Chapter 109: Her Name is Du Xiangwan—a Panda in Every Sense of the Word

“In truth, only disciples of Linjun Pavilion are granted the right to meet directly with the Elders.”

“That’s why, despite being here for a month, you’ve only been training under me rather than formally instructed by the Sect Master.”

As they walked, the White-Robed Immortal strolled ahead, hands behind her back, her tone calm and measured.

He Yimo followed in silence. Linjun Pavilion wasn’t anything special, essentially the cultivation world’s version of a student council—only with far greater status here in the immortal realm.

At one point, Mo Yuyan stopped before a lavishly carved teahouse on the east side of Wuji Sect. She turned, backlit by the setting sun, and smiled faintly at He Yimo.

“So, Senior Sister is taking you to officially join Linjun Pavilion.”

The scene and line echoed the original novel’s cutscene—almost identically. The only difference: Mo Yuyan’s face held a gentle, approving smile, a stark contrast to her cold, aloof original self.

After that, she led him to the third floor of Linjun Pavilion.

Mo Yuyan pushed open the bustling door. The clamor inside instantly died as every cultivator present turned to stare at the two newcomers.

“Senior Sister Mo! What brings you to our humble pavilion?”

A young disciple at a gambling table scrambled to his feet, chuckling nervously as he signaled his companions to clear the table.

Chaos erupted across the teahouse. Though everyone here was at least Golden Core, higher cultivation meant they understood Wuji Sect’s rules—and thus indulged in laziness. The White-Robed Sword Immortal standing at the door radiated more authority than any Elder.

After all…

Elders, having lived for millennia, were detached and indifferent. Unless you were their personal disciple, they wouldn’t spare you a glance.

Mo Yuyan was different.

Young, fiery, and ruthlessly cold-she’d actually beat those who dared displease her.

“Do you see, He Yimo?”

Mo Yuyan sneered, too disdainful to bother with the scrambling disciples. She turned to He Yimo with a sigh:

“This Linjun Pavilion isn’t as grand as it seems. The scholarly atmosphere is mediocre.”

“But Senior Sister brought you here today mainly to fulfill formalities—get you registered. You won’t stay long here. Your cultivation will continue on Soot-Stained Peak, under my personal guidance.”

He Yimo nodded awkwardly.

Meanwhile, the disciples who’d been gambling just moments ago all bowed their heads, meeker than if scolded by an Elder.

Every face looked exactly as he remembered from the novel.

So nostalgic…

[If I recall correctly, a familiar face should pop up and yell soon?]

He Yimo shifted his gaze from Mo Yuyan to the crowd in the teahouse. He scanned the room—and found a senior disciple grinding his teeth, glaring resentfully but daring not speak.

“Ah! Senior Brother Zhong! We chatted during the entrance exam’s spectator gallery. I didn’t realize you were in Linjun Pavilion too!”

Spotting his “sycophant,” He Yimo beamed.

In the original story, Zhong Yuhe would confront the protagonist here, sparking their enmity.

But now, as He Yimo entered Linjun Pavilion, Zhong Yuhe remained utterly silent.

Faced with no choice, He Yimo took the initiative to greet him.

“Brat…”

Zhong Yuhe knew he was being mocked, but with Mo Yuyan right beside He Yimo—and He Yimo riding high in fame—he couldn’t retort.

As He Yimo and Zhong Yuhe exchanged glares, a girl in a white dress stood up from a corner.

Her hair was tied into two fluffy panda ears, with a low ponytail behind. She wore thick white cotton stockings—timid, bowing her head so often her bangs obscured her eyes, making her seem softer and more docile than even Yun Jin or Jiang Jinyou.

“Ah… uh… Senior Sister Mo…”

Her voice was a timid squeak.

Even without seeing her lower half, He Yimo instantly recognized her—the white-stockinged loli emblematic of the original story’s softer aesthetic.

“This is He Yimo,” Mo Yuyan introduced him beside her.

The flustered girl nodded hastily, forcing a shy smile:

“Welcome… new fellow cultivator He Yimo to Linjun Pavilion!”

As she spoke, the other disciples realized what was happening and rose, applauding.

“Tsk…”

Zhong Yuhe was the last to stand. He’d pretended not to hear, but with everyone else on their feet, he feared Mo Yuyan’s glare.

“Thank you all for the welcome.”

He Yimo bowed politely from the doorway.

The moment this introverted “panda” appeared, He Yimo’s attention shifted entirely from Zhong Yuhe—no longer caring what the senior muttered behind his back.

“He Yimo,” Mo Yuyan said, “That girl over there—shy, with twin buns and a low ponytail—is Du Xiangwan, whom I mentioned earlier.”

“Don’t underestimate her because of her appearance. Though her cultivation isn’t high, Du Xiangwan is a master of diagrammatic arrays, famed in Wuji Sect. Many array masters commission talismans or formation diagrams from her.”

“Additionally, Du Xiangwan is this year’s rotating pavilion master of Linjun Pavilion.”

Mo Yuyan spoke warmly, her eyes holding the same approval she’d shown Yun Jin.

Clearly, she favored diligent, kind, and humble disciples.

She felt similarly about He Yimo—though his cleverness and lecherous nature often left her feeling flustered, even doubting herself.

“Senior Sister Du,” He Yimo smiled warmly, leaving a good impression.

He knew Du Xiangwan well—one of the most tragic supporting characters in the original novel, like Mu Yanran, fated to die by the plot.

He Yimo didn’t pity Mu Yanran much, but he deeply resonated with Du Xiangwan—an introverted homebody like his past self, sharing her quiet nature.

“By the way,” Mo Yuyan continued, unaware of his gaze, “the one you greeted, Zhong Yuhe, is this year’s vice pavilion master.”

Before Zhong Yuhe could preen, He Yimo cut in:

“No need to introduce Senior Brother Zhong. I know him. And for any matters, I’ll go directly to Senior Sister Du. The vice master holds no real authority.”

The instant the words left his mouth, Zhong Yuhe froze, his lips twitching.

Mo Yuyan stifled a laugh. She shot He Yimo a sidelong glance—so he still held a grudge from the incident at the Grand Tutor’s mansion.

But she didn’t mind personal vendettas.

It was only natural. After all, she herself had held grudges against Gu Wanglan, publicly humiliating him in front of everyone.

In a way, it was in her blood.

“Alright,” Mo Yuyan said. “Get acquainted with your future colleagues. I’ll go handle your registration downstairs.”

With that, she patted his shoulder and left.

Only after she departed did the relieved disciples relax, curiously approaching He Yimo.

Though they were all Golden Core or Nascent Soul elites, a 30-day newcomer reaching Linjun Pavilion was unheard of—gossip was inevitable.

He Yimo wasn’t one to shrink away. After some pleasantries, he quickly satisfied their curiosity.

Seeing Mo Yuyan hadn’t returned, he scanned the room—and his gaze locked onto the cowering “panda” girl in the corner.

“Panda” because her hair was tied into two round buns, resembling fluffy panda ears. Up top, twin buns; below, a single low ponytail.

In his past life, he’d always wondered how such hairstyles worked. Now, seeing it up close, it seemed oddly logical.

“…?!”

Meanwhile, in the corner, the girl in white flinched, lowering her head further.

She pretended not to notice him, gripping a slender brush and sketching intently at her desk.

But no matter how hard she tried to vanish, his footsteps drew nearer.

Slap!

He Yimo’s hand landed flat on her array diagram.

Du Xiangwan jolted, shrinking back as she timidly peeked up through her bangs:

“Th-that…?”

He intimidated her.

But against the setting sun, He Yimo’s lips softened, his cold eyes warming—just as they had when he first met Yun Jin.

“I hear Senior Sister Du is skilled in drawing. I have a commission for you.”

“Of course… money is no object.”

With that, he drew a heavy purse from his sleeve.

[So… much money…!]

The “panda” girl stared, wide-eyed, silently swallowing.