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

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 82

    Chapter 82: I Love Slacking Off

    Many people wanted to see what the Mermaid was like, how beautiful she was, whether her tail was dazzling, and if her singing could truly lure people into the deep sea.

    Tao Ning was one of them, though her reasons were different.

    She just wanted to see what the Mermaid looked like.

    This was a futuristic interstellar romance. The female protagonist was a Mermaid, injured and stranded on the shore, rescued by a handsome Major General passing by, thus forming a bond between them.

    The male protagonist, Gu Yuan, was a rare gentle male lead. He had various interactions with the innocent and naive Mermaid, patiently teaching her everything about human society’s rules, healing her injuries, and successfully soothing her anxiety despite the language barrier.

    During a live interstellar broadcast where she had to choose a marriage partner, influenced by the imprinting phenomenon, the female protagonist chose the only person she trusted—Gu Yuan.

    The only Mermaid in the entire Federation choosing Gu Yuan was seen by everyone as a match made in heaven. Their excellent genes were sure to produce even more exceptional offspring.

    The reason Mermaids were so sought after wasn’t just their beautiful appearance, but also their genes, which far surpassed human psychic power.

    Humans had only developed psychic power a few hundred years ago, with the highest level currently being double S-class. However, research indicated that Mermaids from the deep-sea planet had possessed psychic power for far longer than humans, and even their humming carried psychic energy.

    Of course, this was the original world line. Since Tao Ning, an outsider, was needed to intervene in this relationship, it meant the world line had changed.

    There were two significant changes.

    First: The female protagonist wasn’t an innocent and ignorant Mermaid. She was the leader of the Mermaids on the deep-sea planet, and being found stranded on the shore was part of her plan to search for her missing people.

    Second: The female protagonist, being a Mermaid, still retained her animalistic instincts. She had no concept of marrying someone and raising children; she only felt that a strange human was constantly pestering her.

    So, she used her webbed claws, capable of tearing through mecha, to rip open the throat of the Federation’s youngest Major General.

    The final outcome was that the female protagonist became a wanted fugitive and died on her way back to the ocean.

    She refused to comply with human law, choosing imprisonment in a research institute, surrounded by watchful eyes, and forced to choose another mate decades later.

    The Federation, having finally obtained a precious Mermaid, was naturally reluctant to execute her. After careful consideration, they decided to confine her.

    The Mermaid leader would never stay in a cage, having her blood drawn daily for research, so she chose mutual destruction.

    The current world line development had just reached the point where the female protagonist was injured and stranded, discovered by Gu Yuan on a patrol ship, and brought back to the ship.

    The tremors Tao Ning felt in her dream were caused by the ship opening its bay doors to allow the patrol ship to dock and deliver the transport pod containing the Mermaid and seawater to the lower decks.

    Arriving at the lower decks, Tao Ning’s first reaction was: huge.

    The lower decks were vast, equivalent to dozens of large football fields combined. Accommodating a swimming pool-sized transport pod was naturally more than sufficient.

    Almost everyone who could come from the ship had gathered, standing in front of the transparent transport pod, trying to see the mysterious figure swimming within the azure water.

    Suddenly, everyone gasped in unison, catching a glimpse of a flash of ice-blue fishtail. Though only a fleeting glimpse, it sparked endless imagination.

    This was the most beautiful creature humans had ever seen.

    Its magnificence was beyond words; even the most eloquent writer would struggle to describe it.

    Just a glimpse of the fishtail was captivating; it was hard to imagine how breathtaking the full view would be.

    Tao Ning arrived quite late, the front rows already occupied. But even standing on the stairs, she saw the fleeting fishtail.

    An ice-blue fishtail, estimated to be between 2.5 and 3 meters long, including the torso and tail fin.

    The female protagonist, possessing a tail of this length, was definitely an adult, even at her peak fighting age.

    Though the tail fin looked as thin as gauze, it was probably cold and soft to the touch. A single swipe of her tail could send a medium-sized mecha flying.

    The female protagonist had done just that during her escape, one tail swipe per aircraft, one tail swipe per mecha, slippery and impossible to catch.

    “Is that all?”

    “Why didn’t she appear again? I want to see her again.”

    Everyone waited expectantly, but they didn’t see the fishtail a second time. She had concealed herself in the seawater.

    As creatures of the sea, they could hide themselves in the water, making them elusive.

    Sighs of disappointment filled the air. After lingering for a while, everyone dispersed.

    The water gradually calmed down, no longer rippled by the movement of the fishtail. The tail didn’t reappear, as if there was no life within the transport pod, quiet and still.

    Tao Ning didn’t leave. She remained on the stairs, lost in thought, her pale fingertips tapping the railing.

    Haste makes waste. She wanted to see the Mermaid, and she had a mission to complete.

    But with so many people around, and being a stranger to the Mermaid leader, she couldn’t make the noise-sensitive leader show herself.

    If she waited until the pirate attack a few days later, when the female protagonist would appear in panic, it would be too late to complete the mission.

    The current Tao Ning hadn’t considered what to do if her assumption was wrong. It wasn’t so much that she only wanted to complete the task at hand, but rather that she seemed to be avoiding something.

    She turned and headed towards the office of the second-in-command on the ship.

    This First Academy graduation exercise was taking place on a remote planet. An entire ship full of students naturally needed protection, so the Federation dispatched two Major Generals, also using the opportunity for an assessment.

    On this ship, the highest-ranking officer, besides Gu Yuan, was someone else.

    It was Song Man, also a Major General, but with greater seniority and experience than Gu Yuan.

    The Mermaid’s charm was almost irresistible. Song Man wasn’t in her office; she was on the fifth-floor railing, looking down at the calm water.

    The transport pod placed on the lower decks was three stories high and filled with seawater, like a giant blue gem.

    Even with her sharp eyesight, she couldn’t see through the seawater, only a blurry shadow within.

    Compared to the Mermaids Song Man had seen before, the one Gu Yuan brought back seemed even more beautiful.

    As Song Man stood by the railing, reminiscing, Tao Ning immediately noticed her presence.

    So, An He, who had just found Tao Ning, saw the patient hiking up her wide hospital pants and puffing her way up the stairs.

    Due to the exertion so soon after waking up, a blush crept onto her pale cheeks, truly resembling the nickname everyone jokingly called her in private—”Miss Rose.”

    An He: “…” She had never seen her so energetic before.

    Pushing through the surprised crowd, Tao Ning reached the fifth-floor railing. Before she could get close, she was stopped by Major General Song Man’s adjutant and guards.

    “What are you doing here? This isn’t a place for students.” The guard glanced curiously at her hospital gown.

    The guard who stopped her had been stationed with Song Man on remote planets for a long time and didn’t know who she was, let alone that she was the most seriously injured student in the exercise.

    Tao Ning raised her voice: “Reporting to Major General, I have something to report to you, regarding the Mermaid you’re currently observing.”

    These words successfully caught Song Man’s attention. She turned around, letting out a puzzled sound: “Zang Yuzhu?”

    Tao Ning stood calmly, her pale lips slightly pursed: “Major General Song, it’s me.”

    Song Man took a closer look, confirming it was indeed the person who had almost been given a death sentence, whose psychic sea was almost completely destroyed, yet she could still stand.

    She waved her hand, signaling the guard to release Tao Ning.

    Song Man asked, “Zang Yuzhu, shouldn’t you be resting in your ward? Why are you out here?”

    Tao Ning didn’t answer the question, instead bringing up the matter she had just raised: “Major General, based on our research data on Mermaids, this species lives in the deep sea and doesn’t interact with humans. I believe we shouldn’t use a transparent transport pod and gather around discussing, lest we cause the Mermaid distress.”

    No one expected her to say this, and even less expected her words to make sense.

    Everyone was stunned. Song Man and the others subconsciously looked downstairs. Although most people had left, some remained, and others were still arriving, hoping to catch a glimpse.

    The transport pod was made of transparent material, albeit very strong, impossible to break from either inside or outside. However, the constant flow of people was indeed inappropriate.

    This area connected to various parts of the ship; they couldn’t seal it off and prevent people from passing through, as that would cause more trouble.

    Song Man said, “We hadn’t considered this. You’re right. Our research on Mermaid habits is still limited. The Federation has received the news and ordered us to bring the Mermaid back safely, without any mishaps.”

    With Song Man’s order, the transparent transport pod was coated with a color-changing material, making it impossible to see the contents from the outside.

    The shadow that had been almost motionless on the coral at the bottom of the pod stirred. She lifted her eyes, looking at the bustling figures, thinking they wanted to see her.

    A faint smile tugged at the corners of her crimson lips, and her webbed claws deliberately stirred the water.

    Mermaids could hear sounds from thousands of meters away under the sea. No matter how subtle the sounds outside were, she could hear them clearly.

    However, she couldn’t understand them, just as they couldn’t understand the Mermaid language. Their voices were also unpleasant.

    To a Mermaid with an enchanting singing voice, almost no other sound was pleasant; they all seemed noisy and jarring.

    However, the busy figures didn’t react to the change. They looked inside, their gazes not focusing on the interior, but nodding in satisfaction.

    Mermaid: “?”

    Then, they all left.

    Mermaid: “??”

    After a while, after several attempts, the Mermaid understood. These ugly two-legged creatures couldn’t see her anymore.

    The Mermaid leader, who had been forced to stay put on the coral, swam a joyful lap. Staying still in one place was uncomfortable for a Mermaid. Once she found her people and returned to the ocean, she would never come ashore again.

    Being on land wasn’t good at all.

    Plop, plop. A few sounds came from above, as if something had been thrown in.

    The Mermaid swam forward and grabbed one of the objects, examining it before discarding it disdainfully.

    They were fish, still alive, their eyes wide with fear as they wriggled in the Mermaid’s webbed claws, trying to escape her grasp.

    They were quickly released, darting away in a flash.

    Fearing they would be caught and eaten by the ocean’s apex predator.

    The Mermaid’s blue eyes didn’t even bother to follow them.

    She didn’t like eating fish, any kind of fish. This had nothing to do with cannibalism; it was simply her unique taste.

    All Mermaids knew that their leader preferred to eat the fruits that grew in the sea, followed by various starfish wrapped in kelp.

    When the leader was young, some Mermaids teased her about her love for fruit, saying she was a Mermaid without bloodlust. As a result, she chased them down, her webbed claws tearing off many of their scales.

    It was like a rain of scales, the seawater stained red.

    After that, no fish dared to gossip about her. After she became the leader, the tribe members would even search for fruits to offer her as tribute.

    Free from the intense scrutiny, the Mermaid swam back to the coral, bored, reached out a claw, broke off a piece of coral, and nibbled on it.

    Eating coral was better than eating fish. Crunchy and sweet.

    The soldiers who had finished their work were carrying buckets of material back when they saw Gu Yuan approaching. They stopped and saluted: “Major General Gu.”

    Gu Yuan returned the salute, glancing at the now opaque transport pod. He asked, “What are you doing? Why apply a new coating?”

    One of the soldiers replied, “Reporting, sir, this is Major General Song’s order!”

    Song Man? Why would she suddenly give such an order?

    Gu Yuan nodded in understanding: “I see. I’ll go ask her.”

    After hearing Song Man’s explanation, Gu Yuan’s expression showed realization. He agreed, “I wasn’t thorough enough. I actually forgot. You’re more thoughtful.”

    Song Man shook her head: “It was Zang Yuzhu who made the suggestion. I’m just a simple-minded soldier, not as meticulous as you young people. She’s truly a thoughtful child.”

    Gu Yuan was surprised: “Yuzhu is awake? Where is she? I’ll go see her.”

    Song Man said, “After she spoke to me, she fainted from exhaustion. I had my guards escort her back to her dormitory.”

    Gu Yuan immediately put down his unfinished coffee, saying hurriedly, “I’ll go see her.”

    His concern for someone was unusual for him, but no one found it strange because everyone knew Gu Yuan was a good family man.

    Many people were injured during the exercise, but Zang Yuzhu was the most seriously injured, making it difficult for her to be with the others. Gu Yuan, distressed about his cousin, had arranged for her dormitory to be converted into a ward.

    The person who had slipped out at some point was brought back. The accompanying doctor was checking her condition, shocked to find that the person who had been given a critical condition notice this morning was slowly recovering.

    The doctor clicked her tongue, a thought inexplicably popping into her head: No wonder everyone said she was lucky.

    Although she was a war orphan, Zang Yuzhu was truly fortunate. Less than half a month after being sent to the orphanage, she was adopted by the Gu family and raised like a precious jewel.

    The First Academy was incredibly difficult to get into. To follow in her cousin Gu Yuan’s footsteps, she insisted on attending, rejecting the Arts Department and choosing a major that would allow her to go to the battlefield.

    She couldn’t handle the hardships of the Mecha Department, nor the dirt of the Mecha Repair Department, so the Gu family had to help her choose the Command Department, which had lower admission requirements and was considered a support role.

    The Command Department was a fringe major, on the fringes of the military.

    The classes were all theoretical, focusing on analysis and coordination, with very few practical mecha courses, just enough to ensure they could operate one, but not with the same proficiency as Mecha Department students.

    Moreover, truly capable warriors with combat awareness were far superior to commanders who hid behind the lines and analyzed. Where was the need for a commander? They were more of a burden.

    And so, she had shown her incompetence during the graduation exercise.

    And almost died.

    If it weren’t for Gu Yuan’s insistence on searching, and going himself, she might have remained on that desolate planet forever, quietly decaying.

    But she was lucky, she had survived.

    Now, hopefully, this spoiled young lady would recognize her situation, stop being stubborn, and quickly transfer back to the Arts Department.

    With her performance in this graduation exercise, she definitely wouldn’t be able to graduate.

    Many people shared this thought, most on the ship felt the same way, somewhat feeling sorry for Gu Yuan.

    The doctor leaned closer, preparing to examine the patient, and was startled when she unexpectedly met a pair of dark, unfathomable eyes.

    Then she realized that Zang Yuzhu had woken up. Unable to speak, Zang Yuzhu could only urge her with her eyes to open the medical chamber.

    The doctor skillfully opened the medical chamber, suddenly remembering a question: How did Zang Yuzhu, who couldn’t open the medical chamber herself, get out earlier?

    The first thing Tao Ning said after waking up was: “How do I transfer majors to become an aquarium keeper?”

    The pondering doctor: “?” Your brain really is fried, isn’t it?

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 81

    Chapter 81: I Love Slacking Off

    A massive ship sailed through the galaxy. The nebula outside the porthole was dazzling and romantic, a sight to behold.

    It was a pity that the only person inside was critically injured, lying in a capsule-like healing chamber, hovering between life and death.

    Countless medical machines surrounded the lone figure in the healing chamber, closely monitoring her vital signs.

    Time passed slowly. The galaxy gradually receded as the ship advanced. With the disappearance of the brilliant nebula, the vital signs on the medical machines gradually decreased until they reached zero.

    From the moment the machines issued a warning to the complete cessation of vital signs, no medical team appeared in the brightly lit, silver-white ward. It remained quiet, as if a vacuum had sealed the small room.

    Five minutes later, the vital signs declaring death flickered, and the still chest slowly rose and fell.

    The movement was subtle, almost invisible through the glass cover, but it was definitely rising and falling.

    Amidst the tremors, the eyelashes of the sleeping figure in the healing chamber fluttered, and finally, her eyes opened, two physiological tears squeezed out by the bright lights of the room.

    At the same time, an emotionless electronic voice echoed in her mind: [Loading successful!]

    She blinked, clearing the residual drowsiness from her eyes, her gaze instantly becoming sharp.

    As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw her personal data displayed on the glass cover above the healing chamber. Nourished by her soul, the data slowly recovered, approaching that of a weak but living person.

    Tao Ning glanced at it, confirming there were no major issues. After lying there for five minutes, she opened the chamber door, a little clumsily.

    Her body had been lying down for several days, her muscles stiff, her whole being like a malfunctioning robot, neither graceful nor agile.

    Tao Ning could only grip the edges of the healing chamber with both hands, slowly sitting up, her knuckles white from the effort.

    Her flawless, delicate skin revealed that these were hands accustomed to a life of leisure.

    In fact, this was indeed the case. These hands had never worked harder than twisting open a bottle of mecha oil. They were soft and white, without a trace of labor.

    After some effort, Tao Ning sat on the edge of the healing chamber. The chamber was elevated, so her toes still dangled above the floor.

    She didn’t rush to get down. Her dark eyes swept across the room. It wasn’t large, and the furnishings were simple. The setup resembled a student dormitory more than a hospital ward.

    The reason she thought it was a student dormitory was because she saw books pressed under some medicine, the keywords all related to command.

    Her pale feet touched the floor, and for a moment, it was difficult to tell which was colder, her skin or the silver-white flooring.

    520 was still calibrating data. Seeing its newly resurrected host about to get down, trembling like a candle in the wind, it felt a pang of anxiety, fearing she would fall: [Ancestor, why don’t we sit for a while before going out? Shouldn’t we receive the information first?]

    Having spent a long time in the Xianxia world, and constantly hearing those juniors call her “Ancestor,” it had picked up the habit.

    520 couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow. What had time done to it, turning it into something resembling a housekeeper?

    But it knew very well that Tao Ning wasn’t someone whose will could be easily swayed.

    Sure enough, Tao Ning only paused for a moment. She said, “We’ll go over the original host’s personal information later. Give me the world line first.”

    520: [How about lying back down first… Okay, just a moment.] Seeing the host’s stubbornness, it knew persuasion was futile.

    Having gone through the previous world, her soul had been tempered. Tao Ning no longer experienced severe discomfort when receiving the world line; now, she only felt slightly dizzy.

    She could endure this dizziness, and even while enduring it, she found her shoes and put them on, using the furniture to support herself as she practiced walking.

    520 had never seen her so impatient, wanting to advise her but not knowing how.

    After receiving the world line, she could walk normally, though her steps would occasionally falter if she moved too quickly.

    Tao Ning asked, “What’s the date today?”

    The room’s AI announced in a monotonous voice: “Today’s date: New Star Calendar 1101, June 2nd.”

    Tao Ning’s brows furrowed slightly. Her face was pale, and from her appearance, she looked like a delicate beauty: “June 2nd, so the tremors just now were because she boarded the ship.”

    Without bothering to put on a coat, Tao Ning walked out in her white hospital gown, her dark hair swaying around her face.

    The doors of the student dormitories on the ship were supposed to be opened with facial recognition. However, because the original host was seriously injured, the access had been changed to a password for easier access during treatment. She didn’t remember the password, so she used facial recognition to exit.

    The door closed behind her. Tao Ning looked around, having 520 scan the ship’s map. It was too late for the doorway, she decided to check the lower decks.

    After taking a few steps, she looked back at the closed door, where a nameplate hung.

    It displayed the name of the room’s owner—Zang Yuzhu, Command Department.

    The figure supporting herself against the wall gradually disappeared down the corridor.

    Long after she left, another person approached from the opposite direction, draped in a long white coat, strolling slowly.

    They skillfully entered the password, and the door opened.

    Looking at the empty dormitory/ward, the newcomer let out a puzzled hum, asking, “Where is she?”

    Tao Ning’s guess was correct. Down on this level, there were more people.

    There were soldiers in silver-gray uniforms, medics in white coats, and young people in various simple training suits, all gathered together, discussing something in low voices.

    In the interstellar age, human lifespan had increased significantly, with an average age of three hundred years. Essentially, from adulthood to around two hundred years old, they all looked relatively young.

    However, the difference between real soldiers and students could be easily discerned from their posture and demeanor. Students lacked the disciplined air of soldiers who had been in combat for years.

    But their expressions were now much the same, all looking in the same direction with anticipation.

    The only thing that could make everyone’s expression change and fill them with longing was…

    “A Mermaid! I finally get to see one with my own eyes!”

    With so many people crowding around, Tao Ning, who had arrived a step late, couldn’t see anything.

    “It has to be Major General Gu Yuan. He found the Mermaid during a patrol and brought her back.”

    “Well, look at him, the Federation’s youngest Major General. His abilities are undeniable. Good-looking, capable, and with S-level psychic power. Absolutely perfect.”

    “Not exactly perfect though… his cousin is quite…”

    No one finished the sentence, but those who heard it exchanged knowing looks of sympathy.

    Even the most capable people have weaknesses, and Gu Yuan, hailed as the Federation’s dream lover, had a weakness: his particularly troublesome cousin.

    But in most people’s eyes, the existence of his cousin, Zang Yuzhu, only added a touch of sympathy to his otherwise flawless image.

    Tao Ning took a breath, gathering her strength, preparing to take her next step. She wasn’t sure yet, but she had to see for herself to be certain.

    Amidst the excited chatter, several puzzled voices called out from behind: “Zang Yuzhu? Is that really you, Zang Yuzhu?”

    The person walking ahead ignored them, continuing to move forward while supporting herself against the wall.

    This disregard annoyed the caller, who strode forward: “Why aren’t you answering when I’m talking to you, Zang Yuzhu…?”

    She reached out to grab the swaying figure, but before her hand touched the thin shoulder, it was caught by a cold hand and twisted outwards.

    Tao Ning turned her head, giving her a cold glance: “What do you want?”

    Tina froze, stunned by the hostile look.

    The tall woman who followed frowned slightly, disapprovingly calling out, “Tina, she just woke up from a life-threatening injury.”

    “I didn’t even touch her, and she grabbed my hand…” Tina struggled, unable to pull her wrist free from the grip, her expression gradually becoming blank.

    She, a mecha mechanic with A-level psychic power, couldn’t pull her hand back from a frail, sickly patient?

    Her mind momentarily short-circuited as Tina stared at the hand. If she remembered correctly, just a few days ago, this hand couldn’t even open a bottle of mecha lubricant, and its soft, reddened palm had been held out with a coquettish pout, complaining of being hurt.

    What the hell, was this Zang Yuzhu?

    Had the delicate rose grown thorns?

    Two more girls in silver-white training suits approached, nameplates pinned to their chests. Tao Ning didn’t recognize any of them, but they seemed to know the original host, even quite well.

    Tao Ning had to suppress her impatience and respond patiently. She didn’t have the original host’s memories, so it was best to say as little as possible.

    The crowd gathered at the top of the stairs had all gone down, wanting a closer look at the rare Mermaid.

    For a moment, only the frail patient and the three First Academy students who had just come out of the simulation training room remained near the stairwell.

    “Zang Yuzhu, what are you doing here?” The tall woman with “An He” and “Mecha Department” on her nameplate spoke first.

    Judging by their positions, An He seemed to be the leader of the group, or at least a central figure like a captain.

    Tao Ning’s face was pale. She said, “I’m sorry, my head is still dizzy. I woke up and found no one in the room, so I came out to take a look.”

    Captain An He’s expression became more serious: “How could there be no one watching over you in your room?”

    Tina was still staring at her hand in disbelief. She now even wanted to rush back to the repair room and lift a wrench to prove that her strength hadn’t regressed during training.

    Another girl, also from the Mecha Department, said, “Maybe they all went to see the Mermaid.”

    Crossing her arms and sneering, she looked Tao Ning up and down, saying, “Shouldn’t you be resting in your room waiting for the doctor to come back? Don’t complain again if you get hurt that the doctor isn’t providing you with personal care. Medical resources on the ship aren’t exactly abundant.”

    The first sentence was directed at the others, but the rest was aimed at Tao Ning.

    Her name was Song Fangzhou, also from the Mecha Department.

    Tao Ning lowered her eyelashes and remained silent. Ignoring what she might have done before, just looking at her face, it was hard to feel any blame towards her.

    An He couldn’t bear it. She said, “You can’t be left unattended in your condition. Let’s take you back to your dormitory.”

    She stepped forward, supporting Tao Ning’s thin arm with a gentle but firm grip.

    No matter how capable a person was, after suffering a near-fatal injury that almost destroyed their psychic sea, and surviving only on nutrient solution in a healing chamber, they should be weak and frail, let alone someone like Zang Yuzhu who had grown up pampered.

    Tao Ning grabbed her wrist, her pale lips uttering a weak voice, “No, I want to see…”

    Song Fangzhou, even more impatient than Tina, interrupted her, unwilling to listen to the faint voice: “Don’t tell me you’re dragging your sick body out here to see your dear cousin? Miss Yuzhu, you’re truly touching.”

    Coming from a military family, Song Fangzhou naturally had no interest in Gu Yuan. She simply disliked people like Zang Yuzhu.

    Disobedient, afraid of hardship, almost endangering her teammates, lacking a sense of cooperation—these were all things Song Fangzhou couldn’t tolerate.

    This wasn’t a ladies’ tea party where only the beauty of power was appreciated, not the beauty of appearance. One should fulfill their duties. Since she chose the battlefield, she shouldn’t bring her bad habits along.

    Tao Ning straightened up, pushing An He’s hand away. She gave a faint smile: “No, I’m here to see you.”

    Song Fangzhou was taken aback by the smile.

    Even though her beauty had faded after being ravaged by illness, there wasn’t a trace of vulnerability in her demeanor.

    Tao Ning turned and walked downstairs, leaving the others momentarily frozen, forgetting to stop her.

    520 sighed inwardly, thinking: I wouldn’t dare provoke a twice-widowed woman, but you guys are lining up to be dealt with.

    After a while, Song Fangzhou asked in confusion, “What did she mean? Was she flirting with me?”

    Tina hummed, “Maybe.”

    Song Fangzhou rolled up her sleeves, her eyebrows furrowing: “No way, I have to go and have a good talk with her. She doesn’t seem to have any remorse.”

    A hand stopped her. Looking over, it was Captain An He who had reached out.

    An He said, “She’s already suffered a serious injury, almost died. We’re all safe and sound, isn’t that punishment enough for her?”

    Song Fangzhou was speechless. She pulled the dazed Tina along and headed downstairs.

    A rare Mermaid, a sight not to be missed.

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 80

    Chapter 80: Disciple and Wife (End)

    “I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’ll never do it again. Please, change back.”

    A soft, pleading voice, like a lover’s murmur, echoed through the quiet courtyard.

    A flock of sparrows perched on the wall, their heads tilted, observing the scene within.

    A woman in elaborate robes sat on the veranda, her back to them, her long, dark hair loosely gathered with a single ribbon.

    Either she was a late riser, or simply… lazy. Her robes were also disheveled, the outer layer slipping off one shoulder, revealing the thin undergarment beneath.

    Before her stood a half-person-tall coral bird stand, a small, fluffy white bird perched on top.

    The bird, a rare and unusual creature, not native to the mortal realm, had a single crimson feather on its left wing.

    It ignored the small, ice-blue spirit fruit offered to it, its eyes closed, its feathers ruffled in a silent sulk.

    It refused to open its eyes, fearing the sight of the woman’s face would summon another torrential downpour over the unsuspecting capital.

    Tao Ning, however, was quick to apologize, her sincerity, if not her remorse, undeniable.

    “I know it was wrong. I just… I couldn’t help myself…”

    The Shangxi bird’s every feather screamed, I’m not listening! Lalala!

    The only response was the incessant chirping of the sparrows outside. The bird before her remained motionless.

    Shangxi birds, revered as divine creatures in the Demonic Beast Realm, attracted other birds wherever they went.

    The neighbors had noticed the increased avian activity, the constant chirping, the early morning bird conferences.

    Today was especially crowded, even a few escaped pet parrots with golden chains on their legs joining the gathering.

    Tao Ning sighed, shielding the sulking bird with her sleeve, turning to glare at the onlookers, waving her other sleeve dismissively. “There’s nothing to see here. Go away.”

    The colorful flock of birds chirped in response.

    Tao Ning, not understanding their language, assumed she was being mocked.

    The Shangxi bird’s vision darkened as Tao Ning draped her sleeve over it, her voice echoing softly.

    “If you don’t leave, I’ll resort to… less gentle methods.”

    Whether it was her tone, or the implied threat, the birds scattered, leaving behind a few stray feathers.

    Tao Ning turned back, muttering, “Honestly, don’t they have their own… companions…? So rude, staring at someone else’s.”

    The Shangxi bird: …Childish.

    It remained motionless, its eyes still closed.

    520, unable to bear it any longer, said, 【I told you! Pull your robe down further! Expose your shoulder! Who seduces someone in a plain white undergarment?!】 While unsure what Tao Ning had done to offend the bird, it considered itself an expert in such matters, its extensive knowledge of dramas and romance novels a valuable resource.

    Tao Ning: “…”

    Having exhausted all other options, she hesitantly placed her hand on her shoulder, sliding the fabric downwards. “Like this?”

    520, exasperated: 【With a little more enthusiasm!】

    Just as she was about to comply, she felt a gaze on her, and she turned, abandoning her attempts at seduction, her eyes meeting the Shangxi bird’s, which were now open, fixed on the sliver of exposed skin above her collarbone.

    The birds watching from the nearby trees saw the woman who had just shooed them away suddenly scoop up the white bird and disappear inside, the door closing softly behind them.

    A few bolder birds flew closer, peering curiously at the closed door.

    No entry. How stingy.

    Inside, the room was much quieter. Cen Dianshuang, finally coaxed back into her human form, was gently pushed onto the bed.

    Her clothes were neat, her hair still perfectly styled. Tao Ning, however, looked like a seductive fox spirit, her robes disheveled, her lips curved into a playful smile.

    Cen Dianshuang sometimes wondered who was the true demon.

    Tao Ning’s robes pooled around them, the soft rustle of silk accompanying her movements as she leaned closer, her voice a husky whisper. “Perhaps we should try…”

    The rest of the sentence was whispered into Cen Dianshuang’s ear, her warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

    Cen Dianshuang’s face flushed crimson, her voice a stammering whisper. “But… but we already… dual cultivated… last night…”

    Tao Ning’s lips brushed against hers, her words a soft murmur against Cen Dianshuang’s mouth. “We haven’t tried… spiritual communion.”

    Some time later, Tao Ning, still only partially dressed, leaned against the headboard, recounting her various misdeeds, offering no promises of reform.

    The figure under the covers remained motionless, avoiding Tao Ning’s gaze, the memory of her arms around Tao Ning’s neck, her whispered pleas, still too… embarrassing.

    Such a lack of self-control…


    Days after the Mid-Autumn Festival, Princess Changping was still haunted by the image she had seen.

    “I wasn’t drunk! I really saw immortals!”

    A maid, offering a plate of fruits, suggested gently, “If you wish to find them, Princess, perhaps you could draw their portraits? The guards can search for them.”

    Silence fell over the room.

    The maid: …? Did I say something wrong? She was new to the princess’s service, unaware of her mistress’s exceptional artistic talent, her paintings often praised as “divine works.”

    Princess Changping, however, was struck by inspiration. “That’s a brilliant idea!”

    She clapped her hands excitedly. “Someone bring me my brushes and ink! I’ll paint their portraits myself!”

    The maids, who had seen the princess’s previous works: “…Yes, Princess.”

    They hurried to prepare the materials, their minds already composing elaborate praises for the princess’s artistic genius.

    Their expectations, however, were unmet. The princess, after a few frustrated attempts, threw down her brush, her face pressed against the railing, her gaze fixed on the street below.

    “Immortals! The immortals I told you about!”

    Below, Tao Ning and Cen Dianshuang strolled through the streets, Tao Ning’s wide sleeve concealing their clasped hands.

    “I heard the Qujiang Restaurant has a new chef, with many unique dishes. Let’s try them.”

    While mortal food couldn’t compare to the spirit-infused cuisine of the Radiant Realm, experiencing the local flavors was part of the adventure.

    Cen Dianshuang, mentally calculating the number of cleansing pills she would need upon their return, agreed. “Alright.”

    She had never been interested in anything beyond cultivation, but now, she found herself enjoying these mundane experiences… simply because Tao Ning was there.

    “No wonder so many Radiant Realm cultivators struggle with the Path of No Emotions. If it were me, I would also abandon it.”

    Tao Ning chuckled, then turned to the approaching innkeeper, who greeted them with a smile. “Your private room is ready, honored guests. Please, follow me.”

    Just as they were about to follow him, a voice called out from the stairs. “Please wait!”

    Two maids, their attire more elaborate than typical servants, jade tokens bearing the characters “Changping” hanging at their waists, hurried down the stairs.

    Even their servants were dressed like noblewomen. Their mistress must be someone of high status.

    Tao Ning and Cen Dianshuang turned, Tao Ning’s gaze lingering on the jade tokens. “What can we do for you, ladies?”

    The taller maid replied, “Our mistress invites you to a banquet.”

    Tao Ning, exchanging a look with Cen Dianshuang, her eyebrow arching slightly, echoed, “Mistress?”


    In a private room, Princess Changping, adjusting her appearance in the mirror, asked anxiously, “Is this… appropriate?”

    A maid reassured her. “You look stunning, Princess. You won’t disappoint your guests.”

    Hearing approaching footsteps, Princess Changping jumped to her feet, almost opening the door herself.

    As the door opened, she froze, her gaze fixed on the two figures before her, then, composing herself, her cheeks flushing slightly, she said, “Forgive my rudeness.”

    “I was captivated by your… ethereal presence that night. I’m overjoyed to meet you again. It’s… a dream come true.”

    On their way upstairs, Tao Ning had discreetly relayed Princess Changping’s background to Cen Dianshuang.

    Her mother was the current Empress, her brother the Crown Prince, yet she yearned for adventure, her attempts to explore the world beyond the palace walls always thwarted.

    Her last attempt, ending with a false accusation of theft, had been so humiliating that she had reported the incident to the magistrate herself, her dreams of adventure crushed.

    Tao Ning smiled politely. “It’s our honor to receive your invitation, Princess.”

    Princess Changping, seeing her maids’ surprised expressions, realized they hadn’t revealed her identity. “How did you know I was the princess?”

    Tao Ning: “Your reputation precedes you, Princess. Your fondness for making new acquaintances is well known.”

    She had a habit of gathering information wherever she went, her knowledge of local customs and influential figures now encyclopedic.

    Even a random stranger on the street… she could likely recite their life story.

    Cen Dianshuang had only recently discovered this, but wasn’t surprised.

    Tao Ning, regardless of her surroundings, always found a way to excel, even in the mortal realm.

    Princess Changping clapped her hands delightedly. “I like your directness! Refreshing!”

    Gesturing towards the table, she said, “Please, be seated.”

    They sat down, their actions so natural, so unassuming, that even the palace maids didn’t question their audacity.

    Once they were seated, the servants began serving the dishes.

    Princess Changping, eager to make a good impression, had even revealed her name.

    Her eyes shone with curiosity. “You both seem… extraordinary. I’ve never seen such… elegance… Are you… from a… secluded sect, perhaps?”

    Before Tao Ning could answer, she continued, her excitement growing. “Judging by your demeanor, it must be a prominent sect. Only years of leadership could cultivate such… presence.”

    Cen Dianshuang, looking at her eager, expectant expression, was reminded of the younger disciples at the Hanshan Sect.

    Except they wouldn’t dare smile so freely in her presence, their expressions always carefully respectful.

    Princess Changping was talkative, but her youthful enthusiasm was endearing, not annoying.

    Cen Dianshuang: “We’re from the Hanshan Sect.”

    Princess Changping blinked. “Hanshan Sect? Is that… far from the capital?”

    Tao Ning and Cen Dianshuang exchanged a look, then smiled.

    This princess was amusing. She didn’t ask if it was a minor sect, but if it was far away.

    As a princess, especially one interested in the world beyond the palace walls, she would surely know the names of the major sects.

    Tao Ning nodded. “Quite far.”

    Princess Changping: “Then your journey must have been arduous.”

    Cen Dianshuang: “Not really.”

    Wanting to enjoy the scenery, they hadn’t rushed, traveling sometimes on puppet horses, sometimes flying, their journey leisurely.

    Princess Changping, a mortal, couldn’t comprehend the concept of cultivators flying, assuming it was simply exceptional lightness skill. But even the most skilled martial artists experienced fatigue. She assumed they were simply being polite.

    Tao Ning, seeing the princess’s thoughtful expression, knew what she was thinking, taking a slow sip of her tea.

    The imperial cuisine was, indeed, of exceptional quality.

    Princess Changping: “You seem close. Senior sisters, perhaps?”

    Cen Dianshuang’s expression turned complicated.

    Princess Changping, despite her youth, was perceptive, her years in the palace honing her ability to read people. “No? Then… what is your relationship?”

    Two voices, spoken simultaneously.

    Cen Dianshuang: “Grand Ancestor.”

    Tao Ning: “Master.”

    Princess Changping: “Huh?” That’s… confusing.

    Tao Ning coughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “We didn’t intend to reveal this, but since you’ve been so kind, Princess, and we feel a certain connection…”

    Cen Dianshuang, glancing away, recognized the mischievous glint in Tao Ning’s eyes. She was about to do something regrettable.

    Tao Ning continued, her voice soft and sincere, “We’re Dao companions.”

    Princess Changping stared at them, speechless, the revelation unexpected.

    After a long moment of stunned silence, she suddenly exclaimed, slapping the table excitedly, “I understand! Your sect forbade your relationship! They exiled you!”

    Tao Ning choked on her tea. “Cough! Cough!”

    She hadn’t expected the princess, after such a long pause, to arrive at that conclusion.

    Cen Dianshuang: …This princess has quite the imagination. She handed Tao Ning a handkerchief, a faint smile playing on her lips. Let’s see how you handle this.

    Tao Ning, accepting the handkerchief, her sleeve concealing her mouth as she wiped away the spilled tea, shook her head, unwilling to speak further, not wanting to stain her robes and unable to use a cleansing technique without revealing her true nature.

    Princess Changping, interpreting this as confirmation, felt a pang of sympathy.

    She struggled to find the right words, eventually offering some words of comfort. “It’s alright. If your sect doesn’t accept you, there are others who will. You’re both extraordinary. Your departure is their loss, not yours.”

    Tao Ning smiled. “You’re very kind, Princess.”

    Princess Changping, slightly embarrassed, replied, “Am I? I think so too.”

    Cen Dianshuang, hiding her smile behind her teacup, enjoyed Tao Ning’s rare moment of awkwardness.

    Life was full of surprises. Some strangers remained strangers, while others became instant friends.

    Princess Changping, finding their company delightful, their conversation refreshingly honest and insightful, invited them to a chrysanthemum appreciation banquet a few days later.

    They readily accepted.

    The princess, delighted, instructed her servants to prepare a special, secluded area for her new friends, ensuring their comfort.

    The day after the banquet, Princess Changping, having recovered from the festivities, received a letter, delivered by a maid.

    “The two ladies are gone, Princess. They left these behind.”

    A letter and a small vial.

    The letter was brief, thanking her for her hospitality, expressing their enjoyment of her company, and announcing their departure. Assuming the princess lacked nothing, they wished her a long and healthy life.

    Princess Changping sighed, folding the letter carefully. “A pity. Perhaps our paths will cross again.”

    Years later, she would still remember them, regretting their missed opportunity for future gatherings.

    But she imagined them traveling the world, eventually settling down in a peaceful, secluded place.

    Together, until the end of their days.

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 79

    Chapter 79: Disciple and Wife

    On the edge of the Radiant Realm, beyond a towering mountain range, lay the lower realm, its spiritual energy thin and weak.

    The mortals below, however, didn’t consider themselves inhabitants of a “lower realm,” nor did they call their world the Radiant Realm. That name existed only in ancient texts.

    This was a world of kings and nobles, of merchants and scholars, ruled by the Southern Zhou Dynasty, its current emperor surnamed Qi.

    The mountain before them, its peaks shrouded in mist, its depths unseen, its height immeasurable, was a place of mystery and legend.

    Zhouguan Mountain, a thousand feet tall, its summit piercing the clouds, its slopes stretching beyond sight.

    Legends spoke of a hidden paradise beyond the mountain, a realm of immortals, but no one who ventured into its depths ever returned.

    Some claimed they had ascended, becoming immortals themselves. Others, more pragmatic, assumed they had simply perished, their bodies nourishing the mountain’s flora.

    A woodcutter, his mind filled with his ancestors’ tales, walked towards the mountain’s foot.

    He wouldn’t dare venture further, his activities confined to the lower slopes, where a peach orchard bloomed every spring, its blossoms a cloud of pink, a breathtaking sight.

    The mountain belonged to no one, its flowers and trees free for the taking, which was why he dared to gather firewood here, selling it to support his family.

    Sometimes, he was lucky, his traps catching a rabbit or a pheasant, their pelts sold, their meat a welcome addition to his meager meals.

    Today, however, his luck had run out. The trap was empty, only the bait gone.

    He frowned, disappointed, resetting the trap before continuing his search for firewood, humming a local ballad about a mad scholar. “The scholar, failing the imperial exams once again, threw down his books, declaring his intention to become an immortal, venturing into Zhouguan Mountain… Huh?”

    He stopped mid-song, pushing aside a thorny bush, his eyes widening in disbelief.

    The peach trees were in full bloom, their blossoms a vibrant pink, their fragrance filling the air, a delicate mist swirling around them, transforming the orchard into a fairyland.

    But it was late autumn, nearing the Mid-Autumn Festival. Peach blossoms shouldn’t be blooming.

    Even more surprising than the out-of-season blossoms was the crystal palace at the center of the orchard, its elegant design and intricate carvings seemingly unnatural.

    Unlike the opulent, human-made palaces of the mortal world, this structure seemed otherworldly, its beauty beyond human craftsmanship.

    His axe slipped from his grasp, landing on the ground with a thud.

    He gasped, bending down to retrieve his axe, then turned and ran.

    Such a miraculous sight! He had to report it to the magistrate! He would be rewarded!

    After a few steps, he stumbled, his eyes closing as he collapsed.

    A rustling sound, and a young woman in green robes emerged from the trees, her skirt brushing against the grass without disturbing a single blade.

    Immense power, yet a gentle touch.

    She stopped beside the unconscious woodcutter, a flicker of light as she touched his forehead, his expression relaxing.

    Her voice, soft and melodious, echoed through the quiet orchard. “My apologies. You can’t tell anyone about this. Consider it a dream.”

    Another voice, coming from above, said, “I thought this place was deserted. That woodcutter almost saw us.”

    Tao Ning looked up at the figure perched on a branch. “With us here, no one will find this place.”

    Cen Dianshuang didn’t argue, extending her hand. Tao Ning, understanding, stepped forward, catching her as she jumped down.

    Cen Dianshuang, glancing at the woodcutter, who was starting to stir, said, “Perhaps we should leave. We’ve crossed the boundary. We should return immediately.”

    A few days after declaring her intention to travel the world, they had departed.

    Their journey was aimless, their destination determined by the spirit boat’s whims, their days spent exploring the world below.

    Then, during a night of meditation, they had inadvertently crossed the boundary between the upper and lower realms, the sudden decrease in spiritual energy eventually alerting them to their mistake.

    It was nighttime. The darkness concealed their presence, preventing widespread panic.

    Cen Dianshuang was puzzled. The boundary between the realms was said to be impenetrable, accessible only through special means. How had they crossed it so easily?

    Tao Ning, her expression innocent, replied, “I didn’t know the spirit boat could bypass the boundary.”

    Cen Dianshuang, after a moment of thought, couldn’t fault Tao Ning, simply concluding, “A Mahayana cultivator’s creation is truly remarkable.”

    Blaming the spirit boat, not its creator, Cen Dianshuang, noticing the peach blossoms below, had suggested staying for a while. It was a secluded spot, and a few days wouldn’t hurt. Tao Ning had agreed.

    Now, however, their quiet retreat had been disturbed by a woodcutter.

    Cen Dianshuang sighed, her plans disrupted. “Perhaps we should leave. The mortals here don’t know about cultivators. Our presence could cause unnecessary complications.”

    Tao Ning: “We’re already here. There’s no rush.”

    Cen Dianshuang: “Not leaving? Then where are we going?”

    Tao Ning, her wide sleeve slipping down, revealing a silver ingot, smiled. “To the mortal realm.”

    For an artifact refiner, carrying precious metals wasn’t unusual. Gold and silver, currency in the mortal world, were simply raw materials, her storage ring filled with enough to last them a while.

    The crystal palace vanished from the mountain, replaced by two elegantly dressed noblewomen entering the city gates.

    As they disappeared into the city, the woodcutter, still lying on the ground, his eyes fluttering open, sat up, rubbing his eyes, his mind still foggy.

    Looking at the familiar scenery, he muttered, “How did I fall asleep here?”

    Two lines of people waited at the city gates: ordinary citizens on foot and wealthier travelers in carriages, accompanied by servants.

    Cen Dianshuang sat inside the carriage, her body swaying slightly with the rhythmic movement, her expression radiating discomfort.

    Accustomed to the smooth, steady flight of her sword, the confines of the carriage felt restrictive.

    Like a bird trapped in a cage, she forced herself to remain still.

    Tao Ning, sitting beside her, thought, Next time, we’re riding horses. We don’t need a carriage.

    Cen Dianshuang: “I’ve heard that cultivators, upon reaching a certain realm, can imbue puppets with spirits, making them as lifelike as humans, though their movements and expressions are still… stiff. A semblance of life, but lacking true sentience…”

    A voice interrupted her. “Here are our travel permits, sir. Please inspect them.”

    A moment of silence, then a gruff voice. “The Qiyang Tao Clan… Proceed.”

    As they passed through the gates, Cen Dianshuang continued, “But these puppets… they’re surprisingly lifelike. Another one of your creations?”

    Tao Ning, parting the carriage curtains, her gaze sweeping over the bustling street, a faint smile playing on her lips, replied, “A little something I made in my spare time. It seems they’re quite useful.”

    Cen Dianshuang also peered out the window. “This mortal realm… it’s different. Barely any spiritual energy… What are they doing? Carrying those colorful strips of cloth?”

    Tao Ning, her spiritual sense briefly encompassing the entire city, its secrets laid bare before her, replied, “Preparing for the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

    The term was unfamiliar. Cen Dianshuang hadn’t heard of it in the Radiant Realm. “What’s the Mid-Autumn Festival?”

    Tao Ning explained, their conversation drifting from family reunions to the taste of mooncakes, to the pleasures of boating on a moonlit lake, enjoying the festive lights and fireworks.

    The Southern Zhou Dynasty, blessed with three generations of wise rulers, enjoyed peace and prosperity, its citizens well-fed and courteous, even the remote cities celebrating the festival with the same enthusiasm as the capital.

    As they approached a small city, the puppet coachman shrunk to the size of a bean, disappearing into Tao Ning’s spatial sleeve, replaced by puppet horses.

    While this realm lacked spiritual energy, they weren’t concerned about depletion. With their cultivation levels, a single misstep could obliterate the entire Southern Zhou Dynasty.

    On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, they arrived in the capital, its streets even more bustling than the previous cities.

    The Southern Zhou Dynasty’s social customs were relatively relaxed, noblewomen often seen strolling through the streets, their faces veiled in white silk.

    Cen Dianshuang, after a brief, curious glance, paid them no mind.

    She too wore the local fashion, her red beauty mark and serene expression, like a Guanyin statue, giving her an ethereal aura, even amidst the noisy crowds.

    Unbeknownst to her, she was also being observed.

    The capital, a hub of commerce and diplomacy, attracted visitors from distant lands, but these two elegant women were unfamiliar, their presence sparking curiosity.

    Before anyone could approach, however, they vanished into the crowd.

    A servant, reporting their disappearance, was met with a sigh of disappointment from behind a screen. “Gone so soon? What a pity. I wanted to make their acquaintance. Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.”

    Tao Ning and Cen Dianshuang reappeared in a quiet side street, Tao Ning opening a small paper bag.

    “Freshly made osmanthus cake. It’s the perfect season. Try some.”

    Cen Dianshuang took a bite, savoring the sweet flavor. They quickly finished the small package, continuing their stroll.

    Mortal food was a burden for cultivators, but they were prepared, their return to the Radiant Realm a promise of cleansing pills and spiritual herbs.

    A Mahayana and a Soul Transformation cultivator, revered figures in the Radiant Realm, were now exploring the mortal world with the wide-eyed wonder of novices.

    With no other cultivators present, they could shed their usual aloofness, their behavior more relaxed and playful.

    It was the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, but they had arrived too late. The best viewing spots for the fireworks display were already taken, even the lakeside tea stalls fully booked. They had heard that later, the crowds would release lanterns onto the lake, the queue stretching for miles.

    Tao Ning, however, simply smiled. “I have a plan.”

    Cen Dianshuang, her hand clasped in Tao Ning’s, chuckled softly. “What plan?”

    Tao Ning, her eyes twinkling mischievously, replied, “You’ll see.”

    As night fell, Cen Dianshuang, concealed by a spell, found herself on the roof of a large, elaborately decorated pleasure boat.

    Looking down at the city lights spread out before her, she turned to Tao Ning, her expression questioning. This is your plan?

    Tao Ning, shaking her head, asked, “Do you know who reserved this boat?”

    Cen Dianshuang: “Who?”

    Tao Ning: “The Imperial Chancellor. He has impeccable taste. We’re simply borrowing his roof. We won’t cause any trouble.”

    She patted a nearby cushion. “Come, sit. The fireworks display will start soon. I heard they’re also performing ‘molten iron flowers’ for the Chancellor when the boat docks.”

    Cen Dianshuang sat down, smoothing her skirt, then tilted her head curiously. “I know what fireworks are, but… molten iron flowers?”

    Tao Ning: “Mortals, despite their lack of cultivation, are remarkably creative. They can achieve many things without relying on spiritual energy.”

    With a wave of her sleeve, a small table appeared before them, laden with spiritual tea and fruits, a simple yet elegant spread compared to the Chancellor’s lavish banquet below.

    Below, the Chancellor’s guests enjoyed the festivities, unaware of the two figures on the roof above them, enjoying the moonlit view.

    Cen Dianshuang, however, missed the “molten iron flowers” performance. She was distracted.

    By the person beside her, whose smile, bathed in moonlight, was breathtaking.

    Tao Ning pulled Cen Dianshuang closer, their lips meeting in a deep, lingering kiss.

    The pleasure boat, having reached its destination, slowed down, and the artisans, their movements synchronized with the rhythmic beat of a drum, began their performance.

    The shower of sparks, a dazzling display of light and color, drew gasps of admiration from the onlookers below, coins and ingots raining down on the performers.

    If they had stayed, they would have witnessed the entire performance, its beauty distinct from the fireworks exploding in the sky above.

    But the rooftop was now empty.

    In a nearby tower, a young woman in elaborate robes sat by the window, her gaze drifting across the bustling river, its activity no longer holding her interest.

    Suddenly, she straightened up, her eyes widening as she saw two figures floating across the moonlit rooftops, their hands clasped, their laughter echoing softly in the night air.

    Their movements were graceful and effortless, like celestial beings descending from the heavens, gracing the mortal world with their presence before departing.

    The young woman, mesmerized, watched until they disappeared, then turned to her maid. “Did you see that? Immortals! They looked just like the two I asked you to find today.”

    The maid, looking out the window, smiled. “Princess, you must be drunk. There were no immortals.”

    The princess, catching the scent of wine on her sleeve, her eyes still filled with wonder, murmured, “Was it… a dream?”


    The immortals, their departure unnoticed, returned to their temporary residence, the city’s noise and activity fading behind them.

    The quiet courtyard amplified every sound.

    Cen Dianshuang, for the first time, found her enhanced hearing inconvenient.

    Tao Ning’s voice, soft and close to her ear, broke the silence. “You owe me a bottle of wine.”

    Cen Dianshuang, blinking back tears, her mind still foggy from the wine and the kiss, her breath catching in her throat, asked, “When did I… owe you wine?”

    Tao Ning chuckled softly. “You forget so easily. The Three Lives Dream from the City Lord. You promised to share it with me.”

    Her fingers traced the curve of Cen Dianshuang’s back, her skin still damp from the bath, smooth and cool like pearls.

    “My back… it feels… strange…” Cen Dianshuang, her attention focused on the unfamiliar sensations, her brow furrowed, murmured, “My back…”

    Tao Ning leaned closer, her ear brushing against Cen Dianshuang’s lips. “What?”

    A flash of white, a rustling sound, and something unfolded.

    A pair of snow-white wings, emerging from Cen Dianshuang’s back, their long feathers brushing against the bedsheets, scattering her discarded clothes.

    The sight made Tao Ning’s breath catch in her throat, the pressure of Cen Dianshuang’s hand on her shoulder, now surprisingly strong, almost painful, forgotten.

    The wings, seemingly unaccustomed to being summoned in this form, fluttered experimentally, their soft feathers brushing against the fabric.

    Cen Dianshuang touched her shoulder, her fingers hesitant, her long eyelashes wet with tears. “I… I can’t retract them.”

    Tao Ning, a wave of guilt washing over her, thought, I went too far.

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 78

    Chapter 78: Disciple and Wife

    That day, Tao Ning departed the Hanshan Sect in full view of the assembled cultivators, leaving behind a single, fleeting image.

    Her actions sparked countless rumors and speculations throughout the Radiant Realm, those unaware of her true identity stunned by the revelations.

    The unknown Mahayana cultivator who had perished in the tribulation decades ago was actually the infamous Demon Lord Qingji. And now, she had returned, alive and well, not only surviving the tribulation but also revealed as the Grand Ancestor of the Hanshan Sect.

    The owner of the Curious Tales Pavilion had once been a failed scholar. At thirty, he had stumbled upon a cultivation opportunity, entering the upper realm of the Radiant Realm.

    The Radiant Realm wasn’t solely populated by cultivators. It was divided into two distinct realms: the upper realm, where cultivators resided, and the lower realm, a world of mortals, ruled by kings and nobles, its spiritual energy thin, unsuitable for cultivation.

    The scholar’s true talent lay not in academics or cultivation, but in storytelling. Arriving in the upper realm alone, seeking a way to survive, he began writing stories.

    The cultivators, focused solely on their cultivation, initially dismissed his efforts, unaware of the power of stories. But he persevered, eventually achieving renown.

    Thus, the Curious Tales Pavilion was born.

    Recently, the pavilion had been attracting large crowds.

    A cultivator, tossing a spirit stone onto the stage, called out, “So, whose ancestor is Qingji? The Hanshan Sect’s, or the Demonic Realm’s?”

    The storyteller hesitated. “Both, perhaps?”

    Another cultivator, younger and more eager, asked, “Now that her cultivation is restored, will she return to the Demonic Realm, reclaim her throne, and punish the traitors?”

    The storyteller: “The traitors are already dead. Slain at the foot of the Hanshan Sect’s mountain. Rivers of blood, cries of anguish… It was a glorious sight!”

    From a private booth on the second floor, a cultivator tossed down a spirit pearl, his servant relaying the question. “They said she perished in the tribulation, her body and soul scattered. How did she survive the Nine Heavens Tribulation?”

    The storyteller slammed his gavel on the table. “That’s a story for another time. It all began when she was young, a mere disciple, traveling the world…”

    The true reason, however, was known only to Qingji herself. The audience, listening intently, realized the storyteller had skillfully avoided answering the question.

    Stories were just stories, but the questions they sparked often reflected deeper anxieties.

    The other sects, recovering from their initial shock, now sought answers from Lizhu.

    Lizhu, spreading her hands innocently, her expression carefully neutral, replied, “I’d also like to know where my Grand Ancestor is. Tell me, and I’ll tell you why she’s returned to the Hanshan Sect.”

    Her counter-question silenced them.

    Qingji came and went as she pleased. If they could track her, they wouldn’t be asking.

    A particularly persistent Clan Head, however, refused to give up. “She’s your ancestor! Surely you have a way to contact her!”

    Lizhu, mirroring his insistent tone, nodded eagerly. “You’re right! I’ll contact her immediately and have her explain everything personally!”

    The cultivators: …No! Please don’t!

    Lizhu sighed. “As you know, my Grand Ancestor is unpredictable. She comes and goes as she pleases. But if she returns, I’ll be sure to relay your message.”

    The cultivators: …Just tell us what you want. We’ll pay. Just keep your ancestor under control.

    The Hanshan Sect, renowned for its composure and decorum, its Sect Leader known for her gentle nature, was now revealing its less refined side.

    Their attempts to glean information from Lizhu were met with skillful deflections and blatant misdirection. Frustrated, they dispersed.

    Lizhu, the communication jade resting on her table, her playful smile fading, her expression turning serious, wasn’t lying. She truly didn’t know where Tao Ning was, or what she was planning.

    Tapping her fingers on the table, lost in thought, she suddenly realized something.

    What was it…?

    “Dianshuang!”

    A disciple, sorting through documents, watched as the Sect Leader jumped to her feet, muttering something under her breath, then vanished in a flash of red.


    Tao Ning, the target of a sect-wide search, hadn’t gone far. Hidden in plain sight on Wangshu Peak, she spent her days peeling lotus seeds for Cen Dianshuang.

    She didn’t even use her spiritual energy, preferring to do it manually, using the time to chat and observe.

    After a few days, growing bored of watching the swirling mist, her gaze settled on the lotus pond, a thoughtful expression on her face.

    Cen Dianshuang, seeing her lost in thought, didn’t disturb her. When she returned, Tao Ning was tinkering with the Flame Dragon Furnace.

    Having passed by several times, curious about the process, she finally approached, watching as Tao Ning’s nimble fingers, moving with the grace of a musician playing a complex melody, disassembled a newly formed object, occasionally letting out a soft hum of contemplation, adding something from her robes.

    Cen Dianshuang had never witnessed artifact refining before, assuming it was a tedious and boring process, but watching Tao Ning’s focused expression, so different from her usual casual demeanor, piqued her interest.

    And the sight of those skillful hands, their movements precise and elegant, was mesmerizing.

    She leaned closer, her face initially near Tao Ning’s shoulder, then moving past it, her gaze fixed on Tao Ning’s work.

    “Hmm?”

    It wasn’t like that before. How did it suddenly become a miniature crystal boat?

    Tao Ning, sensing her presence, turned slightly, her eyes questioning. Cen Dianshuang, her own gaze fixed on the object in Tao Ning’s hands, didn’t answer.

    A strand of her dark hair brushed against Tao Ning’s sleeve, her lips, slightly parted in concentration, a vibrant red, like ripe fruit, inviting attention.

    Before Cen Dianshuang could fully comprehend the transformation, her chin was gently grasped, her face turned, and her lips brushed by Tao Ning’s in a quick, light kiss.

    Cen Dianshuang, startled, felt neither shyness nor surprise, just a sense of normalcy.

    As if nothing had changed, their differences in status and cultivation irrelevant, their connection unchanged.

    The anxiety she had been carrying for days dissipated, replaced by a simple, reassuring thought: She’s still her.

    Tao Ning, returning her attention to the miniature boat, continued her work, her expression focused.

    Cen Dianshuang remained, watching, her face eventually resting against Tao Ning’s shoulder, her own attention wandering.

    Cultivators didn’t experience fatigue, but watching Tao Ning’s intricate work had a relaxing effect. She leaned against her disciple, enjoying the quiet intimacy.

    If she were more… proactive, she might have wrapped her arms around Tao Ning’s waist.

    But she suspected that if she did, the object being refined wouldn’t be the only thing molded.

    Tao Ning, her focus unwavering, as if even a collapsing mountain wouldn’t distract her, suddenly turned, kissing Cen Dianshuang again.

    This kiss, however, wasn’t a fleeting touch, but a deep, lingering pressure, their lips parting slightly, a soft moan echoing in the quiet room.

    Cen Dianshuang’s carefully maintained composure crumbled, her body relaxing against Tao Ning’s, her breath coming in short gasps, her eyes slightly unfocused.

    A hand gently stroked her hair, then, moving upwards, undid her carefully arranged bun, her long, dark hair cascading down her back.

    Cen Dianshuang, too relaxed to protest, felt her hair being restyled.

    After all these years, she still hadn’t learned any other hairstyles, mostly out of disinterest. Without Tao Ning, she simply replicated her master’s style.

    She reached up, not to touch her hair, but the hairpin, its warmth unfamiliar. It wasn’t her usual wooden hairpin.

    Summoning a mirror, she looked at her reflection. “What is this?”

    Tao Ning, taking her hand, kissing her earlobe softly, also glanced at the hairpin, a delicate silver bird carrying a crescent moon. “Do you like it?”

    The elegant hairpin complemented Cen Dianshuang’s white robes, its delicate design enhancing her ethereal beauty.

    Cen Dianshuang, admiring it in the mirror, nodded. “It’s beautiful. I like it.”

    Tao Ning: “I made it a while ago. I thought it would suit you. I modified it yesterday.”

    Cen Dianshuang: “Modified it? I didn’t see you working on it.”

    Tao Ning: “It was a surprise.”

    That made sense.

    Cen Dianshuang continued to admire the hairpin in the mirror.

    Tao Ning, her fingers twirling a strand of Cen Dianshuang’s hair, said softly, “With this, even ten Cycle Mirrors won’t reveal your true form. And it contains three of my full-powered attacks. No one can harm you.”

    Cen Dianshuang corrected her gently, “It’s called the Cycle Mirror.”

    It was a Demonic Beast Realm treasure, not some random toy.

    Tao Ning shrugged. “It’s round. Same difference.”

    After a moment, she added, “Your tribulation will be difficult. I’ll see if I can improve it further, make it easier for you.”

    No longer pretending, she shared her thoughts freely, her unconventional ideas both intriguing and slightly bewildering to Cen Dianshuang.

    Unlike other sword cultivators, whose approach to both combat and tribulations was straightforward, relying solely on their swords, Tao Ning’s methods were creative.

    After another moment of quiet intimacy, the crystal boat, forgotten, lay abandoned somewhere. It didn’t matter. She could always make another one.

    Tao Ning: “It’s too quiet here. I’ll make you some toys.”

    Cen Dianshuang, her mind still slightly hazy from the kisses, hadn’t quite heard what Tao Ning said, simply replying, “As you wish.”

    A day later, her simple, almost spartan cave dwelling had been transformed into a miniature paradise.

    Cen Dianshuang almost didn’t recognize the place she had once called home, a simple cave with a meditation cushion.

    Tao Ning, despite her adaptability, had a refined taste, a fondness for beauty and comfort.

    Without resources, she didn’t complain, accepting whatever was available, even beggar’s rags. But given the opportunity, she transformed her surroundings to suit her preferences.

    The lotus pond on the mountain peak, its blossoms large and vibrant, nourished by the peak’s abundant spiritual energy, a small boat drifting among the leaves.

    A figure sat in the boat, her gaze fixed on something in her hands.

    Seeing Cen Dianshuang, she beckoned. “Why don’t you come over?”

    Cen Dianshuang, transforming into a white bird, flew across the pond, landing gracefully in the boat, then shifting back to her human form.

    Being able to reveal her true form so freely was liberating. And Tao Ning’s casual acceptance of her transformation was even more reassuring.

    Tao Ning picked up a fallen feather, twirling it between her fingers, then tucking it into her hair.

    Tilting her head, she asked, “Does it look good?”

    Cen Dianshuang, always honest, replied, “It looks… a bit strange.”

    Tao Ning straightened her head, frowning slightly. “Strange? I used to do this all the time. No one ever said it looked strange.”

    Cen Dianshuang considered the difference. “Perhaps because you were younger then? Anything looked good on you.”

    Tao Ning clutched her chest dramatically, her voice filled with mock despair. “Dianshuang, you’ve taken me for granted! You think I’m old!”

    Cen Dianshuang: “!!!” I swear, I didn’t mean it like that!

    Somehow, Tao Ning knew exactly how to push her buttons, her words sending a wave of panic through Cen Dianshuang, who almost jumped out of the boat.

    Pulled back down by Tao Ning, Cen Dianshuang reassured her, her voice slightly flustered, that she didn’t think Tao Ning was old, promising never to say such a thing again.

    Tao Ning, satisfied, had secured her right to wear bird feathers in her hair.

    Cen Dianshuang, however, suspected this wasn’t the end of it.

    Tao Ning, sitting opposite her, began peeling lotus seeds again, a small pile forming on her lap, a jade bowl resting on the small table between them.

    She expertly removed the bitter heart of a lotus seed, popping the sweet flesh into her mouth, her expression relaxing.

    Peeling another one, she offered it to Cen Dianshuang. “These are especially sweet. Try one.”

    Her hand, its skin smooth and pale, its fingers long and slender, their tips faintly pink, was beautiful, its movements graceful and precise.

    Cen Dianshuang took the offered seed, her eyes brightening. “Very sweet.”

    “Here’s another one.” Tao Ning continued peeling and feeding her, one after another.

    They seemed to forget Cen Dianshuang had hands of her own, their movements a silent dance of intimacy, their reflections in the water merging, their shadows intertwined.

    Like lovers, their affection reflected in the rippling water.

    The small boat drifted further into the lotus blossoms, its occupants surrounded by their sweet fragrance, their bodies eventually relaxing, their eyes closing as they drifted off to sleep.


    When Lizhu, finally remembering her missing junior sister, arrived at Wangshu Peak, she found Cen Dianshuang sitting in a crystal pavilion at the center of the lotus pond, gazing at the sky.

    Lizhu paused, her mind searching for a memory. Was Wangshu Peak always like this?

    Such trivial details rarely occupied her thoughts. She approached the pavilion. “I haven’t seen you in days. Hiding here, I see.”

    Cen Dianshuang turned, holding a jade bowl. “Senior Sister, would you like some?”

    Not wanting to take the winding path across the pond, Lizhu flew over, landing gracefully in the pavilion. She noticed the small boat drifting among the lotus blossoms.

    “A crystal boat? How… unique. I’ve never seen anything like it. A high-level artifact, I presume.”

    She sat down beside Cen Dianshuang, picking up a lotus seed. “Your lotus blossoms are ripe? Already? It’s not the right season.”

    Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “These aren’t from my pond. They were picked elsewhere.”

    Lizhu popped the seed into her mouth, its sweetness spreading through her, a refreshing burst of spiritual energy calming her mind.

    Taking another seed, she asked, “Where did you find them?”

    Cen Dianshuang, holding the bowl, turned and called out, “Where did you find these? I’ve never tasted them before.”

    There’s someone else here?

    Lizhu, puzzled, asked, “Who are you talking to?”

    A familiar figure emerged from Cen Dianshuang’s cave, their demeanor relaxed and casual. It was none other than their Grand Ancestor.

    Lizhu’s hand trembled, the lotus seed nearly slipping from her fingers. A terrifying thought crossed her mind.

    No way…

    Lotus seeds peeled by Grand Ancestor… and I just ate some…

    Hearing their voices, Tao Ning approached, a white feather adorning her hair, swaying gently as she walked.

    Lizhu stood up abruptly, her expression a mix of shock and nervousness. She had come to talk to Cen Dianshuang about Tao Ning, and now… here she was!

    She hadn’t even noticed.

    Tao Ning, her steps seemingly unhurried, suddenly appeared at the foot of the pavilion, ascending the steps gracefully.

    Lizhu bowed respectfully. “Greetings, Grand Ancestor.”

    Perspective was everything. Cen Dianshuang, compared to her flustered senior sister, was surprisingly calm, even managing to set down her bowl before standing up.

    They had kissed, shared intimate moments. This was nothing.

    Tao Ning reached the top of the steps. “No need for formalities, Sect Leader Lizhu. Treat me as you always have.”

    Lizhu: …That’s… not possible. Not even if her life depended on it.

    Tao Ning, gesturing towards the empty seats, said, “We’re family. Let’s sit and chat. What did you ask me earlier?”

    Cen Dianshuang repeated the question.

    Tao Ning smiled, her voice gentle. “I stumbled upon a secret realm while Dianshuang was in seclusion. The lotus blossoms were ripe, so I picked them. Would you like some?”

    Lizhu forced a smile. “No, thank you, Grand Ancestor.”

    Tao Ning, however, placed a handful of lotus seeds in Lizhu’s lap. “Don’t be shy. We’re family.”

    Lizhu’s mind went blank, not because of Tao Ning’s words, but because of the white feather in her hair.

    It looked familiar, its subtle shimmer reminiscent of her junior sister’s true form.

    Tao Ning, noticing Lizhu’s gaze, smiled faintly, brushing her hair back over her shoulder.

    Lizhu: …It really is. She remembered Tao Ning shielding Cen Dianshuang on the platform, her concern genuine, her protectiveness undeniable.

    But wearing a feather so openly was rather bold.

    The image made Lizhu’s eyes ache, as if she had been staring at the sun.

    Composing herself, she asked cautiously, “Grand Ancestor, what are your plans? If you wish, you can reside in the palace within Verdant Valley.”

    Tao Ning, understanding her concern, decided to reassure the worried Sect Leader. “I have no plans. And I’m happy here on Wangshu Peak. I might travel occasionally, explore the three realms.”

    Lizhu and Cen Dianshuang, speaking in unison, echoed, “Travel?”

    Tao Ning stood up, stretching languidly. “The world is vast. Why limit myself?”

    Lizhu: “News of Tu Ming’s death will reach the Demonic Realm soon. Without a leader, and with your return… they might be restless.”

    Tao Ning: “Their strongest forces are gone. The rest are just a rabble. I have no desire for conflict.”

    Lizhu, hearing this, relaxed slightly. She had never truly understood her Grand Ancestor’s temperament, only knowing her as someone who acted on impulse.

    Tao Ning: “I’ll only kill those who deserve to be killed. Don’t worry.”

    Killing, for her, was effortless. She simply didn’t want to be bothered.

    As the Hanshan Sect’s Grand Ancestor, her actions, however ruthless, couldn’t be questioned. Any resentment would be directed at the sect itself.

    Lizhu’s expression turned anxious. “That’s not what I meant, Grand Ancestor.”

    Tao Ning waved a hand dismissively. “I know. I’m just telling you.”

    There was no need for elaborate explanations with intelligent people. Lizhu understood. Her Grand Ancestor had no desire for conquest or power, simply seeking peace and quiet.

    As long as they weren’t provoked, the Radiant Realm would remain undisturbed.

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 77

    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.

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 76

    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!

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 75

    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.

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 74p2

    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?

  • The Heroine Fell Deeply For Her [Quick Transmigration] 74p1

    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.”