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Chapter 12 - The Secret Art of the Autumn Cicada

Zhao Xunan's face paled abruptly. The secret buried deep in his heart had been seen through by the Old Celestial Master at a glance—how could he not feel a chill run down his spine?

After a long moment of internal turmoil, he clasped his hands and spoke with careful deliberation: "I'm but a fool, Master. I don't understand the meaning behind your words."

"Do not fret," the Old Celestial Master said, sensing Zhao Xunan's unease. He shook his head with a smile. "Reincarnation is a law of the Great Dao, spanning countless living beings and plants. Imperfections are inevitable. Those who evade the cycle of rebirth are rare, but not unheard of."

"Many through the ages have retained memories of past lives—no need to dwell on it. Worrying will only cloud your mind." He nodded toward Zhao Ping'er, who was gazing around the woods, oblivious to their conversation. "Your companion here hasn't heard us. Relax."

Zhao Xunan glanced over. Zhao Ping'er's curiosity was fixed on the autumn foliage, her mind clearly elsewhere. He exhaled silently. So she hadn't heard about my past life memories… Only that I'd been reborn.

"The Old Celestial Master truly sees through all things," Zhao Xunan said, bowing deeply. "You must be a celestial being descending to the mortal realm!"

The Old Master chuckled softly, unresponsive to the flattery. Instead, he tapped a crimson jade slip with his finger. The slip dissolved into a red mist, and the woods were soon veiled in a thin, dreamlike fog.

"Do you know why the jade slip turned red?" the Old Master asked.

Zhao Xunan shook his head, puzzled.

"The slip is tied to your fate, but its karmic roots lie elsewhere—too many conflicting threads. It's why the artifact was damaged." The Old Master's brow furrowed slightly. "Tell me, how did this happen?"

Zhao Xunan recounted everything: the gatekeeper Ran Sheng's warning, the alley encounter, and how the jade slip had come into his possession. The Old Master listened, first astonished, then chuckling bitterly. "Ah, so it was Brother Huo and that eccentric who dragged you into this. They seized an opportunity meant for another—no wonder the slip was harmed."

Zhao Xunan smiled faintly. There were many oddities since his rebirth, but this… it felt fated.

"Let us return to the matter at hand," the Old Master said, his tone softening. "You were born with innate clarity, yet the world clouds your mind. Since you've come with the jade slip, you have a connection. Shall I resolve your doubts?"

"…No doubts to resolve," Zhao Xunan replied. In his past life, when Dou Sheng had visited the Old Master, it had been a test of talent to gain access to the library. But here, it felt different.

"Think carefully—opportunities like this don't come twice," the Old Master pressed.

Zhao Xunan remained firm.

The Old Master sighed, then brightened. "It's mid-autumn, and Tongshan is lovely. As a scholar, might you compose a poem to capture its essence?"

Zhao Xunan smiled. This is the real test. He scanned the surroundings, his gaze settling on the Old Master's snow-white hair. A quatrain formed in his mind:

"Chilly winds strip the kapok robes,

I lean on a staff, wandering the wilds.

Autumn's breeze, ever meddlesome,

Stains maple leaves red, my hair white."

The Old Master poured tea, pushing the cups toward them with a shake of his head. "Another. Something with more… ambition."

Zhao Xunan grinned. Sipping his tea, he murmured:

"One mountain, two mountains—lofty peaks, distant smoke, cold waters.

Maple leaves redden; autumn's chill bites.

Chrysanthemums bloom, then fade—wild geese soar, but my love remains.

A curtain of moonlight, idle and serene."

The Old Master nodded, then shook his head again. "A child's heart, yet you speak of sorrow. Can't you write something stirring?"

"Not maple leaves—just autumn!"

Zhao Ping'er snorted, spraying tea across the table. Zhao Xunan laughed. Too unrefined. His eyes lit up.

"When autumn comes on the eighth day of the ninth month,

My flowers bloom—all others wither.

Fragrant banners pierce Chang'an,

The city clad in golden armor!"

The Old Master inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. "Such fierce ambition… Is it not too aggressive?"

Zhao Xunan bowed, smiling. "A young man's spirit, Master. What sorrow would I have for autumn? Some fire is fitting."

The Old Master laughed, his mood shifting instantly. This youth has promise.

He plucked a withered maple leaf, drew a talisman on it with his fingers, and handed it to Zhao Xunan. "Go. The library holds your fortune—but remember, do not be ruthless. Leave room for others, and great opportunities will follow."

Zhao Xunan took the leaf, bowing deeply. As he turned to leave, the Old Master's voice echoed through the mist: "Find a book for the girl too. Not too rare—something to lift her from the mortal realm. She has great fortune ahead."

Zhao Xunan turned to bow again, but the Old Master had vanished into the thinning fog.

Following the path back, they found the unassuming library. Handing the leaf to a deaf-mute attendant, Zhao Xunan and Zhao Ping'er stepped inside.

"Wow, it's small but packed!" Zhao Ping'er exclaimed.

The room was compact, yet shelves towered to the ceiling, holding tens of thousands of scrolls. Without an index, finding Record of Seekings would be no easy task.

Zhao Xunan scanned the shelves, his eyes darting. Half an hour passed—no sign of Record of Seekings. But he did find something else: Seven Techniques of the Primordial Talisman, the treasured manual of the Ghost Gate Sect from the mountain mysteries. If the Ghost Gate knew it was here, they'd be furious.

He flipped through it, enthralled, then forced himself to return it. Record of Seekings was more important—with Fuyao Manual already in hand, Seven Techniques would only complement it, not replace it.

Another hour passed. Using the Divination technique, Zhao Xunan finally spotted Record of Seekings. But as he looked around, his heart trembled. Among the shelves, he recognized dozens of legendary cultivation manuals from his past life. What kind of place is this tiny library?

He walked to a familiar shelf, pulling out a manual titled Cold Cicada Art—the sect manual of the Feathering Gate from the mountain mysteries. It was a high-ranking text, but its cultivation required extreme cold and abundant earth-cold qi.

Zhao Ping'er was born with a cold constitution, her body poisoned by congenital cold—even a millennium-old ginseng couldn't cure it. In his past life, no cultivation method had worked; either he couldn't enter the state, or progress was glacial. Cold Cicada Art was perfect. Even if she couldn't master it, easing her cold body would be a boon.

He found Zhao Ping'er curled in a corner, giggling over a book. Her face was flushed, beautiful under the glow. Curious, Zhao Xunan snatched it away—and froze. It was a lewd, illustrated romance novel.

He twisted her soft hand. "What is this?!"

"Ow—let go!" Zhao Ping'er yelped, her face scarlet. "I didn't know the library had such things!"

A young acolyte arrived to fetch a mythological illustration, overhearing. "Our Celestial Master Path doesn't ban marriage like the Complete Perfection Sect. Why not?" He scoffed. "You're young but clinging to old-fashioned ideas—such a fossil!"

As the acolyte bounded away, Zhao Xunan was speechless. I'm only twenty-eight—how's that a fossil?

"Admit when you're wrong—that's how you grow," Zhao Ping'er mumbled, rubbing her cheek.

Zhao Xunan glared, then sat at a wooden desk, taking out a blank scroll. "What are you doing?"

"Staring at you like an idiot," Zhao Ping'er said, grinding ink.

"Watch and learn," Zhao Xunan said, copying Record of Seekings stroke by stroke, leaving no detail unexamined. This text is no easy feat. In my past life, Dou Sheng got it as a mortal, which explains why he struggled. But I…

Three lifetimes of reincarnation had forged his soul like tempered steel—far stronger than any Golden Core cultivator. Progress came swiftly.

By dawn, Zhao Xunan had copied two pages and mastered the first realm of Record of Seekings. The range is ten feet… If I use this to find medicinal herbs, my spirit root will surge!

"Master, you're up early," Zhao Ping'er said, rubbing her eyes.

Zhao Xunan smiled. Time to start her training. If she wanted to avoid separation, she'd need to enter the cultivation path.

Leaving the library, he checked for the Old Master but found only a small paper. The acolyte read it aloud: "Fate's thread is frayed. No need to bid farewell. Journey north—there's beauty to see."

"Rude!" Zhao Xunan grumbled. "Young, but already a troublemaker!"

He led Zhao Ping'er north along the stone path. "Why north? Why not east or west?"

"Follow the Old Master's words—they hold purpose. Walk on; fortune may follow."

Beyond the maples, the woods thinned into twisted pines. Zhao Xunan climbed to pick pinecones—delicious, and their oil excellent for lamps.

As he reached for a cone, his Record of Seekings flared. He dropped the pinecone, kicking aside soil to reveal a jade-like plant. Yuping—a herb he'd foraged in the mountain mysteries.

He bowed to the distant temple, knowing their bond was severed.

Returning home by carriage, the driver eager, Zhao Xunan awoke at dusk. The next morning, he handed Cold Cicada Art to Zhao Ping'er. "No rest until you sense the qi. Break through, no matter what—we can't be separated by the mortal-immortal divide."

Zhao Ping'er nodded, her resolve hardening.

Alone, Zhao Xunan went to the kitchen. A sudden chill ran through him. Is it…?

"Master—I think I felt the qi…" Zhao Ping'er's voice came from behind.

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