As the sect grew in numbers, the grand gathering became increasingly lively.
What began as Li Yingling orchestrating the entire event had now evolved into her overseeing just a single game, while most attendees were free to do as they pleased.
A truly enjoyable gathering wasn’t merely about boisterous revelry, but about everyone being able to do what they wanted—free from the need to conform, able to show their most relaxed selves.
Some idly chatted over drinks, while others, like Qinghe, eagerly joined in a game of Monopoly with bright, excited smiles.
Time quietly pushed everything forward. For instance, Zhou Ping, who had once been reserved, now raised his hand to join the game without hesitation.
Zhang Miaoyu, the so-called outer sect elder, had also grown accustomed to addressing Chu Xingchen as "Sect Leader," now doing so effortlessly whenever they met.
Chu Xingchen still remembered how awkward Zhang Miaoyu had been when she first called him Sect Leader—"stiff" would have been an understatement. It had seemed as though a knife were being held to her throat.
Later, Zhang Miaoyu explained—having spent years as a rogue cultivator, she never expected to join a sect. Among rogue cultivators in the Eastern Victory Divine Continent, "Sect Leader" wasn’t exactly a flattering term, often synonymous with exploiters like the infamous "Skinflint Zhou."
So, back then, calling him that had been a struggle.
But now, the once-conflicted Zhang Miaoyu was fully immersed in the festivities, her face alight with joy.
Ning Qianqian and Ning Kun were also present.
If anyone’s appearance had changed the most, it was Ning Qianqian. The once thin, sallow-faced girl had grown fair-skinned and slightly taller.
Her cultivation progress, still at the third level of Qi Refining, was slower compared to Chen Baiqing’s.
Yet she had blossomed into a graceful young woman—a reliable steward who, while not necessarily dazzling, never made mistakes in her duties.
Ning Qianqian often said how fortunate she was to have met Chu Xingchen.
But Chu Xingchen, too, occasionally reflected on how lucky the sect was to have someone like her.
Ning Kun had also shed his inhibitions, holding a wine cup in hand. Though he didn’t understand the rules of Monopoly that Qinghe was playing, the sound of their laughter was contagious, and he found himself smiling along.
Only, streaks of white now touched his temples.
The aftermath of having his vitality drained in the mines lingered. Chu Xingchen had sought out various elixirs to help, but replenishment could only do so much—it was ultimately a stopgap.
Still, it wasn’t hopeless. As long as his cultivation advanced, he could still go far.
Chu Xingchen attended the gathering but didn’t join Li Yingling’s Monopoly game.
Instead, he sat with Xie Lingyu, lightly clinking cups as they watched their disciples’ antics.
"Feels like just yesterday," Xie Lingyu suddenly remarked.
Chu Xingchen glanced at her. Moonlight and firelight flickered across her face.
Xie Lingyu’s demeanor matched her sharp features—her high nose bridge and faintly sword-like brows gave her a stern, unapproachable air at first glance.
And indeed, the Xie Lingyu of the past hadn’t been easy to approach.
Chu Xingchen chuckled. "Not for me. If it really felt like ‘just yesterday’ to you, you wouldn’t be clinking cups with me now."
Xie Lingyu tilted her head slightly, a faint curve playing at her lips.
"Who’s to say?"
Hearing her cryptic reply, Chu Xingchen couldn’t help but smile.
Xie Lingyu rarely played the role of a riddler—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she herself disliked riddlers—so her skill at crafting riddles couldn’t even compare to Chen Baiqing, let alone Cui Hao.
When Xie Lingyu spoke in riddles, the answers were usually right there in the words themselves—"If there’s more, I’ll clink glasses with you again."
Chu Xingchen looked at Xie Lingyu’s suddenly playful expression and, as if struck by a thought, asked:
"There’s something I suddenly want to ask you."
"Hm?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you’re actually quite cute?"
Xie Lingyu pondered for a moment, her gaze drifting toward the bright moon:
"If I think about it seriously, only my master ever said I looked cute when I was angry."
"But my master always spoke in half-truths, and the things he taught were the same. Besides, I vaguely remember I was crying at the time, tears streaming down my face—how could that be considered cute?"
After saying this, she turned her eyes back to Chu Xingchen. "You can hear this, but if you repeat it to anyone else, don’t blame me for being ruthless."
Chu Xingchen grinned and nodded. "I’m honored that Lady Lingyu trusts me. Naturally, I’ll keep my lips sealed."
Xie Lingyu looked at him, a few strands of her hair fluttering in the breeze, partially obscuring Chu Xingchen’s figure—and that ever-smiling face of his.
"So, what about you when you were younger?" she asked. "Whenever I asked before, you’d just say you were a successor. But now I don’t see you succeeding anything. What did you do as a child?"
This time, it was Chu Xingchen’s turn to gaze at the moon.
"I did simple but happy things. People urged me to study, hoping I’d rise above the rest, hoping I’d live a happy life—just ordinary, humble wishes."
"The most thrilling part of my life back then was probably tying a rope around my waist and jumping off a hill, just for the sake of safety."
"Compared to cultivating immortality, it was utterly uneventful… but when I think about it seriously, it was still quite happy."
Xie Lingyu tilted her head curiously.
"Tying a rope and jumping off a hill? Was it some kind of tradition?"
"No… just pure boredom. Jumping around for fun, chasing a bit of excitement in an otherwise peaceful, happy life."
"That does sound like a happy life," Xie Lingyu murmured with a slight nod before continuing,
"Though the path of immortality lacks some stability, it lets us see extraordinary sights, meet extraordinary people, and experience extraordinary things."
Chu Xingchen’s gaze shifted toward Li Yingling, who was acting as a referee, and his own disciples participating in the game.
He chuckled. "That’s true. To witness magnificent scenery, one must also face the storms head-on."
"And what about the successor thing?" Xie Lingyu asked, a rare flicker of curiosity in her expression.
Chu Xingchen rubbed his chin. "Now, I probably can’t become one anymore. But the spirit of a successor still lives in my heart."
Xie Lingyu pressed further. "What spirit?"
Chu Xingchen raised his cup with a grin. "Study hard, improve every day."
Hearing this utterly unrelated answer, Xie Lingyu remained perfectly calm—even smiling slightly—as she lifted her own cup and lightly clinked it against his.
This kind of unconventional thinking, this refusal to be bound by rigid rules, was part of Chu Xingchen’s unique charm.
At the very least, Xie Lingyu didn’t dislike it.
Chu Xingchen downed his wine in one go, then looked at Xie Lingyu, his tone suddenly serious:
"By the way, there’s something I need to tell you."
"Hmm?" Xie Lingyu turned her gaze back.
Chu Xingchen smiled and said,
"Actually, your master was right—you really are quite adorable."
Xie Lingyu froze for a moment at his words, her expression turning slightly uneasy. Her eyes seemed to tremble faintly before her tone suddenly grew a touch firmer.
She replied,
"You're adorable too."