Chapter Nine: The Little Crane Gained

After imparting the message to his beloved disciple Lingxiao, Master Void began arranging the next rounds of the new disciples' competition. Considering that the Jade Gate's annual Spirit Hunt Festival was approaching next month, he couldn't afford to delay the newcomers' contest any longer.

The Spirit Hunt Festival was a longstanding tradition of the Jade Gate. Every March, disciples would form small groups and descend the mountain to hunt monsters. The purpose was twofold: to let the disciples gauge their own strength and to foster camaraderie and unity among them.

Monsters were widespread across the continent, and the hunt had no fixed location. Each group could freely choose their target, then return to the sect with their trophies after a month. Once all disciples had returned, the sect leader would grant the best group a wish, based on the number and quality of monsters they had slain.

A promise from a cultivator of great power was worth its weight in gold, and difficult to obtain. Naturally, the wish had to abide by moral laws—a tacit understanding among all involved.

After much deliberation, the sect leader decided to resume the postponed newcomers' contest over the next two days. The two single-spirit-rooted youngsters had already finished their match, and he doubted any further mishaps would occur.

The attendant boy by Master Void's side received the order and hurried off to notify everyone of the revised schedule. Quick-witted and nimble, he soon sent out a flurry of message-carrying paper cranes.

Having completed his official duties, the little attendant then fetched a plate of pastries to deliver to the sect leader as a treat. He carried the tray steadily, and upon reaching the leader’s door, happened to meet Ming Shuang and Yun Ting arriving together.

Kong Mingzi’s appearance was unparalleled, and his snowy-white robes made him seem even more ethereal, like a celestial untainted by the mortal world. Lingxiao, though also in white, was gentler, his warmth a marked contrast to the icy aloofness of the other, more like an elegant scion of a noble house than a frosty immortal.

Even the attendant, accustomed to storms at the leader’s side, felt his heart quicken at the sight of these two handsome men—especially when Lingxiao smiled, revealing dimples that made the boy dizzy.

“Greetings, honored Immortals,” the attendant said, bowing with the tray. Nervousness made his hand tremble, causing the carefully stacked pastries to tilt.

Ming Shuang steadied the boy and said, “No need for formalities. Is the master available now?”

“The sect leader just finished arranging the newcomers' contest and is presently free,” the attendant replied, bowing his head, feeling as if a little flame sparked from Lingxiao’s touch and burned all the way up to his face. As the leader’s attendant, he’d met Lingxiao before, but the immortal seemed especially approachable since his injury.

Ming Shuang, oblivious to the attendant’s fluster, followed his cold-faced junior uncle into the room.

Master Void, seeing his beloved disciple and junior brother, realized that the rumors of romantic entanglements among the younger generation were finally about to be clarified. A surge of excitement rose within him, but he quickly suppressed his curiosity and asked them to sit.

Clearing his throat, the sect leader began, “Did you find what I asked you to investigate?”

Guided by his junior uncle’s clever instruction, Ming Shuang replied, “Master, your disciple and junior uncle visited the new disciples’ quarters and found one who had suffered a head injury.”

“Oh? So there really is such a person. I’ve been hearing lately that the new disciples were fighting over romantic disputes. From what Lingxiao says, it seems there’s something to it,” Master Void replied, frowning with a solemn air.

Ming Shuang and his junior uncle hadn’t witnessed the so-called romantic disputes—just two youngsters who’d taken a dislike to each other and dragged others into their fight. Ming Shuang realized the ‘love rival’ he’d misheard was likely what the master referred to as a ‘romantic dispute.’

Having roughly grasped the truth behind the secret message, Ming Shuang exchanged a glance with his junior uncle, and at his signal, explained, “That disciple wasn’t hurt because of any romantic entanglement, but merely had the misfortune to be caught up in a brawl between two new disciples whose elements clashed during the contest, resulting in his injury.”

Master Void was silent for a moment, finding the truth behind the rumors rather dull. He muttered to himself about the young ones always spreading baseless gossip, and frowned again.

Ming Shuang, unaware of his master’s subtle thoughts, saw his master’s brows knit with a poor complexion, and guessed he intended to punish the troublemakers severely.

The junior uncle, who had been silent, spoke up: “Newcomers are unfamiliar with the rules. The Spirit Hunt will be a good time to temper them.”

Feeling deceived, the sect leader thought this suggestion excellent, and decided to let the earlier misunderstanding go, turning the conversation to matters of the Spirit Hunt Festival.

By rank, Yun Ting could have skipped the hunt, but the leader felt it good for such a promising youth to venture out more. With Lingxiao recovering from a serious injury, it was prudent to have someone accompany him.

With a decisive wave, Master Void declared, “This year, I must trouble junior brother to look after Lingxiao during the hunt.”

Ming Shuang, who had just learned the Spirit Hunt was a mandatory event, hadn’t had time to worry before his master ordered his junior uncle to accompany him. He felt his master was truly considerate.

After some further idle talk, the leader excused himself for a rest and sent his junior brother and beloved disciple away, grabbing the long-neglected pastries from the table and stuffing them into his mouth.

“Stop staring. If you keep gawking at my disciple’s back, you’ll bore a hole in it,” Master Void remarked to the attendant, whose eyes were glued to the departing figures.

“A-Jiu just feels that every time he sees Immortal Lingxiao, it’s like basking in a spring breeze,” the attendant sighed, lowering his eyes in disappointment as the two disappeared from sight.

Master Void understood the admiration young attendants felt for talented disciples, but wondered why A-Jiu favored his disciple in particular. “In terms of looks and talent, Kong Mingzi is unmatched. Why don’t you little attendants chase after him?”

Most Jade Gate attendants were spirit cranes transformed into human form—gentle, loyal, and indispensable companions for cultivators. Not mere simple birds, these crane children had their own aesthetic preferences, generally favoring handsome, mild-mannered cultivators. They were, in truth, a tribe that judged by appearance.

A-Jiu considered the master’s words, admitting Kong Mingzi’s beauty was indeed worthy of pursuit by crane standards, yet few attendants volunteered for service at Kong Ming Peak. After much thought, he explained, “Immortal Kong Mingzi is a star and moon hanging high in the sky, while Immortal Lingxiao is a pear blossom tree in the gentle spring rain. The stars and moon are dazzling, but we love the beauty close at hand.”

“You speak beautifully, but comparing someone to a pear blossom isn’t a particularly auspicious metaphor,” the sect leader replied, sending another pastry into his mouth. “You’d do better to read more poetry and classics than indulge in tales of grateful cranes.”

“How does the master even know about the little crane storybooks?” A-Jiu grumbled, wondering why the dignified leader was so interested in such trivial gossip.

Master Void coughed, his expression as solemn as ever. “There’s nothing in Jade Gate I don’t know.” He then pondered whether Lingxiao had anyone to care for him, as A-Jiu eyed him with yearning to switch allegiance.

Master Void felt a pang as he swallowed his pastry, thinking how he’d raised this crane child from an egg, only for him to switch loyalties so easily—and to his own disciple, no less. How humiliating.

“If you truly admire Lingxiao, go to him…” the master said, though inwardly calculating the chances of A-Jiu actually leaving, given their years together. Wasn’t there an old saying about a hundred days’ bond between master and servant?

Little A-Jiu shed tears, and Master Void thought he was repenting and staying. Unexpectedly, A-Jiu knelt, uttered words of gratitude, and rushed off in a flash.

So swift, so efficient—Master Void couldn’t help but marvel that even in rebellion, his crane child was so crisp and decisive, a testament to his own hands-on upbringing.

At Kong Ming Peak, Ming Shuang and his junior uncle, just arriving near the courtyard, unexpectedly saw the leader’s attendant, recently departed, now with a bundle, chatting with the gatekeeper attendant at the junior uncle’s house.

“That one really looks like the master’s attendant,” Ming Shuang whispered in his uncle’s ear.

The junior uncle rolled his eyes, walked over, asked a few questions, then turned back to Ming Shuang. “Master sent A-Jiu to serve you. Our gatekeeper A-Qi is A-Jiu’s kin from the same nest.”

A-Jiu blushed as he greeted Ming Shuang, “A-Jiu pays respects to the Immortal. From now on, I will devote myself wholeheartedly to your service.”

Seeing his junior uncle unfazed, even transferring A-Qi to the inner courtyard for cleaning, Ming Shuang happily accepted the unexpected gift of a personal attendant.

Watching A-Qi lead A-Jiu away to settle his belongings, Ming Shuang said to his junior uncle, “I thought you wouldn’t agree to let A-Jiu serve as my attendant.”

“Why not? Giving you—a pig who can’t fly—a personal crane is perfect,” the junior uncle replied carelessly. “Anyway, their preferences are like wild fruit in a mountain stream—harmless.”

Whenever Ming Shuang thought he understood his junior uncle, he was struck speechless by a sudden blow. On reflection, the uncle’s apparent jealousy seemed reserved for Ming Shuang’s interactions with the female protagonist…

Could it be the junior uncle knew something? Otherwise, why such unprovoked hostility towards a young woman?

At that moment, the slow-witted Ming Shuang recalled his roommate, with whom he’d shared a bag of chips. If eating chips had caused him to transmigrate, then his roommate Cheng Yu might also have ended up in this world.

Given the junior uncle’s misfortunes in the original novel, if the person before him really was transmigrated, his antipathy toward the female lead would make sense.

Ming Shuang regarded his junior uncle with new scrutiny and tested, “A difficult fairy?”

“Where’s the fairy?” Yun Ting rolled his eyes. “Did you sneak out to flirt with some female cultivator? Or are you thinking of that head-busting Ling Qiqi?”

The junior uncle’s words clearly showed his dislike for Ling Qiqi, but he had no special reaction to “a difficult fairy,” leaving Ming Shuang slightly disappointed.

If the uncle wasn’t Cheng Yu, then his kindness to Ming Shuang was purely for Lingxiao, the original host.

Though Ming Shuang had long sensed the deep bond between his junior uncle and Lingxiao, the confirmation left him inexplicably uneasy, as if he were wearing Lingxiao’s skin and stealing what rightfully belonged to the original.