Chapter Twenty-Six: Senior Sister, Please Be Gentle...

The next day.

In the early morning, warm sunlight gently spilled into the Sole Sovereign Sect, heralding the start of a brand-new day.

On the southern bank, disciples on each mountain peak resumed their daily cultivation. From time to time, glowing streaks flashed through the sky, and the sect gradually grew lively.

On the Third Mountain, Wang Ran yawned and stretched lazily as he got out of bed. Retrieving a damp handkerchief from his system pack, he wiped his face, feeling much more refreshed. While moving his limbs, he glanced at the neighboring bed. The graceful figure in white had apparently not rested at all—still sitting cross-legged in meditation.

Sensing that Wang Ran had awakened, she opened her eyes and spoke, “You have the time it takes for one stick of incense to wash up, dress, and tidy your bedding.”

“Ah?” Wang Ran was taken aback.

When he looked again, Yao Jianjia had already returned to meditation, her breath sinking to her dantian, silent as stone.

Scratching the back of his head, Wang Ran turned around, folded his bedding, and then slowly went out to wash up.

It was nearly one and a half sticks of incense later when Wang Ran returned to the courtyard, a blade of grass between his teeth, ambling along. Yao Jianjia stood coldly at the door, glancing at him with raised eyelids.

“Why weren’t you on time?”

“Uh, I didn’t notice…” Wang Ran replied awkwardly, offering an apologetic smile.

Yao Jianjia’s expression betrayed no emotion. She said coolly, “Run ten laps around the Third Mountain.”

At first, Wang Ran was a bit anxious, but upon hearing this, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. As a Foundation Establishment cultivator, running laps was a trivial task.

He grinned confidently. “No problem! Not just ten laps—I’ll run a hundred as an apology, Senior Sister.”

Yao Jianjia turned and went inside, casually tossing out a stream of light. “Remember to take this.”

The light fell into Wang Ran’s hand, turning into a dark, ancient piece of iron engraved with strange, obscure patterns.

“This is… a Spirit-Binding Meteor?” Wang Ran’s eyes widened in astonishment.

The Spirit-Binding Meteor was a fragment of a divine meteorite from beyond the heavens, extremely rare and unbelievably heavy. Its purpose was to bind the user’s spiritual power, compressing it to the utmost limit, with its effect depending on size.

The piece in Wang Ran’s hand was as large as his palm. With his first-level Foundation Establishment, wearing it would likely suppress him back to the state of a mortal.

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

The Third Mountain was no small place. Running a hundred laps as a mortal was nearly impossible.

Though his body was strengthened by cultivation, the Spirit-Binding Meteor’s suppression was equally effective—after all, he’d only just begun training.

After a moment’s hesitation, he gritted his teeth and bound the Spirit-Binding Meteor to his leg. Instantly, his whole body felt heavier, and his foot left a deep imprint in the ground.

He tried taking a few steps; each one felt as though he were being dragged, every movement laborious.

“Senior Sister, you’re ruthless…”

Taking a deep breath, Wang Ran summoned all his strength and trudged onward.

One hundred laps—virtually impossible. After just one, Wang Ran’s legs were already trembling.

Nearby, many passing disciples watched in surprise, pointing and whispering.

“What’s Senior Brother Wang doing?”

“No idea, but it looks exhausting.”

“Could he still be worn out from last night?”

“I heard there’s only one room in Senior Sister Yao’s residence on the Third Mountain. Do you think…”

“Hiss—not possible, right?”

“Hard to say. She’s the senior-most disciple, after all!”

“But look at Senior Brother Wang—he’s weak-limbed and trembling…”

“Heavens, if it’s true, Senior Brother Wang is a model for us all! To conquer the famously cold Senior Sister—few could pull that off.”

With nothing better to do, the disciples let their imaginations run wild, gossiping until their faces flushed, growing ever more convinced and increasingly respectful of Wang Ran.

“Ding! Congratulations, Host Wang Ran, for causing minor psychological shock among inner disciples. Awarded two Dao Points.”

As Wang Ran trudged along the Third Mountain, teeth clenched, the notification in his mind left him momentarily stunned. What was going on?

How had he inexplicably earned Dao Points?

He hadn’t done anything! This world’s Dao Point system was truly bizarre.

Shaking his head, Wang Ran ignored the increasingly animated disciples and began his second lap.

Two hours passed, and by midday, the sun blazed overhead. Only then did Wang Ran finally complete his ten-lap punishment.

Panting, he returned to the mountaintop courtyard and, from a distance, saw Yao Jianjia sitting under a tree, calmly brewing tea. She glanced at Wang Ran, then tossed him three golden fruits.

“Your lunch.”

Startled, Wang Ran looked down, curiosity in his voice. “What are these?”

“Spirit Fruits,” Yao Jianjia replied coolly, her lips barely moving.

But to Wang Ran, those two words struck like thunder.

Spirit Fruits—fruits that condensed the essence of heaven and earth, renowned for greatly boosting cultivation. They only grew on spirit trees, which blossomed every fifty years and bore fruit every fifty years—exceptionally rare.

Wang Ran was deeply moved. As he slipped the fruits into his pocket, he hesitated, “I can’t possibly accept, Senior Sister. These are far too precious.”

Without even looking up, Yao Jianjia replied, “Master grew them. Just eat.”

“Ah, well, if you insist. I’ll be sure to thank Master in person later,” Wang Ran said, relieved, taking a big bite and mumbling through the mouthful.

A flicker of helplessness flashed in Yao Jianjia’s eyes as she turned, saying, “Follow me.”

With that, she clasped her hands behind her back and walked toward the nearby bamboo grove. Wang Ran trailed behind, munching fruit and staring, entranced, at Yao Jianjia’s swaying silhouette.

As they walked, Yao Jianjia suddenly stopped short, and, caught off guard, Wang Ran bumped right into her.

Unmoved, Yao Jianjia stood firm as Wang Ran pressed flush against her back, his chin landing on her shoulder.

A gentle breeze stirred, lifting their hair.

It was fragrant, soft.

Wang Ran was lost for a second, but before he could savor the moment, the beauty had already stepped away.

“Go inside and take off your clothes.”

Yao Jianjia’s cool, clear voice came from ahead. Wang Ran blinked, a blush creeping onto his face as he stammered shyly, “Senior Sister, that’s rather direct…”

Yao Jianjia glanced at him, pointing toward the waterfall ahead. “I meant for you to go inside and cultivate.”

“Ah?” Wang Ran looked up where she pointed and saw, not far off, a waterfall cascading down a mountain gorge. It was magnificent—hundreds of feet tall and roaring with power.

Yao Jianjia said, “Wear the Spirit-Binding Meteor. Cultivate inside until moonrise.”

With that, she paid him no further heed, her figure flickering as she turned and flew away.

Wang Ran sighed in disappointment and obediently sat beneath the waterfall, legs crossed. The Spirit-Binding Meteor still weighed him down; at first, he couldn’t get comfortable, his back bowed under the burden.

Yet, under such conditions, his mind soon grew tranquil. In the silent valley, undisturbed by anyone, his spirit unified.

Only the sound of rushing water filled his ears. Gradually, Wang Ran entered a deep cultivation state, practicing the Longevity Art.

His spiritual power grew, little by little. Having just reached the first level of Foundation Establishment, his cultivation was still unstable.

But now, in this quiet, he realized that the morning’s punishing run had not been in vain—his foundation had grown far more solid, brimming with explosive power.

The Spirit Fruit he’d eaten earlier began to digest, radiating spiritual energy throughout his body. With his once-in-a-century genius aptitude, Wang Ran absorbed every drop, his cultivation speed soaring.

Only as night fell and the moon rose did he finish a day’s practice.

From then on, Wang Ran trained daily in this Spirit-Binding Meteor mode. As he adapted and grew stronger, the Meteor grew heavier and larger.

A month later, his training intensified further, incorporating new tools.

In the rear mountains, beneath the waterfall—

Wang Ran stood bare-chested, looking pitifully at Yao Jianjia, aggrieved. “Senior Sister, go easy on me… it’s my first time, and I’m really scared…”

Opposite him, Yao Jianjia stood atop a giant boulder, a red cord in her left hand and a candle in her right, looking down at him from on high.