The cave mansion where Wang Yingfang resides is called Hongyan Temple, located on a floating island on the western side of Xuanling Mountain.
The temple is built atop a cliff, with mountain springs bubbling in front and lingzhi grass scattered across the area. Spiritual birds and exotic beasts play and frolic among verdant vines of green and purple, exuding vitality and life.
Within the temple lies a crystal-clear pond, lined with elegant lotus flowers and flawless white lotus roots. Green willows lean over the edges, draping gracefully amidst fragrant breezes. In the shade of lush trees, cicadas chirp while golden orioles sing melodiously. The serene landscapes, with rare and exotic blooms everywhere, are enough to ease one’s worries at first glance.
Wang Yingfang invited Zhang Yan into the temple, where the two took their seats as host and guest. Smiling, she asked, "Daoist Zhang, what do you think of this place?"
Zhang Yan nodded approvingly and replied, "It resembles nothing less than a paradise."
He was not merely flattering her. Though Xuanling Island was sculpted by True Master Tao, its design lacked a certain natural charm. However, it was evident that Wang Yingfang had put great effort into beautifying her temple.
Upon hearing Zhang Yan’s praise, Wang Yingfang smiled faintly. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she summoned her disciples to the Upper Hall.
Zhang Yan scanned the group, noticing that there were twelve disciples in total, most of whom were demon cultivators of varying levels. The majority had Ming Qi cultivation, while only two had advanced to the Xuan Guang Realm.
Among them, three or four had only recently undergone transformation, their cultivation still rudimentary. Scales or feathers remained faintly visible behind their ears, clearly indicating that they had yet to learn Mysterious Skills and still retained traces of demon energy—birds or aquatic creatures in their original forms.
After transforming, demon cultivators often concealed their origins and lineage. Unless forced into life-or-death situations, they were reluctant to reveal their true forms, fearing ridicule.
Glancing at Wang Yingfang, Zhang Yan pondered to himself, recalling that Guo Lie often praised his junior sister’s deep-rooted talents. He could not help but wonder—what was this beautiful Daoist nun’s true form?
With a flourish of her horsetail whisk, Wang Yingfang addressed her disciples sternly, "This Zhang Junior Master of yours is a True Disciple from the Mingcang Sect, a Great Xuanmen Sect. Why haven’t you come forward to pay respects?"
Her disciples, a mix collected from East Splendor Continent and East Sea, were mostly of shallow origins. Yet, hearing that Zhang Yan hailed from the esteemed Mingcang Sect, they eagerly stepped forward to offer greetings, their curious gazes fixed upon him.
With a mild smile, Zhang Yan gestured politely and said, "Nephew disciples, there’s no need for excessive formalities. I hadn’t expected Daoist Wang to have so many talented disciples."
Wang Yingfang chuckled and shook her head, sighing, "Among Qingyu disciples, our eldest senior brother hasn’t taken any students. Our second senior brother has over twenty disciples. As for me, I’m not particularly accomplished but still have a dozen or so. However, if you’re counting numbers, it’s my fourth senior brother who’s unmatched. He doesn’t care about origins or merit—he accepts anyone willing to join, indiscriminately. But in doing so, the quality of his disciples inevitably varies greatly."
As she spoke, she beckoned one particular disciple forward—a girl in a yellow dress, bright-eyed and radiant—to step up. She remarked, "Daoist Zhang, you’ve met my nephew Fu who excels at creating talismans. Now, take a look at this disciple of mine—what do you think?"
Zhang Yan’s gaze fell upon the girl, sizing her up. She stood gracefully without hesitation, though her cheeks flushed faintly with a hint of red.
After a moment of appraisal, Zhang Yan suddenly pointed his finger, sending a ray of light directly toward her eyes. The gathered disciples gasped in shock, their faces pale with fear. Yet the girl remained composed, her expression unchanged, her calm and steadfast gaze betraying no trace of panic.
Midway through his technique, Zhang Yan withdrew the sword light, nodding in approval as he commented, "Outstanding aptitude, unwavering temperament, and admirable root nature. Though she has only recently begun Opening Meridians, with proper training and experience, she is destined for great achievements."
His praise was genuine, carrying far more weight than mere courtesy. Wang Yingfang listened with joy and turned to the girl, saying, "Lan’er, why don’t you thank Junior Master Zhang for his commendation?"
The disciple, intelligent and charming, understood the implicit expectations. Her radiant eyes sparkled as she stepped forward with a sweet smile and said, "Nephew Wu Lan’er greets Junior Master Zhang."
After speaking, she raised her head, her bright eyes focused squarely on Zhang Yan.
Seeing her demeanor, Zhang Yan chuckled silently and thought, "I wondered what Daoist Wang’s intention was—perhaps to showcase her disciple. But now it’s clear—she’s angling for a meeting gift. I don’t mind offering a small token of goodwill, though I hope you’re prepared for such a favor."
With a slight smile, Zhang Yan pulled out an item from his sleeve—it was the Bone Marrow Great Virtue Ointment. Given his mastery of the God Contract Mysterious Skill, any injuries he sustained could be swiftly healed by circulating the skill, rendering the ointment unnecessary to him. It was, therefore, perfect for gaining favor.
With a flick of his hand, he tossed a jade bottle toward Wu Lan’er, saying, "As this is our first meeting, I don’t have anything exceptional prepared. This item has some useful properties; consider it my gift to you."