The woman before him possessed a delicate oval face and exquisite features. Her slender figure seemed fragile beneath the lamplight, and as a gust of night wind stirred her pale blue silk robe, she appeared utterly captivating.

She kept her cherry-red lips tightly pressed, her gaze clear yet sharp, piercing Li Muzhan like the drawing of the Yaoguang Sword.

Li Muzhan smiled faintly. "Senior Sister Gong, your presence honors this humble abode!"

Madam Qin, impatient, interjected, "Little Three, is this your senior sister?"

Li Muzhan chuckled. "Indeed, Mother. This is Senior Sister Gong Qingyun. Senior Sister Gong is immensely formidable—the foremost master of the seven courtyards in the Mei Estate!"

Madam Qin sized up Gong Qingyun, her tone warm. "So capable, truly a wonderful girl! ... Come, come, don't just stand there, sit down and talk!"

Saying this, she enthusiastically stepped forward and took Gong Qingyun's small hand.

Li Zhuzi’s eyes lit up, and he boomed, "Yurong, don't stand there like a fool, fetch some tea for our guest quickly!"

A clear gaze swept across Gong Qingyun’s face, and Li Yurong pursed her lips into a smile, a strange little twist to it.

"Father, let me!" Zhao Yiyi quickly offered, turning gracefully before disappearing into the main room. She soon returned carrying a small wooden tray, presenting a cup of tea to Gong Qingyun. "Miss Gong, please, have a seat."

Madam Qin continued holding Gong Qingyun’s hand, examining her from head to toe, beaming. "So refined, and so skilled too. A true rarity! A genuine rarity!"

Li Muzhan watched with a subtle smile, saying nothing.

Gong Qingyun furrowed her delicate brows, shot him a glance, and managed a strained smile for Madam Qin.

"Mother, you're being overly enthusiastic; you'll scare her away!" Li Yurong commented with a smirk.

"Nonsense!" Madam Qin waved her hand, glaring at her daughter before immediately softening her expression into a broad smile as she turned back. "Miss Gong, how old are you? Are there others in your family?"

Gong Qingyun gave a slight cough and offered a strained smile. "Auntie, I wished to speak with Junior Brother Li for a moment..."

"Excellent, excellent! You two talk here in the courtyard, and we'll all go inside!" Madam Qin readily agreed, nodding before turning to Li Muzhan. "Little Three, do not neglect Miss Gong!"

"Mother, rest assured!" Li Muzhan nodded quickly.

Madam Qin tugged at Li Zhuzi, beckoning Li Yurong and Zhao Yiyi to follow. As she left, she couldn't resist turning back to offer Gong Qingyun another smile before leading the three back into the main house.

Li Muzhan watched them depart, then turned back, shaking his head and smiling faintly. "Senior Sister Gong, please forgive my mother; she has always been warm and hospitable, and you are so beautiful and moving—it's hard to blame her."

Gong Qingyun’s delicate oval face tightened, and she said coldly, "Junior Brother Zhanran, I came to see you to make one thing clear: I, Gong Qingyun, am not one to take a loss poorly!"

Li Muzhan paused, then smiled. "What precisely do you mean by that?"

"Your four senior brothers have been leaping about, pleading and threatening, entirely too busy. It’s laughable! ... As if I lost and absolutely needed the Eldest Miss to back me up!" Gong Qingyun stated coldly.

Li Muzhan touched his bald head, feeling a touch awkward.

He truly had nothing to say. Since yesterday, starting with his eldest brother and then the four other senior brothers, they had all been extremely tense, terrified of offending the Eldest Miss.

He smiled, suddenly forming a gesture of respect with his left hand. "I underestimated you, Senior Sister. I am ashamed!"

Gong Qingyun’s elegant brows knit slightly, her gaze fixed on his face, followed by a cold sneer. "The minor tournament is in a month. We shall settle matters then!"

She inwardly frowned, pondering: Zhanran was indeed difficult to deal with—steadfast in purpose and broad in spirit.

The Young Miss had once said that once martial prowess reached a certain height, advancing further was harder than climbing to heaven. The determining factor wasn't diligence or cleverness, but the heart, the breadth of spirit, and the sheer guts.

Li Muzhan smiled. "By all means. I couldn't ask for more. I've long wished to witness your Yaoguang Sword Style, Senior Sister. It was a pity I couldn't last time!"

"Hmph, you will witness it soon enough!" Gong Qingyun replied coldly, letting out a sharp huff. "I have said what I came to say. There’s no need to see me out!"

With that, she flicked her silk sleeve and turned away, her toes barely touching the ground as she floated two zhang away. She spun past the decorative wall, and her figure vanished.

Li Muzhan watched the direction she disappeared, shaking his head and smiling. This Senior Sister Gong was indeed proud and spirited, certainly no ordinary woman.

Madam Qin and the other three hurried out, immediately surrounding him.

Madam Qin grabbed the lapel of his robe. "Well now, Little Three! What did you do? You managed to have a falling out in just a few words and scared the poor girl away!"

Knowing that Madam Qin and the others had been eavesdropping in the main room, Li Muzhan and Gong Qingyun had kept their voices low so they couldn't hear, only seeing their expressions.

Gong Qingyun’s face had remained cold, punctuated by an icy smile—clearly displeased.

Li Muzhan laughed. "Mother, you've misunderstood. Senior Sister Gong and I are not what you imagine; we are enemies, not friends."

"Hmm—? What is going on?!" Madam Qin was startled, releasing her grip and pouting. "Such a beautiful girl, why wouldn't you get along better!"

Li Muzhan offered a wry smile. "Mother, I’d like to get along well with her, but she won’t allow it."

"Well, any beautiful girl has her temperaments," Madam Qin conceded, glancing toward Zhao Yiyi.

Zhao Yiyi snorted. "Mother, why are you looking at me?"

"Can’t even look? Look at that temper of yours!" Madam Qin remarked playfully.

"Mother—!" Zhao Yiyi chastised softly, quickly changing the subject. "Uncle, she may be beautiful, but she’s always so cold. She wouldn't be a good match, so forget about it."

Li Yurong shook her head and huffed impatiently. "Enough! Mother, Sister-in-law, Third Brother is a monk. Why are you worrying yourselves sick!"

That sentence acted like a needle; Madam Qin deflated like a punctured ball, instantly losing interest. She sighed, shaking her head. "Yes, Little Three is training to be a monk; he can't take a wife!"

Li Yurong chimed in, "Mother, don't fret. Perhaps in a few years, the Emperor will issue an edict abolishing the celibacy decrees, right?"

Madam Qin’s spirits lifted immediately. "That’s right, old man! We must stay alive well, and we will surely live to see that day!"

"Alright, alright," Li Zhuzi waved his hand, shouting loudly. "Eat! Are you trying to starve us to death!"

Li Yurong chuckled softly. "Yes, time to eat!"

In front of outsiders, she maintained a distant coldness, keeping people at arm's length, like an immortal untouched by mortal dust. But at home, she was a daughter, though perhaps less doted upon than Li Muzhan’s second sister.

The technique of 'Controlling the Crane and Supplementing the Marrow' truly proved miraculous. By that evening, the pain in his left hand had stopped, no longer causing distress.

He practiced the Gazing at Heaven and Illuminating the Divine Sutra from midnight until dawn. The lotus flower materialized, pure white and seemingly substantial, almost within reach, but the ball of white light hovering above the lotus showed no progress.

The next day, the sunlight remained bright.

His bed had been moved to the center of the small courtyard. Only he and his elder sister-in-law, Zhao Yiyi, remained at home. Li Zhuzi and Madam Qin had gone to help Li Jian's family, and his second sister, Li Yurong, had returned to Yingyue Nunnery at first light.

After Zhao Yiyi finished her chores, he asked her to sit before him, her back to him. He then placed his left palm against her heart, channeling a surge of internal energy to allow her to feel its presence and practice her breathing techniques.

Zhao Yiyi found the experience astonishing and practiced with great diligence.

He, however, did nothing else. He didn't cultivate any of the Six Great Sutras, merely sat still on the couch, eyes closed, breath regulated, appearing to be in deep meditation, while his mind was spinning rapidly within his skull.

After thinking intensely for half a day, he formed a hypothesis: this ball of white light required nourishment from the spirit and needed to be scorched by the heart's fire to strengthen and expand.

That night, at midnight, a drop of pure nectar descended from his Baihui acupoint, landing directly onto the lotus. The lotus rapidly absorbed it, becoming firmer, more tangible.

He instantly withdrew from the visualization.

With a thought, all the internal energy in his Dantian surged out like a vast flood, roaring through the meridians of his left hand, circulating swiftly according to the Shadowless Sword technique.

His left hand felt as if it were being torn apart, split into several pieces—the pain was unbearable.

He forced himself to endure the agony, letting his body relax completely, regulating his breath and calming his spirit. After a period of effort, he finally achieved the state of meditative stillness and immediately began visualization.

Upon entering this state, his senses sharpened, and the pain became even clearer, magnified several times over.

At this crucial moment, the steady concentration he had cultivated over a decade revealed its power. He forcibly suppressed his thoughts, disregarding the pain, focusing his entire spirit on the ball of white light.

Suddenly, his body felt lighter, then wonderfully warm, as if he had plunged into a hot spring, comfortable warmth enveloping him entirely. The pain vanished instantly.

He felt as if he had been granted a new body.

Immersed in this blissful sensation, time slipped away unnoticed. By the time the sky was bright and sunlight filtered softly through the window paper, illuminating the room gently, he was still deep in the state.

His spirit withdrew from the Gazing at Heaven and Illuminating the Divine Sutra. His body remained suffused with warmth, and his left hand only felt a slight, negligible burning heat.

He ceased his posture, eased himself onto the couch, stretched languidly, and allowed a faint smile to grace his lips.

The white light on the lotus had solidified slightly; a significant breakthrough had been made. His guess was correct!

This was cause for joy, yet this method of cultivation was too astounding—it seemed to be a legendary ascetic practice. To master it, one had to endure immense suffering.

His Zen skill was profound, and various memories grew clearer. He recalled his master once saying that Buddhism possessed eighty-four thousand paths to enlightenment.

Among them was a path of asceticism, focused on condensing the spirit, often involving self-mutilation to incite potential and solidify the mind. This was considered a heterodox path and generally advised against.

However, the Gazing at Heaven and Illuminating the Divine Sutra felt solemn and vast, certainly not heterodox. Could it be that his cultivation had gone astray?

He paused to consider. He decided to halt for now, to observe cautiously, lest he make a mistake and fall into the demonic path, which would lead to eternal damnation.

The surprise extinguished, he returned to his composure and tranquility.

He used his right hand to pull open the door, passed through the main house, and entered the small courtyard. Zhao Yiyi poked her head out from the kitchen. "Uncle, you're awake? Time to eat?"

Li Muzhan responded, "Good, time to eat."

After he washed up, the meal was already on the table, steaming hot and richly aromatic.

Zhao Yiyi wore a peach-red single garment, looking vibrant and lovely. Seeing Li Muzhan lift his right hand to pick up his chopsticks, she asked with a smile, "Uncle, aren't you supposed to be training your left hand?"

Li Muzhan smiled. "My left hand is injured again."

Zhao Yiyi paused, then quickly inquired, "It was fine just a moment ago, how did it get hurt?"

Li Muzhan chuckled. "It's nothing serious; I was too eager in my practice and caused a minor deviation."

Zhao Yiyi pursed her lips and smiled. "This right hand just recovered, and now the left hand is injured. If Yurong finds out, she’ll lecture you again."

Li Muzhan smiled, then shook his head.

Four days later, in the early morning, he appeared outside the Mei Estate.

As he approached, he immediately sensed something amiss. Zhong Dahe and the other four guards at the gate, who were usually stern and radiated imposing killing intent, instantly changed their expressions upon seeing him. They smiled warmly at him, their gazes peculiar.

Zhong Dahe and the others were the Iron Armored Guards of the Mei Estate, and they had an excellent relationship with Li Muzhan.

The Mei Estate guards were divided into four ranks: Iron, Bronze, Silver, and Gold. Ranks were determined by martial skill and merit, with each promotion doubling the salary, resulting in huge disparities.

The Iron Armored Guards manned the entrance in rotation, changing shifts every three days.

Li Muzhan returned their salute with palms joined, asking with a smile, "Big Brother Zhong, is everything alright?"

"Haha, nothing! Nothing at all! ... Zhanran, hurry inside!" Zhong Dahe laughed twice but offered no further explanation.

Li Muzhan glanced at him, then at the other three. He asked no more questions and entered the manor.