Say It Again Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

At the sect's entrance.

Since Bai Xuanling had already returned to the Central Continent with his disciples and a certain gluttonous flood dragon, only Chu Xingchen and the others remained to see off Li Yingling, who was about to depart.

This time, Li Yingling was leaving even earlier than Li Xingtian.

On the two previous occasions, it had been the eldest senior sister sending off the second senior brother.

Today, it was the second senior brother’s turn to send off the eldest senior sister.

Chu Xingchen asked with concern, "Did you pack everything?"

Li Yingling nodded lightly. "Yes, everything’s ready."

"Senior Sister, be careful in all matters," Li Xingtian reminded her.

Li Yingling turned to look at Li Xingtian, who couldn’t even use talismans correctly. Though she wanted to tease him, his words came from a place of kindness, and dismissing him outright would have been too harsh.

So, she reached out and patted his shoulder. "You too."

Li Xingtian: "..."

For some reason, his eldest senior sister and their master shared certain similarities at times.

Chen Baiqing tugged at Li Yingling’s sleeve. "Senior Sister, don’t forget to think of Baiqing."

Li Yingling smiled and gently stroked Chen Baiqing’s head.

"Of course. I’ll bring back candied fruits from other places for you. Be good and wait for me to return."

Then, her gaze shifted to Cui Hao and Lin Luoyu.

"I won’t say too much, or else a few words from each of you would delay my departure until tomorrow. You two must also listen to Master and cultivate diligently. If I return and find you haven’t made enough progress, don’t blame me for being harsh."

Cui Hao clasped his fists and nodded. "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep an eye on Fourth Senior Sister’s training."

The group turned their eyes toward Cui Hao’s shameless remark.

Lin Luoyu, in particular, wore a resigned expression and shot him a look that promised retribution.

Li Yingling also patted Cui Hao’s shoulder.

"If you don’t meet the standard, don’t blame your eldest senior sister for being ruthless either."

The group chuckled.

Thanks to Cui Hao’s deliberate teasing, the atmosphere lightened somewhat.

With a final wave, Li Yingling transformed into a streak of light and soared away.

And so, Li Yingling embarked on her own immortal path.

It had to be said—without Li Yingling, the sect’s usual source of excitement, the place did feel noticeably quieter.

Occasionally, Cui Hao would stir up some mischief, only to be promptly disciplined by Chen Baiqing.

Three days after the eldest senior sister’s departure.

By the deep pool.

Chen Baiqing was still skillfully brewing tea. It was the brightest part of the day, and though the winter sun was mild, Chen Baiqing wasn’t fond of strong sunlight.

At noon, she would usually be cultivating, but today, she had been summoned by her master to prepare tea.

However, the tea wasn’t just for Chu Xingchen—Li Junzi was also present.

"My apologies. I was quite busy when you first arrived and didn’t have the chance to properly host you." Chu Xingchen raised his teacup. "Let me make up for it with tea in place of wine."

Li Junzi shook her head slightly, gesturing that it was unnecessary. "My arrival was sudden to begin with. There’s no need for apologies."

Chu Xingchen drained his cup in one go.

This private meeting with Li Junzi wasn’t just for casual conversation—it also concerned the matter Cui Hao had reported regarding the Confucian scholar’s state of mind.

Though Chu Xingchen wasn’t versed in Confucianism, his mind held fragments of Confucian classics. Even if he couldn’t recite them in full, he remembered a few core tenets.

Dropping a few of those lines should suffice.

Naturally, he had already tested them on Cui Hao beforehand.

If Cui Hao’s awestruck expression wasn’t just an act, then this approach should work.

With a smile, Chu Xingchen asked, "I’ve heard you’re a Confucian scholar?"

"Yes," Li Junzi nodded. "Though I’ve merely read a few more books than the average person."

"That’s far too modest," Chu Xingchen replied warmly. "Confucianism isn’t just about reading. Governing the family, the state, and bringing peace to the world—aren’t these also the goals of a Confucian scholar?"

Li Junzi paused, silently pondering his words before nodding. "Before coming here, Cui Hao told me you weren’t a Confucian cultivator—only because you didn’t practice Confucianism."

"In my youth, I was once called a genius. I, too, had my moments of pride."

A hint of nostalgia surfaced in Li Junzi’s expression.

"Most of my fellow students were men. Some were clever, and many studied even harder than I did."

"But in the entire academy, I alone progressed at an astonishing pace—from the Brush-Holding Realm all the way to the Confucian Scholar Realm, almost never encountering bottlenecks."

"Even the rank of Great Confucian seemed within reach. My teacher held high hopes for me—the courtesy name ‘Junzi’ was given by him."

"He said I might become one of the rare female Great Confucians."

"My teacher once admitted he envied my talent, though he rarely traveled. He often claimed there were no geniuses among Confucian cultivators—perhaps I was just luckier."

"I’ve met many—Lin Luoyu, Cui Hao, and now, you."

Chu Xingchen studied Li Junzi’s face. There was no confusion, no envy—just the calm recounting of an ordinary matter.

She didn’t seem as troubled as Cui Hao had suggested...

As if understanding his thoughts, Li Junzi extended a hand and wrote two characters in the air—Qing Feng (Gentle Breeze).

A soothing wind swept past.

Chen Baiqing, pleasantly surprised by the breeze, glanced curiously at Li Junzi.

"For a time, I truly couldn’t wield my brush," Li Junzi admitted with a faint smile. "But after attending your eldest disciple’s birthday celebration, I understood."

"What gives warmth is the person, not the words. I’ve realized what books I should read—and what I should write."

"I’m also relieved that Lin Luoyu met you. If it’s you, I can rest assured."

Chu Xingchen raised his teacup again. "Then all I can do is wish you success in writing the books you desire."

Li Junzi inclined her head. "And I wish Sect Leader Chu a smooth immortal path."

They raised their cups and drank.

Then, Li Junzi spoke earnestly. "However, there’s one matter I must trouble you with."

"Go ahead."

"A mortal’s life is fleeting. Even as a Sage-Approaching Scholar, one can only extend it by sixty years at most. If possible, I’d like to stay here a while longer. Who knows when we’ll meet again—or how much will have changed by then."

"You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish."

Li Junzi stood and bowed in gratitude.

Chu Xingchen returned the gesture before taking his leave.

Those famous Confucian quotes and fragments of classics could have propelled Li Junzi swiftly into the Great Confucian Realm.

But after their conversation, Chu Xingchen felt she was capable of going even further.

Following another’s path might lead to becoming a Great Confucian, but reaching the Sage-Approaching Realm required forging one’s own ideas, one’s own principles, one’s own way.

Throughout history, only pioneers are remembered.

To Chu Xingchen, forcing those borrowed words onto Li Junzi would have been a disservice.

She was no less capable than the others.

Li Junzi was Li Junzi—not some reincarnation of the Confucian masters from Earth.

Her wisdom was no lesser than theirs.

For some reason, Chu Xingchen always felt that the next time they met, Li Junzi might already have reached the rank of a Demi-Saint.

On the fifth day after the Eldest Senior Sister's departure,

Li Xingtian also set out on his journey to the Central Continent.

With that, the sect grew even quieter.

More than two months after the Eldest Senior Sister had left,

Li Junzi bid farewell and departed.

She said—she was now going to read the book within her heart.