jiuge fell silent for a moment, then called upward again, “Keep going, the rope isn’t long enough yet. Even if Junior Sister Xiaobai is dead, I must bring her remains back.”

The disciples guarding the cliff top looked at one another in dismay.

One of them turned pale: “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t failed to lock the door before I left, that villain wouldn’t have escaped, and Junior Sister Xiaobai wouldn’t have gotten into trouble…”

“Don’t say any more.” Another disciple patted her shoulder. “Those two attendants of Prince Wuti kept insisting they saw it with their own eyes but didn’t lift a finger to help. Who knows whether they’re telling the truth and what their motives are? You never can tell—maybe Junior Sister Xiaobai was led into this by them.”

“Shh, you can’t say that.” an older senior sister warned.

At that moment, a strange rustling came from within the trees.

“Who’s there!” The disciples immediately went on alert, drawing their swords from behind and aiming them at the swaying bushes.

Mu Bai crawled out from behind the bushes, wearing an extremely forced, more hideous-than-crying smile on his face: “I’m back.”

“…Junior Sister Xiaobai?!”

“Senior Sister! Junior Sister Xiaobai is back—”

“Junior Sister Xiaobai, where have you been these past few days? We were so worried.”

Mu Bai truthfully told them about falling off the cliff, only omitting the part about practicing at the bottom of the cliff.

The senior sisters sighed and patted his shoulder: “It’s good that you’re back, it’s good that you’re back. Little Junior Sister Bai, you’ve suffered.”

The disciple in charge of the watch suddenly wiped at his eyes, and Mu Bai was stunned: “Senior Sister, why are you crying?”

She dabbed her tears and said, “I’m crying tears of joy.”

Mu Bai: “……”

That night, Qinglian Valley was lit up through the night, filled with laughter and cheer—more festive than any holiday.

Mu Bai was jostled and escorted by his senior sisters, and the last bit of reluctance he had swallowed down.

Fine, if I have to wear women’s clothes, then I’ll wear women’s clothes.