After three years in the mountains, Shen Qiao's cultivation was still stuck at the peak of Level Two, because she could understand every spirit beast.
A spirit deer haggled with her, a wild boar demon was persuaded to work off its debts, and she questioned the spirit beasts one by one to uncover the cause of the plague sweeping the whole town. The most useless junior sister in the entire cultivation world kept her impoverished sect afloat with nothing but her gift for understanding animal speech.
Her stoic senior brother complained about her but always had her back. Her stingy master gave every last one of his private spirit stones to his disciples. The alchemy room blew up every few days, and the talisman paper was more reliable than the people drawing on it.
Until one day, people from the upper sect arrived with a measuring stick and declared, "Sooner or later, this mountain will belong to Xuanxiao."
She tied that old sword tassel to her waist. Why should this mountain belong to someone else?
