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

Chapter 73: Disciple and Wife

“Where is Elder Chang Xiang?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sneered. “You dare bring that up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The incident had created a lasting resentment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pang Xueting bowed respectfully. “Senior Jin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What did I just hear?

Are all Hanshan Sect disciples so… unconventional?

I hope I survive this visit.

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

With a sense of impending doom, Pang Xueting followed.

They found Tao Ning easily, studying the competition brackets.

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

“Senior J…”

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

Jin Jiamu smiled brightly. “Your furnace tender.”

Tao Ning: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t what she had expected.

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

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

Jin Jiamu’s eyes widened innocently. Nothing!

Their silent exchange was inconclusive.

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

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

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

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

Tao Ning listened, her expression unreadable.

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

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

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

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

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

The world was driven by greed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

【What are you thinking about?】

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tao Ning: “…”

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

Chapter 72: Disciple and Wife

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

These moments always felt strange to the Shangxi bird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a primal urge, an inherited instinct.

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

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

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

The Shangxi bird, relieved, smoothed its ruffled feathers.

---

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

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

But Lizhu had another motive.

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

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

The elder: “…”

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

Too much attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you eavesdropping?”

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

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

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

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

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

Of all the people to offend…

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

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

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

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

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

Their silence confirmed her suspicion.

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

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

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

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

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

This place is dangerous. Let’s leave!

What if those Hanshan Sect disciples decide to eliminate us?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meng Le was her deceased disciple, surnamed Qiu.

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

Chapter 71: Disciple and Wife

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

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

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

She had completely forgotten to reply.

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

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

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

The disciples trailing behind them shared her apprehension.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sudden burden of responsibility was heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The weight in her hand, though light, felt heavy with significance.

Cen Dianshuang, anticipating a lecture, quickly said, “It’s in there. I suddenly remembered something I need to do. I’ll be going now.”

With that, she vanished in a flash of white, the sect’s spirit birds taking flight, their cries echoing after her.

“Wait! Am I really that annoying?”

After she was gone, Lizhu’s smile faded, her gaze fixed on the pouch in her hand, her expression thoughtful.

She gave it to me so easily? Perhaps it’s not…

Her disciples watched as she stared at the pouch, then tucked it into her sleeve, shaking her head with a sigh. “A simple trip, and now I have a major problem. A divine artifact… Where am I supposed to keep it?”

---

The Ice Cavern was where Hanshan Sect disciples were sent for punishment or solitary cultivation.

A frozen wasteland, perpetually covered in snow, separated from the rest of the sect by a frozen river, its icy depths teeming with spirit beasts.

A place of punishment wouldn’t be comfortable. The biting cold frosted Tao Ning’s eyebrows, making her resemble an ice sculpture.

The Ice Cavern, however, was effective. After just a day, not only had the Wanhun Cauldron’s lingering resentment faded, but Tao Ning’s own worldly desires had also vanished, her mind as clear and empty as a Buddhist monk’s.

As she was gently reassuring the cauldron’s spirit, urging it to remain calm, a soft sound startled her. The sound of falling snow.

She opened her eyes to see a white bird landing on a snow-covered branch outside the cave.

Tao Ning felt a flicker of… something… a return of worldly desires.

The bird tilted its head, its dark eyes reflecting Tao Ning’s frost-covered form.

Tao Ning remained seated, observing the adult Shangxi bird.

Legends claimed that an adult Shangxi’s wings could blot out the sun, carry the moon on its back. This one, barely half an arm’s length, must have used a spell to shrink its size.

Unlike its fluffy, round, chick form, the adult Shangxi was elegant and slender, its long wings and tail feathers like delicate brushstrokes of white against the snow, a creature of ethereal beauty.

It shifted its claws, sensing… something… in Tao Ning’s gaze, considering leaving.

It had practiced its new, mature demeanor before venturing out, ensuring it was no longer recognizable.

As if sensing its intention, Tao Ning spoke. “Are you a spirit bird native to the Ice Cavern? I’ve never seen one before.”

The Shangxi bird paused, folding its wings, settling back onto the branch.

She didn’t recognize me, it thought, relieved. That was close.

From Tao Ning’s perspective, the bird, about to leave, suddenly adopted a calm, almost regal demeanor, its feathers practically screaming, Yes, I’m a rare Ice Cavern bird. You guessed correctly.

If 520 knew what the bird was thinking, it would have said, You’re treating her like a Disney princess! Not every bird is going to engage in friendly conversation! You’ve only ever interacted with one bird!

Tao Ning, perhaps feeling bored, continued, “I have some dried Silverfish. Would you like some?”

The Shangxi bird: …No, I’ve had plenty.

It took flight, shaking the snow from the branch, landing gracefully a short distance from Tao Ning.

But it had been a while. A small snack wouldn’t hurt.

Tao Ning, no longer teasing, retrieved a handful of dried fish, placing them on a nearby rock.

The familiar aroma reminded the Shangxi bird of its previous visits, a sudden wave of… nostalgia… washing over it.

Lowering its head, it began to eat, its beak delicately picking up the small, dried fish.

The sight always amused Tao Ning.

As a human, Cen Dianshuang was righteous and unwavering, her sword a force to be reckoned with. In her true form, however, she shed her inhibitions, her temper flaring, her fondness for snacks undeniable.

The two personas were so different, so seemingly incompatible, that anyone unaware of her true nature would never connect them. But Tao Ning found Cen Dianshuang’s… duality… endearing.

Only humans struggled with controlling their desires.

The sound of flapping wings startled Tao Ning from her reverie. “I have more, if you want some,” she said, retrieving another handful of fish.

The casual offer made the Shangxi bird freeze. It had almost forgotten its new, mature form, instinctively responding to the familiar offer.

Tao Ning’s tone and gestures were too familiar, echoing countless previous encounters.

It wasn’t worried about Tao Ning feeding other birds – she had only ever interacted with it – but about being recognized. The last time its name had been spoken, it had nearly exploded.

But it couldn’t resist seeing her.

As Tao Ning placed the new offering on a jade plate, she gave the bird a curious look. “Why are you staring at me?”

The Shangxi bird quickly lowered its head and resumed eating.

Tao Ning’s fingers twitched, wanting to touch the soft, white feathers, but she resisted, afraid of startling the bird away.

So she resorted to conversation instead. “Is it good?”

The Shangxi bird, its beak full, didn’t answer.

Tao Ning shifted her position, resting her chin on her hands. “My master insists I stay in the Ice Cavern for three months, to cleanse myself of the resentment. But I’m so bored…”

The Shangxi bird’s eating paused for a fraction of a second, then resumed, as if nothing had happened.

It didn’t realize Tao Ning had noticed.

Changing the subject, Tao Ning smiled at the bird. “I actually have more Silverfish. I was saving them for another little bird, but it hasn’t visited in a while. Will you come back tomorrow? I’ll give them to you.”

The Shangxi bird tilted its head, its beady eyes fixed on Tao Ning.

Another bird? The one whose feather dust you always complain about?

Unfortunately, Tao Ning couldn’t read avian expressions. She simply looked back, puzzled.

“Will you come back? I promise I’ll have more.”

With that promise, the Shangxi bird became a regular visitor.

Cen Dianshuang, however, was busy, her responsibilities piling up.

During the day, she assisted her senior sister with the preparations for the disciple competition, occasionally responding to Tao Ning’s messages. At night, without fail, she transformed into her bird form and flew to the Ice Cavern.

Thankfully, Tao Ning had stopped humming that annoying “bird anthem,” which always triggered an involuntary chirp. She didn’t want to explain why the Ice Cavern’s perpetual snowfall had turned into sleet.

520, watching the Shangxi bird fly away, then Tao Ning immediately sending a message to Cen Dianshuang, expressing her longing and affection, simply shook its head, suppressing the urge to say, You’re playing with fire, Host.

Another night, Tao Ning finished her meditation, her eyes opening to see the familiar white bird perched on a nearby cushion.

Looking at its pristine white plumage, she felt a sudden urge to… do something… but resisted, shaking her head. “No, that would be too much.”

The Shangxi bird tilted its head, its expression innocent.

The gesture was too cute to resist. Her fingers twitched.

She couldn’t recall ever having a pet in her previous life. She had always been indifferent to such things. But now, she found herself comparing every bird she saw to this perfect specimen of whiteness.

A soft, warm weight on her hand, and she looked down to see the Shangxi bird, having hopped off the cushion, nuzzling its head against her hand.

As if saying, Fine, if you want to pet me that badly, go ahead.

Tao Ning: “…”

Something exploded within her.

Her heart, overwhelmed by cuteness.

Chapter 70: Disciple and Wife

Tao Ning woke up faster this time, finding herself surrounded by another pile of spent spirit stones.

520, looking at the grey husks, commented, 【Your master is like a whale in a gacha game, and you’re the fragile character that needs constant reviving with premium currency.】

“How long was I out?” Tao Ning rubbed her temples, the throbbing pain from her earlier exertions now gone.

520: 【Not long. Just an hour.】

Tao Ning stood up, putting away the meditation cushion, and walked outside.

While it should have been bright daylight, the city remained shrouded in a perpetual twilight.

It would take time for Shadow City to recover.

Looking at the lingering resentment in the air, thinner than the previous night, she knew what Cen Dianshuang had been doing.

She saw a figure standing on a nearby rooftop and called out, “Master, we should hire some Buddhist cultivators to chant scriptures here. Seven days and nights should do the trick.”

Cen Dianshuang, with a graceful leap, landed beside her, her white robes swirling like butterfly wings.

“Let me see your hand.” She checked Tao Ning’s pulse, then, satisfied, released her wrist.

“Hiring Buddhist cultivators requires spirit stones.”

Tao Ning nodded. “Buddha doesn’t save the poor.”

Cen Dianshuang chuckled, lightly flicking Tao Ning’s forehead. “That’s not quite right.” She looked towards the sky, where a faint, shimmering, pale blue energy radiated outwards from the newly formed Eight Directions Cleansing Formation.

Tao Ning touched her forehead, her heart softening as she smiled back.

It wasn’t her imagination. Cen Dianshuang seemed… different since emerging from seclusion. Calmer, gentler, her aura resonating with the world around her.

The previous Sect Leader’s desperate gamble had paid off.

Cen Dianshuang felt a hand slip into hers, a warm, reassuring touch, not just a tug on her sleeve. The subtle shift made her pause, but she didn’t pull away, accepting the contact.

She led Tao Ning away, both looking up at the sky.

“I used a small Spirit Vein Pearl as the formation’s focal point. Within ten years, Shadow City should recover, its spiritual energy replenished. I’m not skilled in formations. I had to consult my senior sister. It took a while, but it worked.”

Tao Ning: “A Spirit Vein Pearl is… extravagant. High-grade spirit stones would have been sufficient.”

A moment of silence, then Cen Dianshuang’s voice, a gentle reprimand. “I didn’t bring many spirit stones. You used them all. Don’t do that again. Give your all in battle, but don’t exhaust yourself completely. It’s dangerous.”

Tao Ning, slightly embarrassed, scratched her cheek. “Sorry for the trouble, Master.”

Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “Nothing you do is ever trouble.”

Just as she spoke, a voice called out from the distance, its owner running towards them. “True Person Cen, the items you requested…”

Pang Xueting stopped abruptly, her gaze shifting between Cen Dianshuang and Tao Ning, their hands now separating. Her lips twitched.

“…are placed throughout the city.”

She smiled politely, her inner thoughts a silent scream. Why am I always the one getting hurt?!

Cen Dianshuang: “And the children? Have they recovered? Did you find their families?”

Pang Xueting, remembering the kidnapped children, nodded.

Cen Dianshuang: “I’ll go check on them.” She needed to see for herself.

With her most troublesome disciple awake and unharmed, she could finally focus on other matters.

As she turned to leave, she paused, touching her sleeve, a nagging feeling that she had forgotten something. She shook her head. “If I can’t remember, it must not be important.”

Back at the Hanshan Sect, Lizhu, staring at her communication jade, waiting for a reply: …Why hasn’t she responded yet?

Tao Ning, watching Cen Dianshuang leave, saw Pang Xueting looking at her with a strange, almost knowing expression. As their eyes met, Pang Xueting smiled brightly, patting her chest reassuringly.

Don’t worry, Senior Tao, your secret is safe with me!

Then, she walked away.

Tao Ning: …I don’t know what just happened, but I feel like I’ve received a very important promise.

With everything settled, it was time to leave Shadow City.

The decaying gates, their bronze hinges creaking, swung shut, sending a shower of dust into the air.

The disciples were discussing how to transport the rescued children, assuming Elder Cen wouldn’t want to be burdened with them. Her sword didn’t seem designed for passengers.

Before they could reach a decision, Tao Ning retrieved a small, exquisitely crafted boat from her spatial sleeve.

A child, pointing at the miniature boat, said, “It’s so tiny! Smaller than my finger!”

Children, despite their innocence, understood more than they let on. Pang Xueting had explained that without the “scary” woman who had saved them, they would have been devoured by monsters.

Seeing Tao Ning’s calm, composed demeanor, they felt less intimidated, even daring to approach her.

Cen Dianshuang, arriving, also saw the miniature boat. “A spirit boat? Where did you get that?”

Tao Ning: “A little something I made while waiting for you, Master. I thought we could use it to travel the Radiant Realm together. For… transportation and… relaxation.”

A little something? Cen Dianshuang, while not an expert refiner, had learned a thing or two from her Senior Sister Qianlian. The boat was clearly a high-quality artifact, its craftsmanship intricate and precise.

Pang Xueting was speechless.

While the others didn’t understand the implication, she did. She even prepared a spirit boat for their travels! Is she incredibly thoughtful, or incredibly reckless?

The child repeated, “Is that a boat? It’s so small!”

Tao Ning tossed the boat in the air, then, with a flick of her wrist, sent a wave of spiritual energy towards it.

The small boat expanded rapidly, its shadow falling over the city, hovering above them before slowly descending, landing just outside the city walls.

The onlookers gasped, their eyes wide with wonder.

While some of the Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, from wealthy families, had seen high-level artifacts before, a spirit boat like this, resembling a miniature palace, complete with a spirit gathering formation for cultivation, was rare and impressive. They eagerly approached, wanting a closer look.

Tao Ning, the first to board, turned and offered her hand to Cen Dianshuang. “Please, Master.”

Cen Dianshuang, her gaze lingering on the opulent spirit boat, placed her hand in Tao Ning’s.

Pang Xueting, standing nearby, closed her eyes, her mind reeling.

The other disciples, each carrying a child, followed, their excitement overriding any lingering questions about the hand-holding or the fact that Tao Ning, a sword and zither cultivator, could also craft such high-level artifacts.

As the spirit boat soared into the sky, a figure emerged from the shadows within Shadow City, watching their departure.

It was Er Lan.

She didn’t understand why Tao Ning, whom she had only met briefly, had attacked her without a word.

But she knew one thing: she couldn’t return to the Hanshan Sect. Doing so would be a death sentence.

She sighed inwardly, the loss of her hard-earned position within the sect a bitter pill to swallow, but her own survival, and the Demon Lord’s plans, were more important.

A gust of wind, and the pink-clad figure vanished into the shadows.

The Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, initially planning to disembark at a nearby city and return to their sect, now reconsidered. With such luxurious transportation, why rush?

It’s not… sightseeing… We’re simply escorting these children home.

That night, the spirit boat sailed through a sea of clouds.

Most of the children had been returned to their families. Only two remained, their homes further away.

In the quiet of the night, under the high-hanging moon, a figure moved through the ship’s cabins.

The excited disciples had declared their intention to cultivate all night, hoping to impress their masters with their progress.

Pang Xueting, however, quietly closed the door to one of the cabins, muffling the sounds of snoring.

One by one, she closed the doors, then headed towards the deck, seeking fresh air.

Another figure was already there: Tao Ning, her back to Pang Xueting, her silhouette familiar.

Pang Xueting: “…”

Hesitating for a moment, she decided to return to her room. I’ll enjoy the fresh air later.

Not now. Not appropriate.

Tao Ning approached the meditating figure, sitting down on a nearby cushion, her hand resting on her chin as she studied Cen Dianshuang’s profile.

Cen Dianshuang, sensing her presence, opened her eyes, meeting Tao Ning’s warm gaze.

“I woke up and you were gone. I missed you, so I came looking for you.”

Cen Dianshuang’s gaze lingered on Tao Ning’s forehead. “Your… resentment… It’s… fluctuating. Is it… diurnal?”

Tao Ning leaned closer, the fine hairs on her face visible in the moonlight, her eyes reflecting Cen Dianshuang’s image. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Cen Dianshuang, her hands now clasped in Tao Ning’s, glanced down, making no attempt to pull away.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I’ll explain later.”

Tao Ning’s initial unease faded, and she raised Cen Dianshuang’s hand, pressing it against her cheek, rubbing gently.

She had noticed Tao Ning’s fondness for this gesture, and she… didn’t dislike it.

Tao Ning held Cen Dianshuang’s hand against her face, her eyes lowered, her expression soft and… harmless.

She nuzzled Cen Dianshuang’s hand, her voice soft. “Master.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Mmm.”

Tao Ning repeated, her voice even softer, “Master…”

Cen Dianshuang understood. She was simply… seeking attention.

But she still responded, her voice gentle. “I’m here.”

She allowed herself to be drawn into the moment, the warmth of Tao Ning’s touch a comforting presence. She had never considered simply… being with someone… a source of happiness.

She had always found such things… tedious, preferring the thrill of sword practice, dismissing romantic entanglements as a waste of time.

But now, simply being with Tao Ning, talking, sharing a quiet moment, seemed… almost… more enjoyable than practicing her swordsmanship.

Almost.

Tao Ning, her lips curving into a smile, her eyes gleaming with a fox-like cunning, whispered, “Cen Dianshuang.”

Cen Dianshuang’s fingers brushed against Tao Ning’s cheek, her eyes softening. She chuckled softly. “A disciple addressing her master by name. Such disrespect.”

Tao Ning smiled, repeating the name, “Cen Dianshuang. Cen Dianshuang.”

As if the name itself was a source of amusement, a newly discovered treasure.

Cen Dianshuang responded each time, her voice a gentle murmur. “I’m here.”

Tao Ning, releasing Cen Dianshuang’s hand, leaned closer, her gaze intense. “Cen Dianshuang, I admire you. I… cherish you.”

Cen Dianshuang, unable to resist, leaned in, their lips meeting, her words a soft, breathless whisper against Tao Ning’s mouth. “I know. I… feel the same.”

Their lips locked in a long, slow kiss, the empty deck of the spirit boat their private sanctuary.

Forty years of seclusion, forty years of silence, only her cultivation for company, her wings growing stronger with each passing day.

Alone in the vast expanse of Thunder God Valley, the silence had been… overwhelming. She had often found herself thinking, If Tao Ning were here, I wouldn’t be so bored.

A mix of avoidance and longing, a sudden emptiness in her heart as she finally acknowledged her true feelings.

Love was a feeling, not a logical construct. There were too many reasons, making it impossible to choose a single, definitive explanation.

But trapped in seclusion, unable to confide in anyone, she had been forced to confront her feelings alone.

So she had counted the petals on the plum blossom, a distraction from the agonizing pain of her expanding meridians.

Day and night, she had stared at the vase, memorizing the number of blossoms, their color unchanging, their beauty preserved. When she could maintain her human form, she would gently touch the branch, her fingers tracing its delicate curves.

If forty years weren’t enough time to understand her own heart, then she had truly lived in vain.

As they parted, Tao Ning, her gaze lingering on Cen Dianshuang’s lips, leaned in for another quick kiss.

She seemed to want to say something, but her strength failed her, and she collapsed against Cen Dianshuang, her body enveloped in a warm embrace.

“…”

So it’s like this again.

Cen Dianshuang held her, gently patting her back. “When we return, you’ll need to spend some time in the Ice Cavern, to cleanse yourself of the resentment.”

Tao Ning’s eyes snapped open. “No, I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.”

Cen Dianshuang, startled by her sudden awakening, chuckled softly. “What will you do if you don’t cleanse yourself, and this happens again?”

Tao Ning rubbed her temples, her voice slightly slurred. “I’ll… I’ll manage.”

The Wanhun Cauldron, sealed for so long, had been overly enthusiastic upon its release, its power briefly overwhelming Tao Ning, who was no longer at Mahayana.

It wasn’t serious. Regular meditation would suppress the cauldron’s influence.

Cen Dianshuang, unaware of the true cause, relaxed, finding the situation slightly amusing.

Those influenced by resentment often became aggressive and violent. Her disciple, however, had simply become more clingy and prone to dramatic displays of affection.

She had abandoned all pretense of maintaining a master’s decorum, her behavior emboldened by Cen Dianshuang’s unintentional indulgence.

Cen Dianshuang shook her head, then sighed. “This isn’t something you can simply ‘manage’… Fine, I won’t say anything more.”

She kissed Tao Ning’s cheek, her hand resting on her wrist, channeling a cool stream of spiritual energy to help suppress the cauldron’s influence.

Tao Ning, no longer able to cling to Cen Dianshuang, reluctantly sat up, beginning her meditation.

Bathed in moonlight, she looked like a jade statue, her face serene as the faint darkness lingering between her eyebrows slowly dissipated.

Cen Dianshuang, seeing her recover, concluded that her disciple was simply… resilient.

And…

She looked at the spirit boat, its intricate design and spacious cabins a testament to Tao Ning’s skill.

It was far more than a simple “toy.”

A weight on her lap, and she looked down to see Tao Ning, no longer meditating, but lying down, her head resting on Cen Dianshuang’s thigh.

Cen Dianshuang gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Tao Ning’s face, her hand captured by her disciple, who, despite her closed eyes, was clearly awake.

“Can you even breathe with your sleeve covering your face?” Cen Dianshuang chuckled, gently pulling her sleeve away.

---

After returning the last two children to their families, Tao Ning chose a spot outside a city near the Heavenly Heart Sect to disembark.

The disciples, feeling indebted to their saviors, wanted to express their gratitude properly, perhaps even securing a formal thank you from their elders. The immortals’ abrupt departure felt… incomplete.

“You’re returning to the Heavenly Heart Sect, right?” Tao Ning smiled as they prepared to leave. “I won’t be joining you. Go on. Go home.”

Disappointed, but understanding, they disembarked.

Pang Xueting, lingering behind, turned to Tao Ning, her voice firm. “Our paths will cross again, Senior Tao! I’ll defeat my fellow disciples and visit you at the Hanshan Sect during the next competition!”

Tao Ning remembered the centennial disciple competition, hosted by the Hanshan Sect this year.

A young disciple’s ambition was admirable. She smiled, waving her hand dismissively. “Alright. I’ll be waiting for you to claim the top spot in the Foundation Establishment division. Your name will be on the Heavenly Pride Ranking. A new generation of prodigies.”

Pang Xueting, slightly embarrassed by the praise, blushed.

Before jumping off the boat, she said, “Thank you for your encouragement, Senior Tao. I’ll do my best.”

As the spirit boat ascended, Pang Xueting led her fellow disciples towards the city.

Cen Dianshuang emerged from the cabin, joining Tao Ning by the railing, looking down at the small figures below. “Those are the children you saved before joining the Hanshan Sect. Their hearts are pure.”

Tao Ning: “She told you that? I didn’t go out of my way to save them. I simply… repaid a kindness. They shared their food with me.”

Cen Dianshuang shook her head. “Actions speak louder than words. And in their hearts, you’re their savior, their guide on the path of cultivation.”

Returning to their sect, Pang Xueting informed her master of Senior Brother Qiu’s death and the events in Shadow City.

Before True Person Chang Xiang could question her further, she was summoned by the Sect Leader.

Pang Xueting was puzzled. Being summoned by the Sect Leader wasn’t unusual, but why would the Sect Leader want to see her?

Arriving at the meeting hall, she realized she wasn’t the only one summoned. Several elders were also present.

She was the second to arrive, preceded by Zhuang Shimei, the elder’s son, who looked as confused as she was.

Once everyone had assembled, the Sect Leader, who had been meditating with her eyes closed, opened them, addressing the group. “Do you know what artifacts were created in Shadow City that day?”

Chapter 69: Disciple and Wife

“Bang!” A half-person-tall basket overflowing with high-grade spirit stones landed on the floor.

“Thump! Clatter!” Another basket followed, its contents carelessly spilled onto the floor.

The dimly lit room brightened, the spirit stones’ glow outshining the nearby fire, their radiance highlighting the luxurious couch.

The youngsters peering through the doorway: …Our eyes!

They had never seen such a casually extravagant spirit gathering formation.

As the formation activated, a wave of pure, concentrated spiritual energy washed over them, like the refreshing burst of fresh air after a rain shower.

It was a strange sensation, spiritual energy as palpable as rain, invigorating and revitalizing.

Tao Ning, lying on the couch, her eyes closed, absorbed the energy instinctively, her depleted meridians eagerly drinking it in.

Cen Dianshuang, seeing this, felt a wave of relief.

But the lingering resentment from the Wanhun Cauldron still clung to Tao Ning, a shadow in her aura. They needed to return to the Hanshan Sect soon.

Cen Dianshuang stepped outside, retrieving two bottles of pills from her spatial pouch. She offered one to Pang Xueting. “Replenishing Pills. One each. Restore your spiritual energy.”

“Thank you, Senior.” Pang Xueting took the jade-red bottle, then looked up, puzzled, as Cen Dianshuang offered another.

Cen Dianshuang tapped the second bottle. “Cleansing Pills. Everyone needs to take one. Even the children. It will… prolong their lives.”

Pang Xueting, her admiration growing, nodded. “Thank you, Senior.” She hadn’t expected the Senior to be so considerate.

The savior’s master is also a kind person. Cold and aloof on the outside, but warm-hearted.

Shadow City, steeped in resentment for centuries, was devoid of spiritual energy, making cultivation impossible.

The disciples had initially relied on Replenishing Pills, but their supply had run out, forcing them to rely on their own dwindling reserves.

Cen Dianshuang returned to Tao Ning’s side, maintaining her vigil.

Pang Xueting distributed the pills. As she handed one to Zhuang Shimei, he suddenly slapped his thigh, his eyes widening in realization. “I remember!”

The others, startled by his outburst, turned to him.

Zhuang Shimei, having depleted his arsenal of protective artifacts, no longer cared about their loss.

His voice was filled with awe. “I went to the Hanshan Sect with my father once, to trade for pills. I saw her there, calling the Peak Master ‘Senior Brother.’ Later, my father told me she was Elder Cen, the Disciplinary Hall Elder! Immortal Dianshuang! I remember the red mark on her forehead clearly!”

“I knew she looked familiar! I was too young back then. I just remembered!”

The others stared at him, their hands frozen mid-air, the pills clutched in their fingers.

Who? Who did you say she was?

And what hall did you say she managed?

How did such a powerful figure end up in this remote, desolate city?

When Cen Dianshuang emerged again, she found a group of unusually subdued and respectful youngsters.

Cen Dianshuang: …This feels like I’m back at the Hanshan Sect.

Hanshan Sect disciples were notoriously respectful, and terrified, in her presence.

She turned to Pang Xueting, who seemed the most articulate among them. “You…”

Pang Xueting straightened up, bowing respectfully. “What are your instructions, True Person Cen?”

Cen Dianshuang: “…”

---

Tao Ning awoke to the sound of hushed whispers, her depleted meridians gradually replenished by the concentrated spiritual energy.

She opened her eyes to the dust-covered ceiling, 520’s voice echoing in her mind. 【After five hundred years, you finally awaken.】

Rubbing her temples, she sat up, her complexion returning to its normal, healthy glow. She hadn’t been injured, just drained of spiritual energy.

She remembered Cen Dianshuang taking the Wanhun Cauldron. That was reassuring.

Maintaining her current disguise, concealing her true identity, possessing the cauldron would have been a liability. It was better off in the Hanshan Sect’s custody.

The most powerful sect in the Radiant Realm would surely find a way to contain its resentment. She had no desire to reclaim her title as Demon Lord.

The room was empty, the door closed. Looking down, she saw a pile of grey stones at the foot of the couch, their texture softer, less dense than ordinary stones.

The spirit stones, their energy drained, were now just… husks.

Poheng lay beside the couch. Touching its hilt, she said, “520, check the Sever Fate progress bar. Five hundred years later.”

520 hesitated, its tone suggesting it already knew the answer. 【Um… current progress: 98.7%. It decreased by 0.02% while you were unconscious.】

Tao Ning, her hand still resting on Poheng’s hilt, stared at the grey stones, lost in thought.

520, rummaging through its database, found this situation wasn’t unusual, but for Tao Ning… it was.

It should have reached 99%. How could it decrease?

After a long silence, Tao Ning sighed. “Never mind. It’s not important. We’ll investigate later.”

She stood up, putting away the spirit jade couch, and opened the door.

It was still dark outside. Shadow City, nestled at the foot of a mountain, was always shrouded in shadows.

With the Thousand-Thread Gu mostly eradicated, the disciples felt safe enough to gather outside, huddled around a fire.

Hearing the door open, they turned.

Pang Xueting, the first to stand, approached Tao Ning. “Senior Tao, you’re awake! Are you feeling alright?”

Tao Ning, her gaze sweeping over the small group, her eyes cold and distant, noticed several young, mortal children hiding behind the cultivators.

Perhaps a trick of the firelight, but her expression was sharp, almost predatory, making them instinctively avoid her gaze.

Pang Xueting, standing closest, felt it most acutely, her heart pounding as Tao Ning’s eyes met hers.

“Where’s my master?”

Pang Xueting quickly replied, “True Person Cen asked me to tell you she’s dealing with the cultivator’s cave. She said it’s where the mother Gu is located, and it needs to be destroyed to prevent the Thousand-Thread Gu from returning.”

Tao Ning nodded. “Did you only find these children in the city?”

The children hadn’t been in the cultivator’s cave, but hidden in the cellar of another abandoned house, the walking corpses bringing them food. Several had fallen ill, only recovering after taking Cen Dianshuang’s pills.

One, a girl in a pink dress with two braids, the daughter of the wealthy man who had hired them, clung to Pang Xueting’s side, peering at Tao Ning with wide, curious eyes.

Pang Xueting, stroking the girl’s hair, replied, “Yes, only these children. Why do you ask, Senior? Are there others trapped in the city?”

Tao Ning, withdrawing her extended spiritual sense, smiled. “No.”

Looking at Pang Xueting, her voice softening slightly, she said, “Stay here. I’m going to find someone.”

Pang Xueting, assuming she was going to find Cen Dianshuang, readily agreed, promising to keep everyone safe.

Tao Ning smiled, a curt nod. “Good.”

“Senior Sister Pang, doesn’t Senior Tao seem… different… since waking up?” a young disciple asked after Tao Ning had left.

Pang Xueting’s face hardened. “The Senior fought all night, slaying countless Gu insects and the Zombie King, then defeating the rogue cultivator, exhausting her spiritual energy before collapsing from exhaustion. She just woke up.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just…” The disciple looked aggrieved, wanting to explain, but struggling to articulate the unsettling feeling.

It was like… the aura of someone struggling with a heart demon.

But he wasn’t sure, unable to distinguish between the influence of a heart demon and residual resentment.

Pang Xueting, not wanting to hear any more, said, “We’re running low on firewood. If you have time, help me dismantle those broken tables and chairs. We need to keep the fire going.”

The disciple, knowing he had upset his senior sister, quickly obeyed.

Pang Xueting didn’t notice that Tao Ning wasn’t heading towards Cen Dianshuang’s location, but towards the western part of the city.

Before its fall, the western district had been the city’s commercial center, its streets and alleyways a maze of buildings, easy to get lost in.

A perfect hiding place.

A figure landed silently on a rooftop, her hand resting on her sword hilt, the full moon casting her shadow against the wall, like a scene from a shadow puppet play.

Below, three voices argued, two female, one male.

Tao Ning recognized one of the female voices: Er Lan, whom she had met briefly at the Hanshan Sect’s outer territory. The other two were unfamiliar.

But she recognized the man’s voice: Xiao Haoran. And the other woman, who kept referring to herself as “Princess,” was the Demonic Beast Realm princess, Chi Xiaxia.

In the original storyline, the protagonist’s vast harem was categorized into ranks: one Empress, two Noble Consorts, four Celestial Consorts, and eight Beauties. Chi Xiaxia was one of the Noble Consorts.

Born with six tails, a sign of exceptional talent among the Chi Fox clan, she was also notoriously playful, often sneaking into the Radiant Realm, her elders’ scolding having little effect.

On his way to Shadow City, Xiao Haoran had rescued Chi Xiaxia, who, trapped in her fox form after being ambushed, had been captured by fur traders.

Xiao Haoran, guided by the Heavenly Book, had arrived just in time, buying her and nursing her back to health. Later, upon entering Shadow City, she had repaid his kindness by protecting him from the walking corpses, revealing her human form.

Er Lan, initially assuming Xiao Haoran had another lead on a treasure, had reluctantly accompanied him to Shadow City, only to discover he had rescued a fox demon.

She recognized Chi Xiaxia as a member of the Chi Fox clan, and specifically, the six-tailed princess.

Secretly, she had been impressed by his luck. Perhaps his claim about obtaining the Wanhun Cauldron wasn’t so far-fetched after all.

This had made her tolerate his… impulsive actions.

They hadn’t revealed their true intentions to each other yet. The princess, assuming Er Lan was Xiao Haoran’s lover, and accustomed to getting her way, was jealous, treating Er Lan with open hostility.

Er Lan, a spy loyal to the Demonic Realm, found the clingy, six-tailed fox, constantly vying for Xiao Haoran’s attention, incredibly annoying. If not for the Demon Lord’s instructions to bring both Xiao Haoran and the Wanhun Cauldron back to the Demonic Realm, she would have eliminated them both.

Their argument ended unresolved, Er Lan, unable to tolerate the princess’s whining any longer, storming out.

“I’ll cultivate elsewhere tonight.”

The princess’s petulant voice echoed after her. “She’s just jealous! Why won’t you come to the Demonic Beast Realm with me? My father can easily help you with your cultivation bottleneck.”

Xiao Haoran’s soothing voice followed, not mentioning that returning to the Demonic Beast Realm wasn’t a good idea right now, simply blaming Er Lan’s behavior on concern, unaware of his true nature, assuming she saw him as a human cultivator.

Er Lan stepped out into the moonlight, then paused, glancing around, a flicker of unease in her eyes.

But the city was quiet, only the distant sounds of Cen Dianshuang’s battle reaching her. No one was watching.

She sighed inwardly. They were too late. Cen Dianshuang had likely taken the Wanhun Cauldron.

Facing Cen Dianshuang directly would be suicide.

Shaking her head, she walked away, seeking a quieter place, away from the annoying fox.

Tao Ning wasn’t interested in killing Er Lan. She was just a pawn, her actions dictated by others.

Poheng’s blade shimmered as she dropped down from the rooftop.

Chi Xiaxia’s voice, sharp and accusatory, echoed from within the house. “You like that Er Lan, don’t you?! That’s why you won’t come to the Demonic Beast Realm with me!”

“Xiaxia, calm down. I…”

“No explanations! I’m leaving!”

Before Xiao Haoran could finish, Chi Xiaxia, transforming into her fox form, jumped out the window.

Xiao Haoran, after a brief, half-hearted pursuit, muttered, “Jealous women are so troublesome.”

The door behind him opened, a gust of wind entering the room.

“Xiaxia, I really didn’t mean… ” He turned, expecting to see the princess, waiting to be coaxed back, but the figure standing in the doorway was unfamiliar.

His hand instinctively went to the saber at his waist. “Who are you?”

Tao Ning, her gaze cold, replied, “You carry the scent of the Demonic Realm.”

It wasn’t Er Lan’s scent. She cultivated spiritual energy, her actions in the Radiant Realm those of a human cultivator.

His secret exposed so easily, Xiao Haoran’s heart pounded. “I can explain.”

The woman’s expression remained impassive, her attack swift and brutal.

Xiao Haoran drew his saber, blocking her strike, the clash of metal echoing through the room. “There’s no need for violence, fellow cultivator. I’m Xiao Haoran, a member of the Hanshan Sect.”

Tao Ning twisted her wrist, deflecting his attack, sparks flying as their blades met, the force of their colliding spiritual energy creating a miniature whirlwind.

Seeing the inner sect disciple token at her waist, he quickly added, “There’s another Hanshan Sect disciple next door. She can vouch for me!”

In a sword fight, agility and precision often trumped brute force.

He had assumed his superior cultivation level and his powerful saber, which had once cleaved a mid-tier Heaven-grade spirit sword in two, would give him the advantage. He was wrong.

Their spiritual energies clashed, and Xiao Haoran, unable to withstand the force, was sent flying, crashing against the wall, the impact shattering his supposedly invincible Golden Core.

My Nascent Soul… it feels… fake.

If Tao Ning knew his thoughts, she would agree.

Of course it felt fake.

He had needed the sacrifice of another Nascent Soul cultivator, the Pleasure House Mistress, to achieve his breakthrough. Now, he would never meet Pang Xueting, the Mistress of the Pleasure House.

There was no Pleasure House Mistress named Pang Xueting. Only a Heavenly Heart Sect disciple.

Xiao Haoran coughed up blood, his meridians shattered, his spiritual core broken. The pain was blinding.

Footsteps approached, and he watched helplessly as the woman in green walked towards him, his body unable to move, his escape routes blocked.

Her sword, glowing with a faint purple light, pierced his already shattered core, extinguishing the last flicker of life within him.

He stared at her, his eyes wide, memorizing her face, his voice a raspy whisper. “Who… are you…?”

As the sword was withdrawn, Tao Ning knelt beside him, two fingers reaching for his forehead.

Panic surged through him. He wasn’t afraid of death. He had a soul-protecting artifact. He would simply regenerate.

But she was targeting his soul. His survival instincts kicked in, a golden light erupting from his forehead, deflecting her attack.

Tao Ning, her fingers tingling, frowned, puzzled.

She tried again, her fingers almost touching his forehead when a gust of wind brushed past her face. She struck out, her palm connecting with something solid.

A cry of pain, and a figure in red tumbled from the window, a concealing artifact rolling across the floor.

Ignoring the pain, Chi Xiaxia, her six crimson tails flaring, their fur bristling like needles, lashing out at Tao Ning, the force of the blow shattering the walls of the small room.

Tao Ning dodged, but the sharp fur grazed her hand, drawing blood. She ignored the wound.

Poheng flashed, severing one of the tails.

Chi Xiaxia, losing a tail, a century of cultivation gone, coughed up blood, her face ashen.

“Leave now, and I’ll spare you. I’m the princess of the Chi Fox clan. I have far more ways to kill you than you, a mere Golden Core cultivator, can imagine.”

“Save your breath,” Tao Ning replied, attacking again.

A few moves later, another tail fell, and Chi Xiaxia, ignoring the pain and the loss of cultivation, focused on survival, throwing a barrage of artifacts at Tao Ning.

She retreated, partially shifting to her fox form, her fingers elongating into claws, their battle seemingly evenly matched, but a sense of dread filled her.

Who is this cultivator? Why is she so strong?

A faint zither melody echoed through the night, and Tao Ning’s attack faltered, giving Chi Xiaxia the opportunity she needed. She lunged, forcing Tao Ning back, then turned, grabbing the unconscious Xiao Haoran.

The teleportation formation on one of her artifacts activated, and they vanished.

“520, check the progress bar,” Tao Ning said, Poheng still humming in her hand, its blade eager for more.

Why did Master stop?

520: 【Current progress: 99%. Increased by 0.03%.】

It was starting to wonder if the mission required the protagonist’s complete and utter demise, but it doubted the criteria were that simple.

Tao Ning, ignoring the numbers, frowned. “The progress bar is still active.”

He was still alive. Killing the protagonist of a cultivation world was proving more difficult than anticipated.

She suspected that even without the zither melody, something else would have happened, allowing Chi Xiaxia to escape with Xiao Haoran.

Glancing at the scratches on her hand, she wondered how to explain them to Cen Dianshuang.

Cen Dianshuang arrived quickly, having sensed the commotion and the surge of demonic energy.

Taking in the scene – the ruined buildings, the two severed fox tails – she asked, “What happened here?”

Tao Ning, hiding her injured hand, smiled brightly. “Master, you came! A demon attacked me. I fought back.”

Circulating her spiritual energy, she healed the scratches on her hand.

Cen Dianshuang’s brow furrowed. “A demon attacked you? Are you injured?”

Before Tao Ning could answer, Cen Dianshuang began examining her, pulling up her sleeves, searching for any hidden wounds.

Tao Ning stood still, her expression innocent, allowing her master to fuss over her. “I’m fine. Unfortunately, the fox demon escaped.”

Cen Dianshuang’s hand, holding Tao Ning’s, suddenly stilled, then she released it, her expression unchanged, pulling down Tao Ning’s sleeve.

“What are your thoughts on demons?”

Tao Ning blinked, then, emboldened by Cen Dianshuang’s subtle encouragement, spoke her mind. “All creatures are born with the potential for both good and evil. Demons are no different. They have their own territory, separate from the Radiant Realm. We coexist peacefully. If a demon living in the Radiant Realm chooses the path of righteousness, there’s no need for eradication.”

She felt like she was knocking on a closed door, unsure if it would ever open.

But it didn’t matter. She could pretend to be oblivious, if necessary.

Cen Dianshuang didn’t respond, unable to before Tao Ning, her spiritual energy depleted once again, collapsed.

Catching her, Cen Dianshuang frowned, checking her pulse before scooping her up.

She expertly adjusted Tao Ning into the most uncomfortable carrying position.

This disciple was… high-maintenance. She needed to bring her back to the Hanshan Sect, where she could keep a closer eye on her. A third incident of spiritual exhaustion would damage her meridians.

The disciples waiting in the courtyard were worried. They had heard the sounds of collapsing buildings and fighting, Tu Shimei reporting seeing massive fox tails.

But Senior Tao had left a protective formation. They dared not enter.

As dawn broke, they finally saw the two figures returning, their posture… unusual.

Senior Tao had left standing. Now, she was being carried by Cen Dianshuang.

Pang Xueting’s mind reeled. What happened?!

Why does Senior Tao keep fainting?

Wait… was that my imagination?

She rubbed her eyes, staring at the returning figures.

Cen Dianshuang, putting Tao Ning down, her gaze lingering on the two white feathers in her disciple’s hair, smiled.

It was a small, subtle smile, but its warmth was undeniable, her eyes shimmering with affection.

Chapter 68: Disciple and Wife

At the entrance to his cave, the cultivator’s face paled. “How…?”

He raised his flute to his lips, its shrill notes echoing through the night, but this time, there was no response.

Tao Ning knew. His Zombie King was dead.

---

Withdrawing her moon-white sword from the shattered skull of the Zombie King, Cen Dianshuang turned to the stunned disciples.

“Have you seen a woman named Tao Ning? She carries a jade token with the character ‘Frost.’”

She stood before them like a celestial being, her movements powerful, her techniques vaguely familiar.

Her aura, however, was overwhelming, demanding obedience. They looked at her like mice facing a tiger, too terrified to speak.

Cen Dianshuang’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t seen her?”

She had sensed Tao Ning’s location the moment she emerged from seclusion, surprised to find her not at the Hanshan Sect, but in this remote city.

Ignoring her senior sister’s message, she had followed the signal from Tao Ning’s jade token, arriving in this desolate, ruined city.

The resentment clinging to the city was thick, a palpable weight, the result of centuries of suffering.

Even cultivators struggled to survive in such an environment, let alone mortals.

One of the female disciples, startled by Cen Dianshuang’s intense gaze, pointed hesitantly down the street. “She… she went that way.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Thank you.” With a graceful leap, she soared into the sky, disappearing in a flash of white.

Her speed left the disciples speechless.

So fast! We couldn’t even see her move!

The disciple who had pointed the way stammered, “You’re welcome, Senior…”

Then, someone realized something. “Wait, you didn’t even ask if she was a friend or foe! Why did you tell her where to go?!”

“She… she looked at me… I just… I couldn’t lie.”

“She looked furious. What if she’s not looking for someone, but seeking revenge?”

“Now that you mention it, she sounded… tense when she said the Senior’s name. Like she was gritting her teeth.”

“Should we follow?”

“We might need to… intervene.”

They set off, running down the street.

Their spiritual energy was depleted, their supply of replenishing pills exhausted. They had no choice but to run.

The cultivator, his face contorted in rage, threw down his flute. “Dead! Already dead!”

Years of planning, ruined. But with Demon Lord Qingji standing before him, it wasn’t a complete loss.

He bowed respectfully. “My Lord, that troublesome cultivator is approaching. What are your orders?”

520, surprised by this unexpected encounter with someone who knew Qingji, and the imminent arrival of Cen Dianshuang, panicked. This could be bad.

It frantically tried to contact Tao Ning. 【Oh no! Are you about to be exposed?!】

Tao Ning, preparing to mute 520 again, paused.

520 quickly added, 【Wait! I have another update! Your progress bar is active!】

This was relevant. “What’s the progress?”

520: 【Current progress: 98.9%. Almost 99%! A bit slower than the last world.】

Ignoring the fact that the progress bar in the previous world had been delayed, it was indeed slower, slow enough to be noticeable.

The brief exchange with 520 was imperceptible. The cultivator awaited his Lord’s command.

Tao Ning: “What do you suggest?”

The cultivator, his face lighting up, assuming he had finally earned his Lord’s favor, replied eagerly, “My Lord’s return must remain a secret. Those Radiant Realm cultivators are prone to overreacting. We should eliminate these… witnesses… and return to the Demonic Realm. You will reclaim your throne!”

Tao Ning nodded. “You’re right.”

The cultivator, beaming, gestured towards his cave. “The Wanhun Cauldron is beneath my cave. I’ll lead you there, my Lord, and break the seal.”

Tao Ning: “That won’t be necessary.”

The cultivator’s face fell. “Why not?” He assumed his true motives had been discovered.

He wasn’t wrong. Tao Ning, raising her hand, sent a wave of spiritual energy into the cave.

The sheer power of the attack revealed her true cultivation level.

“You!” The cultivator shrieked, leaping back, drawing his spirit weapon. “I knew it! Your cultivation has regressed! Qingji, you’ve finally fallen!”

He shook his bell, and a swarm of vengeful spirits, their forms like swirling black smoke, their mouths open in silent screams, emerged, flying towards Tao Ning.

“Qingji, you said nine pairs of children weren’t enough to awaken the Wanhun Cauldron. But your soul… that will be sufficient.”

Tao Ning drew her sword, its tip pointed at the cultivator. “You can try.”

The cultivator specialized in manipulating ghosts, having sacrificed the entire population of Shadow City centuries ago to fuel his spirit weapon, the Heavenly Crippled Bell. He had been gravely injured during the ensuing siege, forced into hiding.

The attacking cultivators, claiming compassion, hadn’t bothered to eliminate the city’s remaining inhabitants, simply sealing the city and leaving.

They had intended to let the city destroy itself, the resentment energy dissipating as the bodies decayed.

Essentially, they couldn’t be bothered.

These self-righteous cultivators, always preaching about slaying demons and showing mercy, rarely acted unless their own interests were threatened.

This, however, had allowed him to recover and perfect his spirit weapon.

The swarm of spirits couldn’t reach Tao Ning. Dodging their attacks with ease, she didn’t flee, but turned, her sword slicing through the black mist, dispersing it.

Lightning spiritual energy was a bane of evil creatures, the Demonic Realm’s least favorite.

Even ghosts feared it, its power akin to heavenly lightning, their destruction absolute, their souls scattered, preventing reincarnation.

Before the cultivator could launch another attack, he felt the ground tremble.

He wasn’t mistaken. Not just his cave, but the entire mountain was shaking, as if something massive was about to emerge.

Dark clouds gathered overhead, the river churning, the moans of the undead echoing through the city, the world reacting to the Wanhun Cauldron’s awakening.

He had spent centuries watching over the cauldron, anticipating its return, but now, as it was finally happening, it wasn’t under his control.

Continuing his attack, he couldn’t help but ask, his voice filled with doubt, “Are you really Qingji? Are you… her descendant? Why is your cultivation so low? Weren’t you killed by the tribulation lightning?”

Tao Ning, her attacks relentless, reached him, her gaze cold, her voice calm. “You seem to know a lot.”

A chill ran down the cultivator’s spine. He understood the unspoken message.

She wanted him dead.

His first instinct was to flee.

Losing one’s composure was a sign of weakness, an invitation for defeat.

He turned to run, but it was too late. A flash of lightning, and Poheng’s heavy blade, usually too dull to even chop wood without spiritual enhancement, nearly cleaved him in two.

His spiritual core shattered, beyond repair. He coughed up a mouthful of black blood, collapsing to the ground.

Tao Ning, not stopping there, placed her hand on his forehead, incinerating his soul, preventing reincarnation and any possibility of his memories being accessed.

He died with his eyes wide open in disbelief.

He had once cheated death, his soul escaping his dying body and possessing a mortal, allowing him to cultivate again. This time, however, there would be no second chances.

Tao Ning, withdrawing her hand, looked at the cave, then at the sky.

The jade token at her waist pulsed, its warmth intensifying as Cen Dianshuang drew closer.

A series of crashes and rumbles echoed from the cave, the ground shaking violently, the tremors spreading through Shadow City.

The Wanhun Cauldron, sensing its master’s spiritual energy, was breaking free.

520 panicked. 【The cauldron! It’s coming! What are we going to do?! Your master is almost here!】

Its hopelessly romantic host, if driven to despair by a misunderstanding, would likely destroy the entire Radiant Realm.

Tao Ning made a decision. “If there’s no other choice, then we’ll face it head-on.”

520: 【What are you going to do?】

Tao Ning, channeling more spiritual energy into the collapsing cave, replied, “Midwife.”

520: 【…You’re joking, right?】 Please don’t joke at a time like this!

It had never believed the online reviews describing Tao Ning as “unpredictable.” Now, it believed. It was officially Tao Ning’s loyal, if slightly terrified, companion.

Tao Ning, her hand glowing, a torrent of spiritual energy pouring from her meridians, said, “Who’s joking?”

The tremors intensified, spreading beyond the city walls, reaching the river, its waves churning violently, the disturbance felt even in the neighboring cities.

The birth of a divine artifact was a significant event, its power felt even by the cultivators in the distant Heavenly Heart Sect.

Xiao Haoran, sheltering within a house, lost his footing, tumbling to the ground. He steadied himself with his saber. “What’s happening? An earthquake?”

He wasn’t sensitive to the unusual spiritual fluctuations, but Er Lan, having lived in the Demonic Realm for centuries, recognized the aura immediately, her expression turning grim. “That aura… It’s the Wanhun Cauldron. It’s awakening.”

Xiao Haoran’s eyes widened. “It’s awakening? But I’m not there yet! How can it…?” Did the Heavenly Book lie to me?

A deafening roar echoed through Shadow City, leaving everyone momentarily deafened, their ears ringing, the world around them a muffled blur.

Their hearing gradually returned, and the disciples running through the streets hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Should we continue?”

Pang Xueting, after a moment of thought, nodded resolutely. “Yes. We have to. Even if we die, we need to know the truth.”

“Senior Sister Pang is right!”

Inspired by her words, they continued their journey.

---

Cen Dianshuang deflected a shower of falling debris with a wave of her sleeve, standing on Xuan Ying, her gaze fixed on the source of the commotion, her expression grim.

Below, amidst the dust and rubble, the Wanhun Cauldron, having shattered its prison, hovered in mid-air, its aura radiating outwards, then slowly descended.

She had sensed the disturbance from afar, but had come anyway.

And she had found the person she was looking for.

Tao Ning stood before the ruined cave, her back to Cen Dianshuang, a small cauldron resting in her outstretched hand.

Turning, she met Cen Dianshuang’s gaze. For the first time, Tao Ning saw no smile on her master’s face.

Her own eyes, usually bright and playful, were now cold and calm, her gaze steady, almost aloof.

She stood there, holding the cauldron, as if waiting.

After a long moment, a faint smile curved her lips. “Why are you just standing there? Come here.”

Cen Dianshuang landed gracefully, walking towards Tao Ning without hesitation.

The Wanhun Cauldron wasn’t simply a demonic or spiritual artifact. It could be both.

Its creator had been a spiritual cultivator, its first user the ghost cultivator Patriarch Wanhun, but its true master had been Qingji.

Her senior sister had told her this, adding that the cauldron, having consumed countless souls, was filled with resentment, even as a spiritual artifact.

Such resentment could influence its user, which was one of the reasons Qingji had sealed it away. She didn’t like losing control.

Cen Dianshuang’s hand touched Tao Ning’s, her fingers enveloped in a warm, firm grasp. “Your hands are cold. Just emerged from seclusion?”

Cen Dianshuang glanced at the cauldron in Tao Ning’s other hand, feeling her grip tighten, then looked back at her disciple.

Tao Ning’s voice held a hint of… something… Cen Dianshuang couldn’t quite name. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

Cen Dianshuang: “I am. I’m just… thinking about how to answer.”

Tao Ning’s smile returned, her eyes crinkling at the corners, a flash of her earlier, more innocent self. “You’re still the same. You can’t lie.”

Cen Dianshuang began, “I…”

Tao Ning shook her head, interrupting her. “It’s fine. I know you. You came to find me the moment you emerged from seclusion, didn’t you?”

It was phrased as a question, but her tone was certain. And she was right.

Cen Dianshuang, slightly nervous, not wanting to forcibly take the cauldron and risk injuring Tao Ning, simply nodded. “Yes.”

Tao Ning’s smile widened, its warmth infectious. Even knowing Tao Ning was likely influenced by the cauldron’s resentment, Cen Dianshuang felt her own tense muscles relax.

Then, her back pressed against a tree trunk, her lips captured in a sudden, unexpected kiss, a warm, insistent pressure that made her gasp.

Her eyes widened, her hands resting lightly on Tao Ning’s shoulders, afraid to push her away, afraid of hurting her, of breaking the fragile connection after so long apart.

Their previous kiss had been a drunken mistake, a hazy memory.

This, however, was different. She was fully aware, fully present, the sensation… overwhelming.

Tao Ning’s kiss wasn’t gentle, its intensity almost bruising, but a warmth spread through Cen Dianshuang’s body, melting her usual coldness, her muscles relaxing as if she were immersed in a hot spring.

The longing, the pent-up emotions of forty years, poured into the kiss, their intensity undeniable.

Cen Dianshuang, her legs weakening, leaned against Tao Ning, her hands gripping her disciple’s back, their bodies pressed close.

She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, only a soft, breathless, “Mmm.”

The simple sound made Tao Ning’s smile widen, her own hand now resting on Cen Dianshuang’s cheek, her face pressed against her master’s, as if she couldn’t survive without her warmth.

But remembering Cen Dianshuang’s reserved nature, she pulled back slightly, her words sending a jolt through Cen Dianshuang’s mind.

“Master, do you remember… that night in Butterfly City? Why did you suddenly enter seclusion? Did you… not want me anymore?”

Cen Dianshuang’s mouth opened and closed, her tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips. She looked up, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “No.”

Tao Ning buried her face in Cen Dianshuang’s neck, her voice muffled. “I don’t believe you. You abandoned me.”

Cen Dianshuang, her awkward attempts at comforting her disciple rusty after forty years, gently stroked Tao Ning’s back, her touch light and hesitant.

“I didn’t abandon you. I… I had a breakthrough. I didn’t have time to wait for you. I had to go to Thunder God Valley. My situation is… unusual. It took longer than expected. It won’t happen again.”

Tao Ning, still clinging to her, shook her head, and Cen Dianshuang, assuming she wasn’t convinced, struggled to find the right words.

Then, Tao Ning’s voice, soft and serious, echoed against her neck. “It’s okay, Master. As long as you’re safe.”

Cen Dianshuang’s relief was short-lived. Her disciple, still clinging to her, added, “Kiss me, and I’ll feel better.”

“…”

Cen Dianshuang pulled away abruptly, turning her back to Tao Ning.

Tao Ning, her arms now empty, stood there for a moment, then looked at Cen Dianshuang, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “Master?”

Cen Dianshuang wasn’t completely turned away. She was facing sideways, her profile visible, her ears and neck flushed crimson.

She’s blushing? Embarrassed?

After a long moment, she turned, her voice slightly flustered. “If you want a kiss, just ask. Why call me Master?”

She resisted the urge to cover her face, the blush spreading rapidly.

“I feel like I’m… corrupting you.”

Tao Ning, interpreting this as rejection, her shoulders slumping slightly, said softly, “Alright.”

“Alright what? I didn’t say no.” Cen Dianshuang approached, cupping Tao Ning’s face in her hands, showering her with kisses.

Forehead, nose, cheeks, then finally, her lips.

Lest her disciple, still slightly influenced by the cauldron’s resentment, complain about unfairness.

Releasing Tao Ning, she looked away, her voice slightly flustered. “There. This… this isn’t a good thing. I’ll keep it safe. We’ll give it to the sect.”

She bent down to retrieve the Wanhun Cauldron, which had apparently been kicked aside during their… embrace.

Thankfully, her disciple hadn’t shown any interest in the artifact that could control the Demonic Realm…

A thud behind her, and Cen Dianshuang turned, nearly dropping the cauldron as she saw Tao Ning lying unconscious on the ground.

She quickly scooped her up. Spiritual exhaustion. A spirit gathering formation would fix that.

Looking towards the nearby trees, she called out, her voice calm, “Come out.”

A figure emerged from the shadows: Pang Xueting, who had left her junior siblings behind to scout ahead.

Pang Xueting stammered, assuming she had interrupted something… private. “Senior… is… is Senior Tao alright?”

She wanted to say, You two are so adorable! So Senior Tao already has a Dao companion!

But meeting Cen Dianshuang’s gaze, the words came out differently. “So you weren’t an enemy! You were looking for someone! Haha!” She mentally slapped herself. What am I saying?

Cen Dianshuang, initially looking at Tao Ning with a soft, almost tender expression, turned, her face now cold and impassive. “She’s my disciple.”

Pang Xueting’s jaw dropped, and she stumbled, landing hard on the ground.

The other Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, waiting nearby, finally saw their senior sister emerge, only to trip and fall.

“Senior Sister! Are you alright?!”

Cen Dianshuang, her voice calm and detached, offered some unsolicited advice. “Your footing is unstable. Practice horse stance for an hour each day with a water-filled urn on your head. It will improve your balance.” She frowned, wondering why she had even bothered. Perhaps seeing a low-level cultivator triggered her “elder” persona.

She walked away, carrying Tao Ning, her steps unhurried.

Her disciple needed rest. She recalled the spirit jade bed she had brought with her. It would be perfect.

Pang Xueting, her face pale, her hands clammy, stared after her, her mind reeling.

Wait… disciple? Or Dao companion?

Since when do masters and disciples make out against trees?

Chapter 67: Disciple and Wife

The courtyard, crushed under the weight of the dead spider demon, was no longer habitable. The group found another room within the same estate, however.

The spider demon’s lingering aura, permeating its former territory, served as a deterrent against the Thousand-Thread Gu, making it safer than venturing outside.

After settling their injured companion, Pang Xueting approached Tao Ning. “Savior, what brings you to Shadow City?”

Tao Ning offered her usual explanation. “A training mission from my master. Slaying demons and exorcising ghosts.”

520, having heard this countless times, cringed internally.

Pang Xueting, however, looked at her with admiration. “As expected of my savior! I’ve always aspired to follow in your footsteps. I intended to thank you properly after reaching Golden Core, but fate has brought us together again.”

Tu Shimei, one of Pang Xueting’s junior sisters, muttered, …A fate I’d rather avoid.

Pang Xueting, still basking in the unexpected reunion, oblivious to her junior sister’s comment, continued, eager to share her accomplishments. “After you encouraged me to seek refuge in a sect, I joined the Heavenly Heart Sect. I’m now a Talisman Cultivator, studying under True Person Chang Xiang.”

Tao Ning: “True Person Chang Xiang? I encountered a Heavenly Heart Sect disciple claiming to be her student earlier.”

Pang Xueting’s eyes widened. “Where is he?”

Another junior sister spoke up. “Senior Brother Qiu? But wasn’t he… consumed by the white bugs…?”

Tao Ning, sitting on a three-legged stool with a broken leg, shook her head regretfully. They already knew the answer, but hearing it confirmed still brought a pang of sadness.

Pang Xueting, composing herself, said, “Thank you for telling us, Savior.”

Tao Ning shook her head. “No need to call me Savior. My name is Tao Ning. I don’t have a title yet.”

Pang Xueting, adapting quickly, addressed her as “Senior Tao.”

Calling her “fellow cultivator” would be disrespectful. “Senior” was more appropriate.

They were all Heavenly Heart Sect disciples, mostly inner sect judging by their robes and swords, their cultivation levels ranging from Qi Refining to Foundation Establishment, Pang Xueting, at peak Foundation Establishment, the highest among them.

It seemed the entire next generation of the Heavenly Heart Sect was here, along with a few pampered children laden with protective artifacts.

Curious about the mysterious cultivator who had appeared so suddenly, they whispered among themselves, pulling Pang Xueting aside for a private conversation.

Moments later, Tao Ning was surrounded by a group of wide-eyed youngsters, their gazes filled with the same admiration as Pang Xueting’s.

Tao Ning: “…”

To avoid further small talk, she spoke before they could bombard her with questions. “This place is difficult to find. How did you all get in?”

The youngsters, still buzzing with Pang Xueting’s story, exchanged uneasy glances.

A boy covered in protective talismans said, “We were chasing a spirit beast. It wasn’t like this before. Everything changed after nightfall.”

Several others, their clothes more elaborate, nodded in agreement.

A disciple in standard uniform spoke up. “We were hired to find a missing young lady, kidnapped from her family. We followed the kidnappers.”

A female cultivator added, “Then, just like they said, the living became the dead, the food turned into white bugs, and Senior Brother Qiu… he ran out of Fasting Pills, so…”

“Those weren’t ordinary bugs. Those were Thousand-Thread Gu,” Tao Ning corrected. “You’re all from the Heavenly Heart Sect, but you didn’t arrive together?”

They nodded in unison. “Yes, we’re all from the Heavenly Heart Sect.”

Tao Ning: “How long have you been here?”

Pang Xueting, the most senior among them, was about to explain when a roar echoed from outside, the sound neither human nor beast, sending shivers down their spines.

Tu Shimei exclaimed, “They’re back! Put out the fire!”

They scrambled to their feet, their voices filled with urgency. “Hurry! Put out the fire! Don’t let them in!”

“Is it night already?” one wailed. “Will I ever see my parents again?”

“My master is in seclusion. She won’t notice I’m gone. I should have listened to her and stayed put.”

Tao Ning, recognizing the sentiment, chuckled softly. “My master won’t notice I’m gone either.”

Pang Xueting, confused, tilted her head. “Senior Tao?”

Tao Ning gestured towards the others frantically extinguishing the fire. “Why are you putting out the fire?”

Pang Xueting explained, “The Thousand-Thread Gu are afraid of fire. We light fires during the day to keep them away. But at night, the walking corpses emerge. They can’t see, but they can sense our breath and body heat. Fire attracts them. And there are too many to kill.”

The entire city’s population had been turned into walking corpses. They outnumbered the living, filling the streets at night.

They were, after all, still young and inexperienced, easily frightened by nightly visits from the undead and the constant threat of corpse poison.

Tao Ning nodded, then tilted her head, a thoughtful expression on her face. “So they’re all out now? Because it’s night?”

Pang Xueting: “Yes. They emerge at night. And the Thousand-Thread Gu use the darkness as cover.”

The two threats coexisted, sometimes even cooperating.

Like now.

A loud crash, and a swarm of Thousand-Thread Gu poured through the broken windows, revealing the terrified faces of those inside.

The walking corpses, drawn by the scent of living flesh, converged on the house, their distorted shadows flickering on the walls.

“They’re here again!”

With the spider demon gone, its lingering aura no longer a deterrent, the city’s amplified resentment fueled the Gu, driving them towards the living.

Tao Ning: “Do you know if they’re acting on their own, or are they being controlled?”

Pang Xueting stared at her, confused.

A young man spoke up, his voice filled with suspicion. “What do you mean? Is someone deliberately targeting us?”

The boy covered in talismans, surnamed Zhuang, was the Grand Elder’s son, a pampered and protected child.

Tao Ning waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. The outcome is the same. Stay here. Don’t wander off.”

She jumped through the broken window.

Pang Xueting called after her, “Senior Tao…!”

A flash of light, a surge of spiritual energy, then several thuds. Something rolled across the floor. The clawing hands at the door paused, then moved towards the sound.

The disciples inside exchanged glances, then rushed to the window, peering out cautiously, afraid to venture beyond the relative safety of the house.

Under the pale moonlight, a figure soared across the rooftops, their movements graceful and swift, like a celestial being.

She looked down, her hair swirling around her, her eyes, reflecting the chaos below, calm and unwavering.

Mindless corpses didn’t require her full attention. Standing on the roof, she controlled Poheng, slicing through the grasping hands reaching for her.

From her vantage point, the highest roof in the estate, she could see most of Shadow City, noticing dark shapes moving in the distance.

With Cen Dianshuang’s token, the Thousand-Thread Gu couldn’t touch her, but their sheer number obscured her vision.

She summoned the Flame Dragon Furnace.

“Someone throw me a stick!” she called down.

Pang Xueting, kicking a piece of dry wood, tossed it upwards. “Catch!”

Tao Ning caught it, extending it towards the furnace.

The Flame Dragon Furnace, anticipating a culinary adventure, flickered its flames in confusion, then, hearing Tao Ning’s words, puffed up with pride.

“Your flames are the last embers of the Flame Dragons, a bane of all evil. I need your fire.”

The flattered furnace released a burst of flame, igniting the wood, then, before it could bask in further praise, was recalled.

The disciples below watched, bewildered, then gasped as the sky above them turned a fiery red.

The flames devoured the grey mist, spreading rapidly, their intensity illuminating the entire city.

The heat washed over them, but they resisted the urge to shield their faces, not wanting to miss the spectacle.

Tao Ning amplified the flames with her spiritual energy. Unlike ordinary fire, Flame Dragon fire was difficult to extinguish, yet it didn’t harm inanimate objects. Her initial attempts at cooking with it had required a combination of flattery and deception.

The burning Gu insects recoiled, their swarm scattering, the flames spreading from one to another, illuminating the entire city.

The sky above Shadow City resembled an inverted sea of fire, its crimson waves rolling and crashing.

Countless insects burned, their ashes falling like a fine grey rain.

The disciples below, scrambling for cover, eventually resorted to dismantling a nearby pavilion, carrying its roof like a giant shield.

A front-row seat to a cultivator duel. Can’t miss this!

Tao Ning, watching the giant, moving shield below, tossed them the burning branch.

“Thank you, Senior!” Pang Xueting caught it, using it to incinerate the remaining insects.

The Senior’s fire was far more effective than their own, actually burning the Gu instead of simply repelling them.

These creatures, having festered in Shadow City for so long, had grown resistant to ordinary fire, requiring spiritual fire for their destruction.

With the insects dealt with, Tao Ning turned her attention to the growing horde of walking corpses, glancing at the disciples huddled beneath their makeshift shield. She sheathed Poheng and summoned Jianshu.

Under the moonlight, the zither’s strings vibrated, a deep, resonant melody echoing through the city.

The guttural moans of the walking corpses ceased, an unnerving silence falling over the city.

The disciples, their hearts pounding as they listened to the music, noticed the sudden agitation of the corpses around them.

Like a pack of wolves responding to a call, a louder moan echoed from the distance, and the corpses, initially advancing towards the house, stopped, their own moans rising in response.

The disciples realized that their previous nightly encounters had been mere… appetizers.

Tao Ning, her hands moving gracefully over the strings, the zither hovering in mid-air, supported by her spiritual energy, reached the midpoint of the melody, then, with a graceful leap, took flight.

The walking corpses, their attention now fixed on the figure above them, turned and followed, abandoning their previous targets.

One disciple whispered, “I didn’t see enough.”

Another: “Should we follow?”

With the corpses distracted, they emerged from the house, their torches held high, no longer afraid, their swords flashing as they dispatched the few remaining stragglers.

Stepping over the scattered corpses, they reached the main street, then stopped, their jaws dropping.

Bodies. Everywhere. A mountain of corpses, each one neatly decapitated with a single, precise sword strike.

The estate faced the main street, a wide thoroughfare, now filled with a dense crowd of walking corpses.

The mindless horde retreated, stumbling over their fallen comrades.

At the center of their retreat was a single sword. Or rather, the corpses were retreating from the sword.

Standing on a rooftop, Tao Ning controlled Poheng, its form multiplying into a thousand shimmering blades, their edges glowing with a faint purple light.

Her voice echoed through the night. “Fall.”

The swords descended like a storm of steel, each strike severing a head.

The street cleared, the corpses falling in droves.

Pang Xueting watched, mesmerized. She had known Senior Tao was powerful, but back then, drugged and disoriented, she hadn’t been able to fully appreciate the spectacle.

Tonight, however, all her regrets were erased.

A dark shape flickered in the distance, and Pang Xueting shouted, “Behind you, Senior!”

The music stopped. Tao Ning turned, swinging the zither, sending the dark shape flying.

It crashed into a nearby building, the impact demolishing the structure, sending dust and debris flying.

A young man, rubbing the back of his head, winced. “That would have hurt.”

But it wasn’t over. Something was moving beneath the rubble.

Moments later, a figure emerged, its clothes tattered, its body covered in white fur, its face obscured.

The terrified disciples stared at the grotesque creature. “What… what is that?”

“It has… claws…”

“Poheng.” Tao Ning, putting away the zither, summoned her sword.

A clang of metal against metal as the creature lunged, its dark claws scraping against Poheng’s blade.

Tao Ning stepped back, absorbing the impact.

She finally saw its face. Unfamiliar features, covered in dark runes, its eyes glowing red, its pupils thin and sharp, its gaze fixed on her with an unnerving intensity.

Unlike the other corpses, this one could see. And the tattered remnants of its clothing suggested it had once been a cultivator.

Transforming a living cultivator into a Gu-controlled puppet, merging flesh and insect, was a dark and forbidden art.

The once-living cultivator had been slowly consumed, its body transforming, becoming impervious to blades, its skin covered in fur, its mind lost, becoming the king of the city’s undead.

Thankfully, Tao Ning had muted 520. Otherwise, the sight of this… creature… would have shattered her eardrums with its shrieks.

520, oblivious to its silenced state: 【Ahhhhhhhh！A Zombie King! Ahhhhhhhh！！】

After a brief exchange, Tao Ning severed one of the creature’s arms. Raising her sword for the killing blow, she paused as the creature looked down at its severed limb, seemingly surprised, then turned towards the sound of a distant flute.

“It’s running away!” Tu Shimei exclaimed.

Tao Ning gave chase, her attacks relentless.

The Zombie King, who could have easily defeated all of them combined, was now fleeing for its life, pursued by a single cultivator. The sight was exhilarating. The disciples, cheering internally, followed.

Stay close to the Senior! Safety in numbers!

The Zombie King finally stopped at the edge of the city, at the foot of the mountain, disappearing into a dark cave.

Tao Ning stopped at the entrance, peering into the darkness, then scoffed. “This place looks creepy. I’m not going in. I’ll let the elders handle it.”

She turned to leave.

A cold voice, laced with demonic energy, echoed from the cave. “Insolent child! You dare disrespect me?”

Tao Ning, her hand resting on her sword, chuckled. “If you’re too scared to come out, just say so. I won’t judge. No need for theatrics.”

A moment of silence, then a surge of demonic energy, and a hunched figure in black, surrounded by walking corpses, emerged from the cave.

“I was going to give you a quick death, but now… I’ll flay you alive and feed you to my Gu.”

Tao Ning, unfazed by the threat, having heard far worse during her travels, smiled. “So you’re the one controlling the corpses. You look the part. A true connoisseur of insects and the undead.”

She glanced at him, raising Poheng, its blade shimmering. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re the rogue cultivator who escaped all those years ago. The one who turned Shadow City into a ghost city. You somehow managed to cheat death and become a… cave-dwelling hermit.”

The figure stared at her, its expression strange, unsettling.

Tao Ning’s smile faded, sensing something amiss.

“Your… your face…” The cultivator’s eyes widened. “Identical… Are you… my Lord…? No, that’s impossible. My Lord is at Mahayana. You’re only at peak Golden Core. You’re not her.”

Only one person was addressed as “Lord” by a cultivator from the Demonic Realm.

The current Demon Lord… few acknowledged his authority. He had simply taken over Demon Lord Qingji’s palace, his cultivation far from supreme.

Tao Ning studied him. She didn’t recognize him.

But Demon Lord Qingji had countless followers. Preoccupied with her own cultivation and her pursuit of ascension, she wouldn’t have remembered every single one.

Someone like this… wouldn’t even have been allowed to enter her presence, more likely to be tossed into a furnace as refining material.

Tao Ning’s voice hardened. “You’ve been hiding here for centuries, creating an army of the undead. What are you planning?”

The cultivator, initially dismissing the possibility of her being his Lord, now hesitated, her tone… familiar.

But her cultivation was only at peak Golden Core. However, with her Lord’s abilities, concealing one’s true cultivation was trivial. What if she had… regressed…?

Tao Ning unleashed her Mahayana spiritual pressure, and the cultivator, his mind reeling, his spiritual consciousness feeling like it was being sliced by a thousand blades, collapsed to his knees, clutching his head.

He didn’t dare cry out, his voice filled with respect. “My Lord! I… I discovered the Wanhun Cauldron sealed beneath Shadow City. I remained here, guarding your treasure, awaiting your return.”

Tao Ning’s voice was ice. “Discovered it?”

The cultivator, his face slick with sweat, insisted, “Yes… I discovered it.”

He wouldn’t admit his negligence, his theft, even if his life depended on it.

So, the missing Wanhun Cauldron was here, in the Radiant Realm. Soon, the protagonist would stumble upon it, forming a contract and becoming its master.

But the cauldron was temperamental, loyal to a single master. This cultivator had failed to claim it after centuries, his cultivation insufficient, his actions defying Heaven’s will.

The cauldron had waited, dormant for centuries, for its destined master, chosen by Heaven. If Tao Ning were the original host, she would also want to kill the protagonist.

Three thousand years of arduous cultivation, ending in death by tribulation lightning, only to pave the way for this… child… How could she accept that?

The cultivator, seeing Tao Ning’s silence, his unease growing, stood up hesitantly. “To celebrate your return, my Lord, I have prepared nine pairs of children with suitable spiritual roots to offer as a sacrifice to the Wanhun Cauldron. I pledge my loyalty and my service in reclaiming your rightful place.”

Tao Ning’s face contorted in disgust. “Who told you sacrificing children would awaken the cauldron?”

The cultivator, confused, stammered, “Then… how…?” He had tried countless methods, all failing to break Qingji’s seal. He had been planning to try a forbidden ritual during the next full moon, when the seal’s power was at its weakest.

A faint, ethereal melody, like the sound of a cold mountain spring under the moonlight, echoed through the night.

Tao Ning turned sharply, her eyes widening in surprise.

It was a melody only Cen Dianshuang could play, a private communication they had developed.

It was a question: Where are you?

The cultivator’s expression hardened. “More cultivators! They’re seeking death! And there are more of them!”

He summoned the Zombie King and the remaining corpses.

The Zombie King, seeing Tao Ning standing at the cave entrance, hesitated, then turned and fled.

Tao Ning, her gaze following him, frowned in thought.

He wouldn’t pose much of a challenge to Cen Dianshuang. She would catch him easily. There was no stopping her.

At the city gates, Cen Dianshuang, receiving no response, frowned, playing the melody again.

This time, the notes were longer, more urgent.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching, followed by lighter, faster steps, and panicked shouts.

“Where did all these corpses come from?!”

“Didn’t Senior Tao eliminate them all?”

“There are so many! Master, save us!”

“It’s all because this city is too big! We lost the Senior!”

Cen Dianshuang instantly recognized that these weren’t her disciple’s voices.

Her disciple was far too composed to scream and run.

Putting away Yaoguang, summoning Xuan Ying, she flew towards the source of the commotion.

She was, however, intrigued by their mention of “Senior Tao.”

According to the jade token, Tao Ning was within the city. She hadn’t responded to her summons, but the token hadn’t issued any warnings, suggesting she wasn’t in immediate danger.

Her ethereal figure soared through the night sky. Xiao Haoran, hiding under the eaves of a building, looked up, their gazes meeting briefly.

She paid him no attention, continuing her flight towards the city center.

Xiao Haoran, however, emerged from his hiding spot, his gaze following her, mesmerized. “A true immortal…” he murmured.

Beside him, Er Lan frowned, her heart pounding. Cen Dianshuang? What’s she doing here?

The surrounded disciples, seeing a figure descending from the heavens, landing gracefully amidst them, scattering the corpses with a wave of spiritual energy, their eyes widened in hope.

A sword, glowing with a pale moonlight aura, flew through the air, decapitating the corpses with swift, precise strikes.

They assumed it was Senior Tao, but then they saw her face: cold and beautiful, a red mark on her forehead.

Who is this? Another powerful cultivator?

Then, the woman in white swung something long and rectangular, sending a dark shape flying, followed by the sound of collapsing debris.

Another ruined building. Slaying demons and demolishing houses.

The Heavenly Heart Sect disciples: “…”

They wiped the dust from their faces, their expressions mirroring each other: stunned disbelief.

That attack… looked familiar.

Chapter 66: Disciple and Wife

Forty mortal years passed like flowing water, enough time for a newborn to reach middle age, but not enough for a cultivator to emerge from seclusion.

A rumor circulated through the Radiant Realm: the Wanhun Cauldron, sealed away by Demon Lord Qingji a thousand years ago, was stirring, its seal weakening.

The various sects were concerned, puzzled by its presence in the Radiant Realm and fearing the chaos it might unleash.

The rumor, initially confined to the sects, spread like wildfire, becoming common knowledge.

Inns and teahouses frequented by cultivators buzzed with speculation.

“Isn’t the Wanhun Cauldron a demonic artifact from the Demonic Realm?”

“It was sealed away. How do you know about it?”

“Did you overhear something?”

“Everyone’s talking about it. Why would I lie? Haven’t you noticed the increased activity from the Heavenly Heart Sect? They’re investigating.”

“I thought they were searching for missing disciples.”

“Missing disciples? Where?”

A chorus of surprised gasps.

“Shadow City? There’s no Shadow City around here.” A man kneading dough at a street stall wiped the sweat from his brow, turning to his wife. “Have you ever heard of a Shadow City?”

His wife, pausing her work, frowned in thought, then shook her head. “No. Never.”

The man, frustrated, insisted, “But it’s…”

Before his wife could dismiss him, a woman in a pink dress intervened, her voice gentle. “If you haven’t heard of it, we won’t bother you any further. We’ll ask elsewhere.”

Smiling politely, Er Lan pulled Xiao Haoran away. This was Heavenly Heart Sect territory. Best not to offend the locals.

“Another dead end? Another wrong turn?” Xiao Haoran grumbled, his frustration growing with each failed inquiry.

His extended stay in Four Borders City, while beneficial for his cultivation, had atrophied his social skills.

Er Lan was accustomed to such behavior. In the Demonic Realm, cultivators often secluded themselves for centuries, their minds focused solely on cultivation.

Despite her growing impatience, she couldn’t deny his exceptional luck. Rare treasures seemed to appear wherever he went. His impulsive nature was a small price to pay for such fortune.

“If the map says it’s nearby, it must be here. Perhaps Shadow City requires a… trigger. It might not be a physical city.”

Xiao Haoran, his hand resting on the divine blade at his waist, consulted the Heavenly Book within his mind. “Impossible. Shadow City is a city, not a secret realm.”

Er Lan, reminding herself of his valuable contribution to her cultivation, forced a smile. “Perhaps I’m mistaken. Let’s keep searching.”

They continued their journey, Er Lan doing most of the talking, Xiao Haoran mostly disagreeing.

An elderly woman, basking in the sun by the roadside, spoke, her voice raspy. “Shadow City… That name sounds familiar. Not a good place. Why are you looking for it?”

They stopped, turning towards her.

Outside a ruined city, a figure stood before an earthen mound covered in vines, her gaze fixed on the reeds swaying gently in the breeze.

The reeds, tall and dense, surrounded the mound like a natural curtain, their movements creating an unsettling atmosphere.

Tao Ning, after a moment of contemplation, drew Poheng, slicing through the vines, revealing a weathered stone.

The Shadow City boundary marker, eroded by time and the elements, was barely recognizable, its inscription partially obscured, its shape distorted.

She stepped past the marker, walking down a narrow path.

As she disappeared into the city, the newly revealed marker was enveloped in a swirling mist, its surface turning a sickly grey.

520 shivered. 【Why are we here?】

Tao Ning’s voice was firm. “To slay demons and exorcise ghosts.”

520: 【I don’t understand.】

Tao Ning reached the city gates. Her journey had been surprisingly uneventful, no demonic beasts or vengeful spirits blocking her path.

She pushed against the decaying gates, the wood groaning in protest. The protective formation shattered under the force of her lightning spiritual energy, the sound like snapping wood echoing through the silent city.

The gates swung open, revealing the desolate landscape within, its silence amplifying the eerie creaking of the ancient hinges.

There was no latch, no barrier. Just… emptiness.

A gust of wind whipped through the city, stirring Tao Ning’s hair, the white feathers on her headband fluttering in the breeze.

“To slay demons and exorcise ghosts. And if the opportunity arises, kill someone and take their stuff.”

She walked down the main street, her hand never leaving her sword, her eyes scanning her surroundings.

Shadow City had once been a small, isolated settlement nestled at the foot of a mountain, neither prosperous nor impoverished, its inhabitants self-sufficient and wary of outsiders.

Their isolation stemmed from their geography: the impassable mountains behind them and the wide, treacherous river before their gates.

Shadow City, or perhaps, Ghost City.

Centuries ago, a rogue cultivator had arrived, seeking to harvest resentment and malice to fuel his spirit weapon. He had turned the city’s inhabitants into mindless puppets, forcing them to slaughter each other.

Deemed insufficient, he had sent his changgui – familiars created from the souls of his victims – to lure outsiders into the city. The disappearances of several cultivators had eventually led to the discovery of the source: Shadow City.

The city’s inhabitants, isolated and self-sufficient, had no contact with the outside world, their lives revolving around the cultivation of gu – venomous insects and other creatures used for both healing and harm.

The cultivators who came seeking answers had assumed it was a minor issue, only to discover a city infested with gu and their puppet-like victims.

One had barely escaped, his warning reaching the nearby sects, who had sent their forces to eradicate the threat.

Shadow City became a ghost city.

After walking for a while, Tao Ning felt a chill, turning sharply.

A loud bang echoed through the city as the gates slammed shut, like a monster’s jaws snapping closed.

She was alone, trapped within the city’s walls.

A rustling sound came from the buildings lining the street, like the skittering of countless insects, the sound amplified by the unnatural silence, making her skin crawl.

She looked towards the source of the sound, then scanned her surroundings, sensing… eyes… watching her from the shadows, their gazes unwavering.

Even 520 shivered. 【What was that?】

Tao Ning: “Scan the area?”

520: 【Did you check with your spiritual sense?】

Tao Ning, continuing her walk, replied, “…Yes. Quite a sight.”

520, morbidly curious, asked, 【Can you… elaborate?】

Tao Ning shook her head, using Poheng’s faint glow to illuminate her path. “Difficult to describe. Best seen in person.”

520, sensing danger, quickly suppressed its curiosity. 【I’ll pass.】

Tao Ning chuckled. “Just a swarm of black bugs. Crawling everywhere. Nothing interesting.”

As she walked deeper into the city, a grey mist began to coalesce, unable to approach her directly, swirling around her like a shroud.

While the rogue cultivator had been eliminated, the lingering resentment of the city’s victims remained, making it uninhabitable. The city gates had been sealed by a powerful formation.

But recently, the seal had been broken, the resentment intensifying.

Tao Ning raised her sleeve to cover her nose and mouth, not from the suffocating mist, but from the realization that it wasn’t mist, but a swarm of tiny, hair-thin, white insects.

A single insect was barely visible, but their combined mass created the illusion of a grey fog.

The jade token at her waist, bearing the character “Frost,” repelled them, a surprising but welcome discovery.

Then she realized – birds were natural predators of insects. The token, imbued with Cen Dianshuang’s aura, was a natural deterrent.

Where is that bird when I need it?

520, unable to bear the sight, shrieked, 【What are those?!】

Tao Ning: “Thousand-Thread Gu. Hair-thin insects that enter through the respiratory system, devouring the host’s brain within fifteen minutes, turning them into puppets controlled by the mother Gu.”

520 fell silent, either stunned into speechlessness or simply resigned to the horrors it was witnessing.

A dark shape emerged from the mist, running towards them, waving something frantically.

520, its voice strained, asked, 【And what is that?】

As a system, it avoided horror movies. Its previous hosts had all been matchmakers, never facing such… unpleasantness.

The figure threw something, and with a whoosh, a burst of flames erupted, incinerating a large section of the mist.

The brief flash of light illuminated the main street.

Tao Ning stopped, watching.

The figure had used a high-grade Fire Talisman. He had no other weapons. Probably a Talisman Cultivator.

And it revealed another weakness of the Gu insects: they were vulnerable to fire.

The figure, seizing the opportunity, turned to flee, then stopped, seeing another person standing nearby.

A living person. “Another victim of that cursed map? You should leave… Wait! Please, help me! I’m a Talisman Cultivator from the Heavenly Heart Sect!”

The incinerated Thousand-Thread Gu were reforming, drawn by the scent of living flesh, their mass coalescing into a suffocating grey cloud.

Seeing Tao Ning standing alone, seemingly unharmed, he assumed she was a powerful cultivator, pleading for her assistance.

Tao Ning: “A Heavenly Heart Sect Talisman Cultivator?”

The cultivator, pulling at his robes, confirmed, “Yes! I’m the last disciple of True Person Chang Xiang. If you save me, my master will reward you handsomely!”

The sharp clang of metal against metal, and Poheng, glowing faintly, sliced through the air, its lightning spiritual energy, a bane of evil creatures, decimating the swarm.

The cultivator, relieved, assuming his plea had been answered, rushed towards Tao Ning, hiding behind her. “Are you a rogue cultivator?”

Tao Ning: “No.”

Seeing the token at her waist, he gasped. “You’re from the Hanshan Sect? What are you doing in Shadow City?”

Tao Ning, focused on controlling her sword, replied casually, “Training mission. Slaying demons and exorcising ghosts.”

The cultivator: “I see.”

He slowly straightened up behind Tao Ning. The city’s perpetual twilight, shrouded in mist, obscured his face. If Tao Ning had turned, she would have seen its unnatural pallor.

“Are you… here to rescue someone?” His cheek twitched as he reached out towards Tao Ning.

His seemingly normal hand suddenly withered, the skin turning grey, a small lump bulging beneath the surface, about to burst and fly towards Tao Ning.

Then, he felt himself flying backwards, landing heavily on the ground.

He had been hit by something heavy, something… rectangular. Like the zither Tao Ning carried.

Coughing up blood, he clutched his chest, his voice filled with confusion. “Why did you hit me with a zither?”

Tao Ning, cradling Jianshu, looked down at him. “You stole my sword. You didn’t expect me to have a zither, did you?”

“…”

Realizing he had been discovered, he didn’t bother asking how. He lunged at Tao Ning.

“Poheng.” A flash of light, and the flying sword pierced his dantian, pinning him to the wall.

After consuming their host’s brain, Thousand-Thread Gu would seek out the most nutrient-rich part of the body: the cultivator’s dantian.

They treated it like a breeding ground, the strongest Gu becoming the mother, producing countless offspring.

This cultivator was already a puppet, controlled by the mother Gu.

He died without a struggle, his last breath releasing a swarm of immature Gu eggs.

【My eyes! My electronic eyes!】 520 shrieked, its voice filled with horror.

Sometimes, 520 truly wanted to quit. It had never experienced such… unpleasantness… in its long career.

Tao Ning, recalling Poheng, walked towards a nearby house, the sounds of a struggle echoing from within.

She had heard the commotion earlier, but had been delayed by the Gu-controlled cultivator.

A massive black spider clung to the roof, its legs tapping impatiently as it toyed with a group of young cultivators trapped in the courtyard below.

It wasn’t ready to kill them yet. Draining their spiritual energy before wrapping them in silk and consuming them alive was far more entertaining.

A young man, deflecting an attack with his sword, swallowed a handful of replenishing pills, his voice filled with despair. “Gu insects, walking corpses, and now a giant spider! Do they want us to live?!”

A young woman, equally distraught, cried, “Who said it was safe because there were no small bugs? A giant spider is obviously safe!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“It doesn’t matter who said it! What matters is whether we survive this!”

The spider raised its massive, hairy pincer, its shadow falling over the young woman, whose spiritual energy was completely depleted.

She couldn’t defend herself. This was the end.

A strong hand pulled her back, and a powerful Explosive Talisman flew from her hand, striking the spider’s pincer, severing it with a sickening crack. The spider shrieked, retreating.

The ruined courtyard, already in disrepair, suffered further damage from the spider’s thrashing limbs, making it even more difficult for the other cultivators to defend themselves.

The young woman, her heart pounding, thanked her rescuer. “Thank you, Senior Sister Pang! Be careful!”

Senior Sister Pang turned sharply, her eyes widening as she saw the spider’s remaining pincer descending towards her.

The relentless beast had targeted her, its attacks focused solely on her, forcing her back against a wall.

She tried to stand, but her injured meridians flared, and she coughed up blood.

“Senior Sister Pang!” The young woman cried, trying to reach her, but the spider’s massive legs blocked her path. Her sword strikes barely scratched its thick armor.

The scent of blood drew the Thousand-Thread Gu, their swarm thickening, making it even more difficult for the cultivators to defend themselves.

Trapped between a mid-Golden Core spider demon and a swarm of venomous insects, their situation seemed hopeless.

Senior Sister Pang, her back against the wall, closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

But the expected pain didn’t come. A gust of wind, a high-pitched shriek, then a heavy thud.

Something had died, but not her.

The sound of collapsing debris, the ruined house crumbling under the weight of something heavy, dust filling the air.

She opened her eyes to see a slender figure standing before her, two white feathers dangling from her headband.

“Senior Sister! Are you alright?” The young woman rushed over, helping her up.

Tao Ning, glancing at them, recalled Poheng, then looked at the small group of young cultivators. “Are you all from the Heavenly Heart Sect?”

Senior Sister Pang, staring at Tao Ning’s profile, gasped. “My savior?”

Chapter 65: Disciple and Wife

Artifact crafting was best done without delay. The process was complex, involving multiple intricate steps. As dawn broke, Jin Jiamu, having prepared the refining room, sent a message via crane, summoning Tao Ning.

A refiner’s workshop was a sacred space, more private than a bedchamber. Allowing someone inside signified a level of trust that went beyond mere words. Each refiner’s workshop was said to reflect their unique personality.

Jin Jiamu, despite her boisterous nature and unpredictable behavior, had a surprisingly… disorganized workshop.

Tao Ning almost couldn’t find a place to stand.

Jin Jiamu kicked something aside with a clang. “It’s a bit… messy. Make yourself comfortable.”

Tao Ning stood on the small cleared space, watching as Jin Jiamu, like a diligent ant, began organizing the chaos around her.

The floor was littered with half-finished projects, abandoned due to creative blocks, and various refining materials, some processed, some raw, some simply… ruined.

This was normal. Every successful artifact refiner had a graveyard of failed attempts.

The Miro Sea, the deepest sea in the Radiant Realm, was said to be bottomless, even Mahayana cultivators unable to reach its depths, its domain ruled by powerful demons.

Alchemy was expensive and prone to explosions. Artifact refining was no different.

Tao Ning looked at the pile of Fire Spirit Stones beside the roaring furnace. Jin Jiamu, despite her outward carelessness, had prepared ample fuel.

Seeing Tao Ning’s gaze, she puffed up her chest. “Don’t worry. I have plenty.”

Having cleared a space, Jin Jiamu surveyed the room, then sighed. “I heard Demon Lord Qingji’s Refining Fire Palace was a spatial artifact, shrinking to the size of a walnut, light as a feather. It had nine hundred and ninety-nine chambers. Only the main hall was used for refining. The rest were filled with materials and finished artifacts.”

Tao Ning: “You want to emulate Demon Lord Qingji?”

Jin Jiamu, lowering her voice, since they were alone, replied, “Which artifact refiner doesn’t aspire to be like her?”

Such sentiments weren’t expressed publicly.

Tao Ning picked up a half-finished project, a small bronze horse, like a child’s toy, but its weight and intricate joints suggested a more complex purpose.

Abandoned by Jin Jiamu, it remained unfinished.

“I heard from Master that the Refining Fire Palace was also a miniature city, its defenses impenetrable, even by Mahayana cultivators.”

Sighing, Jin Jiamu’s face fell. “It’s a shame. After she disappeared, no one could control the palace. It was looted, abandoned, its treasures lost.”

Tao Ning: “Perhaps it wasn’t a great loss to her.”

Jin Jiamu considered this. “Maybe she just saw it as a giant, flying, indestructible storage shed.”

Tao Ning: “…”

Jin Jiamu: “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tao Ning, turning her attention back to the bronze horse, said, “This design is viable. Why did you abandon it? You were close to creating a puppet horse.”

Jin Jiamu’s interest piqued. “Close? What was I missing?”

Tao Ning: “Add some Xuanhan Iron, reforge it with Three Gold Crystals, and add a small piece of Ironclad Beast’s inner core. Once it’s complete, carve Swiftness runes on its legs, create a storage space within its body for weapons…”

“If you want to be… devious, you can use Snowsilk Iron needles for its mane and tail. Snowsilk Iron becomes incredibly flexible when finely spun. Imagine a thousand needles flying towards your enemy. Unescapable.”

“Its appearance should resemble a spirit horse, making it difficult to distinguish from the real thing. Perfect for both defense and travel.”

Jin Jiamu, catching the tossed horse, said, “That’s… complicated. Hardly ‘one step away.’”

“Once you’ve mastered this, everything else will be easy.” Tao Ning, turning away, summoned the Flame Dragon Furnace, its heat intensifying the already sweltering workshop.

“Snowsilk Iron needles as fine as horsehair…”

Jin Jiamu initially found the idea absurd, but the more she considered it, the more feasible it seemed. A sudden realization struck her.

“Wait a minute. You know how to refine artifacts?”

The muttering behind Tao Ning ceased, her attention now focused on the roaring flames.

Jin Jiamu rushed over, pointing at the half-person-tall furnace. “What is this?”

Tao Ning stumbled slightly. “The Flame Dragon Furnace.”

Jin Jiamu shook her head. “No, I mean… what’s on its head?”

Tao Ning, removing the cooking pot from the furnace’s lid, muttered, “I used it to cook last night. Forgot to take it off.”

The Flame Dragon Furnace, unaccustomed to the absence of the pot, flickered its flames uncertainly, as if asking, No cooking today?

Jin Jiamu shrieked. “A cooking pot?! You used an Earth-grade, first-tier furnace to cook?!”

Such disrespect towards a legendary furnace! Her own furnace was meticulously cared for, polished and pampered daily.

The sight was appalling. She almost reached for a cloth to wipe the imaginary soot from the Flame Dragon Furnace.

Before she could touch it, the furnace flinched, its flames flaring defensively.

Jin Jiamu realized the furnace had developed a spirit, and it recognized Tao Ning as its master.

After a moment of stunned silence, she turned to Tao Ning, who was sorting through materials. “Are you… looking for a furnace tender?”

Three months later, the rhythmic clang of hammer against metal continued, the furnace fires burning brightly.

Jin Jiamu, cradling a zither, her fingers gently plucking the strings, looked at Tao Ning, who stood before the furnace. “I can’t tell anymore… which one of us is from an artifact refining family.”

Refining, like alchemy, was a secretive process, its techniques closely guarded.

Even her master wouldn’t share her methods so openly. She couldn’t tell if Tao Ning was simply confident, or… naive.

“You’re teaching me everything. I’m practically stealing your knowledge.”

Tao Ning, examining the blade in her hand, said, “The tip is slightly crooked. I need the hammer.”

Jin Jiamu, her initial reservations forgotten, resigned herself to her role as furnace tender, retrieving the hammer.

Since her offer three months ago, she had become Tao Ning’s assistant, the girl’s refining skills far surpassing her own. While unable to assist with the complex tasks, she was kept busy with the smaller, more mundane ones.

But she felt… fulfilled. Her stagnant mid-Foundation Establishment cultivation was showing signs of progress.

Like a scholar’s journey, practical experience was more valuable than books.

The sword, nearing completion, glowed faintly, the sound of the hammer against its surface shifting from a dull thud to a clear ring, then back to a deeper resonance.

Not the sound of ordinary metal, but something ancient and powerful, like the sword itself.

Placing the blade back into the furnace for the final tempering, Tao Ning retrieved the zither, her fingers moving swiftly as she carved formations onto its surface.

Jin Jiamu watched, not daring to interrupt.

In her mind, her master came first, then Tao Ning. Demon Lord Qingji, a figure beyond comparison, was in a category of her own.

As the last stroke was completed, the zither shimmered, and Jin Jiamu heard a faint, ethereal melody, like a whisper from the heavens.

“Is it… done?” It felt… incomplete.

Tao Ning: “Not yet. But the sword is.”

Just as she spoke, the Flame Dragon Furnace trembled violently, like a caged beast about to break free.

“Whose furnace is about to explode?!”

“Is Qianqi Peak experiencing an earthquake?!”

“Someone’s lost control of their furnace!”

The alarmed cries echoed through Qianqi Peak, especially near the refining workshops, where disciples emerged, looking around for the source of the commotion.

Even the Qianqi Peak’s Senior Sister emerged, her face etched with concern. The only closed door… bore Jin Jiamu’s token.

“It’s Junior Sister Jiamu! She’s still inside!”

The tremors intensified, shaking the entire peak. Elder Qianlian, jolted from her meditation, emerged from her cave dwelling.

“What’s happening? Who’s refining?”

A nearby disciple, equally confused, replied, “…It seems to be coming from the Research Hall.”

Elder Qianlian, her brow furrowed, looked towards the Research Hall, seeing dark clouds gathering overhead. “Evacuate the Research Hall! A divine artifact is about to be born!”

The disciple, scratching his head, muttered, “So it’s not an explosion?”

Elder Qianlian, activating the peak’s protective formation, glared at him. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

“Yes, Peak Master!” The disciple rushed towards the Research Hall, relaying the message.

As the bewildered disciples poured out of the Research Hall, someone asked, “Is everyone out?”

“Second Senior Sister is in seclusion. Sixth Senior Brother is collecting materials… It’s Jiamu! Junior Sister Jiamu is still inside!”

At the epicenter of the tremors, Jin Jiamu, losing her footing, sat down abruptly, sneezing violently.

“Who’s calling me?” Rubbing her nose, she looked at the glowing sword hovering above the furnace, her jaw dropping.

Beside her, Tao Ning also watched, mesmerized, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. She had seen this before, but from a lower perspective.

Like a child, looking up at a sword wreathed in red and blue flames, the furnace’s wide mouth spewing fire, two characters faintly visible near the hilt.

The image flickered, then faded. She couldn’t quite grasp it.

A tug on her skirt. Jin Jiamu’s voice, filled with excitement, broke through her reverie. “What are you going to name it?”

“Poheng,” Tao Ning replied.

As the name was spoken, the sword’s glow intensified, the characters “Poheng” appearing on the hilt.

A deafening crack echoed through the sky as the long-awaited lightning struck, the force of the impact making the onlookers cover their ears.

But even covering their ears couldn’t block the sheer power of the tribulation lightning, a sight few had witnessed.

They stared at the Research Hall in awe.

Elder Qianlian, watching from afar, murmured, “A divine artifact, born with a spirit… It must have been named. Heaven has sent down its tribulation… Three months… This isn’t something my disciple could achieve.”

Turning, she saw Lizhu approaching. “Sect Leader, I thought you were…”

Lizhu, her gaze fixed on the distant storm clouds, said, “I returned after seeing her off. What’s happening here?”

Elder Qianlian: “A divine artifact is being born…”

Lizhu: “A divine artifact? Who crafted it?”

Elder Qianlian shook her head uncertainly. “I’m not sure. I’ll ask when they emerge.”

As the tribulation clouds began to disperse, a faint, ethereal melody echoed through the air, drawing them back together.

Elder Qianlian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Not one, but two divine artifacts?! Even our Grand Ancestor couldn’t achieve that!”

A zither, hovering in mid-air, descended gracefully, settling into its owner’s arms.

A flash of lightning illuminated the side of the zither, and Jin Jiamu saw the characters appear, then fade.

The zither’s owner had whispered a single word: “Jianshu – Mountain Stream.”

The zither pulsed with spiritual energy, flying through the hole Poheng had created in the roof, startling Jin Jiamu, who thought it was rejecting the name.

The tribulation lightning intensified, striking down again and again, making her fear for the zither’s safety.

But like the sword, it endured, its power seemingly amplified by the lightning.

Jin Jiamu, staring at Tao Ning, could only utter a single word, “Monster.” Then, “Are you even human?”

“I’m a human cultivator. There’s no doubt about that,” Tao Ning replied, then added, “You’re about to reach Golden Core. You should enter seclusion. It seems artifact refining suits you.”

With that, she grabbed the zither, slung Poheng over her shoulder, and left.

The Flame Dragon Furnace, shrinking to a fraction of its size, followed her through the hole in the roof, as if fearing abandonment.

Jin Jiamu, blinking in the sunlight, staring at the empty doorway, muttered, “But I’m only at mid-Foundation Establishment…”

As Tao Ning disappeared, two figures landed on the ruined roof: Sect Leader Lizhu and Elder Qianlian.

Having rushed over to witness the birth of a divine artifact, they found Jin Jiamu, on the verge of a Golden Core breakthrough, sitting amidst the debris, a dazed expression on her face.

Elder Qianlian grabbed her by the arm. “You’re about to reach Golden Core.”

Jin Jiamu, feeling the pressure building in her dantian, still reeling from witnessing the creation of two divine artifacts, repeated, “But I’m only at mid-Foundation Establishment…”

Elder Qianlian: “Don’t you realize you’ve skipped two realms? Come with me. You need to enter seclusion immediately.”

Jin Jiamu: “Me?”

Elder Qianlian, not bothering to explain, dragged her away.

The ruined refining room was now empty.

Lizhu, standing under the hole in the roof, her hands on her hips, sighed. “You’re both so impatient. I haven’t even had a chance to ask any questions.”

---

A small bird soared through the blue sky, landing on a branch.

A woman carrying a sword approached, passing beneath the tree, entering the bird’s field of vision.

Three months had passed since the creation of the two divine artifacts. Jin Jiamu, having advanced two realms, was in seclusion under Elder Qianlian’s strict supervision.

Returning to Wangshu Peak, Tao Ning had learned that Cen Dianshuang, unable to control her surging cultivation, had been sent to Thunder God Valley by the Sect Leader half a month earlier.

A brief message, left on a jade slip.

Tao Ning had considered contacting Cen Dianshuang, but decided against it. Disturbing someone during a crucial breakthrough was unwise.

She remained on Wangshu Peak, reaching Golden Core without any guidance.

After her breakthrough, she had left Wangshu Peak secretly, without informing anyone.

The Golden Core tribulation had, of course, attracted attention, but Lizhu, after observing from afar, confirming the girl’s success, had left her undisturbed, not wanting to interrupt her consolidation. When she returned, Wangshu Peak was empty.

Without Cen Dianshuang, Tao Ning was less… patient.

Passing beneath the tree, she stopped, looking up at the small, white bird perched among the leaves.

The bird blinked its beady black eyes, tilting its head as it met her gaze.

After a long moment, Tao Ning blinked, rubbing her eyes. “I lose the staring contest.”

The bird continued to stare, unblinking.

Tao Ning crossed her arms. “Aren’t you here for me? I crafted a sword and a zither. Care to listen to me play?”

The bird: “…”

Seeing its blank stare, Tao Ning frowned. “Are all Shangxi birds this good at pretending?”

The bird finally reacted, hopping on the branch, dislodging a leaf, its small beak opening. “Chirp, chirp!”

Tao Ning, surprised, echoed, “Chirp, chirp?”

The bird, hopping excitedly, repeated, “Chirp, chirp! Chirp, chirp!”

Its movements, like a small white ball bouncing on the branch, revealed its pure white plumage, devoid of any other color.

Tao Ning: “…”

Her face paled, refusing to acknowledge her mistake, she quickly walked away.

As if nothing had happened.

In Thunder God Valley, a massive, white-feathered bird let out a soft chuckle.

Her Soul Transformation tribulation was different from a human cultivator’s. Transforming from a chick to an adult Shangxi took years.

Lately, she had been struggling to control her surging power, her meridians aching, forcing her to revert to her true form for relief.

But it wasn’t as effective anymore. Her size fluctuated uncontrollably, her inexperience nearly crushing her precious plum blossom vase when she accidentally transformed from a hand-sized bird to a small mountain.

Fortunately, she had reacted quickly, shifting her weight to a nearby tree, which, though crushed under her weight, spared the vase and the delicate blossoms.

She was relieved.

Thankfully, the Grand Elder wasn’t in the vicinity. Destroying the carefully cultivated flora of her secluded valley would have been… awkward.

As Tao Ning walked away, the bird also took flight.

After a short distance, a single white feather detached itself, drifting down on the breeze.

A hand caught it, holding it up to the light. While invisible in daylight, under the moonlight, it would shimmer with a faint, ethereal glow.

The feather’s shaft was thicker than before, showing signs of maturity.

Tao Ning thought, The bird’s deception skills have improved.

Tucking the feather away, she continued her journey.

She planned to explore the world, awaiting Cen Dianshuang’s return. She had no specific destination. The original storyline glossed over this period.

With Cen Dianshuang in seclusion and the protagonist busy with his own adventures, Tao Ning could only wait, living each day as it came.

The next time the bird appeared, Tao Ning was fighting off a group of bandits.

It arrived at an inopportune moment, the battle nearly over, Tao Ning’s robes barely stained with blood, her opponents dead.

“You were asking for death,” she muttered, sheathing her sword, a single white feather, plucked from Cen Dianshuang’s bird form, adorning her hair.

A familiar feather.

Cen Dianshuang, meditating in the valley, her white robes flowing around her, a pair of snow-white wings folded behind her:

…Why is my feather in her hair?

Chapter 64: Disciple and Wife

Elder Qianlian, snapping out of her reverie, looked at her disciple, who had been diligently cracking spirit melon seeds all afternoon, her eyes questioning.

“Master, I…” Jin Jiamu began, but Tao Ning interrupted with a gasp, pulling her away.

No one understood what the gasp meant, only watching as Tao Ning led Jin Jiamu away, offering the elders an apologetic smile.

Once they were out of earshot, Tao Ning turned to Jin Jiamu, her expression serious. “I need your help.”

“Me?” Jin Jiamu pointed at herself, giving Tao Ning a You’re joking, right? look. “You want me to craft your spirit weapons?”

Even I don’t believe in my skills. Don’t tease me.

Tao Ning patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Of course you can. Ten years after joining the sect, you’re already at mid-Foundation Establishment. You’ll reach Golden Core any day now. And after that, Nascent Soul isn’t far behind. You’ll surpass your master soon. I have faith in you.”

Jin Jiamu: “Am I really that good?”

Tao Ning gave her a Don’t you trust me? look. “Of course you are.”

Jin Jiamu’s confidence surged.

Hesitating for a moment, a mix of confidence and gratitude swelling in her chest, she said, “You really believe in me? No one’s ever said that before. My master always asks if I refine with my feet, telling me to stop accidentally blowing things up.”

Tao Ning, gritting her teeth, repeated, “I believe in you.”

Jin Jiamu’s eyes filled with tears. “Tao Ning, you’re too kind. You’re a wonderful person.”

A while later, Elder Qianlian watched as her disciple, notorious for her explosive refining experiments, rushed back, her face beaming. “Master, I’m going to craft Tao Ning’s spirit weapons!”

Elder Qianlian, looking at her usually boisterous, hammer-wielding disciple, sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “Go on, then.”

Jin Jiamu thanked her profusely and skipped away happily.

As the elders continued their conversation, Jin Jiamu, no longer wanting to endure the Sect Leader’s rambling now that Tao Ning was here, dragged her friend towards the red plum grove on Qianqi Peak.

The grove, perpetually covered in snow due to Elder Qianlian’s artifact-induced weather manipulation, was a stunning sight, the red blossoms against the white snow a unique feature of Qianqi Peak.

Jin Jiamu, no longer the silent girl from ten years ago, now chattered incessantly, recounting her experiences, her daily routine of cultivation and artifact refining. Tao Ning followed, listening patiently.

Spotting a particularly beautiful branch laden with blossoms, Jin Jiamu suggested, “Let’s have a competition. The winner gets the plum branch.”

Tao Ning shrugged. “Sure.”

After ten years of traveling and countless battles, Tao Ning wasn’t afraid of a little competition. The outcome of a duel between a hammer-wielding refiner and a seasoned combat veteran was predictable.

Tao Ning’s swordsmanship was fluid and effortless, easily deflecting Jin Jiamu’s attacks after a brief exchange.

Jin Jiamu, her wrist throbbing, quickly conceded. “I give up! You win!”

She watched as Tao Ning, her movements graceful and swift, plucked the plum branch, thinking, If it were me, I’d look like a goose trying to take flight.

“You could have disarmed me in three moves. Why drag it out?” she said, then, glancing around, lowered her voice. “Don’t let anyone from Shuhan Peak see that.”

Tao Ning, examining the branch, considering ways to preserve its beauty, tilted her head. “Why?”

Jin Jiamu, confirming they were alone, explained, “Shuhan Peak is full of sword fanatics. They’re always looking for a challenge. Someone with your experience… you’d be fighting non-stop. They’d destroy Master’s precious plum grove.”

Tao Ning looked at the branch in her hand. “Elder Qianlian’s precious plum grove?”

Jin Jiamu nodded, then, after a moment of silence, patted Tao Ning’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll distract Master with another branch.”

Tao Ning, relieved, said, “Thank you.”

Jin Jiamu grinned. “Don’t mention it. Master wouldn’t actually kill me.”

Tao Ning: …Having a disciple who indiscriminately throws people under the bus must be a blessing.

A snapping sound, and Tao Ning turned to see Jin Jiamu, using a rock for leverage, plucking another plum branch.

Landing slightly awkwardly, she waved away Tao Ning’s outstretched hand. “I’m fine!” Then, still slightly off-balance, she rushed towards her master, shouting, “Master! Look! A beautiful plum branch! I picked it for you!”

Tao Ning: “…”

Judging by Jin Jiamu’s wild, careening run and the trail of fallen petals, it was questionable how many blossoms would remain by the time she reached Elder Qianlian.

She finally understood Elder Qianlian’s newfound serenity. It wasn’t enlightenment, but exhaustion from dealing with her disciple.

“What’s this? A stick?” Elder Qianlian, holding the nearly bare branch, looked at Jin Jiamu with a raised eyebrow.

Jin Jiamu, scratching her head sheepishly, replied, “A plum branch, Master. For you.”

Elder Qianlian examined the branch, then sighed. “Next time, try not to run so fast. The blossoms are delicate.”

“Yes, Master.” Jin Jiamu always agreed readily, then promptly forgot.

Elder Qianlian, accustomed to her disciple’s antics, placed the branch aside, intending to take it back to her refining room.

Cen Dianshuang, initially listening to Lizhu, her attention now drawn by Jin Jiamu’s return, glanced towards the grove.

Lizhu, noticing her distraction, calmly sipped her tea.

Cen Dianshuang straightened slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips. Lizhu, following her gaze, saw Tao Ning walking towards them, a plum branch clutched carefully in her hands.

Lizhu, her eyes lowered, continued sipping her tea.

Tao Ning, shielding the branch, her movements more careful than Jin Jiamu’s, approached Cen Dianshuang, the air around her filled with the fragrance of plum blossoms.

“Master, I found this in the grove. I used a small spell to preserve its beauty. I hope you like it.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Let me see.” She took the branch, her fingers brushing against Tao Ning’s.

She wasn’t particularly fond of plum blossoms, not like her Senior Sister Qianlian, but receiving it from Tao Ning made it seem… special.

After admiring it for a moment, she retrieved a delicate, ice-cracked vase, placing the branch inside. The red blossoms against the white vase were a striking combination.

Tao Ning: “It looks beautiful. The vase… it complements the blossoms perfectly.”

Cen Dianshuang, pleased with her disciple’s approval, simply nodded.

Elder Qianlian added, “Next time you pick a branch, try to match Tao Ning’s speed. Don’t run so fast.”

Seeing Lizhu admiring the vase, one of her disciples, eager to please, offered, “Master, I’ll find you the most beautiful plum blossom too.”

“Me too!”

“I have a vase for it!”

The enthusiastic Shuhan Peak disciples started towards the grove.

Lizhu: “Wait. Come back.”

Stopping them, she said, “I don’t like plum blossoms. Don’t destroy your Grand-Aunt’s grove. Go practice your swordsmanship.”

The disciples, disappointed, but obedient, turned and left.

The rhythmic clang of swords echoed through the grove again. Lizhu, watching them go, sighed. “These children…”

Elder Qianlian nodded in agreement. “They’ll mature eventually. They’re still young.”

Cen Dianshuang, preoccupied with her new treasure, considered where to place it in her cave.

Somewhere safe, where it wouldn’t be crushed by her true form or blown away by her wings.

She remembered a wind-protecting artifact Elder Qianlian had given her. She would have to find it.

Jin Jiamu’s earlier warning proved prophetic. As the last Shuhan Peak disciple was leaving, she spotted Tao Ning’s spirit sword, a sudden thought striking her. “Senior Sister Tao, you’ve been traveling for ten years. Your swordsmanship must have improved significantly. Care for a spar?”

Tao Ning: “I…”

The eager disciple grabbed her arm. “Come on, don’t be shy. I’ll go first. No spiritual energy, just sword forms.”

Before Tao Ning could protest, or even speak to Cen Dianshuang, she was dragged away, reaching out for help. “Wait! Master, save me!”

Cen Dianshuang, holding the vase, simply waved dismissively.

The disciple, turning back, saw Cen Dianshuang, then added, “Junior Sister Jiamu, you join too.”

“Me again?” Jin Jiamu pointed at herself, her face a mask of disbelief. Why am I always the target?

She had simply wanted to watch, but now, flanked by two Shuhan Peak disciples, she was also dragged towards the training grounds.

“Wait, I’m an artifact refiner! Why are you dragging me into this?”

The two disciples, one on each side, replied, “Artifact refiner or not, everyone learns the Carefree Sword. No exceptions.”

Jin Jiamu, her face a picture of misery, resigned herself to her fate. I’m just here to be beaten up.

Her self-assessment proved accurate. Disarmed after ten moves, she was relegated to sparring with a younger disciple.

Tao Ning, however, was an unknown quantity. The first disciple, initially holding back, soon realized her mistake. Forgetting Jin Jiamu’s warning, Tao Ning, even after being disarmed, continued her attack, dodging a potentially fatal blow and seizing her opponent’s sword with two fingers.

Silence fell as everyone watched, their gazes fixed on Tao Ning’s hand. The attacking disciple, unable to withdraw her sword, stared at Tao Ning in surprise, giving Tao Ning the opportunity to pull her closer and disarm her with a swift strike.

The sword clattered to the ground. The disciple, her spirit weapon inseparable from her since its creation, was stunned.

Recovering quickly, her combat instincts taking over, she lunged at Tao Ning, fists flying.

Both, forgetting the “no spiritual energy” rule, unleashed their full power, turning the friendly spar into a serious duel, their movements fluid and powerful, a display of the Hanshan Sect’s martial arts.

The other Shuhan Peak disciples, abandoning their own practice, gathered to watch.

The disciple sparring with Tao Ning was Lizhu’s thirtieth direct disciple, fifty years into her training, at the early Golden Core realm.

While not the most powerful among her peers, she was considered a rising star, unmatched within her realm.

After a fierce exchange, Tao Ning forced her back with a powerful palm strike, both their gazes fixed on their discarded weapons.

The disciple, regaining her footing, summoned her sword, preparing to attack.

She was fast, but Tao Ning was faster. Breaking through her opponent’s defenses, her spirit sword, crackling with faint purple lightning, stopped a hair’s breadth from the disciple’s throat.

Tao Ning, her eyes lowered, her expression impassive, declared, “You lose, Senior Sister.”

The disciple, glancing at the ordinary, Academy-issued spirit sword at her throat, was stunned.

It wasn’t a personalized spirit weapon, lacking the power and precision of a true bonded blade. Most disciples with resources crafted their own swords, abandoning the basic, mass-produced ones.

Yet, Tao Ning had defeated her with this… unremarkable blade.

Catching her breath, she conceded. “Yes, I lose.”

She had given her all, yet it wasn’t enough. Perhaps it was time to consider traveling the world, honing her skills.

“Thank you for the match.” Tao Ning sheathed her sword with a flourish, turning to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?” another disciple called out.

Tao Ning, looking back, her expression confused, replied, “Isn’t the winner allowed to… leave?” Her voice wavered slightly.

The disciple explained, “Yes, you can leave Senior Sister Lu, but not us.”

Tao Ning: “…”

Jin Jiamu, her face buried in her hands, an artifact refiner now mimicking a Buddhist cultivator’s prayer gesture, muttered, “Amitabha.”

Looking at the eager, battle-ready disciples surrounding her, Tao Ning finally remembered something she had forgotten. “Wait, that’s not what I meant! Master, save me!”

Cen Dianshuang, sitting calmly under the red plum tree, watched as Tao Ning was dragged away, the Shuhan Peak disciples chanting, “Even Elder Cen can’t save you now!”

Lizhu, after observing the scene for a while, turned to Cen Dianshuang. “Your disciple is rather… attached to you.”

Cen Dianshuang: “She’s simply expressing her filial piety.”

Lizhu, seeing her expression, knew she was pleased with her disciple. She would have been too.

Intelligent, resourceful, talented, respectful, and surprisingly mature for her age.

But there were certain… issues… Lizhu decided to be the one to address them.

Elder Qianlian had already returned to her refining room, her materials nearing completion.

With no outsiders present, Lizhu, gesturing towards the plum blossom in Cen Dianshuang’s hand, asked, “Do you remember True Person Yunbi?”

Cen Dianshuang, her gaze no longer fixed on the training grounds, her expression unchanged, replied, “Of course. The master-disciple pair who eloped, becoming the left and right protectors of Demon Lord Qingji’s palace. Yunbi’s partner died a hundred years ago during a breakthrough, and Yunbi herself perished while searching for Soul-Gathering Grass. Why do you ask?” She looked at Lizhu curiously.

Lizhu: “What are your thoughts on their relationship?”

Cen Dianshuang’s expression turned serious. “They’ve been dead for a century. I don’t judge the deceased.”

Lizhu, slightly exasperated, began, “But…”

Cen Dianshuang lowered her gaze, adopting a submissive, Scold me if you must, Senior Sister, I’ll accept any punishment, expression.

This tactic had always been effective. Lizhu rarely scolded her when she looked like that, often indulging her instead.

Years of indulgence, however, had only emboldened her junior sister. Lizhu felt a mix of exasperation and fondness.

Judging by Cen Dianshuang’s demeanor, the situation with her disciple hadn’t progressed beyond a certain point. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have brought the girl back. This was a clear cry for help, a plea for guidance.

Cen Dianshuang’s voice was soft, almost pleading. “I’ve made a mistake, Senior Sister. Scold me.”

Lizhu stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth, her long robes swirling around her. Shaking her head, she said, “I won’t scold you.”

Cen Dianshuang: “Are you going to hit me?”

Lizhu shook her head again. “I would never.”

Stopping, she turned to Cen Dianshuang, her expression serious. “Do you know you’re nearing another breakthrough?”

Cen Dianshuang, her hand instinctively covering her wrist, nodded. She knew. She had reached the peak of Nascent Soul. Delaying her advancement any longer would damage her spiritual core.

Lizhu: “Dianshuang, I know you. You’ve never been one for attachments. I don’t want to see you hurt. But can she… can she bear the weight of your secrets?”

She placed her hands gently on Cen Dianshuang’s shoulders, her voice soft, almost pleading.

“I’m here. The Hanshan Sect can protect both of you. But she’s young. Can she withstand the scrutiny, the judgment?”

Her first instinct hadn’t been to protect the sect’s reputation, but to consider the consequences for her junior sister.

She was the Sect Leader, but she was also Cen Dianshuang’s senior sister.

Cen Dianshuang began, “I…”

Then, her brow furrowed, and both looked up at the sky, where dark clouds were gathering.

Lizhu handed her a pill. “Take this. It’s not time yet. Shattering the Nascent Soul and transforming into Soul Transformation is a dangerous step. I’ll take you to Thunder God Valley.”

Cen Dianshuang swallowed the pill, the surging energy within her subsiding, the storm clouds dispersing.

“Thunder God Valley? Isn’t that where the Grand Elder cultivates in seclusion?”

Lizhu: “Precisely. It’s a place of peace and tranquility. I’ve already spoken to the Grand Elder. She’s agreed. And the Thunder God Stones in the valley can help you withstand the tribulation lightning. Once you’ve overcome that, your path will be much smoother.”

If she survived the Soul Transformation tribulation, she wouldn’t have to endure the pain of her meridians being forcibly expanded. Most cultivators struggled with it once or twice. Cen Dianshuang had endured it since childhood, clinging to her master’s hand for comfort.

A demon’s innate talent was often far greater than a human’s, but their tribulations were also more severe.

The previous Sect Leader, fearing for her young disciple’s life, had devised the “mortal realm training” strategy.

She’s a hybrid. Perhaps Heaven will consider her human.

Cen Dianshuang, seeing no other option, agreed.

Having finally escaped the Shuhan Peak disciples, Tao Ning returned to the red plum tree to find it deserted. Cen Dianshuang, and the vase, were gone.

“Where did she go?” She noticed something on the table.

A jade slip, resting on Cen Dianshuang’s usual spot. Assuming it was for her, she picked it up and pressed it against her forehead.

Relieved, she learned that Cen Dianshuang had been summoned to the Shuhan Peak meeting hall and would return later.

Seizing the opportunity, Tao Ning slipped back to Wangshu Peak.

Even with her skills, facing a group of eager challengers was tiring. Discretion was the better part of valor.

Jin Jiamu, however, couldn’t escape. This was her home territory. She called out, “The Sect Leader and Tao Ning have left! Aren’t you going back?”

The Shuhan Peak disciples, seeing this was true, dispersed.

Later that night, Cen Dianshuang, her cultivation suppressed, returned to Wangshu Peak, her senior sister’s words echoing in her mind.

“When are you planning to go to Thunder God Valley?”

After a moment of thought, she replied, “I’ll wait until she finishes crafting her spirit weapons.”

“She,” of course, referred to Tao Ning.

Lizhu, assuming it wouldn’t take long, agreed.

After ten years of living together, Cen Dianshuang instinctively wanted to fly towards the small, brightly lit house halfway up the mountain, but her own dwelling was at the summit.

She stopped on the path, her heart heavy, and continued walking.

In the distance, she saw a figure moving around the small house, the scent of freshly cooked food drifting on the night breeze.

It was Tao Ning. Sensing her master’s arrival, she stepped out of the house, the Flame Dragon Furnace, its task complete, floating beside her, illuminating the darkness.

Cen Dianshuang stopped, her heart pounding.

Tao Ning waited, then, as Cen Dianshuang approached, she hurried forward, taking her hand and pulling her towards the house. “Master, you’re back! I just finished making some pastries. I was waiting for you.”

Cen Dianshuang, allowing herself to be led, her hand still clasped in Tao Ning’s, asked, “Sweet?”

Tao Ning: “Just a little. Not too sweet.”

Seated at the table, Cen Dianshuang took a bite, then, meeting Tao Ning’s expectant gaze, said, “Very sweet.”

“Very sweet? Did I add too much honey?” Tao Ning took a bite, but didn’t find it overly sweet, wondering if her culinary skills had deteriorated.

Taking another bite, she looked at Cen Dianshuang. “Master, is it really that sweet?”

Cen Dianshuang, looking at her, smiled. “Yes, very sweet.”