Chapter 208: Slight Punishment

The next morning, Yu Xuan made his way toward Lingluo’s cottage, planning to drag her and Tianmei out for breakfast or at least to pester Lingluo until she got annoyed. He was still recovering from yesterday’s fasting.But halfway there, a familiar short figure blocked his path. Arms crossed, chin tilted up, she radiated authority despite her size.

"Go bring Lingluo and that girl," she ordered in a strict tone.

"Master is summoning you."

Yu Xuan raised an eyebrow at her tone, but didn’t argue. He knew when not to pick fights. With a resigned shrug, he went to fetch Lingluo and Tianmei.

Then the three of them arrived together at an ordinary hut. The moment they stepped close, the wooden door creaked open on its own.

An elderly, fragile-looking woman emerged, cane tapping lightly against the ground. Despite her frail appearance, her eyes held a certain intensity.

Her expression was far from welcoming, she looked mildly angry, the kind of anger that could turn into a storm at the smallest excuse. Just like old people.

Her gaze swept past Yu Xuan and Lingluo before settling on Ming Tianmei. The old woman’s eyes narrowed, sharp and assessing.

"You are the disciple of that old man," she said flatly.

Ming Tianmei, calm as a still lake, clasped her hands and bowed slightly.

"Junior greets the Peak Master of the esteemed Chaos Heaven Peak."

The old woman’s sharp gaze lingered on her a little longer. She could tell the girl was deliberately showing respect, trying to make a favorable impression. Strangely enough, she didn’t dislike it.

Still, her thoughts were different.

’That old man’s disciple? And she’s with my disciple too... and this boy. From the lower realm, no less. Too many coincidences. Hmph. Something doesn’t add up here.’

At her level there are no coincidences.

She left the thought behind for now and turned her glare onto Lingluo and Yu Xuan. Her voice dropped low, carrying an icy weight.

"I told you both your training would begin yesterday," the old woman said, her voice low and deliberate.

Her eyes sharpened, cold enough to freeze suns.

"So why didn’t you come?"

Lingluo’s response was immediate — too immediate. She struck a silly pose, trying to soften the atmosphere.

"Oops I forgot!" she said brightly.

Yu Xuan felt sweat bead at his temple. She really just said that?

Though he had come to this peak for relaxation more than duty, he hardly relaxed here.

"We were... welcoming her here," he said instead, tone neutral as he gestured toward Ming Tianmei.

The old woman gave a short, disdainful snort. Without warning, Yu Xuan and Lingluo felt the weight of the world press down on their shoulders. The gravity doubled in an instant.

"Master, why?!" Lingluo yelped, feeling wronged.

But the old woman remained silent, cane tapping once against the ground. The weight multiplied again — triple, quadruple... tenfold.

The air thickened, but their stance remained firm. Yu Xuan and Lingluo remained upright, refusing to fall. Ming Tianmei stood calmly to the side, arms folded, her eyes coolly watching them.

The old woman’s gaze didn’t waver. The pressure surged higher, a crushing force blanketing the ground until even the stones beneath them cracked.

At a hundred times gravity, both Yu Xuan and Lingluo collapsed to their knees, arms trembling violently as they struggled to support themselves.

Damn... Yu Xuan’s mind roared as the weight crushed down harder. His body screamed for release, yet deep inside, his cultivation technique stirred on its own.

[The Everchanging Ascension Technique] quietly activated. Streams of Qi within him shifted, twisting like flowing water, slowly rebalancing themselves against the unnatural pressure. His breathing stabilized slowly. The suffocating weight pressed down on him still, but his body, ever so slightly, began to adapt.

The old woman’s eyes narrowed.

Lingluo, she understood — her disciple had been born with an extraordinary physique and bloodline, blessed with monstrous endurance. But Yu Xuan? His body was changing before her very eyes, his Qi molding itself to the pressure like it was... alive.

’What a peculiar technique,’ she thought.

’It’s... extreme adaptation. Given time, he could become comfortable even under this ridiculous weight.’

She read the essence of his technique with ease.

Minutes dragged like hours. For Yu Xuan and Lingluo, it felt like an eternity before the pressure abruptly vanished.

Lingluo fell onto her backside, panting heavily, her cheeks flushed red. Yu Xuan steadied himself with a long exhale, his breaths unnervingly calm. The [Primordial Breath] method he had been practicing seemed to harmonize perfectly with the ordeal, leaving him less shaken than expected.

The old woman gave no praise, only a sharp glance toward Ming Tianmei.

"Girl. Stay at my disciple’s place for now. She will return by nightfall."

"Senior," Tianmei said, bowing with practiced poise, "may I join their training?"

The old woman’s cane thumped once. She snorted, face darkening.

"I will not take that old man’s disciple under me. Now get lost."

"Master, why don’t yo—" Lingluo began, trying to argue, but her words were sliced apart by her master’s glare.

"Shut up, idiot. I do as I want. And your punishment has not yet ended."

Lingluo flinched, her lips snapping shut.

Ming Tianmei sighed softly.

"Then I will take my leave... for now."

She gave Yu Xuan and Lingluo a meaningful glance, before vanishing like mist in the wind.

Yu Xuan frowned slightly, watching her go.

’They clearly have some history. Ming Tianmei’s master and Lingluo’s master are likely two super duper old people. And if they’re that old, of course they’d have tangled threads.’

As if plucking the thought directly from his mind, the old woman’s face darkened. She turned her piercing gaze onto him.

Yu Xuan stiffened.

’Shit. Did she just read my mind?’

Before he could react further, her cane struck the ground once more. The three of them — Yu Xuan, Lingluo, and her terrifying master, vanished from the spot.

They arrived in a place of blinding emptiness.

Yu Xuan blinked. All around them stretched an infinite white expanse, horizonless and depthless, as though they were suspended inside an endless scroll that had yet to be painted. There was no sky, no ground, only white.

The old woman tapped her cane once, the sound echoing far too loudly in the void. Her voice was calm, but her words were anything but calm.

"For the next five minutes, attack me with all your might. Hold nothing back. And believe me, if you do not, I will personally see to it that your path to immortality is severed."

Her sharp gaze fixed directly on Yu Xuan, as if daring him to slack even an inch.

Yu Xuan’s expression tightened. These old monsters... always switching their moods on a whim. How exhausting.

Lingluo, unusually grim, straightened her posture. She knew from experience, her master was not exaggerating. When she threatened something, she meant it.

"Now, come," the old woman said.

The moment her words fell, a red arc split the whiteness. It aimed straight for her throat, roaring with Yu Xuan’s intent to kill.

The strike landed, yet it didn’t so much as ruffle her robes.

Lingluo tensed, ready to charge, but froze when her master’s mental voice rang in her mind.

’You wait. Until he is finished.’

Yu Xuan did not hesitate. He stepped in with precise, practiced motions, his blade weaving the [Magic Swordsmanship of the Avalon Imperial Family].

He unleashed the First Form again and again, each strike carrying cutting intent sharp enough to split steel. Sword arcs painted the void crimson, yet they vanished uselessly against her unmoving form.

’Tch... no effect.’

His eyes narrowed. He tightened his grip on his sword. His vision shifted.

The world drained of color, fading to black and white. Only one line remained vivid — a single cut in red, the strike his will demanded.

Third Form — Formless Infinite Sword Slashes.

Dozens of invisible cuts merged into one transcendent line, a strike meant to deny existence itself. His sword blurred, carving reality. The line of red met the old woman’s neck.

Yet nothing.

The blow dispersed like mist. She didn’t move, didn’t even blink, her expression neutral as her eyes studied his sword.

Yu Xuan’s chest heaved slightly. He had poured real killing intent into that one.

The old woman finally nodded, her gaze lingering on the technique. Her thoughts, however, told a different story.

’Extraordinary.’

The principle of this sword was unlike anything she had seen. She had lived long enough to witness countless styles, countless masters, yet this swordsmanship carried mysteries. Google seaʀᴄh ????????????????????•????????????????•????????????

It was otherworldly, like something from beyond the heavens.

To weave such exquisite, domineering and complex sword principles... even at the pinnacle of the sword path, few could achieve it.

No. It seems to her that this sword path, itself is different.

Even so.

"This is not enough," she said flatly, as if brushing aside a parlor trick.

Her words echoed through the endless white space, cutting deeper than any blade.

Yu Xuan’s heart pounded. He could tell she wasn’t dismissing him out of scorn, she was measuring him. Testing how far he could go.

And she wasn’t finished.