Category: The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration]

Chapter 77: Disciple and Wife

A Mahayana cultivator could travel thousands of miles in an instant. One moment, she was at the Hanshan Sect’s gate, the next, she stood on Wangshu Peak.

The peak, bathed in perpetual spring, its lush vegetation even more vibrant than she remembered, welcomed her back. The startled birds and beasts, momentarily forgetting their former resident, scattered, then cautiously reemerged, their curious eyes peering from behind trees and bushes.

Ignoring them, she walked towards the two small houses, her robes swirling around her.

Tao Ning circled the houses, disabling the protective formations she had set up, then stepped inside.

The interior was unchanged, clean and dust-free, the landscape screen emitting a soft, warm glow.

Sensing her return, the ever-burning lamp in the corner flickered to life, illuminating the room.

Tao Ning sat down, retrieving a small, ice-like shard from her sleeve, barely an inch long, resembling a miniature jade slip.

She had taken it from Xiao Haoran’s spatial pouch. It was the source of the faint demonic aura clinging to him.

With his soul destroyed, the spiritual imprint was weak, easily erased.

She turned the shard over in her fingers. It seemed ordinary, unresponsive to her spiritual energy, neither growing nor shrinking, offering no clues.

520 scanned it, but found nothing. 【What is this? I can’t identify it.】

Tao Ning: “You don’t know either?”

520: 【Is there something special about it?】

Tao Ning placed the shard on the table, her voice carrying across the empty room. “I’m back. Aren’t you coming out?”

A shadowy figure materialized behind the table, settling onto a chair. “My master was the founder of Qianqi Peak. You’re in the wrong place.”

Tao Ning: “Just wait. I’ll bury you on Qianqi Peak later.”

The figure was silent for a moment, then, glancing at the empty table, seemed to let out a soft tsk. “I found a patch of rare tea plants on the back slopes of Qianqi Peak. The last time I left, they weren’t ready for harvest. I only took a small amount. I wonder who’s enjoying them now.”

The sudden appearance of the figure almost made 520 scream. It did, in fact, emit a high-pitched shriek, but Tao Ning, anticipating its reaction, had muted it, sparing her eardrums.

Calming down, it reminded itself this was a cultivation world. Ghosts were normal.

The figure, however, looked familiar. Its features were slightly blurred, indistinct, but it wore dark robes and a golden crown, suggesting a position of power in its previous life.

And it bore a striking resemblance to Tao Ning, like a reflection in a mirror.

The only differences were in their demeanor and their aura.

A soul could influence its host’s appearance, but subtle differences always remained.

The figure exuded an untamed, almost regal aura, while Tao Ning was more reserved, her power concealed beneath a gentle exterior.

520 finally understood. This was Qingji’s lingering spirit, somehow evading the Heavenly Dao, hiding within the protagonist’s jade slip.

That’s why it couldn’t scan anything. It had registered as a blank shard.

“Tea? That’s easy.” Tao Ning’s hand swept across the table, and a tea set materialized.

With graceful, practiced movements, she brewed a pot of tea, its fragrant steam filling the room. A hand reached out, pouring the tea into two jade cups.

Placing one cup before the figure, she said, “Here.” She took a sip from her own cup.

Qingji, a mere wisp of a soul, nearing dissipation, could only observe, unable to partake in such earthly pleasures.

Enjoying the aroma, she asked, “How did you know it was me? Why didn’t you mistake that demonic aura for another cultivator?”

Tao Ning took another sip of tea, shaking her head. “I’m not risking another lightning strike.”

The Heavenly Dao in cultivation worlds was sensitive, far more active than in other worlds, always ready to punish transgressions.

Qingji, understanding, realized there was no need to pry. Everyone had their secrets. “I see. You’ve… experienced that.”

Tao Ning, placing down her cup, said, “You kept leaking demonic energy. It was hard to miss.”

Qingji: “Many missed it. Are all Radiant Realm cultivators so… oblivious?”

The once-proud Demon Lord, in her usual condescending manner, dismissed all cultivators, forgetting her own origins.

Talent often bred arrogance. Qingji, having achieved fame at a young age, ruling the Demonic Realm for centuries, wasn’t known for her humility.

Tao Ning felt the need to explain. “You managed to evade the Heavenly Dao’s detection. It’s not surprising they couldn’t sense your faint demonic aura.”

Qingji: “That’s different. They couldn’t even sense the demonic energy from the abyss. They’re just… incompetent.”

Tao Ning sipped her tea, listening as the former Demon Lord continued her rant, sparing no one.

Finally, Tao Ning spoke. “I wouldn’t be satisfied unless I saw him die myself.”

She gestured towards the jade shard. “So you created this?”

Qingji: “I sent him to the Hanshan Sect to die. I didn’t expect him to be so useless. He couldn’t even join the sect. I overestimated him.”

She had anticipated Xiao Haoran’s attachment to the “Heavenly Book,” his reliance on it making him a target, assuming any cultivator encountering him would eliminate him.

At the very least, upon reaching the Hanshan Sect’s spirit testing stone, his unusual spiritual roots and blocked meridians would be discovered.

But few had noticed, only the Demonic Realm spy and Tao Ning.

Tao Ning: “You went too far.”

Qingji conceded. “Indeed. That’s why he escaped several times, meeting Chi Xiaxia prematurely, clinging to that sliver of hope.”

A thousand years ago, at the height of her power, on the verge of ascension, Qingji had glimpsed a sliver of destiny, foreseeing her own future.

She wouldn’t be anyone’s stepping stone. She had made preparations, even crafting artifacts to withstand the tribulation lightning, but time had run out. Her tribulation arrived early, forcing her hand. Delaying it further would have resulted in her death, either by tribulation lightning or by her own uncontrolled power.

She had gambled, and lost.

“Heaven wouldn’t allow it. It wanted to destroy my soul. But I found a loophole. I waited for you.”

Tao Ning’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “So the final lightning strike… it hit me. You transferred it.”

Qingji hadn’t completed her tribulation.

While she was a spiritual cultivator, her years in the Demonic Realm, her creation of the Wanhun Cauldron, had tainted her, creating karmic debts.

She couldn’t survive the full force of the Nine Heavens Tribulation. Her soul would have been destroyed, her essence scattered, preventing reincarnation.

But now, not only was her soul intact, but it had also entered the cycle of reincarnation, seeking a suitable vessel. In a hundred years, another “Qingji” would be born.

Qingji smiled faintly, not denying it.

She hadn’t expected this otherworldly soul to survive. When that annoying little thing had asked about her final wish, she had planted a seed, not expecting it to bear fruit.

520 was speechless.

It hadn’t been a system error that had brought its host into the world prematurely. It had been a deliberate act.

With or without a host, Qingji would have abandoned her dying body, preserving her soul. The host had simply provided a more secure hiding place.

That explained her ready agreement to Tao Ning’s request. She had been eager to escape!

Qingji, her voice filled with a newfound respect, said, “You and I… we’re the same.”

Tao Ning quickly raised her hand, palm outwards. “No, I’m not like you. I’m not alone. I have a Dao companion.”

Qingji: “…”

The figure vanished, 520 suspecting she had been offended.

Even her disappearance was accompanied by a disgruntled huff.

---

Cen Dianshuang arrived at the small house halfway up the mountain, finding Tao Ning crouched in the courtyard, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

She watched for a moment, then approached, her steps lighter than usual. “What are you doing, Grand Ancestor?”

Tao Ning jumped, clutching her chest, falling dramatically to the ground. “You scared me!”

Cen Dianshuang, not believing her, simply stared.

Tao Ning, clutching her chest like a delicate flower, looked up at her, her voice weak and slightly breathless. “I think… I think I’m injured. That mirror… There seem to be… lingering effects.”

Having lived for centuries, surviving a tribulation and arriving at the Hanshan Sect bearing countless scars, she was a master of playing the victim.

Cen Dianshuang’s eyes flickered, then hardened.

Tao Ning, her beauty enhanced by her fox-like eyes, beckoned weakly. “Perhaps you should… examine me?”

520, always eager to encourage mischief, added, 【Why don’t you loosen your collar a bit? Expose a little shoulder?】

Cen Dianshuang, after a moment of contemplation, turned and walked away, her expression unreadable.

She needed time to process everything. She couldn’t even manage a proper reprimand.

A hand grasped her skirt, tugging gently. Tao Ning, her grip light and hesitant, simply held on, swaying slightly.

Like a child seeking attention.

Cen Dianshuang sighed, turning back to help Tao Ning up, her hand instinctively reaching for her wrist, then pausing, her own spiritual sense momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer power of Tao Ning’s meridians.

She looked at Tao Ning, her gaze complex, then turned and walked towards the steps leading up to her cave.

Tao Ning followed, her voice soft, almost pleading. “I didn’t mean to deceive you. I just… I didn’t know how the Hanshan Sect felt about… those from the Demonic Realm… But my feelings for you are real. I truly… I truly care for you. I swear to the heavens.”

Cen Dianshuang stumbled on the steps.

She quickened her pace, refusing to turn around.

Tao Ning, her robes swirling around her as she hurried after her master, continued, “I, Tao Ning, swear to the heavens, if I have been deceitful in any way, then…”

A Mahayana cultivator’s oath carried weight. Dark clouds gathered overhead. Any falsehood would be punished by tribulation lightning.

Cen Dianshuang, seeing her seriousness, stopped, turning sharply. “Why did you shield me from the Cycle Mirror?”

Unlike the others, she possessed her mother’s inherited memories. She knew the Cycle Mirror was a Demonic Beast Realm treasure, its activation requiring the sacrifice of a thousand-year-old demon core, a precious and rare artifact.

The two schemers, their greed blinding them, had inadvertently empowered Tao Ning.

Tao Ning hesitated, her mouth opening and closing slightly. “Because… there were so many people… and he said it could… reveal one’s true form… I couldn’t let you be exposed.”

Her instinctive reaction had been genuine. Cen Dianshuang hadn’t anticipated such a drastic measure. She had been terrified, fearing her true nature would be revealed. Tao Ning had shielded her, pushing her behind her, covering her eyes with her hand, whispering, “Don’t worry. It’ll be alright.”

And she had been protected. If her true form had been revealed, not only would she have been in danger, but the Hanshan Sect would have faced severe repercussions.

Cen Dianshuang’s voice was barely a whisper. “You knew… I was a… demon?”

Tao Ning: “Yes.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Did you know…?” …that I’m a hybrid?

Tao Ning’s voice was firm. “Yes. I don’t care. I only care about you.”

Cen Dianshuang, no longer able to deny her own feelings, asked, “When did you know?” She hadn’t sensed any mockery or judgment from Tao Ning.

Transforming into her true form might shrink her size, but not her intelligence.

She was simply… confused.

Tao Ning’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “I’ve known for a while. The screen with the Shangxi bird… This peak’s name, Wangshu… The ‘Frost’ token… And you never appeared with the Shangxi bird at the same time.”

520 was bewildered. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! Where’s the denial? The accusations? The dramatic pronouncements of betrayal?

Why are they talking about demons?

It had been confused by the mention of Shangxi birds, then realized – The bird! The grumpy little bird Tao Ning kept teasing! It was Cen Dianshuang all along!

How?! How did she figure it out?! They’re so different! There’s no resemblance!

Were there really that many clues? Why didn’t I notice?

Who would connect such minor details to a Hanshan Sect elder? Wouldn’t that be crazy?

520, as usual, struggled to keep up with its host’s thought processes.

Cen Dianshuang, listening to Tao Ning’s explanation, felt exposed, her carefully constructed facade crumbling, then she recovered.

Tao Ning was observant, perceptive, and Cen Dianshuang, having lowered her guard, had practically handed her the answers.

Remembering the ruthless efficiency of Tao Ning’s earlier actions, she asked, “You knew… from the first time we met?”

Tao Ning, unaware of her reputation shook her head quickly. “No, not then. I didn’t know.”

Cen Dianshuang was relieved. She didn’t want to relive the constant frustration of those early encounters. She had assumed Tao Ning’s change in demeanor had been a sign of maturity.

Now, she realized it had been suspicion.

“The spirit boat in Shadow City… You did that deliberately, didn’t you?”

Tao Ning nodded. “Yes.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Why?” If not for today’s events, she would have found a way to ask.

Tao Ning: “Because I didn’t want to keep it from you forever, but I didn’t know how the Hanshan Sect would react.”

It was a complicated situation, a secret she had never shared before.

Crippling her cultivation had been a precautionary measure. If the Hanshan Sect, like other sects, rejected former demonic cultivators, it would have created unnecessary complications.

And with no one suspecting her true identity, she hadn’t seen the need to reveal it, to disrupt their peaceful existence.

She hadn’t anticipated regaining her full power, or today’s events.

Cen Dianshuang understood.

She too had struggled with her Shangxi heritage.

Tao Ning, taking her hand, her gaze fixed on Cen Dianshuang’s face, said, “No matter who I am, my feelings for you won’t change. If you want to stay at the Hanshan Sect, I’ll stay with you. If you want to leave, I’ll travel the world with you. We’ll be free.”

Cen Dianshuang: “I… I need some time.” She turned and practically ran back to her cave, activating the protective formation.

Tao Ning, her first time at the summit, stopped before the cave entrance, not daring to intrude.

A sweet fragrance reached her, and she noticed a lotus pond beside the cave, its blossoms large and vibrant, their scent intoxicating.

She remembered the lotus flowers depicted on the screen in her room, the one Cen Dianshuang had used for only a single night.

That explained Wangshu Peak’s isolation, Cen Dianshuang’s reluctance to allow visitors. There were always clues, if one looked closely enough.

A rumble overhead, and a sudden downpour drenched Tao Ning, who hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Tao Ning: …Did I anger the bird?

520 silently activated its camera function.

Outside Wangshu Peak, passing disciples, noticing the sudden storm, looked up in surprise. “What’s with the heavy rain?”

Another disciple, also looking towards the peak, exclaimed, “I haven’t seen rain like this in a hundred years!”

Cen Dianshuang, after a long period of emotional turmoil stopped the rain, emerging from her cave.

Tao Ning was still there, standing by the lotus pond, a large lotus leaf held above her head like an umbrella, its surface dotted with raindrops.

She had changed her clothes, but the style remained the same: long, flowing robes, layered and intricate.

The pale green fabric, elegant and refined, suited her perfectly, like a lotus spirit given human form.

The purple robe had also suited her, its color vibrant and striking.

In truth, everything looked good on Tao Ning. In Cen Dianshuang’s eyes, she was perfect.

Tao Ning, holding the lotus leaf, her feet submerged in the shallow water, muttered, “What am I supposed to do now…?”

520: 【It’s simple. Wait for her to calm down, then tell her, ‘Let’s keep our titles. You call me Grand Ancestor, I call you Master. We can even get married secretly. It’ll be exciting.’】

Tao Ning: “…”

Sensing Cen Dianshuang’s approach, she turned, holding a bowl filled with lotus seeds. “I peeled some lotus seeds. Would you like some?”

Cen Dianshuang sat beside her, her voice calm. “Yes.”

Lotus seeds peeled by my Grand Ancestor, who is also potentially my “wife” – I’ve faced demon lords and survived. I can handle this.

Chapter 76: Disciple and Wife

At the mountain gate, Demon Lord Tu Ming, confident in his victory, sat atop his giant dragon, leisurely directing the assault on the Hanshan Sect’s protective formation.

Under the relentless barrage, the formation flickered, its defenses weakening.

Sensing this, Tu Ming sent his subordinates to taunt the defenders, their words a repetitive stream of insults and threats, intended to demoralize and distract.

Battles between spiritual and demonic cultivators were often more brutal and destructive, but the initial posturing, the hesitation before the first strike, was similar to any mundane conflict. Without a clear advantage, neither side wanted to commit.

The demons were waiting for the Saintess to breach the formation from within.

So, for now, the battle remained a war of words, the Radiant Realm side fielding their most skilled orators to counter the demons’ taunts.

The younger disciples, unfamiliar with the demons’ brutality, struggled to contain their amusement at the childish exchange of “Come out and fight!” and “Come in if you dare!”, their laughter stifled by the presence of their elders.

Lizhu, however, wasn’t amused. Her calm demeanor was a carefully constructed facade.

Elder Qianlian, standing beside her, muttered, “Senior Sister, tell me I’m not dreaming. Grand Ancestor… alive… Here…”

Lizhu: “Don’t talk to me. I’m thinking.”

Her hands moved rapidly, forming intricate seals, a blur of red as she reinforced the weakening formation.

Elder Qianlian, a master of multitasking, her hands mirroring Lizhu’s movements, continued her rambling.

She had always been like this, her anxiety manifesting as a torrent of words, her speed rivaling a Buddhist monk chanting scriptures.

“It all makes sense now! Two divine artifacts… Why didn’t I realize it was Grand Ancestor?!”

Lizhu, sending another surge of energy into the formation, thought, Why didn’t I realize it?

She had suspected Tao Ning, testing her repeatedly, but the girl had deflected her inquiries effortlessly.

She had assumed Tao Ning was a reincarnated cultivator, seeking refuge in the Hanshan Sect, her pure heart and her loyalty to the sect, despite her secrets, making her a valuable asset.

If she had known Tao Ning’s true identity, she wouldn’t have tolerated the girl’s deception, helping Cen Dianshuang conceal it.

But who would have guessed it wasn’t a reincarnated elder, but their own ancestor?

She couldn’t dwell on it. The thought made her legs weak. Facing three Heaven-grade artifacts, she hadn’t investigated further, the revelation, now that it had come, strangely unsurprising.

Tao Ning had, after all, hinted at her true identity, offering subtle clues, which Lizhu, having returned the artifacts, had misinterpreted.

Remembering Qingji’s expression, she finally understood: it had been the look of disappointment, of unspoken words, of a message not received.

With the Hanshan Sect’s combined efforts, the protective formation stabilized, its defenses restored, silencing the demons’ taunts.

Tu Ming’s Left Protector spoke, his voice hesitant. “My Lord, the Saintess isn’t coming. Perhaps…”

Tu Ming glared at him, and the Left Protector quickly lowered his head. “The Saintess is always reliable, my Lord. But those Hanshan Sect cultivators are unpredictable. Perhaps she’s been… delayed.”

Before arriving, the Saintess had informed Tu Ming of the Wanhun Cauldron’s location within the Hanshan Sect, intending to retrieve it herself.

Tu Ming, however, had other plans. He wanted to test the cauldron’s power, and the assembled cultivators were the perfect sacrifice, a chance to cripple the Radiant Realm’s next generation.

He hadn’t considered targeting the elders. Witnessing the Radiant Realm’s weakened state, its future uncertain, was also part of his plan.

His smile faded, his expression hardening, his demeanor now that of a true Demon Lord. “The Hanshan Sect cowards hide behind their formation. And you all cower with them. Very well. What’s the closest sect to this place?”

The Left Protector, understanding his Lord’s unspoken intentions, replied, “The Zuo Yang Sect, my Lord. Then the Heavenly Heart Sect. And further south, the Green Pine Academy.”

The cultivators behind the formation paled, especially those from the mentioned sects.

Tu Ming waved a hand dismissively. “Then we’ll start with the Zuo Yang Sect. I’ll destroy a sect for every day you refuse to surrender the cauldron. Let’s see how long you can last.”

The Left Protector bowed. “Yes, my Lord!” He turned to relay the order.

The Zuo Yang Sect Leader’s face was ashen. “Despicable! Cowardly!”

While they were safe behind the formation, the other sects lacked such powerful defenses.

Many sect leaders and clan heads were present. Even if their elders emerged from seclusion, the damage would be done.

First the Zuo Yang Sect, then who?

Tu Ming’s voice boomed across the training grounds. “Surrender the Wanhun Cauldron. It’s not meant for the Radiant Realm.”

His words sparked panic among the cultivators behind the formation, their voices rising in protest, demanding Lizhu’s intervention.

“Sect Leader Lizhu, you have a protective formation! We don’t!”

“Are you willing to sacrifice our sects to protect your own?!”

A Hanshan Sect disciple retorted angrily, “What are you suggesting? That our Sect Leader lower the formation and let you all escape?!”

Lizhu, her lips pressed into a thin line, was about to respond when a voice, amplified by spiritual energy, echoed through the arena. “My possessions? You dare claim them as your own? Such audacity.”

The words brought a flicker of hope to the trapped cultivators, their gazes turning towards the source of the sound.

The voice sounded familiar. Tu Ming, perched on his dragon, frowned, trying to place it.

“Such arrogance. Show yourself!”

The crowd of cultivators parted, revealing a figure in purple, their gaze fixed on Tu Ming.

“Tu Ming, you dare speak to me like that?”

She was right. During Qingji’s reign, Tu Ming had been a minor official in her palace, required to address her as “Lord.”

A Demon Lord always had sycophants eager to defend his honor. Before Tu Ming could even react, one of his subordinates shouted, “Who are you?!”

“You dare address our Lord by name?! You’re courting death!”

Demonic cultivators were skilled in the art of verbal abuse, their insults far more direct and colorful than their Radiant Realm counterparts.

The cultivators behind Tao Ning exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement. She’s got guts.

The demonic cultivator, unaware he had just insulted the former Demon Lord, preened himself, expecting praise from his master.

But Tu Ming’s arrogant expression faltered, his face paling as he recognized the figure before him, his hand instinctively tightening on the dragon’s mane.

“Retreat!” he shrieked. “Retreat! Retreat!”

The demonic cultivators: ???

The dragon, its mane pulled painfully, roared in protest, its cry, amplified by its demonic energy, echoing through the arena, sending several cultivators reeling, blood trickling from their ears.

They had never seen their Lord so terrified. Confused, they hesitated, then began to retreat.

In their eyes, Demon Lord Tu Ming, a Body Integration cultivator, more powerful than even Lizhu, was invincible. Why was he so afraid of this unknown woman?

Tao Ning, her back to the crowd, a single figure holding them all at bay, glanced sideways at Lizhu. “Sect Leader.”

Lizhu immediately deactivated the formation.

Tu Ming, abandoning his carefully trained mount, turned and fled.

Facing Qingji directly?

He wasn’t suicidal. She had survived a tribulation and was now standing there, unharmed. He had no chance.

Tao Ning, with a flick of her wrist, unleashed a wave of spiritual energy, summoning the Wanhun Cauldron, which grew larger as it flew towards Tu Ming, engulfing him with a resounding boom.

The cauldron he had coveted for centuries was now his prison.

Tu Ming’s vision went black. When he opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by flames, trapped within the cauldron’s fiery depths.

As a Demon Lord, he wasn’t easily killed. Tao Ning, having captured their leader, now turned her attention to the remaining demons, a disorganized rabble without their leader’s guidance.

The demons, still confused, turned to flee, their morale shattered, their banners abandoned in their haste.

The Wanhun Cauldron, having finally tasted something… returned, bobbing happily.

Before it could receive its master’s praise, Tao Ning summoned Poheng, leaping into the air, and with a single, powerful strike, severed the dragon’s head.

A torrent of black blood rained down, staining the earth, withering the grass for miles around.

The massive head crashed to the ground, crushing several demons, the impact shaking the earth, sending the remaining demons fleeing.

But their escape was short-lived. The dragon’s massive body followed, its weight crushing those beneath it. Those who survived would be dealt with by the Hanshan Sect disciples cleaning the battlefield.

The single, earth-shattering blow, severing the dragon’s head, was a sight to behold.

The earlier arguments about demon spies and cauldrons were forgotten. This display of power was awe-inspiring.

A sword fanatic, too stunned to continue his pursuit of the fleeing demons, stared at Tao Ning, his voice filled with excitement. “What was that technique?! Is it the Hanshan Sect’s Carefree Sword? It must be!”

Lizhu hesitated, then shook her head. “No. That was my Junior Sister Cen’s self-created Thirteen Forms of Falling Snow.”

The sword fanatic: “I once fought True Person Cen. I almost defeated her. She used the Falling Snow technique, but it wasn’t as powerful… Is this a new form?”

Lizhu chuckled. “Perhaps it’s a matter of cultivation level.” Or perhaps it’s just my Grand Ancestor showing off.

With the main threat eliminated, the remaining demons, disorganized and demoralized, were easily dispatched by the other cultivators.

Lizhu deactivated the protective formation, leading her disciples down the mountain to pursue the fleeing demons. The Zuo Yang Sect cultivators rushed towards their sect, hoping to salvage what they could.

True Person Chang Xiang turned to Pang Xueting, her voice filled with disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me your savior was so powerful?”

Pang Xueting, near tears, replied, “Master, this isn’t the time for jokes.”

True Person Chang Xiang, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, said, “Oh.” Perhaps she was getting old, unable to keep up with the younger generation’s humor. Was that not a joke?

She turned, seeing Cen Dianshuang approaching, her own expression now a mix of apprehension and uncertainty. “Fellow Cultivator Cen…”

Cen Dianshuang, her face impassive, replied, “I also don’t know what just happened.”

True Person Chang Xiang: “…”

That expression… something’s wrong… but I can’t quite place it…

Demon Lord Tu Ming, arriving with confidence, had been swiftly and decisively defeated, most of his forces decimated.

Tao Ning stood on the mountain peak, Poheng in hand, her gaze fixed on the disciples cleaning the battlefield.

The Wanhun Cauldron, bobbing happily, circled her, complaining about the demon lord kicking it in the stomach.

This time, 520 offered no commentary, its attention focused on its host’s new, astronomical debt.

The moment the mission was completed, it had submitted its expense report, its efficiency honed by painful experience.

Its well-worn excuses, however, were once again accepted.

Tao Ning’s debt increased dramatically.

The minus sign before the number was a constant reminder of her status as the ultimate debtor.

520, despite knowing it wasn’t its own money, felt a pang of sympathy for its host, the long string of numbers a symbol of her romantic endeavors.

“Stomach ache?” Tao Ning glanced at the cauldron.

The Wanhun Cauldron, no longer daring to complain loudly in her presence, simply whimpered softly.

Tao Ning: “Deal with it.”

The cauldron, sensing its master’s displeasure, retreated into her sleeve, seeking a quiet corner to sulk.

No fighting with that fiery furnace today. My stomach hurts.

Tao Ning, unsure of what to do next, called out, “Sect Leader Lizhu.”

Lizhu, having overseen the initial cleanup, approached hesitantly, bowing respectfully. “I’m here, Grand Ancestor.”

Silence fell as Tao Ning, instead of speaking aloud, sent a private message to Lizhu.

Lizhu’s expression shifted rapidly, a whirlwind of emotions, before settling on a look of bewildered acceptance. She looked at Tao Ning, her gaze complex.

Tao Ning: “What?”

Lizhu, suppressing her countless questions, lowered her head. “As you command, Grand Ancestor.”

Tao Ning nodded, then, glancing at the Hanshan Sect’s mountain gate, flew away.

Cen Dianshuang, who had known this might happen, still found herself taking a step forward, as if to follow, then stopped, watching as Tao Ning disappeared into the distance.

She had no desire to linger, but her sect needed her.

She turned to descend the steps, intending to find Lizhu.

Below, Ling Huabi, shading her eyes, nudged Jin Jiamu. “Your ancestor is leaving.”

Jin Jiamu: …She’s definitely doing this on purpose. She had explained the incident with the veil, the accidental sword strike, but Ling Huabi refused to believe her.

Jin Jiamu sighed, not bothering to argue. “Yes, she’s gone. Who knows if she’ll ever return…” She paused, noticing Ling Huabi’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

Ling Huabi pointed behind her. “Elder Cen…”

Jin Jiamu’s face paled, and she turned, bowing quickly. “Elder Cen.”

“Mmm.”

Cen Dianshuang, outwardly calm, walked past them, her steps measured and controlled, but her aura radiated a storm of unspoken emotions.

Her carefully nurtured disciple had suddenly turned into their ancestor. The shock was understandable.

The demons at the gate, those who hadn’t fled, were being rounded up. Fortunately, they had arrived too late to cause significant damage to the nearby town, their desire for secrecy preventing a full-scale attack.

The disciple competition was likely canceled, the other sects preparing to leave.

Lizhu called out, stopping them. “Wait.”

The two words sent a shiver of apprehension through the assembled cultivators. This sounded like a reckoning.

Lizhu smiled, her expression carefully neutral. “You’re all curious about what Grand Ancestor just told me, aren’t you? I’ll relay her message.”

An elderly cultivator waved his hand dismissively. “That’s a Hanshan Sect internal matter. We shouldn’t interfere.”

Lizhu, however, her face as thick as a city wall, refused to be deterred.

“No, no, it concerns everyone. Grand Ancestor said…”

Tao Ning’s words echoed in her mind. “Don’t sugarcoat it. Tell them my services aren’t free. They’ll pay by the head. And if they dare try to cause trouble between me and Dianshuang, they’ll regret it.”

Of course, Lizhu couldn’t repeat the last part. She still had to maintain a certain decorum as Sect Leader.

Her voice, however, was flat, her tone betraying a hint of satisfaction. “She also said…”

Tao Ning’s voice, cold and sharp, echoed in her mind. “I won’t do this for free again. The Heavenly Heart Sect will pay double. If they refuse, I’ll collect it myself. If this were the past… Hmph.”

That single sound had sent shivers down Lizhu’s spine.

Silence fell over the training grounds, the cultivators struggling to reconcile the image of the aloof and powerful figure with the… petty demand for compensation.

But she was the former Demon Lord, a force to be reckoned with.

The Heavenly Heart Sect Leader protested. “Why should we pay double?”

Lizhu, giving him a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on her lips, replied, “Perhaps you should ask your own disciples how many of them were saved by my Grand Ancestor in Shadow City. Are you now refusing to repay that debt? If you have any objections, my Grand Ancestor will be happy to discuss the matter with you personally.”

The Heavenly Heart Sect Leader’s expression shifted rapidly, his gaze lingering on the severed dragon head and the scattered remains of its body. He conceded.

Lizhu, her gaze sweeping over the assembled cultivators, her smile not reaching her eyes, asked, “Any other objections?”

Cen Dianshuang: …That sounds exactly like something Tao Ning would do.

Whether you like it or not, I’ll do as I please.

The cultivators: …Objections? Who would dare object?

You Hanshan Sect hypocrites! Releasing your ancestor without warning! You should have told us not to provoke her!

Chapter 75: Disciple and Wife

Pointing at Tao Ning, Xiao Haoran declared, his voice filled with righteous indignation, “Tao Ning is a spy sent by the Demon Lord! She killed Er Lan, and she tried to kill me!”

Chu Jingtong added, his voice smooth and insidious, “Such a ruthless and depraved individual… How could the Hanshan Sect be so blind?”

Their coordinated attack shifted the blame squarely onto the Hanshan Sect, its reputation now at stake.

A cultivator spoke up, his voice echoing through the arena. “If that’s true, then this demon spy cannot remain within the Hanshan Sect. She should be imprisoned in the Cloud Soaring Palace, known for its impartiality, until the truth is revealed.”

Ling Huabi, the Young Mistress, sitting on the viewing platform, her face veiled, her lips twitching beneath the silk, was startled.

Her mother hadn’t mentioned anything about this.

Who had started the rumor about the Cloud Soaring Palace’s impartiality? They had simply imprisoned a few particularly troublesome cultivators. Did they think her sect was some kind of interdimensional police force?

Jin Jiamu, her voice filled with alarm, protested, “Imprison my fellow disciple? No! She saved my life!”

Ling Huabi, taken aback, retorted, “Who said anything about imprisoning anyone? Does the Cloud Soaring Palace look like it has time for such trivial matters?”

“This is a setup! A deliberate frame-up!” Jin Jiamu was worried. She had heard about the extinguished soul lamp, but she hadn’t expected it to be blamed on Tao Ning.

Ling Huabi, her own annoyance growing, wondered who was giving her that unsettling look.

She glared back.

Xiao Haoran, noticing the Young Mistress, and catching her glare, quickly said, “The Cloud Soaring Palace is known for its fairness. Their involvement will ensure a just outcome.”

His words weren’t reassuring. Another cultivator shouted, “Why bother with investigations? Demonic techniques are treacherous and unpredictable! She should be executed immediately!”

He leaped onto the platform, launching a full-powered attack, his Nascent Soul cultivation evident in the force of the blow, clearly intending to kill.

Tao Ning’s eyes narrowed, her mind already calculating the most efficient method of eliminating this threat.

Cen Dianshuang, unable to tolerate this any longer, acted.

A flash of white, and a sword landed before Tao Ning, intercepting the attack. Cen Dianshuang, her movements a blur, met the cultivator’s attack head-on. He was no match for her, sent flying backwards, landing heavily on the ground below.

Cen Dianshuang shielded Tao Ning, her voice cold and sharp. “Anyone else?”

The cultivator, spitting blood, shouted, “See?! The Hanshan Sect is protecting her!”

Tao Ning, her gaze fixed on Cen Dianshuang’s back, whispered, “Master…”

Cen Dianshuang, glancing sideways, her eyes still fixed on the crowd, said softly, “Don’t worry. I won’t let them take you.”

With the first attack launched, more followed, but Lizhu remained defiant.

“I won’t hand her over. And I won’t hand over the cauldron. If you want to cause trouble in the Hanshan Sect, you’ll have to face Nanping first.”

She raised her sword, its blade shimmering, and her disciples followed suit, their combined aura silencing the growing dissent.

Despite her years as Sect Leader, her focus on administrative duties, Lizhu was still a powerful sword cultivator, her cultivation at the peak of Void Refining.

And this was Hanshan Sect territory. Several reclusive Body Integration elders resided within the sect. Provoking the Hanshan Sect was a dangerous gamble.

Unless someone present was more powerful than Lizhu, more senior, more influential.

The Abbot of the Ascending Buddha Sect stood up, chanting a Buddhist prayer. “Sect Leader Lizhu, if you truly believe your disciple is innocent, then sending her to the Cloud Soaring Palace is simply a way to prove it. Actions speak louder than words.”

Lizhu scoffed. “Actions speak louder than words? You’re already accusing us before any investigation. If she leaves, will she ever return? Or will we simply receive a ‘suicide note’ closing the case?”

The Heavenly Heart Sect’s Young Master declared loudly, “You’re projecting your own guilt, Lizhu! Your Hanshan Sect is a haven for demons!”

A Heavenly Heart Sect disciple began, “But she…” He was quickly silenced and dragged away.

The Grand Elder shook his head. “You’re too young to understand. Stay out of this.”

Zhuang Shimei, pulling away from his elder’s grasp, protested, “But without her, I wouldn’t even be here today!”

The Grand Elder shook his head again. “These are the Sect Leader’s orders.”

The clamor continued, their demands unwavering: hand over the demon spy, Tao Ning, and the Wanhun Cauldron.

The Demonic Realm Saintess, hidden among the crowd, slipped away, heading towards the Hanshan Sect’s forbidden grounds.

The Hanshan Sect’s stance was clear: they wouldn’t yield.

Giving in now would only invite further demands.

Tao Ning, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, her expression serious, felt a strange mix of familiarity and something else… she couldn’t quite name.

Someone standing before her, defending her… The feeling was unfamiliar.

520, panicking, its voice echoing in her mind, said, 【What are we going to do?! I should have advised you against this world! It’s too difficult! This is all my fault! I miscalculated the risk! This isn’t a mission for a newbie!】

Its host was only on her second mission, her cultivation still low, a mere Golden Core, far weaker than her true form.

Failing the mission was one thing, but it was genuinely worried about the potential psychological trauma.

Tao Ning: “Don’t worry about me.”

Two voices, spoken simultaneously, unheard by each other, yet echoing the same sentiment.

Cen Dianshuang/520: “How can I not worry?”

Tao Ning: “…”

520, near tears: 【I wish I could afford to upgrade you to your true form!】

Xiao Haoran exchanged a look with Chu Jingtong, who nodded subtly.

Xiao Haoran, having started the fire, now added more fuel. “If Sect Leader Lizhu refuses, there’s another way.”

He held up a mirror. “This is the Cycle Mirror. It reveals one’s true form, exposing all demons and disguised entities.”

He hadn’t mentioned its other function: reversing time.

This demon spy was barely three hundred years old. Reversing her age by two hundred years would reduce her to a newly initiated Qi Refining cultivator. He would finally have his revenge for the stolen artifacts.

And in the ensuing chaos, they would claim the Wanhun Cauldron.

Without waiting for a response, he tossed the mirror into the air, flipping it.

Simultaneously, Chu Jingtong sent a wave of spiritual energy towards the mirror, activating it.

The small, palm-sized mirror expanded rapidly, growing to the size of a person.

Lizhu and the other Hanshan Sect elders paled, Lizhu instinctively raising her sword to destroy the mirror, her reaction only fueling the suspicions of the crowd.

Only those falsely accused knew the true meaning of innocence. But Lizhu’s reaction was unexpected.

Could we be right?

A voice boomed through the arena. “Lizhu! You claim innocence! How do you explain this?!”

Lizhu, her brow furrowed, didn’t answer, Elder Qianlian silently summoning her hammer, Elder Yaodan and the others also drawing their spirit weapons.

They were ready to fight.

The Cycle Mirror’s light intensified, a blinding purple light erupting from the platform, followed by the oppressive aura of a Mahayana cultivator.

Unrestrained, its power sent those with weaker cultivation staggering back, clutching their chests, their faces pale as they hastily activated their protective barriers.

Some were sent flying, coughing up blood.

But no one looked away from the platform, their weapons drawn, their gazes fixed on the figure bathed in light.

Such power… who was this Tao Ning?

“What’s happening?! What did you do to the mirror?!” Chu Jingtong, his dantian aching, now facing centuries of recovery, demanded.

Xiao Haoran, equally stunned, stammered, “I… I don’t know! Isn’t this your… the Beast King’s…?”

As the light faded, the Cycle Mirror, still hovering in mid-air, revealed the true occupants of the platform.

The sight made the onlookers gasp. “How…?”

They had been standing one behind the other, Cen Dianshuang in front, Tao Ning, in her simple green robes, behind her.

Now, their positions were reversed. Cen Dianshuang, in white, stood behind a woman in a magnificent purple robe, her aura powerful and unsettling.

Their hands were still touching, Cen Dianshuang’s resting on her former disciple’s arm, but the texture beneath her fingers wasn’t the worn silver wristband, but smooth, cool silk.

Cen Dianshuang looked up, her gaze fixed on the woman before her, who now towered over her.

“You…”

The same face, yet… different. Older, more mature, the subtle differences creating a vast chasm between the disciple she knew and the woman standing before her now.

Tao Ning, caught off guard, had been focused on concealing Cen Dianshuang’s true form. As a human cultivator, Cen Dianshuang’s reflection would have revealed her demonic nature. Tao Ning, however, wouldn’t be affected.

But the mirror had reversed their ages, transporting them back two hundred years.

She smiled apologetically, the expression strained, forced.

“Sorry. I tried to maintain my younger appearance, but…”

Cen Dianshuang, confused, began, “What…?”

Then, Tao Ning turned, flicking her wrist, and Poheng emerged from her sleeve.

A divine artifact, Poheng was unmatched, its power now fully unleashed by its master’s restored cultivation, capable of shattering mountains.

520, stunned, stared at its status panel. 【Did… did my wish come true?】 It checked its points balance. Unchanged. So the Cycle Mirror… or whatever it is… summoned the Host’s true form without spending any points? What a helpful artifact!

Two hundred years ago, Qingji had been at the peak of Mahayana, unmatched in the three realms. This was bad.

Chu Jingtong, seeing the approaching sword, turned to flee, but managed only a single step before a sharp pain pierced his chest.

Looking down, he saw a sword tip protruding from his dantian, slowly retracting.

No fancy techniques, just brute force, shattering his core, his carefully cultivated demon core cracking, releasing centuries of accumulated energy.

He collapsed, his fall eliciting a chorus of screams.

“That’s… that’s not human!”

The figure lying on the ground wasn’t Chu Jingtong, but a five-tailed fox, its red fur matted with blood.

Xiao Haoran, tripped by a fallen chair, watched in horror as the Chi Fox prince reverted to his true form, then… died.

“Dead…?” He scrambled to his feet, turning to flee.

What’s happening?! This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! The Heavenly Book didn’t mention any of this!

Poheng, however, was faster, catching him, its blade piercing his dantian, pinning him to the ground.

It happened so fast that the others barely registered it, only seeing the body fall face-first onto the ground.

A hand, emerging from a wide sleeve, its fingers long and slender, like polished jade, reached down, gripping the sword hilt, withdrawing the heavy blade, its surface clean, not a trace of blood.

Tao Ning landed gracefully beside the body, Poheng, a heavy, unwieldy weapon, now light as a feather in her hand.

No one saw the flicker of spiritual energy that extinguished Xiao Haoran’s soul, or the small object she retrieved from his spatial pouch.

But no one cared about the two now-silent troublemakers. Their gazes, filled with fear and awe, were fixed on the woman in purple.

The space around her cleared, the onlookers backing away, wishing they could be even further, outside the arena, if possible.

A safe distance.

“Who… who are you, Senior?”

Tao Ning, turning, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, a faint smile playing on her lips, replied, “You’re asking me?”

Lizhu, after all these years, finally recognized the profile, the once-vague memory of a retreating figure now clear, overlapping perfectly with the woman standing before her.

Her legs weakened, and she leaned heavily on Nanping, her voice a trembling whisper. “Grand… Grand Ancestor…?”

Elder Qianlian, standing nearby, overheard her, repeating the word in disbelief. “Grand Ancestor?”

Elder Yaodan, still puzzled by the silent bell, realizing that Chu Jingtong wasn’t who he claimed to be, his eyes widening in sudden understanding, exclaimed, “No way! Grand Ancestor?!”

The whispers spread, reaching the Cloud Soaring Palace delegation.

Ling Huabi nudged Jin Jiamu, who was staring at Tao Ning, her face pale. “Isn’t that your fellow disciple? She seems… different.”

The bloodstains on her lips hadn’t fully faded, but they didn’t diminish her enjoyment of the unfolding drama.

Jin Jiamu, also sporting a bloody lip, stammered, “She… she was my fellow disciple… But now… I don’t know!”

What have I done?! I treated Grand Ancestor Qingji like… a friend! I even called her by her name! Repeatedly!

And I stole her chicken leg…

Jin Jiamu felt her soul leaving her body.

Finally, someone understood the meaning of Lizhu’s words, their face paling as they exclaimed, “Such power! And Sect Leader Lizhu addressed her as Grand Ancestor! There’s only one person with such cultivation: Demon Lord Qingji!”

“What?!”

Tao Ning didn’t deny it, her purple robes shimmering, a smile playing on her lips, but not reaching her eyes.

Cen Dianshuang’s heart pounded in her chest.

She wanted to say something, but her mind was a blank, her thoughts scattered, the world around her blurring, the ground beneath her feet unsteady, as if she were floating on clouds.

Then, she realized it wasn’t just her. The entire Hanshan Sect was shaking.

Just as one crisis ended, another began.

A figure, moving swiftly and silently, landed at the entrance to the forbidden grounds, the swirling mist parting before her.

The Demonic Realm Saintess had come to awaken the Wanhun Cauldron. She carried an artifact imbued with Demon Lord Qingji’s aura.

Qingji, upon abandoning the Refining Fire Palace and leaving the Demonic Realm, had seemingly left nothing behind. The current Demon Lord, however, had eventually found an artifact carrying a trace of her essence.

A jade pendant, once used as the focal point of a spirit gathering formation, its surface smooth and polished, reflecting the light, its simple elegance a stark contrast to the Demonic Realm’s preference for ornate designs.

The Saintess, holding the pendant, which she had carried for some time, was once again struck by its beauty.

Taking a deep breath, she channeled her spiritual energy into the pendant.

The Wanhun Cauldron, sensing its master’s call, despite the heavy guard and the powerful formations, broke free, its escape unstoppable.

The Saintess’s face lit up with triumph. “The Demon Lord was right. This worked!”

She reached out to catch the cauldron, but it flew past her, soaring into the sky.

The Saintess: “…?” What’s happening?

Why did it just… leave?

The Hanshan Sect cultivators, pursuing the cauldron, exchanged bewildered glances with the Saintess. A female cultivator, drawing her sword, demanded, “Who are you? Why are you in our forbidden grounds?”

The Saintess: …Me? Would they believe me if I said I was just passing through?

Back in the arena, the cultivators turned towards the mountain gate.

The tremors weren’t coming from the forbidden grounds, but from the gate itself. Someone was attacking the protective formation.

A small cauldron appeared in the sky, and someone pointed, shouting, “What is that?!”

Emerging from within the Hanshan Sect, its appearance unmistakable, its aura radiating power… it was the Wanhun Cauldron, answering its master’s call, breaking through the formations, flying towards her.

Amidst the stunned silence, the cauldron landed gently in Tao Ning’s hand, the long-lost artifact reunited with its master, Demon Lord Qingji.

Not only were their plans ruined, but their lives were now in danger.

She was Demon Lord Qingji. Devouring a few hundred cultivators to replenish her strength wouldn’t be unusual.

Tao Ning, after a moment, soothed the cauldron’s agitated spirit, then tucked it into her sleeve.

She looked at the assembled cultivators, her hands spread wide, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I intended to leave the Wanhun Cauldron sealed away in the Hanshan Sect’s forbidden grounds. But now… I doubt it will stay put, don’t you agree?”

Something even more terrifying than the return of Demon Lord Qingji had just happened. The Wanhun Cauldron had returned to its master.

The cultivators: “…”

Her seemingly lighthearted words sent shivers down their spines, their hearts pounding with fear.

They were trapped.

A disciple, his face pale, rushed into the arena, bowing deeply. “Sect… Sect Leader! The Demonic Realm is attacking!”

Lizhu, ignoring her trembling legs, stood up, drawing her sword. “Who is it?”

Before the disciple could answer, a booming laugh echoed from above.

A man in black armor, riding a massive dragon, hovered above the mountain gate, his voice echoing through the Hanshan Sect. “Hand over the Wanhun Cauldron, and I’ll grant you a swift death.”

The cultivators instantly recognized him.

“Demon Lord Tu Ming?! What’s he doing here?!”

“Is there something wrong with the Hanshan Sect’s feng shui? Why do they attract so many demons?”

“Are you insane?! Demon Lord Qingji is right here!”

“The former Demon Lord and the current Demon Lord… If Qingji is unleashed…!” Before he could finish, he was sent flying, his body crashing against a nearby platform.

The two disciples sparring on the platform quickly jumped down, not daring to stand higher than Qingji.

The earlier clamor died down. Those who had dared to disrespect the Demon Lord had learned their lesson.

Tu Ming had come prepared. His followers were attacking the protective formation, their combined power weakening it.

The formation’s power had been reduced for the disciple competition, creating an opportunity for the invaders.

Enemies at the gate, a demon lord within… what were they supposed to do?

Tao Ning, once again the center of attention, said casually, “Carry on. You can ignore me.”

The cultivators: …Easy for you to say.

Lizhu raised Nanping, her voice ringing with authority. “The Demonic Realm is attacking! We must unite and defend our home!”

Since Lizhu was willing to overlook the current situation and focus on the external threat, they readily agreed, collectively ignoring the Demon Lord standing beside them, following Lizhu towards the mountain gate.

The arena emptied quickly, though a few remained.

Tao Ning, stepping over the bodies, descended the platform, her movements unhurried, her gaze fixed on Cen Dianshuang.

The figure approaching, tall and elegant, her black hair flowing like a dark cloud, her purple robes shimmering, Poheng held loosely in her hand, was familiar. Her face, her walk, her weapon… Yet, Cen Dianshuang felt a sense of distance… a coldness she hadn’t sensed before.

Tao Ning stopped before the platform, extending her hand, her voice soft, her eyes filled with something Cen Dianshuang couldn’t quite decipher. “Coming?”

Cen Dianshuang began, “You…”

Tao Ning’s expression softened, a hint of regret in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have deceived you. I never imagined it would come to this. But my feelings are real. I truly… care for you.”

Cen Dianshuang: “…”

Tao Ning’s hand remained outstretched. Cen Dianshuang, instead of taking it, jumped down from the platform, instantly regretting her impulsive action.

Facing the legendary Demon Lord, her legs weakened, and she stumbled, caught by Tao Ning’s quick reflexes.

Tao Ning’s voice was filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Cen Dianshuang, her head spinning, pulled away, shaking her head. “I’m fine. I can stand. I just need a moment.”

This was all too much, too overwhelming.

Tao Ning, her hand retracting, her eyes downcast, her expression suggesting “hurt” didn’t offer excuses or reassurances.

She simply stood there, waiting, accepting whatever came next.

Cen Dianshuang watched her like this, and something unfamiliar twisted in her chest

Love was a difficult emotion to control. Even if silenced, it found other ways to express itself, a flicker in the eyes, a softening of the gaze.

Tao Ning turned and walked away, her back radiating loneliness.

Cen Dianshuang called out instinctively, “Where are you going?”

Tao Ning stopped, turning back, her expression innocent. “To kill Tu Ming. He’s attacking our sect.”

Cen Dianshuang: “…”

Her mind, still reeling from the recent revelations, had almost forgotten the demon lord at their doorstep.

Chapter 74: Disciple and Wife p2

Countless cultivators shared the surname Chu, but only one clan used “Chu clan” as their official title: the renowned alchemy family from Gongzhou, located on the borders of the Radiant Realm.

Someone recognized him as the Chu Clan Head’s most prized disciple.

Chu Jingtong didn’t deny it, smiling and nodding. “Indeed. That’s me.”

He was known for his wanderlust, his unconventional nature. No one expected him to appear at the Hanshan Sect, causing trouble.

Lizhu’s expression hardened. “What’s the meaning of this, Fellow Cultivator Chu? Disrupting our competition?”

Cen Dianshuang’s face also turned cold, though the change was subtle, her usual demeanor already icy and aloof.

Only Elder Qianlian, sitting beside her, noticed Cen Dianshuang’s hand tightening on her sword hilt, Xuan Ying’s blade partially unsheathed.

She understood. This was directed at her disciple.

Chu Jingtong, his hands waving incessantly, as if embarrassed by the attention, said, “No, no, I’m simply offering a friendly warning. You have a spy from the Demonic Realm in your midst.”

His words were like a thunderclap, silencing the crowd, their expressions turning to shock and disbelief.

“A spy from the Demonic Realm? Impossible!”

“A demon in the Hanshan Sect?”

All eyes turned to Chu Jingtong, waiting for him to reveal the spy’s identity.

Only two people ignored him, their gazes fixed on the hooded figure beside him.

Tao Ning and the Demonic Realm Saintess, having infiltrated the Hanshan Sect again with a new disguise.

They shared the same thought: Xiao Haoran is surprisingly resilient.

Cultivation, whether of the spiritual or demonic path, was simply a method of achieving power. Spiritual cultivation emphasized a steady, controlled approach, a pure heart. Demonic cultivation, however, prioritized rapid advancement, often at the expense of morality, its practitioners feared for their ruthlessness.

And a demon within the ranks of the leading sect was a cause for concern.

Chu Jingtong, basking in the attention, raised his hands, silencing the murmurs. “Please, allow me to explain.”

His voice rose, carrying across the training grounds. “I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors. I won’t repeat them. Demon Lord Qingji’s Wanhun Cauldron is here, at the Hanshan Sect. Those demonic cultivators are restless, seeking to reclaim it, to reunite the Demonic Realm, and unleash chaos upon the world.”

Lizhu, who had known this wouldn’t be a peaceful day, sneered. “Baseless accusations. The Hanshan Sect’s affairs are none of your concern. Summon your master.”

Chu Jingtong: “Why so angry, Sect Leader? I’m simply offering a friendly warning. You have a demon in your midst, plotting to steal the cauldron. If they succeed, the consequences will be dire for the entire Radiant Realm. Why be so stubborn?”

Whether Lizhu acknowledged it or not, he had declared the cauldron’s presence within the sect, his feigned concern for the Radiant Realm unconvincing.

But that wasn’t important. What mattered was retrieving the cauldron.

His words found support among the crowd, their voices urging Lizhu to hand over the cauldron, to allow the other sects to seal it away.

Such a burden shouldn’t be shouldered by the Hanshan Sect alone. They wanted to help.

Their voices, a buzzing cacophony, surrounded Tao Ning, who stood at the center of the growing storm, her gaze sweeping over the assembled cultivators.

Sect Leaders, Clan Heads, all connected by a web of power and influence.

She was reminded of a bustling marketplace, its crowds of people, young and old, their voices a chaotic mix of shouts and whispers.

The only difference was the absence of clucking chickens and quacking ducks.

Humans were all the same, echoing each other’s words, seeking validation and approval.

They turned to Lizhu, their gazes expectant, waiting for her response.

Even if she refused, they would find a way. She couldn’t protect the Hanshan Sect forever.

Lizhu summoned Nanping, her spirit sword, its blade glowing with a fiery red aura. “What if I refuse?”

Nanping, the “Pacifier of Chaos,” rarely left its sheath, its appearance always a harbinger of bloodshed.

Another cultivator stood up, his voice echoing through the arena. “Will the Hanshan Sect harbor a demon? Protect a spy?”

His words resonated with the crowd, their voices rising in agreement.

An elderly cultivator, his white hair flowing around him, chuckled, his voice laced with disdain. “This isn’t surprising, considering the Hanshan Sect’s history of harboring demonic cultivators. The infamous Qingji herself was a Hanshan Sect disciple, later joining the Demonic Realm, serving Patriarch Wanhun. As far as I know, she hasn’t even been expelled from the sect.”

Basking in the shocked silence, he continued, his gaze sharp and piercing. “Surely, the Hanshan Sect won’t deny this?”

Lizhu sneered. “Perhaps you should focus on your own grand-disciple, who eloped with a demoness, instead of meddling in our affairs.”

The elder’s face darkened, his earlier bravado fading. He let out a disgruntled humph, unable to retort.

No one had made a move yet, unwilling to be the first.

“That vile demon was a Hanshan Sect disciple?!”

“You’re just finding out now? My ancestor told me stories about her. Those who knew the truth are either in seclusion or dead. It seems the secret has been well-kept.”

“A rotten tree bears rotten fruit. Even the most esteemed sects have their flaws.”

“Who knows how many other demons are hiding within the Hanshan Sect?”

“For the safety of the Radiant Realm, Sect Leader Lizhu, hand over the Wanhun Cauldron.”

Chu Jingtong, seeing his plan succeed, smiled inwardly.

A female cultivator’s voice rang out, cutting through the noise. “Fellow Cultivator Chu, you claim there’s a Demonic Realm spy within the Hanshan Sect. What proof do you have?”

It was True Person Chang Xiang of the Heavenly Heart Sect.

Ignoring the disapproving look from her own Sect Leader, she continued, her voice calm but firm. “Innocence doesn’t require proof. But if you insist the cauldron isn’t safe at the Hanshan Sect, then at least tell us who this spy is.”

Chu Jingtong smiled faintly. “I heard your disciple was rescued by a Hanshan Sect cultivator, who also helped recover your last disciple’s remains. You owe them a debt of gratitude.”

True Person Chang Xiang, seated at her table, placed a reassuring hand on Pang Xueting’s shoulder, the girl’s face flushed with anger.

Her expression remained calm. “I repay kindness. That’s my principle. But that doesn’t change the fact that I want to know if your accusations are true.”

Chu Jingtong: “You misunderstand, True Person Chang Xiang. I’m simply concerned that you’ve misplaced your trust. Your deceased disciple deserves justice.”

True Person Chang Xiang ignored his attempt to deflect, her gaze fixed on him, her message clear: Get to the point.

Chu Jingtong sighed dramatically. “My friend was attacked by a Hanshan Sect spy. He barely escaped with his life. I advised him to let it go, but…” He turned to the hooded figure beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Brother Xiao?”

The hood was pulled back, revealing Xiao Haoran’s pale, gaunt face. His dantian was shattered, his meridians damaged. If not for Chi Xiaxia’s sacrifice, losing two tails, he wouldn’t have recovered so quickly.

Not only had this imposter tried to kill him, but she had also stolen his destiny. He should be the one standing there, a respected member of the Hanshan Sect.

During his recovery, the Chi Fox King had informed him that his spies in the Demonic Realm had located the Saintess. She was at the Hanshan Sect, tasked with retrieving the Wanhun Cauldron. On the day of the disciple competition, the Demon Lord would attack, the Saintess acting as an inside agent, opening the gates for him, allowing him to reclaim his treasure.

The current situation was a result of Cen Dianshuang’s unexpected early return from seclusion, forcing Tao Ning to hand over the cauldron, temporarily entrusting it to the Hanshan Sect.

She had tried to kill him to silence him, to claim the cauldron for herself.

He wouldn’t allow this imposter to steal his destiny. He would claim the cauldron before the Demon Lord arrived.

He glared at the figure on the stage, pointing accusingly. “She’s the one who attacked me! Tao Ning!”

“Tao Ning, first disciple of Cen Dianshuang, Peak Master of Wangshu Peak.”

The accusation was beyond anything they had anticipated. Gongye Miao, defeated but still present, turned to look at Tao Ning.

Tao Ning, standing calmly amidst the shocked silence, even smiled faintly.

“…?”

Her aura was pure, untainted. A Lightning spiritual root… Sending someone like this to infiltrate the Radiant Realm? Were the demons insane?

Cen Dianshuang’s hand tightened on her sword hilt, but Tao Ning’s voice, a secret transmission, reached her ears. Don’t move, Master.

What is she doing?

Elder Qianlian, unable to contain herself any longer, slammed her hand on the table, standing up abruptly. “You accuse a Hanshan Sect disciple of being a demon spy based on a single, unsubstantiated claim? Then I can accuse you of poisoning my disciples with your useless pills and demand compensation! Will you pay?”

Elder Yaodan, however, retrieved a silver bell from his sleeve, shaking it gently.

As an alchemist, he had connections with many other alchemists, including the Gongzhou Chu clan, having exchanged communication bells with them.

The bell remained silent, and he frowned, scratching his cheek, a suspicion forming in his mind.

Xiao Haoran, seizing the opportunity, revealed the “secrets” he had learned from the Beast King. “The Demonic Realm has a secret technique to cultivate dual-natured cultivators, capable of wielding both spiritual and demonic energy. The Demonic Saintess was trained using this method. She was sent by the Demon Lord to infiltrate the Hanshan Sect. She even killed a Hanshan Sect disciple in Shadow City, Er Lan of Alchemy Peak, to silence her.”

Er Lan, standing among the crowd, her true identity suddenly revealed: …If Tao Ning is the Saintess, then who am I?

Chapter 74: Disciple and Wife p1

In the forbidden grounds of the Hanshan Sect, the peak masters and elders gathered, their expressions grim, their gazes fixed on Sect Leader Lizhu.

“Thank you all for coming. Let’s begin.”

The cultivators simultaneously began forming a complex formation, Lizhu at its center, acting as the focal point.

A vast network of shimmering, crimson runes, like flowing blood, materialized in the air, slowly descending.

For months, the Sect Leader and the peak masters had been working on this suppression formation, the Nine Layers Demon Subduing Array. Eight layers were complete. This was the final one.

Once activated, it would seal the volatile artifact, preventing its emergence.

The cultivators, hovering in mid-air, their hands forming intricate gestures, channeled their spiritual energy into the formation.

Those on the ground mirrored their movements, adding their own power.

The small cauldron at the center trembled violently, resisting the descending formation, its aura flaring.

It had tolerated the previous eight layers, treating them as a game, easily breaking free.

Now, realizing their true intentions, it wouldn’t be so easily subdued.

They were, after all, too weak.

A surge of dark grey energy erupted from the cauldron, its size increasing exponentially, its shadow falling over the assembled cultivators.

The force of the Wanhun Cauldron’s aura sent several cultivators tumbling from the sky, landing heavily on the ground.

“Is everyone alright?” Lizhu asked, her voice filled with concern.

“We’re fine, Sect Leader,” they replied in unison.

The cauldron’s aura pulsed, its power now undeniable, making them hesitate.

Elder Qianlian’s expression was grim. “The first eight layers were so easy, but the ninth… There’s something wrong.”

Cen Dianshuang agreed. “It has developed a spirit. This won’t be easy.”

The cauldron, surrounded by the formation, bobbed up and down.

If not for its master’s instructions, its spirit would have devoured these cultivators who dared to imprison it.

Lizhu, her usual casual demeanor replaced by an air of authority, said, “This isn’t working… The competition starts tomorrow. Too many eyes, too many rumors…” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Sect Leader, if we fail today, it will be difficult to contain it later.”

“Those rumors… they’re targeting our Hanshan Sect. I’ve traced them back to the Demonic Beast Realm.”

“But the Demonic Beast Realm and the Radiant Realm are separate. Why would they interfere?”

“The current Beast King is ambitious. He covets the Radiant Realm’s abundant spiritual energy. He’s trying to provoke a conflict.”

“I’ve noticed the Demonic Realm’s increased activity as well… Junior Sister Cen, look out!”

The cauldron, tired of being confined, lunged towards… Cen Dianshuang.

It had sensed its master’s aura on her, its curiosity piqued.

Why does she smell so strongly of Master? I must investigate.

Cen Dianshuang, summoning Xuan Ying, intercepted its advance, her sword’s light forcing it back.

Lizhu rushed to her side, her voice filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Cen Dianshuang, her brow furrowed, shook her head, looking at Lizhu with confusion. “I’m fine. It didn’t seem like an attack.”

Just as she said this, a burst of energy struck her shoulder, the impact like a small stone, not painful, but… deliberate.

Lizhu shielded her, the cultivators staring at the cauldron, their expressions a mix of fear and confusion.

The cauldron’s aura pulsed again, then subsided, the earlier attack seemingly a hallucination.

The cauldron’s spirit, however, was thinking, Why are you so aggressive? I just wanted to ask if you knew where my master was!

The spirit’s thoughts echoed in Tao Ning’s mind, like a child’s frustrated whining.

Her head throbbed, assaulted by the cauldron’s complaints on one side and 520’s incessant questions about the song on the other.

Receiving no response from its master, the cauldron’s aura intensified, its desire to be released echoing through the mountains, its cries directed solely at Tao Ning, careful not to disturb the others, heeding its master’s instructions.

Tao Ning, pressing her fingers to her temples, her face a mask of long-suffering patience, muttered, “I understand now.”

520, unsure what profound realization its host had just achieved, but ever the supportive companion, asked, 【What do you understand?】

Tao Ning’s voice was heavy with the weight of newfound wisdom. “Never lie. Early childhood education is crucial. Foster independence. Don’t resist sending your children to boarding school.”

520: 【???】 What does that have to do with anything? It checked the song title again. It was a love song. When did we switch to parenting advice?

---

The next day, the disciple competition began, the aspiring cultivators eager to prove themselves.

The first day, usually a low-key affair, with mostly younger disciples competing, was surprisingly crowded.

The Hanshan Sect’s training grounds were filled with cultivators from various sects.

Dozens of platforms had been set up, each overseen by a Hanshan Sect judge.

The competition was divided into three divisions: Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, and Golden Core. Participants faced each other in single combat, the winners advancing to the next round until a champion was declared.

Held every hundred years, the competition also determined the rankings for the Heavenly Pride Ranking, a list no cultivator could resist.

This year’s ranking was being compiled by the Cloud Soaring Palace’s Young Mistress, their sect renowned for its impartiality, their disciples, while not necessarily powerful warriors, known for their unwavering objectivity.

With the Palace Mistress in seclusion, the Young Mistress, dressed in flowing purple robes, her face veiled in white silk, only her eyes visible, attracting admiring glances, led the delegation.

Her spirit weapon was unusual: a scroll, the Spirit Jade Tablet.

She was often seen writing, recording everything she observed, and in battle, the characters on the unfurled scroll would come alive, attacking her opponents.

“The Young Mistress of the Cloud Soaring Palace has arrived!” A wave of white silk, like a floating cloud, appeared, and the purple-clad figure, stepping onto it, landed gracefully on the viewing platform, her arrival as ethereal as a celestial being’s.

The other Cloud Soaring Palace disciples, their faces uncovered, their spirit weapons mostly bells or flowing red ribbons, followed.

Cultivators were rarely unattractive, and their appearance was met with appreciation, not criticism.

The arrival of the sect leaders and family heads was even more extravagant, each trying to outdo the other, their appearances delayed for dramatic effect, their presence greeted with respect and awe.

It wasn’t just the disciples competing today. It seemed the elders were also vying for attention.

Lizhu, as the host, appeared last, her robes flowing and majestic, her expression betraying no hint of yesterday’s setback.

Her priority was the competition, ensuring its smooth execution and the departure of the guests. The Wanhun Cauldron remained sealed in the forbidden grounds, under the watchful eyes of several elders.

While they were all puzzled by the cauldron’s fluctuating aura and its inability to be fully contained, they had no other choice.

After a brief welcoming speech, the competition began.

Tao Ning’s turn came early. Standing on the platform, she felt a twinge of regret at not being able to speak to Cen Dianshuang.

Another cultivator, dressed in black, jumped onto the platform, and they bowed to each other.

“Gongye Miao of the Asking Gods Sect.”

“Tao Ning of the Hanshan Sect.”

No need for boasts or threats. The judge signaled the start of the match, and they drew their weapons.

Jin Jiamu’s turn was later. Descending from the viewing platform, intending to watch Tao Ning’s match from a closer vantage point, she felt a gaze on her, subtle but persistent, as she passed by the Cloud Soaring Palace delegation.

Never one for subtlety, she turned, meeting the gaze directly.

Ling Huabi, the Young Mistress, her hand resting on her scroll, the other holding a brush, looked away.

Jin Jiamu: …Seriously? She’s still holding a grudge? It had been just a veil. She’s acting like I ripped her clothes off. I shouldn’t have helped her.

She continued her descent, eager to watch Tao Ning fight. A friend’s support was essential.

Ling Huabi, seeing her leave, let out a soft humph, marking a small “x” on the turtle she had been drawing on her Spirit Jade Tablet.

Still annoyed, she called out, “Fellow Cultivator Jin.”

Tao Ning, unaware that Ling Huabi’s veil had already been removed in this timeline, disarmed her opponent with a swift flick of her wrist, then, with a palm strike to his shoulder, sent him tumbling off the platform.

The Asking Gods Sect disciple, staggering back, looked stunned. Defeated in five moves?

The judge announced, “Tao Ning of the Hanshan Sect wins!”

Jin Jiamu, hearing the announcement, stopped, turning back to address Ling Huabi. “What can I do for you, Young Mistress?”

Ling Huabi was about to respond when a loud, mocking laugh echoed through the arena, amplified by spiritual energy, reaching every ear.

Gongye Miao, his face dark with anger, turned towards the source of the laughter. “The match is over. I lost. What’s so funny?” He raised his sword, its tip pointed at the laughing cultivator. “I challenge you! Let’s see how skilled you are!”

The man, seated among the rogue cultivators, finally stopped laughing, waving a hand dismissively. “No, no, I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the Hanshan Sect. So… blind.”

Gongye Miao glared at him. Are you mocking me?

The man’s words caused a stir.

Lizhu, her voice cold, demanded, “Which sect are you from? Identify yourself!”

The man, his face pleasant, his demeanor that of a gentle scholar, his words, however, anything but gentle, stood up, bowing to the assembled cultivators.

“I’m but a humble rogue cultivator, my name unknown. Chu Jingtong, of the Chu clan.”

Chapter 73: Disciple and Wife

“Where is Elder Chang Xiang?”

The Heavenly Heart Sect elder in charge of the disciples looked around, then called for Elder Chang Xiang.

Before leaving, Elder Chang Xiang handed Pang Xueting several talismans. “It’s crowded here. Keep these safe. Don’t be ostentatious.”

Pang Xueting accepted them obediently. “Yes, Master. I won’t use them unless absolutely necessary.”

Elder Chang Xiang patted her head, smiling faintly. “Good.”

The Hanshan Sect was bustling with visitors. Pang Xueting, heeding her master’s instructions, stayed with her fellow disciples.

Seeing Pang Xueting, Tu Shimei and a few others approached.

Besides Pang Xueting, Tu Shimei and Zhuang Shimei, who had barely made the cut, had also qualified for the competition.

Zhuang Shimei wasn’t interested in winning. He was simply there for the experience, having trained relentlessly just to make it onto the list.

Tu Shimei: “Where have you been? I was looking for you.”

Pang Xueting smiled, but before she could answer, another voice interrupted. “Weren’t you going to try and cozy up to Elder Cen? Back so soon? Did she throw you out?”

The Heavenly Heart Sect disciples surrounding the young man in yellow laughed.

Pang Xueting frowned. “When did I say I was going to ‘cozy up’ to anyone?”

The young man, their sect’s Young Master, shrugged, his arms crossed. “Fine, you didn’t say it. I won’t argue with a woman.”

Pang Xueting’s frown deepened. “But we did argue. And you lost.”

The mention of their previous encounter brought a wave of awkward silence.

The Young Master’s face flushed, a mix of anger, embarrassment, and… fear.

He sneered. “You dare bring that up?”

Pang Xueting, her voice calm, replied, “I have nothing to be ashamed of. Why wouldn’t I bring it up?”

The Heavenly Heart Sect specialized in sword cultivation, but the Young Master preferred beast taming, having become the disciple of a reclusive Grand Elder specializing in that field. His talent, however, had inflated his ego, his behavior becoming increasingly arrogant and unrestrained.

His father’s reprimands had no effect, so he had been left to his own devices, until he encountered Pang Xueting.

During the sect’s annual competition, where all disciples were assessed, the Young Master, eager to prove his superiority, had manipulated the draw to face Elder Chang Xiang’s first disciple.

He had assumed Talisman Cultivators were weak and ineffectual, their days spent drawing symbols and contemplating nature.

But Pang Xueting, facing a giant tiger about to bite her in half, had calmly drawn a high-level Explosive Talisman, its power exceeding her current realm, obliterating the spirit beast.

While his defeat in the competition hadn’t been a major issue, his arrogant attempt to assert his dominance, followed by the backlash from the exploding spirit beast, which had sent him tumbling headfirst off the stage, covered in dirt, two teeth knocked out, had been humiliating.

He had known he would lose, but not so spectacularly.

The incident had created a lasting resentment.

Zhuang Shimei, remembering the scene, chuckled, covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Sorry, I just remembered something funny. Someone… falling face-first into the dirt.”

Tu Shimei, also struggling to contain her amusement, giggled. “Sorry, I was also thinking about something funny.”

“You… you dare mock me?!” The Young Master pointed at them, his face red with anger.

A loud explosion, followed by a beast’s roar and the clang of swords, echoed from nearby.

The commotion drew the attention of a passing group of cultivators.

The woman leading the group, dressed in a red inner robe and a blue outer robe, turned, her brow furrowing slightly. “What was that?”

Another female cultivator, glancing towards the source of the noise, said, “Senior Sister Jin, that’s the Hanhai Courtyard. The Heavenly Heart Sect’s lodgings.”

“Heavenly Heart Sect? Sounds familiar.” The woman, addressed as Senior Sister Jin, bowed politely to the other cultivators. “Excuse me, fellow cultivators.”

She adjusted her grip on her sword hilt, walking towards the commotion, her companion hurrying after her, her voice low and urgent. “Senior Sister Jin, please don’t be impulsive.”

Senior Sister Jin smiled, her expression calm and polite. “Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass Qianqi Peak.”

Then, her jaw tightening, she muttered, “I just want to see who’s destroying the house I just repaired.”

Repairing buildings wasn’t normally Qianqi Peak’s responsibility. It was handled by the outer sect disciples under the Affairs Hall. But with the increased number of visitors this year, the usual accommodations weren’t enough, requiring another peak to be prepared.

The Affairs Hall, overwhelmed, had requested assistance from Qianqi Peak. And this particular courtyard had been Jin Jiamu’s project.

As long as she’s not planning to set it on fire… The younger disciple’s relief was short-lived as she watched Senior Sister Jin kick open the door.

“Who’s demolishing the house Qianqi Peak just repaired?!”

The chaotic scene within froze, a single sentence hanging in the air: “See? No one’s coming to save you! Why don’t you call for your Senior Tao?”

All eyes turned to the woman standing in the doorway. Seeing her Hanshan Sect disciple uniform, their faces paled.

“You know Tao Ning?” Jin Jiamu’s gaze fixed on a young, female Talisman Cultivator holding a brush, who, startled by the sudden attention, nodded hesitantly.

Jin Jiamu sneered. “I’m not a scholar. I prefer hammers. But I remember what my master always says: treat your guests with respect, and they’ll respect you in return.” She pointed at the damaged roof. “The competition starts tomorrow. I expect to see this roof repaired by sunset. Understood?”

The Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, realizing they were in the wrong, nodded quickly.

Jin Jiamu nodded back, her voice now calm and pleasant. “Good. Let’s all be civilized. If you want to spar, we have designated training grounds. We even provide waivers. I’ll write them myself.”

The Heavenly Heart Sect disciples: …That’s… not necessary.

Jin Jiamu, her smile still unnervingly pleasant, beckoned to Pang Xueting. “May I have your name, fellow cultivator?”

Pang Xueting, putting away her brush, approached hesitantly. “Pang Xueting, disciple of True Person Chang Xiang.”

Jin Jiamu: “Jin Jiamu, disciple of True Person Qianlian of Qianqi Peak. I haven’t chosen a title yet. Call me whatever you like.”

Not only a Hanshan Sect disciple, but a direct disciple of Qianqi Peak… Even more formidable than I thought.

Pang Xueting bowed respectfully. “Senior Jin.”

Jin Jiamu smiled, gesturing towards the door. “Let’s go.”

As Pang Xueting was led away, the Heavenly Heart Sect Young Master sneered, “Let’s see how long you can maintain that smug look!”

He followed them, forgetting to ask why. Pang Xueting, realizing this on the way, asked, “Why did you call for me, Senior Jin?”

Jin Jiamu: “You’re looking for Tao Ning, right? I’m also looking for her. I want to ask her why she abandoned me.”

After emerging from seclusion, having achieved Golden Core, she had been subjected to a relentless interrogation by both her master and the Sect Leader, a terrifying experience for a newly minted Golden Core cultivator.

Her mind reeling, she had confessed everything, admitting her inadequacy, her inability to craft divine artifacts.

Please stop asking! I’m just… unskilled. She had learned the term “unskilled” from Tao Ning.

But what had truly stung was Tao Ning’s calm, dismissive, “Unskilled? Then practice more.”

Those four words had become her new mantra, surprisingly effective in silencing her fellow disciples. It had spread quickly, becoming a common refrain throughout the Hanshan Sect.

Even the Shuhan Peak sword fanatics had adopted it. Hopefully, they wouldn’t use it on the visiting disciples during the competition.

I’ll deal with her later. After I find her, I’ll make her pay for leaving me alone for forty years! Jin Jiamu’s fists clenched.

Pang Xueting, however, was struggling to process the information.

Outwardly calm, her mind was screaming, the words echoing in her ears.

What did I just hear?

Are all Hanshan Sect disciples so… unconventional?

I hope I survive this visit.

Jin Jiamu, turning back, beckoned to Pang Xueting. “Are you coming?”

With a sense of impending doom, Pang Xueting followed.

They found Tao Ning easily, studying the competition brackets.

Jin Jiamu approached, reaching out to pat Tao Ning’s shoulder. Pang Xueting, her heart pounding, wasn’t sure if she should intervene.

“Senior J…”

Tao Ning, without turning, grabbed Jin Jiamu’s wrist, then, seeing who it was, her frown relaxing slightly. “It’s you.”

Jin Jiamu smiled brightly. “Your furnace tender.”

Tao Ning: “…”

Tao Ning’s face paled slightly, sensing a… debt collection… in the making. A thousand years of scheming, and I’m finally caught.

She forced a smile. “What a coincidence. Are you also here for the brackets?”

Seeing her like this, Jin Jiamu couldn’t bring herself to be angry.

Tao Ning’s guidance had helped her achieve Golden Core. She was practically her teacher, deserving of respect.

Her initial anger dissipated. Shaking her head, she said, “You left so suddenly. I didn’t get to thank you properly for helping me reach Golden Core.”

Tao Ning waved a hand dismissively. “No need for thanks. I’m just checking the brackets. I’m facing a disciple from the Asking Gods Sect tomorrow. Who’s your opponent?”

Jin Jiamu’s face fell. “I’m so unlucky. I’m facing someone from the Long Blade Sect. They’re all… battle-crazed, like Shuhan Peak. We artifact refiners have it rough. Not only do we have to fight, but we also have to repair our own equipment afterwards.”

Tao Ning: “Your cultivation seems stable. You must be confident. I believe in you.”

Too much encouragement, however, could be… unsettling. Jin Jiamu now dreaded hearing those words from Tao Ning.

It wasn’t “I believe in you,” but “I’m about to set you up.”

She waved her hands frantically. “No, no, you don’t have to believe in me.”

Tao Ning, knowing this meant the issue was settled, noticed Pang Xueting’s anxious, then confused, expression.

Smiling politely, she said, “It’s good to see you again, Miss Pang.”

Pang Xueting’s gaze, darting between Tao Ning and Jin Jiamu, settled on Tao Ning, her cheeks flushing slightly. “S-Senior Tao… Yes…”

This wasn’t what she had expected.

She had overthought the situation, misunderstanding the Hanshan Sect’s… unique… approach to relationships.

A question mark slowly formed above Tao Ning’s head as she looked at Jin Jiamu, her eyes asking, What did you do to her?

Jin Jiamu’s eyes widened innocently. Nothing!

Their silent exchange was inconclusive.

Jin Jiamu, suddenly remembered, was dragged away to assist with the competition preparations. Even Elder Cen was called away, leaving Tao Ning, fresh from seclusion, with nothing to do.

Once they were alone, Tao Ning turned to Pang Xueting. “Miss Pang, is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Her hesitation exposed, Pang Xueting admitted, “Yes, there is.”

As a mere disciple, her master, True Person Chang Xiang, only a guest elder, her knowledge was limited, but she shared everything she knew.

Tao Ning listened, her expression unreadable.

“Thank you for telling me. But don’t worry about me. Focus on protecting yourself.”

Pang Xueting, though reassured, still seemed troubled. “I don’t understand these rumors. They say whoever possesses the Wanhun Cauldron will control the three realms, that it contains the life essence of some ancient ancestor, granting instant ascension. That’s… absurd.”

“Indeed, they are,” Tao Ning replied, not surprised by the rumors, having a general idea of their source.

They were similar to the events described in the original storyline.

However, back then, the person who obtained the cauldron had been from the Hanshan Sect. And with the disciple competition being hosted by the Hanshan Sect, most of the influential cultivators were present, leading to accusations and scrutiny, threatening the sect’s reputation.

The world was driven by greed.

Only a divine artifact, or the downfall of the leading sect, could unite them.

If they couldn’t obtain the treasure, weakening the Hanshan Sect was the next best thing.

After bidding farewell to Pang Xueting, Tao Ning intended to find Cen Dianshuang, but learned she was busy with the competition preparations.

Tao Ning sighed in disappointment, thanking the Shuhan Peak disciple who had relayed the message.

“No need for thanks,” the disciple replied, returning to his work.

With the Sect Leader away, the disciples had to manage the sect’s affairs.

520, seeing its host staring wistfully at the sky, her hopeless romantic tendencies intensifying, decided to offer some comfort.

【What are you thinking about?】

Tao Ning, her voice calm, replied, “Praying.”

The Wanhun Cauldron’s spirit was constantly whining, demanding to be released. It wasn’t having fun.

She knew where Cen Dianshuang was, but it was a place she couldn’t go… yet.

520, surprised by this unexpected piety, was intrigued. 【Praying for what?】

Tao Ning, after a moment of thought, replied, “For love.”

If she revealed her true identity now, claiming her rightful place as their ancestor, it would create… complications.

520: 【Oh! I get it! You want to listen to music! I’ll spend some points and play a song for you.】

A sweet, melodious female voice echoed in Tao Ning’s mind.

“Because of love… we don’t easily grieve…”

Tao Ning: “…”

520, after the song ended, asked eagerly, 【How was it?】

Chapter 72: Disciple and Wife

A figure sat in the icy cave, a snow-white bird nestled in her lap, her expression calm and serene.

Internally, however, a torrent of squeeing threatened to erupt.

Such trust, to rest its head against her hand in its most vulnerable form, its neck and head exposed, its very life force within easy reach.

Tao Ning, touching the Shangxi bird for the first time, her movements hesitant and gentle, carefully placed her other hand on its back, stroking its soft, downy feathers.

The sensation was even better than she had imagined, soft and warm, making her touch even lighter, as if afraid of melting it… forgetting it was a Soul Transformation bird, a powerful creature capable of carrying the moon on its back.

Her reverence, tinged with an almost childlike wonder, brought a smile to the Shangxi bird’s eyes.

Once the touching began, it became a nightly ritual. Tao Ning spent her evenings in the Ice Cavern… bird-sitting.

Without any prompting from Tao Ning, the Shangxi bird, after consuming its daily offering of snacks, would hop into her lap, settling down, its head resting on her arm, its eyes closed.

Soul Transformation cultivators didn’t require sleep, but Cen Dianshuang’s duties, assigned by her senior sister, kept her busy, leaving little time for cultivation. Tao Ning’s lap offered a quiet sanctuary, a warm, comfortable place to replenish her spiritual energy.

She hadn’t realized the benefits of this arrangement before: a warm, furry heating pad, and… petting.

No matter how many times it happened, Tao Ning’s touch remained gentle and hesitant, as if handling a fragile object.

The Shangxi bird, its initial concerns about feather dust forgotten, relaxed completely.

Tao Ning, her hand stroking the bird’s back, checked her communication bell for messages, then replied.

These moments always felt strange to the Shangxi bird.

Tao Ning’s voice, sweet and affectionate as she addressed her master, complaining about the cold and the silence of the Ice Cavern, while the very person she was talking to was nestled in her arms.

What was even stranger was that Cen Dianshuang would then have to listen to the message again and respond.

But she couldn’t relent. Tao Ning’s cultivation habits were reckless. She never consolidated her breakthroughs, always pushing herself to the limit, exhausting her spiritual energy completely. This self-destructive behavior needed to be addressed.

Today, Tao Ning’s cultivation had taken longer than usual. Waking up, she felt a weight on her lap.

Looking down, she saw the Shangxi bird, having grown tired of waiting, had settled down for a nap.

The Ice Cavern was cold, and the bird, its claws tucked beneath its fluffy white feathers, its head resting on Tao Ning’s arm, looked far less elegant and composed than its usual, carefully preened self.

Unable to resist, Tao Ning reached out, her touch startling the bird awake.

The Shangxi bird, blinking sleepily, shifted its wings, dislodging something small and round.

Tao Ning picked it up. It looked like a cherry, but without a pit, its skin glistening with moisture.

An Ice Dew Fruit, growing only in extremely cold environments, maturing once every five hundred years, a rare and valuable find. The Ice Cavern was the perfect environment.

Holding the small cluster of fruits before the Shangxi bird, she asked, “Did you pick these?”

The Shangxi bird, a soft gurgle in its throat, confirmed its contribution.

Cen Dianshuang, sensing a spiritual fluctuation earlier, had investigated, finding a patch of ripe Ice Dew Fruits and collecting them.

Standing up, it shook its wings, dislodging a small pouch hidden beneath them. The pouch’s contents, a pile of Ice Dew Fruits, spilled onto Tao Ning’s lap.

Tao Ning, initially reaching out to catch them, then realizing there were too many, used her skirt instead, her eyes widening in surprise. “So many! I can’t possibly eat all of these.”

It was usually Tao Ning offering food. This was a welcome change.

The bird, with a flick of its wings, indicated that she could save them for later.

Such small, sweet treats were hardly a meal for a creature of its size.

In her human form, she was indifferent to human sweets and pastries, finding them overly sweet, except for her disciple’s creations. But in her bird form, she couldn’t resist the natural sweetness of fruits and nectar, a trait shared by all Shangxi, even hatchlings instinctively seeking them out.

It was a primal urge, an inherited instinct.

Tao Ning’s eyes shone with delight. Gathering her skirt, its folds now heavy with the fruits, she asked, “All for me?”

The Shangxi bird, peering into her lap, instinctively started to chirp a reply, then stopped abruptly, remembering its new, mature persona.

“So many… It’ll take a while to eat all of these. I’ll have to store them properly.” Tao Ning, her attention focused on the fruits in her lap, didn’t notice the light drizzle outside.

The Shangxi bird, relieved, smoothed its ruffled feathers.

---

Three months passed quickly. Cen Dianshuang’s visits became less frequent as the other sects began arriving for the disciple competition.

As a peak master, and the Sect Leader’s most trusted junior sister, she had to maintain appearances, playing the role of the stern, responsible elder, while Lizhu played the affable host.

But Lizhu had another motive.

An elder from another sect, leading his disciples, greeted Cen Dianshuang politely. “Elder Cen of Wangshu Peak, I presume? It’s an honor to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Lizhu, her smile warm and welcoming, replied, “Oh, have you heard about my junior sister’s recent breakthrough to Soul Transformation? Your sect’s intelligence network is quite impressive.”

The elder: “…”

Cen Dianshuang: …This is the price of refusing a celebratory banquet.

Too much attention.

Standing on the Viewing Platform, looking towards the Ice Cavern, she calculated the time. Tao Ning should be emerging from seclusion today.

She summoned her sword, intending to fetch her disciple, when a hushed conversation below caught her attention.

“Have you heard? The Wanhun Cauldron has already emerged. It’s at the Hanshan Sect.”

She looked down to see a group of cultivators, their swords of decent quality, their cultivation levels at Golden Core, their conversation shielded by a silencing spell.

They had forgotten, however, that Cen Dianshuang’s cultivation was far superior. She could hear them clearly.

A rogue cultivator in grey robes said, “At the Hanshan Sect? But the Sect Leader hasn’t mentioned anything.”

Another, lowering his voice, replied, “Are you stupid? The Wanhun Cauldron contains Demon Lord Qingji’s life essence. Whoever possesses it will gain immense power. Why would they announce it?”

“That makes sense… The Hanshan Sect Leader has been stuck at a bottleneck for a while now. She hasn’t been able to find a way to break through.”

These words, the first Tao Ning heard after emerging from seclusion, brought a smile to her lips.

“Who told you the Wanhun Cauldron contains Qingji’s life essence? And that using it will enhance your cultivation?”

The cultivator she addressed jumped, startled. He was a rogue cultivator, hoping to impress the sects during the competition and secure a position as a guest elder.

Anything was better than wandering the world alone, without the support of a sect.

Seeing Tao Ning’s youthful appearance and lack of sect uniform, he assumed she was also a rogue cultivator, his expression turning sour.

“Why are you eavesdropping?”

Tao Ning: “Your silencing spell is… weak. I could hear you from miles away.”

Her bluntness only angered them further. They reached for their swords.

“Are you looking for a fight?” Tao Ning interrupted, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m always happy to oblige. But first, tell me who told you about the cauldron.”

The cultivator in grey was pulled back by his companion, who hissed, “Don’t! Look!”

He followed his companion’s gaze, then his own face paled as he saw the Hanshan Sect disciple token at Tao Ning’s waist, which had been hidden by her robes earlier.

Of all the people to offend…

Their expressions shifted rapidly as Tao Ning watched, then one spoke, his voice weak. “It’s just a rumor.”

Tao Ning: “A rumor? So not only do you know, but everyone knows. You were probably all discussing it excitedly before arriving.”

The three cultivators exchanged uneasy glances. She was right, but her tone…

Tao Ning looked at them, then at the crowds of cultivators arriving for the competition, their faces smiling, their greetings polite and friendly.

“So, you’re not just here for the competition, are you?”

Their silence confirmed her suspicion.

Tao Ning chuckled, her voice laced with amusement. “Bold.”

She wanted peace and quiet, a chance to travel the world with Cen Dianshuang on their spirit boat. These… ambitious fools… were an annoyance.

They weren’t sure what she meant by “bold,” but her words and her demeanor were unsettling.

It was a humbling experience. They were all at Golden Core, yet they felt… intimidated.

After Tao Ning left, they couldn’t bear to stay any longer, hurrying towards the mountain gate.

This place is dangerous. Let’s leave!

What if those Hanshan Sect disciples decide to eliminate us?

Tao Ning, watching them flee, turned and walked towards the Viewing Platform, a bright smile on her face as she approached Cen Dianshuang. “Master, I’m out of seclusion! Were you waiting for me?”

520 sometimes wished its host had pursued a career in acting.

Her ability to switch personas was remarkable, as if it were ingrained in her very being.

Perhaps she was a street performer in her previous life, honing her craft for years before realizing a stable government job was more secure, dedicating herself to the civil service exam, finally succeeding on her third attempt.

520, its mind filled with random thoughts, silently muted itself, not wanting its host to hear its amusement.

Cen Dianshuang, catching Tao Ning’s arm as she rushed towards her, checked her pulse. “I was about to fetch you from the Ice Cavern, but it seems you were impatient.”

Tao Ning, her hand still in Cen Dianshuang’s, unable to express her affection more openly with so many people around, simply smiled. “I couldn’t wait to see you, Master.”

Releasing Tao Ning’s wrist, Cen Dianshuang said, “You’re much better. But don’t do that again. What happened in Shadow City… You have to be more careful.”

Tao Ning’s fighting style was reckless, all-out offense, no defense.

Cen Dianshuang tapped her forehead lightly. “If not for your cultivation, you would have demolished the entire city. Your combat style reflects your character. What kind of hardships did you endure?”

Tao Ning touched her forehead. “I don’t remember.”

---

The three cultivators, not daring to fly within the Hanshan Sect, hurried through the crowds, summoning their swords only after passing through the mountain gates.

A female cultivator, her shoulder bumped by one of the men, turned, frowning. “Watch where you’re going!”

A voice called out, “Ting’er, come here.”

“Coming, Master.” Pang Xueting hurried towards her master, her initial annoyance fading as she took in the scenery, her eyes wide with wonder. “So this is the Hanshan Sect, where my savior resides.”

True Person Chang Xiang hadn’t come as a supervising elder for the competition. Worried about her disciple’s first solo journey, she had requested permission to accompany her.

The Sect Leader and the other elders would arrive later, traveling separately.

Dressed in simple green robes, her hair neatly styled, a jade hairpin shaped like a brush adorning her hair, she resembled a scholar if not for her Nascent Soul aura.

She addressed Pang Xueting. “The senior you mentioned is Tao Ning, the first disciple of Wangshu Peak’s Elder Cen. She’s on the Heavenly Pride Ranking.”

“I’ve seen the ranking, Master,” Pang Xueting replied, her voice filled with admiration. “She should be first, not tenth. The ranking is wrong.”

True Person Chang Xiang smiled, not bothering to argue. “Perhaps. The Cloud Soaring Palace, responsible for the rankings, bases their assessments on a cultivator’s accomplishments. Your senior doesn’t seek fame. There isn’t much information about her. The rankings will be more accurate after this competition.”

Pang Xueting nodded eagerly. “Exactly! She single-handedly defeated three opponents in Shadow City, but the Cloud Soaring Palace dismissed it because True Person Cen was present.”

True Person Chang Xiang: “Speaking of Shadow City… she saved your life and helped you recover Meng Le’s remains. I should thank her.”

Meng Le was her deceased disciple, surnamed Qiu.

She had only taken two disciples: Pang Xueting and Qiu Meng Le.

Chapter 71: Disciple and Wife

Upon returning to the sect, after much coaxing and cajoling, Cen Dianshuang finally managed to settle Tao Ning in the Ice Cavern. She was immediately intercepted by Lizhu.

Lizhu, her smile strained, said, “I’ve been staring at this communication jade for days, waiting for a response, and now I finally catch you.”

Cen Dianshuang, avoiding her senior sister’s gaze, mumbled, “I…”

She had completely forgotten to reply.

Coughing into her sleeve, she asked, “What can I do for you, Senior Sister?”

Lizhu chuckled, her smile widening as she grabbed Cen Dianshuang’s arm, pulling her along. “Can’t I just talk to you without a reason? I missed you…”

Cen Dianshuang’s face paled, a shiver running down her spine.

The disciples trailing behind them shared her apprehension.

Sect Leader Lizhu, always smiling and cheerful, spending her days sipping tea and soaking in hot springs, seemed like a gentle, health-conscious elder. In reality, she had once been a force to be reckoned with, her temper legendary.

The previous Sect Leader had constantly reminded her to control her temper, to cultivate inner peace. She had taken the advice to heart.

The result was a more… controlled… anger, but its intensity, when unleashed, was even more formidable, often reducing even Cen Dianshuang to a trembling mess.

Thus, everyone in the Hanshan Sect knew that a cheerful, smiling Sect Leader was a good sign. A warm, gentle smile, however, was a warning, a sign of impending doom.

Lizhu chuckled again. “I missed you helping me prepare for the disciple competition.”

Cen Dianshuang, relieved, let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, finally remembering. “The disciple competition? Is it that time already?”

Lizhu, her hands tucked into her sleeves, replied, “As you know, your Senior Brother Yaodan is in seclusion again. Apparently, one of his disciples’ soul lamps went out, and he sent his first disciple to investigate… But that’s not important. It’s our turn to host the competition this year, and I’m short-handed. You can’t escape your duties.”

Cen Dianshuang attempted to deflect the responsibility. “What about Senior Sister Qianlian…?”

Lizhu gave her a pointed look. “You know Qianlian’s temper. You’re the only one who can help me.”

The sudden burden of responsibility was heavy.

Cen Dianshuang wanted to say she was no better than Elder Qianlian.

Her disciple was in the Ice Cavern, surrounded by ice and snow. She had intended to check on her…

But Lizhu had asked for her help. She couldn’t refuse.

Lizhu, studying her for a moment, asked, “You weren’t coming from the sect, were you? Where were you?”

Cen Dianshuang didn’t bother lying. “The Ice Cavern.”

Lizhu’s brow furrowed. “What were you doing there? Are you experiencing a heart demon?”

Cen Dianshuang’s expression turned serious. “Senior Sister, do you remember mentioning the Wanhun Cauldron? I went to Shadow City. It… happened to emerge while I was there. So I brought it back.”

Lizhu: “Your attempts at changing the subject are… clumsy. You brought back more than just the cauldron.”

She was torn between exasperation – Such a significant event, and you didn’t inform me? – and a strange sense of pride – My little junior sister is finally taking initiative.

Her expression, however, resembled that of a disappointed parent, their carefully nurtured child having gone astray.

Cen Dianshuang, sensing her senior sister’s disapproval, silently retrieved a pouch, deciding that actions spoke louder than words.

Lizhu extended her hand. “I thought I needed to find you something to do, but it seems you’ve kept yourself busy. I almost became the villain.”

Cen Dianshuang, not daring to speak, placed the pouch in Lizhu’s hand.

Lizhu, looking at the small, embroidered pouch, frowned. “Why are you giving me a scented pouch?”

Cen Dianshuang tapped it. “It’s inside.”

Lizhu, sensing no trace of a concealing formation or a divine artifact’s aura, frowned. “…What?” She squeezed the soft pouch, her voice filled with disbelief. “It’s… in here?”

Those who had seen the Wanhun Cauldron were all dead. Lizhu had only heard stories, never witnessing the artifact that terrified the three realms.

She had expected something… more imposing, its arrival heralded by storms and bloodshed, requiring utmost caution.

Being casually carried around in a low-grade pouch seemed… anticlimactic.

The weight in her hand, though light, felt heavy with significance.

Cen Dianshuang, anticipating a lecture, quickly said, “It’s in there. I suddenly remembered something I need to do. I’ll be going now.”

With that, she vanished in a flash of white, the sect’s spirit birds taking flight, their cries echoing after her.

“Wait! Am I really that annoying?”

After she was gone, Lizhu’s smile faded, her gaze fixed on the pouch in her hand, her expression thoughtful.

She gave it to me so easily? Perhaps it’s not…

Her disciples watched as she stared at the pouch, then tucked it into her sleeve, shaking her head with a sigh. “A simple trip, and now I have a major problem. A divine artifact… Where am I supposed to keep it?”

---

The Ice Cavern was where Hanshan Sect disciples were sent for punishment or solitary cultivation.

A frozen wasteland, perpetually covered in snow, separated from the rest of the sect by a frozen river, its icy depths teeming with spirit beasts.

A place of punishment wouldn’t be comfortable. The biting cold frosted Tao Ning’s eyebrows, making her resemble an ice sculpture.

The Ice Cavern, however, was effective. After just a day, not only had the Wanhun Cauldron’s lingering resentment faded, but Tao Ning’s own worldly desires had also vanished, her mind as clear and empty as a Buddhist monk’s.

As she was gently reassuring the cauldron’s spirit, urging it to remain calm, a soft sound startled her. The sound of falling snow.

She opened her eyes to see a white bird landing on a snow-covered branch outside the cave.

Tao Ning felt a flicker of… something… a return of worldly desires.

The bird tilted its head, its dark eyes reflecting Tao Ning’s frost-covered form.

Tao Ning remained seated, observing the adult Shangxi bird.

Legends claimed that an adult Shangxi’s wings could blot out the sun, carry the moon on its back. This one, barely half an arm’s length, must have used a spell to shrink its size.

Unlike its fluffy, round, chick form, the adult Shangxi was elegant and slender, its long wings and tail feathers like delicate brushstrokes of white against the snow, a creature of ethereal beauty.

It shifted its claws, sensing… something… in Tao Ning’s gaze, considering leaving.

It had practiced its new, mature demeanor before venturing out, ensuring it was no longer recognizable.

As if sensing its intention, Tao Ning spoke. “Are you a spirit bird native to the Ice Cavern? I’ve never seen one before.”

The Shangxi bird paused, folding its wings, settling back onto the branch.

She didn’t recognize me, it thought, relieved. That was close.

From Tao Ning’s perspective, the bird, about to leave, suddenly adopted a calm, almost regal demeanor, its feathers practically screaming, Yes, I’m a rare Ice Cavern bird. You guessed correctly.

If 520 knew what the bird was thinking, it would have said, You’re treating her like a Disney princess! Not every bird is going to engage in friendly conversation! You’ve only ever interacted with one bird!

Tao Ning, perhaps feeling bored, continued, “I have some dried Silverfish. Would you like some?”

The Shangxi bird: …No, I’ve had plenty.

It took flight, shaking the snow from the branch, landing gracefully a short distance from Tao Ning.

But it had been a while. A small snack wouldn’t hurt.

Tao Ning, no longer teasing, retrieved a handful of dried fish, placing them on a nearby rock.

The familiar aroma reminded the Shangxi bird of its previous visits, a sudden wave of… nostalgia… washing over it.

Lowering its head, it began to eat, its beak delicately picking up the small, dried fish.

The sight always amused Tao Ning.

As a human, Cen Dianshuang was righteous and unwavering, her sword a force to be reckoned with. In her true form, however, she shed her inhibitions, her temper flaring, her fondness for snacks undeniable.

The two personas were so different, so seemingly incompatible, that anyone unaware of her true nature would never connect them. But Tao Ning found Cen Dianshuang’s… duality… endearing.

Only humans struggled with controlling their desires.

The sound of flapping wings startled Tao Ning from her reverie. “I have more, if you want some,” she said, retrieving another handful of fish.

The casual offer made the Shangxi bird freeze. It had almost forgotten its new, mature form, instinctively responding to the familiar offer.

Tao Ning’s tone and gestures were too familiar, echoing countless previous encounters.

It wasn’t worried about Tao Ning feeding other birds – she had only ever interacted with it – but about being recognized. The last time its name had been spoken, it had nearly exploded.

But it couldn’t resist seeing her.

As Tao Ning placed the new offering on a jade plate, she gave the bird a curious look. “Why are you staring at me?”

The Shangxi bird quickly lowered its head and resumed eating.

Tao Ning’s fingers twitched, wanting to touch the soft, white feathers, but she resisted, afraid of startling the bird away.

So she resorted to conversation instead. “Is it good?”

The Shangxi bird, its beak full, didn’t answer.

Tao Ning shifted her position, resting her chin on her hands. “My master insists I stay in the Ice Cavern for three months, to cleanse myself of the resentment. But I’m so bored…”

The Shangxi bird’s eating paused for a fraction of a second, then resumed, as if nothing had happened.

It didn’t realize Tao Ning had noticed.

Changing the subject, Tao Ning smiled at the bird. “I actually have more Silverfish. I was saving them for another little bird, but it hasn’t visited in a while. Will you come back tomorrow? I’ll give them to you.”

The Shangxi bird tilted its head, its beady eyes fixed on Tao Ning.

Another bird? The one whose feather dust you always complain about?

Unfortunately, Tao Ning couldn’t read avian expressions. She simply looked back, puzzled.

“Will you come back? I promise I’ll have more.”

With that promise, the Shangxi bird became a regular visitor.

Cen Dianshuang, however, was busy, her responsibilities piling up.

During the day, she assisted her senior sister with the preparations for the disciple competition, occasionally responding to Tao Ning’s messages. At night, without fail, she transformed into her bird form and flew to the Ice Cavern.

Thankfully, Tao Ning had stopped humming that annoying “bird anthem,” which always triggered an involuntary chirp. She didn’t want to explain why the Ice Cavern’s perpetual snowfall had turned into sleet.

520, watching the Shangxi bird fly away, then Tao Ning immediately sending a message to Cen Dianshuang, expressing her longing and affection, simply shook its head, suppressing the urge to say, You’re playing with fire, Host.

Another night, Tao Ning finished her meditation, her eyes opening to see the familiar white bird perched on a nearby cushion.

Looking at its pristine white plumage, she felt a sudden urge to… do something… but resisted, shaking her head. “No, that would be too much.”

The Shangxi bird tilted its head, its expression innocent.

The gesture was too cute to resist. Her fingers twitched.

She couldn’t recall ever having a pet in her previous life. She had always been indifferent to such things. But now, she found herself comparing every bird she saw to this perfect specimen of whiteness.

A soft, warm weight on her hand, and she looked down to see the Shangxi bird, having hopped off the cushion, nuzzling its head against her hand.

As if saying, Fine, if you want to pet me that badly, go ahead.

Tao Ning: “…”

Something exploded within her.

Her heart, overwhelmed by cuteness.

Chapter 70: Disciple and Wife

Tao Ning woke up faster this time, finding herself surrounded by another pile of spent spirit stones.

520, looking at the grey husks, commented, 【Your master is like a whale in a gacha game, and you’re the fragile character that needs constant reviving with premium currency.】

“How long was I out?” Tao Ning rubbed her temples, the throbbing pain from her earlier exertions now gone.

520: 【Not long. Just an hour.】

Tao Ning stood up, putting away the meditation cushion, and walked outside.

While it should have been bright daylight, the city remained shrouded in a perpetual twilight.

It would take time for Shadow City to recover.

Looking at the lingering resentment in the air, thinner than the previous night, she knew what Cen Dianshuang had been doing.

She saw a figure standing on a nearby rooftop and called out, “Master, we should hire some Buddhist cultivators to chant scriptures here. Seven days and nights should do the trick.”

Cen Dianshuang, with a graceful leap, landed beside her, her white robes swirling like butterfly wings.

“Let me see your hand.” She checked Tao Ning’s pulse, then, satisfied, released her wrist.

“Hiring Buddhist cultivators requires spirit stones.”

Tao Ning nodded. “Buddha doesn’t save the poor.”

Cen Dianshuang chuckled, lightly flicking Tao Ning’s forehead. “That’s not quite right.” She looked towards the sky, where a faint, shimmering, pale blue energy radiated outwards from the newly formed Eight Directions Cleansing Formation.

Tao Ning touched her forehead, her heart softening as she smiled back.

It wasn’t her imagination. Cen Dianshuang seemed… different since emerging from seclusion. Calmer, gentler, her aura resonating with the world around her.

The previous Sect Leader’s desperate gamble had paid off.

Cen Dianshuang felt a hand slip into hers, a warm, reassuring touch, not just a tug on her sleeve. The subtle shift made her pause, but she didn’t pull away, accepting the contact.

She led Tao Ning away, both looking up at the sky.

“I used a small Spirit Vein Pearl as the formation’s focal point. Within ten years, Shadow City should recover, its spiritual energy replenished. I’m not skilled in formations. I had to consult my senior sister. It took a while, but it worked.”

Tao Ning: “A Spirit Vein Pearl is… extravagant. High-grade spirit stones would have been sufficient.”

A moment of silence, then Cen Dianshuang’s voice, a gentle reprimand. “I didn’t bring many spirit stones. You used them all. Don’t do that again. Give your all in battle, but don’t exhaust yourself completely. It’s dangerous.”

Tao Ning, slightly embarrassed, scratched her cheek. “Sorry for the trouble, Master.”

Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “Nothing you do is ever trouble.”

Just as she spoke, a voice called out from the distance, its owner running towards them. “True Person Cen, the items you requested…”

Pang Xueting stopped abruptly, her gaze shifting between Cen Dianshuang and Tao Ning, their hands now separating. Her lips twitched.

“…are placed throughout the city.”

She smiled politely, her inner thoughts a silent scream. Why am I always the one getting hurt?!

Cen Dianshuang: “And the children? Have they recovered? Did you find their families?”

Pang Xueting, remembering the kidnapped children, nodded.

Cen Dianshuang: “I’ll go check on them.” She needed to see for herself.

With her most troublesome disciple awake and unharmed, she could finally focus on other matters.

As she turned to leave, she paused, touching her sleeve, a nagging feeling that she had forgotten something. She shook her head. “If I can’t remember, it must not be important.”

Back at the Hanshan Sect, Lizhu, staring at her communication jade, waiting for a reply: …Why hasn’t she responded yet?

Tao Ning, watching Cen Dianshuang leave, saw Pang Xueting looking at her with a strange, almost knowing expression. As their eyes met, Pang Xueting smiled brightly, patting her chest reassuringly.

Don’t worry, Senior Tao, your secret is safe with me!

Then, she walked away.

Tao Ning: …I don’t know what just happened, but I feel like I’ve received a very important promise.

With everything settled, it was time to leave Shadow City.

The decaying gates, their bronze hinges creaking, swung shut, sending a shower of dust into the air.

The disciples were discussing how to transport the rescued children, assuming Elder Cen wouldn’t want to be burdened with them. Her sword didn’t seem designed for passengers.

Before they could reach a decision, Tao Ning retrieved a small, exquisitely crafted boat from her spatial sleeve.

A child, pointing at the miniature boat, said, “It’s so tiny! Smaller than my finger!”

Children, despite their innocence, understood more than they let on. Pang Xueting had explained that without the “scary” woman who had saved them, they would have been devoured by monsters.

Seeing Tao Ning’s calm, composed demeanor, they felt less intimidated, even daring to approach her.

Cen Dianshuang, arriving, also saw the miniature boat. “A spirit boat? Where did you get that?”

Tao Ning: “A little something I made while waiting for you, Master. I thought we could use it to travel the Radiant Realm together. For… transportation and… relaxation.”

A little something? Cen Dianshuang, while not an expert refiner, had learned a thing or two from her Senior Sister Qianlian. The boat was clearly a high-quality artifact, its craftsmanship intricate and precise.

Pang Xueting was speechless.

While the others didn’t understand the implication, she did. She even prepared a spirit boat for their travels! Is she incredibly thoughtful, or incredibly reckless?

The child repeated, “Is that a boat? It’s so small!”

Tao Ning tossed the boat in the air, then, with a flick of her wrist, sent a wave of spiritual energy towards it.

The small boat expanded rapidly, its shadow falling over the city, hovering above them before slowly descending, landing just outside the city walls.

The onlookers gasped, their eyes wide with wonder.

While some of the Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, from wealthy families, had seen high-level artifacts before, a spirit boat like this, resembling a miniature palace, complete with a spirit gathering formation for cultivation, was rare and impressive. They eagerly approached, wanting a closer look.

Tao Ning, the first to board, turned and offered her hand to Cen Dianshuang. “Please, Master.”

Cen Dianshuang, her gaze lingering on the opulent spirit boat, placed her hand in Tao Ning’s.

Pang Xueting, standing nearby, closed her eyes, her mind reeling.

The other disciples, each carrying a child, followed, their excitement overriding any lingering questions about the hand-holding or the fact that Tao Ning, a sword and zither cultivator, could also craft such high-level artifacts.

As the spirit boat soared into the sky, a figure emerged from the shadows within Shadow City, watching their departure.

It was Er Lan.

She didn’t understand why Tao Ning, whom she had only met briefly, had attacked her without a word.

But she knew one thing: she couldn’t return to the Hanshan Sect. Doing so would be a death sentence.

She sighed inwardly, the loss of her hard-earned position within the sect a bitter pill to swallow, but her own survival, and the Demon Lord’s plans, were more important.

A gust of wind, and the pink-clad figure vanished into the shadows.

The Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, initially planning to disembark at a nearby city and return to their sect, now reconsidered. With such luxurious transportation, why rush?

It’s not… sightseeing… We’re simply escorting these children home.

That night, the spirit boat sailed through a sea of clouds.

Most of the children had been returned to their families. Only two remained, their homes further away.

In the quiet of the night, under the high-hanging moon, a figure moved through the ship’s cabins.

The excited disciples had declared their intention to cultivate all night, hoping to impress their masters with their progress.

Pang Xueting, however, quietly closed the door to one of the cabins, muffling the sounds of snoring.

One by one, she closed the doors, then headed towards the deck, seeking fresh air.

Another figure was already there: Tao Ning, her back to Pang Xueting, her silhouette familiar.

Pang Xueting: “…”

Hesitating for a moment, she decided to return to her room. I’ll enjoy the fresh air later.

Not now. Not appropriate.

Tao Ning approached the meditating figure, sitting down on a nearby cushion, her hand resting on her chin as she studied Cen Dianshuang’s profile.

Cen Dianshuang, sensing her presence, opened her eyes, meeting Tao Ning’s warm gaze.

“I woke up and you were gone. I missed you, so I came looking for you.”

Cen Dianshuang’s gaze lingered on Tao Ning’s forehead. “Your… resentment… It’s… fluctuating. Is it… diurnal?”

Tao Ning leaned closer, the fine hairs on her face visible in the moonlight, her eyes reflecting Cen Dianshuang’s image. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Cen Dianshuang, her hands now clasped in Tao Ning’s, glanced down, making no attempt to pull away.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll explain later.”

Tao Ning’s initial unease faded, and she raised Cen Dianshuang’s hand, pressing it against her cheek, rubbing gently.

She had noticed Tao Ning’s fondness for this gesture, and she… didn’t dislike it.

Tao Ning held Cen Dianshuang’s hand against her face, her eyes lowered, her expression soft and… harmless.

She nuzzled Cen Dianshuang’s hand, her voice soft. “Master.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Mmm.”

Tao Ning repeated, her voice even softer, “Master…”

Cen Dianshuang understood. She was simply… seeking attention.

But she still responded, her voice gentle. “I’m here.”

She allowed herself to be drawn into the moment, the warmth of Tao Ning’s touch a comforting presence. She had never considered simply… being with someone… a source of happiness.

She had always found such things… tedious, preferring the thrill of sword practice, dismissing romantic entanglements as a waste of time.

But now, simply being with Tao Ning, talking, sharing a quiet moment, seemed… almost… more enjoyable than practicing her swordsmanship.

Almost.

Tao Ning, her lips curving into a smile, her eyes gleaming with a fox-like cunning, whispered, “Cen Dianshuang.”

Cen Dianshuang’s fingers brushed against Tao Ning’s cheek, her eyes softening. She chuckled softly. “A disciple addressing her master by name. Such disrespect.”

Tao Ning smiled, repeating the name, “Cen Dianshuang. Cen Dianshuang.”

As if the name itself was a source of amusement, a newly discovered treasure.

Cen Dianshuang responded each time, her voice a gentle murmur. “I’m here.”

Tao Ning, releasing Cen Dianshuang’s hand, leaned closer, her gaze intense. “Cen Dianshuang, I admire you. I… cherish you.”

Cen Dianshuang, unable to resist, leaned in, their lips meeting, her words a soft, breathless whisper against Tao Ning’s mouth. “I know. I… feel the same.”

Their lips locked in a long, slow kiss, the empty deck of the spirit boat their private sanctuary.

Forty years of seclusion, forty years of silence, only her cultivation for company, her wings growing stronger with each passing day.

Alone in the vast expanse of Thunder God Valley, the silence had been… overwhelming. She had often found herself thinking, If Tao Ning were here, I wouldn’t be so bored.

A mix of avoidance and longing, a sudden emptiness in her heart as she finally acknowledged her true feelings.

Love was a feeling, not a logical construct. There were too many reasons, making it impossible to choose a single, definitive explanation.

But trapped in seclusion, unable to confide in anyone, she had been forced to confront her feelings alone.

So she had counted the petals on the plum blossom, a distraction from the agonizing pain of her expanding meridians.

Day and night, she had stared at the vase, memorizing the number of blossoms, their color unchanging, their beauty preserved. When she could maintain her human form, she would gently touch the branch, her fingers tracing its delicate curves.

If forty years weren’t enough time to understand her own heart, then she had truly lived in vain.

As they parted, Tao Ning, her gaze lingering on Cen Dianshuang’s lips, leaned in for another quick kiss.

She seemed to want to say something, but her strength failed her, and she collapsed against Cen Dianshuang, her body enveloped in a warm embrace.

“…”

So it’s like this again.

Cen Dianshuang held her, gently patting her back. “When we return, you’ll need to spend some time in the Ice Cavern, to cleanse yourself of the resentment.”

Tao Ning’s eyes snapped open. “No, I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

Cen Dianshuang, startled by her sudden awakening, chuckled softly. “What will you do if you don’t cleanse yourself, and this happens again?”

Tao Ning rubbed her temples, her voice slightly slurred. “I’ll… I’ll manage.”

The Wanhun Cauldron, sealed for so long, had been overly enthusiastic upon its release, its power briefly overwhelming Tao Ning, who was no longer at Mahayana.

It wasn’t serious. Regular meditation would suppress the cauldron’s influence.

Cen Dianshuang, unaware of the true cause, relaxed, finding the situation slightly amusing.

Those influenced by resentment often became aggressive and violent. Her disciple, however, had simply become more clingy and prone to dramatic displays of affection.

She had abandoned all pretense of maintaining a master’s decorum, her behavior emboldened by Cen Dianshuang’s unintentional indulgence.

Cen Dianshuang shook her head, then sighed. “This isn’t something you can simply ‘manage’… Fine, I won’t say anything more.”

She kissed Tao Ning’s cheek, her hand resting on her wrist, channeling a cool stream of spiritual energy to help suppress the cauldron’s influence.

Tao Ning, no longer able to cling to Cen Dianshuang, reluctantly sat up, beginning her meditation.

Bathed in moonlight, she looked like a jade statue, her face serene as the faint darkness lingering between her eyebrows slowly dissipated.

Cen Dianshuang, seeing her recover, concluded that her disciple was simply… resilient.

And…

She looked at the spirit boat, its intricate design and spacious cabins a testament to Tao Ning’s skill.

It was far more than a simple “toy.”

A weight on her lap, and she looked down to see Tao Ning, no longer meditating, but lying down, her head resting on Cen Dianshuang’s thigh.

Cen Dianshuang gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Tao Ning’s face, her hand captured by her disciple, who, despite her closed eyes, was clearly awake.

“Can you even breathe with your sleeve covering your face?” Cen Dianshuang chuckled, gently pulling her sleeve away.

---

After returning the last two children to their families, Tao Ning chose a spot outside a city near the Heavenly Heart Sect to disembark.

The disciples, feeling indebted to their saviors, wanted to express their gratitude properly, perhaps even securing a formal thank you from their elders. The immortals’ abrupt departure felt… incomplete.

“You’re returning to the Heavenly Heart Sect, right?” Tao Ning smiled as they prepared to leave. “I won’t be joining you. Go on. Go home.”

Disappointed, but understanding, they disembarked.

Pang Xueting, lingering behind, turned to Tao Ning, her voice firm. “Our paths will cross again, Senior Tao! I’ll defeat my fellow disciples and visit you at the Hanshan Sect during the next competition!”

Tao Ning remembered the centennial disciple competition, hosted by the Hanshan Sect this year.

A young disciple’s ambition was admirable. She smiled, waving her hand dismissively. “Alright. I’ll be waiting for you to claim the top spot in the Foundation Establishment division. Your name will be on the Heavenly Pride Ranking. A new generation of prodigies.”

Pang Xueting, slightly embarrassed by the praise, blushed.

Before jumping off the boat, she said, “Thank you for your encouragement, Senior Tao. I’ll do my best.”

As the spirit boat ascended, Pang Xueting led her fellow disciples towards the city.

Cen Dianshuang emerged from the cabin, joining Tao Ning by the railing, looking down at the small figures below. “Those are the children you saved before joining the Hanshan Sect. Their hearts are pure.”

Tao Ning: “She told you that? I didn’t go out of my way to save them. I simply… repaid a kindness. They shared their food with me.”

Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “Actions speak louder than words. And in their hearts, you’re their savior, their guide on the path of cultivation.”

Returning to their sect, Pang Xueting informed her master of Senior Brother Qiu’s death and the events in Shadow City.

Before True Person Chang Xiang could question her further, she was summoned by the Sect Leader.

Pang Xueting was puzzled. Being summoned by the Sect Leader wasn’t unusual, but why would the Sect Leader want to see her?

Arriving at the meeting hall, she realized she wasn’t the only one summoned. Several elders were also present.

She was the second to arrive, preceded by Zhuang Shimei, the elder’s son, who looked as confused as she was.

Once everyone had assembled, the Sect Leader, who had been meditating with her eyes closed, opened them, addressing the group. “Do you know what artifacts were created in Shadow City that day?”

Chapter 69: Disciple and Wife

“Bang!” A half-person-tall basket overflowing with high-grade spirit stones landed on the floor.

“Thump! Clatter!” Another basket followed, its contents carelessly spilled onto the floor.

The dimly lit room brightened, the spirit stones’ glow outshining the nearby fire, their radiance highlighting the luxurious couch.

The youngsters peering through the doorway: …Our eyes!

They had never seen such a casually extravagant spirit gathering formation.

As the formation activated, a wave of pure, concentrated spiritual energy washed over them, like the refreshing burst of fresh air after a rain shower.

It was a strange sensation, spiritual energy as palpable as rain, invigorating and revitalizing.

Tao Ning, lying on the couch, her eyes closed, absorbed the energy instinctively, her depleted meridians eagerly drinking it in.

Cen Dianshuang, seeing this, felt a wave of relief.

But the lingering resentment from the Wanhun Cauldron still clung to Tao Ning, a shadow in her aura. They needed to return to the Hanshan Sect soon.

Cen Dianshuang stepped outside, retrieving two bottles of pills from her spatial pouch. She offered one to Pang Xueting. “Replenishing Pills. One each. Restore your spiritual energy.”

“Thank you, Senior.” Pang Xueting took the jade-red bottle, then looked up, puzzled, as Cen Dianshuang offered another.

Cen Dianshuang tapped the second bottle. “Cleansing Pills. Everyone needs to take one. Even the children. It will… prolong their lives.”

Pang Xueting, her admiration growing, nodded. “Thank you, Senior.” She hadn’t expected the Senior to be so considerate.

The savior’s master is also a kind person. Cold and aloof on the outside, but warm-hearted.

Shadow City, steeped in resentment for centuries, was devoid of spiritual energy, making cultivation impossible.

The disciples had initially relied on Replenishing Pills, but their supply had run out, forcing them to rely on their own dwindling reserves.

Cen Dianshuang returned to Tao Ning’s side, maintaining her vigil.

Pang Xueting distributed the pills. As she handed one to Zhuang Shimei, he suddenly slapped his thigh, his eyes widening in realization. “I remember!”

The others, startled by his outburst, turned to him.

Zhuang Shimei, having depleted his arsenal of protective artifacts, no longer cared about their loss.

His voice was filled with awe. “I went to the Hanshan Sect with my father once, to trade for pills. I saw her there, calling the Peak Master ‘Senior Brother.’ Later, my father told me she was Elder Cen, the Disciplinary Hall Elder! Immortal Dianshuang! I remember the red mark on her forehead clearly!”

“I knew she looked familiar! I was too young back then. I just remembered!”

The others stared at him, their hands frozen mid-air, the pills clutched in their fingers.

Who? Who did you say she was?

And what hall did you say she managed?

How did such a powerful figure end up in this remote, desolate city?

When Cen Dianshuang emerged again, she found a group of unusually subdued and respectful youngsters.

Cen Dianshuang: …This feels like I’m back at the Hanshan Sect.

Hanshan Sect disciples were notoriously respectful, and terrified, in her presence.

She turned to Pang Xueting, who seemed the most articulate among them. “You…”

Pang Xueting straightened up, bowing respectfully. “What are your instructions, True Person Cen?”

Cen Dianshuang: “…”

---

Tao Ning awoke to the sound of hushed whispers, her depleted meridians gradually replenished by the concentrated spiritual energy.

She opened her eyes to the dust-covered ceiling, 520’s voice echoing in her mind. 【After five hundred years, you finally awaken.】

Rubbing her temples, she sat up, her complexion returning to its normal, healthy glow. She hadn’t been injured, just drained of spiritual energy.

She remembered Cen Dianshuang taking the Wanhun Cauldron. That was reassuring.

Maintaining her current disguise, concealing her true identity, possessing the cauldron would have been a liability. It was better off in the Hanshan Sect’s custody.

The most powerful sect in the Radiant Realm would surely find a way to contain its resentment. She had no desire to reclaim her title as Demon Lord.

The room was empty, the door closed. Looking down, she saw a pile of grey stones at the foot of the couch, their texture softer, less dense than ordinary stones.

The spirit stones, their energy drained, were now just… husks.

Poheng lay beside the couch. Touching its hilt, she said, “520, check the Sever Fate progress bar. Five hundred years later.”

520 hesitated, its tone suggesting it already knew the answer. 【Um… current progress: 98.7%. It decreased by 0.02% while you were unconscious.】

Tao Ning, her hand still resting on Poheng’s hilt, stared at the grey stones, lost in thought.

520, rummaging through its database, found this situation wasn’t unusual, but for Tao Ning… it was.

It should have reached 99%. How could it decrease?

After a long silence, Tao Ning sighed. “Never mind. It’s not important. We’ll investigate later.”

She stood up, putting away the spirit jade couch, and opened the door.

It was still dark outside. Shadow City, nestled at the foot of a mountain, was always shrouded in shadows.

With the Thousand-Thread Gu mostly eradicated, the disciples felt safe enough to gather outside, huddled around a fire.

Hearing the door open, they turned.

Pang Xueting, the first to stand, approached Tao Ning. “Senior Tao, you’re awake! Are you feeling alright?”

Tao Ning, her gaze sweeping over the small group, her eyes cold and distant, noticed several young, mortal children hiding behind the cultivators.

Perhaps a trick of the firelight, but her expression was sharp, almost predatory, making them instinctively avoid her gaze.

Pang Xueting, standing closest, felt it most acutely, her heart pounding as Tao Ning’s eyes met hers.

“Where’s my master?”

Pang Xueting quickly replied, “True Person Cen asked me to tell you she’s dealing with the cultivator’s cave. She said it’s where the mother Gu is located, and it needs to be destroyed to prevent the Thousand-Thread Gu from returning.”

Tao Ning nodded. “Did you only find these children in the city?”

The children hadn’t been in the cultivator’s cave, but hidden in the cellar of another abandoned house, the walking corpses bringing them food. Several had fallen ill, only recovering after taking Cen Dianshuang’s pills.

One, a girl in a pink dress with two braids, the daughter of the wealthy man who had hired them, clung to Pang Xueting’s side, peering at Tao Ning with wide, curious eyes.

Pang Xueting, stroking the girl’s hair, replied, “Yes, only these children. Why do you ask, Senior? Are there others trapped in the city?”

Tao Ning, withdrawing her extended spiritual sense, smiled. “No.”

Looking at Pang Xueting, her voice softening slightly, she said, “Stay here. I’m going to find someone.”

Pang Xueting, assuming she was going to find Cen Dianshuang, readily agreed, promising to keep everyone safe.

Tao Ning smiled, a curt nod. “Good.”

“Senior Sister Pang, doesn’t Senior Tao seem… different… since waking up?” a young disciple asked after Tao Ning had left.

Pang Xueting’s face hardened. “The Senior fought all night, slaying countless Gu insects and the Zombie King, then defeating the rogue cultivator, exhausting her spiritual energy before collapsing from exhaustion. She just woke up.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just…” The disciple looked aggrieved, wanting to explain, but struggling to articulate the unsettling feeling.

It was like… the aura of someone struggling with a heart demon.

But he wasn’t sure, unable to distinguish between the influence of a heart demon and residual resentment.

Pang Xueting, not wanting to hear any more, said, “We’re running low on firewood. If you have time, help me dismantle those broken tables and chairs. We need to keep the fire going.”

The disciple, knowing he had upset his senior sister, quickly obeyed.

Pang Xueting didn’t notice that Tao Ning wasn’t heading towards Cen Dianshuang’s location, but towards the western part of the city.

Before its fall, the western district had been the city’s commercial center, its streets and alleyways a maze of buildings, easy to get lost in.

A perfect hiding place.

A figure landed silently on a rooftop, her hand resting on her sword hilt, the full moon casting her shadow against the wall, like a scene from a shadow puppet play.

Below, three voices argued, two female, one male.

Tao Ning recognized one of the female voices: Er Lan, whom she had met briefly at the Hanshan Sect’s outer territory. The other two were unfamiliar.

But she recognized the man’s voice: Xiao Haoran. And the other woman, who kept referring to herself as “Princess,” was the Demonic Beast Realm princess, Chi Xiaxia.

In the original storyline, the protagonist’s vast harem was categorized into ranks: one Empress, two Noble Consorts, four Celestial Consorts, and eight Beauties. Chi Xiaxia was one of the Noble Consorts.

Born with six tails, a sign of exceptional talent among the Chi Fox clan, she was also notoriously playful, often sneaking into the Radiant Realm, her elders’ scolding having little effect.

On his way to Shadow City, Xiao Haoran had rescued Chi Xiaxia, who, trapped in her fox form after being ambushed, had been captured by fur traders.

Xiao Haoran, guided by the Heavenly Book, had arrived just in time, buying her and nursing her back to health. Later, upon entering Shadow City, she had repaid his kindness by protecting him from the walking corpses, revealing her human form.

Er Lan, initially assuming Xiao Haoran had another lead on a treasure, had reluctantly accompanied him to Shadow City, only to discover he had rescued a fox demon.

She recognized Chi Xiaxia as a member of the Chi Fox clan, and specifically, the six-tailed princess.

Secretly, she had been impressed by his luck. Perhaps his claim about obtaining the Wanhun Cauldron wasn’t so far-fetched after all.

This had made her tolerate his… impulsive actions.

They hadn’t revealed their true intentions to each other yet. The princess, assuming Er Lan was Xiao Haoran’s lover, and accustomed to getting her way, was jealous, treating Er Lan with open hostility.

Er Lan, a spy loyal to the Demonic Realm, found the clingy, six-tailed fox, constantly vying for Xiao Haoran’s attention, incredibly annoying. If not for the Demon Lord’s instructions to bring both Xiao Haoran and the Wanhun Cauldron back to the Demonic Realm, she would have eliminated them both.

Their argument ended unresolved, Er Lan, unable to tolerate the princess’s whining any longer, storming out.

“I’ll cultivate elsewhere tonight.”

The princess’s petulant voice echoed after her. “She’s just jealous! Why won’t you come to the Demonic Beast Realm with me? My father can easily help you with your cultivation bottleneck.”

Xiao Haoran’s soothing voice followed, not mentioning that returning to the Demonic Beast Realm wasn’t a good idea right now, simply blaming Er Lan’s behavior on concern, unaware of his true nature, assuming she saw him as a human cultivator.

Er Lan stepped out into the moonlight, then paused, glancing around, a flicker of unease in her eyes.

But the city was quiet, only the distant sounds of Cen Dianshuang’s battle reaching her. No one was watching.

She sighed inwardly. They were too late. Cen Dianshuang had likely taken the Wanhun Cauldron.

Facing Cen Dianshuang directly would be suicide.

Shaking her head, she walked away, seeking a quieter place, away from the annoying fox.

Tao Ning wasn’t interested in killing Er Lan. She was just a pawn, her actions dictated by others.

Poheng’s blade shimmered as she dropped down from the rooftop.

Chi Xiaxia’s voice, sharp and accusatory, echoed from within the house. “You like that Er Lan, don’t you?! That’s why you won’t come to the Demonic Beast Realm with me!”

“Xiaxia, calm down. I…”

“No explanations! I’m leaving!”

Before Xiao Haoran could finish, Chi Xiaxia, transforming into her fox form, jumped out the window.

Xiao Haoran, after a brief, half-hearted pursuit, muttered, “Jealous women are so troublesome.”

The door behind him opened, a gust of wind entering the room.

“Xiaxia, I really didn’t mean… ” He turned, expecting to see the princess, waiting to be coaxed back, but the figure standing in the doorway was unfamiliar.

His hand instinctively went to the saber at his waist. “Who are you?”

Tao Ning, her gaze cold, replied, “You carry the scent of the Demonic Realm.”

It wasn’t Er Lan’s scent. She cultivated spiritual energy, her actions in the Radiant Realm those of a human cultivator.

His secret exposed so easily, Xiao Haoran’s heart pounded. “I can explain.”

The woman’s expression remained impassive, her attack swift and brutal.

Xiao Haoran drew his saber, blocking her strike, the clash of metal echoing through the room. “There’s no need for violence, fellow cultivator. I’m Xiao Haoran, a member of the Hanshan Sect.”

Tao Ning twisted her wrist, deflecting his attack, sparks flying as their blades met, the force of their colliding spiritual energy creating a miniature whirlwind.

Seeing the inner sect disciple token at her waist, he quickly added, “There’s another Hanshan Sect disciple next door. She can vouch for me!”

In a sword fight, agility and precision often trumped brute force.

He had assumed his superior cultivation level and his powerful saber, which had once cleaved a mid-tier Heaven-grade spirit sword in two, would give him the advantage. He was wrong.

Their spiritual energies clashed, and Xiao Haoran, unable to withstand the force, was sent flying, crashing against the wall, the impact shattering his supposedly invincible Golden Core.

My Nascent Soul… it feels… fake.

If Tao Ning knew his thoughts, she would agree.

Of course it felt fake.

He had needed the sacrifice of another Nascent Soul cultivator, the Pleasure House Mistress, to achieve his breakthrough. Now, he would never meet Pang Xueting, the Mistress of the Pleasure House.

There was no Pleasure House Mistress named Pang Xueting. Only a Heavenly Heart Sect disciple.

Xiao Haoran coughed up blood, his meridians shattered, his spiritual core broken. The pain was blinding.

Footsteps approached, and he watched helplessly as the woman in green walked towards him, his body unable to move, his escape routes blocked.

Her sword, glowing with a faint purple light, pierced his already shattered core, extinguishing the last flicker of life within him.

He stared at her, his eyes wide, memorizing her face, his voice a raspy whisper. “Who… are you…?”

As the sword was withdrawn, Tao Ning knelt beside him, two fingers reaching for his forehead.

Panic surged through him. He wasn’t afraid of death. He had a soul-protecting artifact. He would simply regenerate.

But she was targeting his soul. His survival instincts kicked in, a golden light erupting from his forehead, deflecting her attack.

Tao Ning, her fingers tingling, frowned, puzzled.

She tried again, her fingers almost touching his forehead when a gust of wind brushed past her face. She struck out, her palm connecting with something solid.

A cry of pain, and a figure in red tumbled from the window, a concealing artifact rolling across the floor.

Ignoring the pain, Chi Xiaxia, her six crimson tails flaring, their fur bristling like needles, lashing out at Tao Ning, the force of the blow shattering the walls of the small room.

Tao Ning dodged, but the sharp fur grazed her hand, drawing blood. She ignored the wound.

Poheng flashed, severing one of the tails.

Chi Xiaxia, losing a tail, a century of cultivation gone, coughed up blood, her face ashen.

“Leave now, and I’ll spare you. I’m the princess of the Chi Fox clan. I have far more ways to kill you than you, a mere Golden Core cultivator, can imagine.”

“Save your breath,” Tao Ning replied, attacking again.

A few moves later, another tail fell, and Chi Xiaxia, ignoring the pain and the loss of cultivation, focused on survival, throwing a barrage of artifacts at Tao Ning.

She retreated, partially shifting to her fox form, her fingers elongating into claws, their battle seemingly evenly matched, but a sense of dread filled her.

Who is this cultivator? Why is she so strong?

A faint zither melody echoed through the night, and Tao Ning’s attack faltered, giving Chi Xiaxia the opportunity she needed. She lunged, forcing Tao Ning back, then turned, grabbing the unconscious Xiao Haoran.

The teleportation formation on one of her artifacts activated, and they vanished.

“520, check the progress bar,” Tao Ning said, Poheng still humming in her hand, its blade eager for more.

Why did Master stop?

520: 【Current progress: 99%. Increased by 0.03%.】

It was starting to wonder if the mission required the protagonist’s complete and utter demise, but it doubted the criteria were that simple.

Tao Ning, ignoring the numbers, frowned. “The progress bar is still active.”

He was still alive. Killing the protagonist of a cultivation world was proving more difficult than anticipated.

She suspected that even without the zither melody, something else would have happened, allowing Chi Xiaxia to escape with Xiao Haoran.

Glancing at the scratches on her hand, she wondered how to explain them to Cen Dianshuang.

Cen Dianshuang arrived quickly, having sensed the commotion and the surge of demonic energy.

Taking in the scene – the ruined buildings, the two severed fox tails – she asked, “What happened here?”

Tao Ning, hiding her injured hand, smiled brightly. “Master, you came! A demon attacked me. I fought back.”

Circulating her spiritual energy, she healed the scratches on her hand.

Cen Dianshuang’s brow furrowed. “A demon attacked you? Are you injured?”

Before Tao Ning could answer, Cen Dianshuang began examining her, pulling up her sleeves, searching for any hidden wounds.

Tao Ning stood still, her expression innocent, allowing her master to fuss over her. “I’m fine. Unfortunately, the fox demon escaped.”

Cen Dianshuang’s hand, holding Tao Ning’s, suddenly stilled, then she released it, her expression unchanged, pulling down Tao Ning’s sleeve.

“What are your thoughts on demons?”

Tao Ning blinked, then, emboldened by Cen Dianshuang’s subtle encouragement, spoke her mind. “All creatures are born with the potential for both good and evil. Demons are no different. They have their own territory, separate from the Radiant Realm. We coexist peacefully. If a demon living in the Radiant Realm chooses the path of righteousness, there’s no need for eradication.”

She felt like she was knocking on a closed door, unsure if it would ever open.

But it didn’t matter. She could pretend to be oblivious, if necessary.

Cen Dianshuang didn’t respond, unable to before Tao Ning, her spiritual energy depleted once again, collapsed.

Catching her, Cen Dianshuang frowned, checking her pulse before scooping her up.

She expertly adjusted Tao Ning into the most uncomfortable carrying position.

This disciple was… high-maintenance. She needed to bring her back to the Hanshan Sect, where she could keep a closer eye on her. A third incident of spiritual exhaustion would damage her meridians.

The disciples waiting in the courtyard were worried. They had heard the sounds of collapsing buildings and fighting, Tu Shimei reporting seeing massive fox tails.

But Senior Tao had left a protective formation. They dared not enter.

As dawn broke, they finally saw the two figures returning, their posture… unusual.

Senior Tao had left standing. Now, she was being carried by Cen Dianshuang.

Pang Xueting’s mind reeled. What happened?!

Why does Senior Tao keep fainting?

Wait… was that my imagination?

She rubbed her eyes, staring at the returning figures.

Cen Dianshuang, putting Tao Ning down, her gaze lingering on the two white feathers in her disciple’s hair, smiled.

It was a small, subtle smile, but its warmth was undeniable, her eyes shimmering with affection.