WBICDPH Chapter 88

Chapter 88: Rising on the Wind

Among the people from Yanyu Mountain present, everyone except Qi Xiaolang knew that Lin Jin had once been a disciple of Piaomiao Pavilion. Therefore, when they heard Jiang Zhenfeng greet him, none of them found it particularly strange.

However, Lin Jin’s response—“It’s you”—left them somewhat puzzled.

Liu Xun cast Jiang Zhenfeng a half-smiling glance before looking back at Lin Jin and pretending to be angry.

“What’s wrong, Xiao Mo? Even if Piaomiao Pavilion treated you poorly, we can’t forget where we came from. You’ve only been away a few years—how could you already forget your own senior sister?”

…Senior Sister?

Hearing that title, Lin Jin was startled again.

Now, in Piaomiao Pavilion—and even throughout the entire cultivation world—the only person who could be called “Senior Sister” was the astonishingly talented heroine from the original novel: the first female lead who stood shoulder to shoulder with Xiao Yunkong, the great lady of Piaomiao Pavilion—Jiang Xianrou.

But the woman in front of him was not named Xianrou. Her name was… Zhenfeng?

Although he was confused, Lin Jin had no time to think about it. He simply bowed properly to Jiang Zhenfeng.

“Greetings, Senior Sister.”

“No need.”

Jiang Zhenfeng’s tone was calm. Looking at Lin Jin, she spoke in a way that seemed to carry a hidden meaning.

“Since you are no longer a disciple of Piaomiao Pavilion, there is no need to call me ‘Senior Sister’ anymore.”

Her words seemed to refer to Lin Jin’s current status as a disciple of Yanyu Mountain, but Lin Jin had the nagging feeling that there was more behind them. He even wondered whether Jiang Zhenfeng had already noticed that he was not the same person who once occupied this body.

After all, Lin Jin had none of the original owner’s memories. He didn’t know whom the original Lin Jin had interacted with during his years at Piaomiao Pavilion, nor how well this Senior Sister might have known him.

While Lin Jin was lost in thought, a disciple from Piaomiao Pavilion approached from the side, saying that all spirit pets and contract beasts had to be taken to the back mountain to be kept together.

Liu Xun and Moyuzi had no objections to this rule. They casually handed over their Flame Cloud Sparrow and Taotie beast. Seeing this, Lin Jin hesitated for a moment before pulling Qiuqiu out of his arms.

He showed the puppy to the young disciple, gestured at it, and asked,

“Even… a puppy this small can’t stay with me?”

The disciple shook his head mercilessly.

“No. Sorry. Animals are not allowed within Piaomiao Pavilion’s grounds. It’s a rule. Please understand.”

Lin Jin rubbed the puppy’s head, feeling reluctant to part with it.

No one had told him about this ridiculous rule before coming here. He had just reunited with the puppy after five years apart and hadn’t even finished coaxing it back to friendliness. And now they had to separate again?

Moyuzi noticed his hesitation and patted Lin Jin on the shoulder.

“It’s fine. The back mountain of Piaomiao Pavilion is huge—your puppy will have plenty of space to run. If you’re still worried… Taotao, take care of your little brother, alright? Share whatever food or toys you have with him, got it?”

Lin Jin was still wondering who “Taotao” was until he realized Moyuzi was speaking to the two-person-tall Taotie beast standing beside him.

Lin Jin looked at the Taotie, then at the tiny puppy in his arms. He couldn’t help worrying that Taotao might accidentally crush Qiuqiu with a single finger while “taking care” of him.

After hesitating for a moment, Lin Jin rubbed the puppy’s head again, intending to give it a few words of instruction like Moyuzi had—but the puppy clearly had no patience for that.

It wriggled free from Lin Jin’s arms, jumped to the ground, and trotted straight toward the Taotie beast. It then clambered onto the creature’s foreleg.

Seeing this, Moyuzi was about to say something when he suddenly froze in shock.

His usually ill-tempered and arrogant Taotao didn’t react at all to the puppy’s disturbance. Instead, it stood there meekly, allowing the puppy to climb up its front leg, scramble onto its shoulder, and finally settle comfortably on top of its head.

Soon afterward, Taotao—now carrying Qiuqiu on its head—left with the small cloud beast, following the young disciple.

Perhaps it was just Lin Jin’s imagination, but as Taotao walked away, its legs seemed to tremble ever so slightly.

Moyuzi, however, failed to notice this tiny detail. Watching the spirit beasts disappear into the distance, he wiped away a tear of emotion.

“Our Taotao’s head is extremely precious—he doesn’t even let me touch it. And today he’s being so considerate! I told him to take care of his little brother, and he actually let the little guy sit on his head. It’s so touching…”

“….”

Lin Jin offered no comment.

After the spirit beasts were handed over, Jiang Zhenfeng summoned one of her junior sisters and asked her to lead the Yanyu Mountain group to their lodging arrangements and give them a tour of the pavilion.

The three elders from Yanyu Mountain walked at the front, while Lin Jin lagged, slowly looking around at everything.

After a while, someone sidled up next to him.

“Hey, Lin-Lin. That Senior Sister just now… is she…?”

Han Ao didn’t say the last word out loud, but from the shape of his mouth, Lin Jin knew he meant “the female protagonist.”

Lin Jin frowned slightly and nodded.

“They’re calling her ‘Senior Sister,’ so it should be her. But the strange thing is—why is her name Jiang Zhenfeng? Isn’t her name supposed to be… Jiang Xianrou?”

“What?!”

At that moment, Hua Nanzhi’s voice popped up from the other side.

“Come on, Lin Jin—were you really from Piaomiao Pavilion? Jiang Xianrou is a name Senior Sister hasn’t used in ages! She and our Senior Brother have been known as the two great Sword Lords of the cultivation world for years—‘Shubing Zhuoxue Xiao Yunkong’ and ‘Lanhai Chenqing Jiang Zhenfeng.’ Haven’t you ever heard of them?”

“How do you know all that?” Lin Jin asked in disbelief.

“And besides, it’s one thing for me to call her Senior Sister—but you’ve got nothing to do with Piaomiao Pavilion. Why are you calling her that?”

“What? I’m not allowed?” Hua Nanzhi rolled her eyes and planted one hand on her hip, pointing the other at him.

“In this vast cultivation world, anyone who admires Miss Jiang Zhenfeng respectfully calls her ‘Senior Sister.’”

“And you—you don’t even know her name. If anyone here doesn’t deserve to call her that, it’s you!”

“I…”

Lin Jin originally wanted to argue, but after thinking about it, Hua Nanzhi had a point.

He knew when to bend, so he immediately lowered his head obediently.

“Please enlighten me, Miss Hua.”

“That’s more like it.”

Hua Nanzhi glanced at the two boys beside her who were listening with great interest, then reluctantly explained.

“Xianrou was Senior Sister’s old name, but she abandoned it many years ago. Back then, she stood in the main hall of Piaomiao Pavilion and declared loudly, ‘Graceful and refined, gentle and tender—those are the meanings of “Xian” and “Rou.” I do not possess such supposedly admirable feminine virtues, nor am I worthy of the expectations my parents placed in that name.’”

“So she chose a new name for herself—‘Zhenfeng.’ Isn’t that incredibly cool?”

“….”

Zhenfeng—pillow the wind and soar ninety thousand miles.

It truly was a far more fitting name than “Xianrou.”

Lin Jin felt a strange emotion stir in his heart.

When he first read the novel, he had always wondered about it. The heroine was never the gentle, virtuous type. She was calm, independent, and powerful. Her words and actions often felt oddly mismatched with her soft, elegant name.

It was like standing before a decisive, peerless hero—only for him to introduce himself as “Softie.”

Now that Lin Jin had come into this world and stood before her in person, hearing the story of how she abandoned “Xianrou” and chose “Zhenfeng,” he was struck once again by how vividly alive these characters felt beyond the words of the page.

Lin Jin couldn’t help glancing back.

Jiang Zhenfeng was still standing at the entrance of Piaomiao Pavilion, greeting guests who had come for the Sword Trial Conference. Her robes fluttered gently in the wind, her posture straight and tall like a pine tree standing among the clouds.

“Hey, Lin-Lin.”

Just as Lin Jin was lost in thought, Han Ao threw an arm over his shoulder.

“I’m still curious. What did you mean earlier? Had you… met Senior Sister before?”

“Huh?” Hua Nanzhi looked confused.

“Wasn’t Lin Jin a former disciple of Piaomiao Pavilion? Of course, he’d know Senior Sister.”

“You don’t get it!” Han Ao waved dismissively at her, then turned to Lin Jin with bright curiosity.

Lin Jin naturally understood what Han Ao meant. He raised an eyebrow and nodded under Han Ao’s expectant gaze.

Before today, he had indeed encountered Jiang Zhenfeng once.

Though “encountered” might not be the most accurate word.

Lin Jin couldn’t explain the exact situation, so he instead asked Han Ao meaningfully,

“Have you ever wondered—when I first arrived here, knowing nothing and with such a fragile body—how I managed to escape the iron-tight escort of both Piaomiao Pavilion and Mingzhutian and make it all the way to Yanyu Mountain?”

“You mean…” Han Ao’s eyes widened slightly.

“It was the… Senior Sister…?”

Lin Jin nodded, his expression turning somewhat serious.

“But at the time, I didn’t know it was her.”

Nearly six years had passed, and many details from that time had faded from Lin Jin’s memory.

He only remembered that before he transmigrated, he had been working overtime on a project for nearly a month straight. That day, when he finally got home, he was utterly exhausted. All he wanted was to sleep in and enjoy the vacation he had long been denied.

But his sleep was restless.

In his dream, he felt his bed swaying. At first, he thought it was an earthquake. But when he groggily opened his eyes to run, he realized he was in a completely unfamiliar environment.

He was lying on a spacious wooden palanquin.

The ones carrying it were not humans, but several bizarre-looking monsters. Around the palanquin were many people—long hair, flowing robes, dressed exactly like characters in a xianxia drama.

Lin Jin was stunned.

Have I transmigrated?

That was his first thought.

After pinching himself and confirming this was not a dream, Lin Jin realized he needed to stay calm and avoid acting too strangely, lest the people around him notice something was wrong.

The most urgent matter was figuring out what era this was—and who he was.

Judging by the situation, he was even riding in a palanquin like some sort of noble. His clothes were also quite decent, which suggested he might have a pretty good life.

Thinking this, Lin Jin looked at a man walking beside the palanquin who seemed relatively approachable and asked,

“Excuse me… where exactly are we headed?”

The man glanced at him impatiently.

“Up ahead is Ghost-Cry Cliff. Where else do you think we are?”

“Oh, I see. Ghost-Cry—”

Wait. What cliff?

Lin Jin’s mind raced. He was certain that in the entire nine-and-a-half million square kilometers of his homeland, he had never heard of a place called “Ghost-Cry Cliff.”

But the name sounded strangely familiar.

Ghost-Cry Cliff… Mingzhutian… The Record of the Proud Immortal?

Lin Jin’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly searched himself for anything that might reveal his identity. Soon enough, he found a jade pendant.

Looking at it closely, the front read “Lin Jin,” while the back read “Piaomiao Pavilion.”

The man earlier had shown him little respect—even some contempt—which suggested he was not an important figure.

He came from Piaomiao Pavilion and was currently being escorted to Mingzhutian. Despite being unimportant, he was being transported with such a grand escort…

Putting all the clues together, Lin Jin arrived at only one conclusion.

He was almost certainly the furnace cauldron in the novel—the one Piaomiao Pavilion sent to Mingzhutian’s lord to be eaten alive.

Great. Just after transmigrating, he’d received his death notice.

But Lin Jin refused to accept fate. Without showing any emotion, he straightened up and began observing his surroundings, searching for a way to defy destiny.

There were many people around him. The ones in light-colored clothing were likely Piaomiao Pavilion disciples, while those in dark, strange outfits were probably demon or monster cultivators from Mingzhutian.

They had surrounded the drafty palanquin. Lin Jin knew no cultivation techniques; escaping with his mortal body seemed impossible.

Was he really going to die here?

If dying meant he could return home, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

But he absolutely did not want to die by being eaten alive.

The comfortable palanquin now felt like a scorching frying pan roasting Lin Jin alive. He couldn’t sit still or calm down; he was so anxious he wanted to bite his fingers.

At that moment, a voice suddenly appeared in his mind.

“One last time—do you want to escape?”

“…!”

Lin Jin nearly jumped in shock.

It was a cold female voice. While he wondered who she was, she seemed to hear his thoughts and sounded faintly surprised.

“You don’t know who I am?”

She gave a quiet, amused snort.

“Interesting.”

Lin Jin quickly realized this must be a kind of voice-transmission spell often seen in novels.

Calming himself, he firmly grasped the lifeline that had fallen from the sky.

“I want to escape. Please help me, heroine.”

“…So you truly are not him.”

The woman’s voice turned sharp.

“Very well. A life like this is wasted on someone who doesn’t appreciate it. Better to give it to someone who does.”

Before she even finished speaking, Lin Jin saw a flash of sword light. A figure shot out of the darkness like a phantom, killing several demon cultivators in the blink of an eye.

She showed no mercy to the demons—each strike sealed their throats.

But when facing Piaomiao Pavilion disciples, she did not kill them, merely knocking them unconscious with the hilt of her sword.

Soon, the tight encirclement that had troubled Lin Jin was effortlessly shattered. Bodies—living and dead, black-robed and white-robed—littered the ground.

After finishing off the last demon who tried to resist, the woman flicked the blood from her blade and walked toward Lin Jin.

She wore a veiled hat, the white gauze hanging all the way to her calves, hiding both her face and figure.

“I will not pursue the question of who you are or why you have taken over this body. But if you dare speak even a single word about what happened today, you know the consequences.”

Her voice carried an overwhelming pressure. She sheathed her sword and glanced back at him.

“Three days. For three days, I will stand here and hold back the demon cultivators for you. After that, whether you escape or where you go will depend entirely on your own wit and fate.”

Lin Jin nodded and hurriedly jumped down from the palanquin.

“Thank you, heroine! I will never forget this life-saving kindness!”

Then he picked a random direction and ran for his life.

But after running a few steps, he suddenly realized something and rushed back, giving her a clumsy bow.

“Um… which way is Yanyu Mountain?”

The woman seemed to chuckle softly.

She pointed him in a direction.

After thanking her again, Lin Jin ran off at full speed.

Jiang Zhenfeng lifted a hand and slightly raised the gauze veil, watching his retreating figure as a faint smile curved her lips.

“…At least he’s clever.”