Chapter 44: Disciple and Wife
After the last earth-shattering thunderclap, silence finally descended.
The Ten Thousand Mountains, once a verdant paradise brimming with spiritual energy, a haven for cultivation, was now a scorched wasteland.
Cracked earth, devoid of life, stretched for miles. Not a living creature remained. Flames licked at charred wood, spitting crimson sparks into the air.
Cultivators in the distant city watched. When the thunderclouds dispersed without the customary auspicious clouds and heavenly staircase, they knew the unknown senior had failed their tribulation, their essence scattered into the ether.
Some mourned, while others, harboring different intentions, eagerly set off toward the Ten Thousand Mountains.
Such a powerful tribulation suggested a reclusive elder from some hidden sect, likely possessing a trove of treasures and divine weapons. Even a few scraps would be a boon.
As soon as the thunder ceased, cultivators arrived on their flying swords, hoping to scavenge some remnants.
Fortunes are sought at the risk of life, a perfectly normal pursuit. Those from established sects simply remembered to change their attire and refrain from shouting their master’s name.
Numerous cultivators combed the area, searching for the site of the tribulation. Their lower cultivation levels prevented them from penetrating the concealing formations, leaving them stumbling around like headless flies.
This only fueled their excitement. Formations capable of withstanding such a powerful tribulation hinted at even greater treasures.
The unfortunate senior, they mused, had likely believed their formations impenetrable, failing to account for their own mortality. Under the Nine Heavens Tribulation, body and soul were extinguished.
Cultivators in various robes buzzed around like bees, oblivious to the fact they were repeatedly passing through the epicenter of the tribulation, assuming they simply hadn’t found it yet.
At the heart of the scorched earth, within the crater left by the Mahayana cultivator’s tribulation, a small, inconspicuous mound of dark earth lay undisturbed.
“Found anything?”
“Nothing. Are we in the wrong place?”
“The Ten Thousand Mountains are vast. Let’s keep searching… There’s something over there!”
One pointed into the distance, and the cultivators in the vicinity swarmed toward the indicated spot, some flying, others running.
After the cultivators hovering above the mound left empty-handed, the seemingly natural lump of earth shifted slightly. It trembled violently, and a pale hand emerged, groping blindly in the air.
The hand seemed to be searching for something to grasp, but after exploring the immediate vicinity, it retreated in disappointment, realizing it was at the very center of the tribulation’s impact. The hand then swept away the dirt covering a face, creating a small pocket for breathing.
The buried figure slowly opened their eyes, revealing emerald green pupils. They blinked in confusion, and the green rapidly faded to ordinary black, so quickly it seemed like an illusion.
The figure shifted, using their other hand to push themselves up. A crunching sound emanated from the mound, like bones reforming or stones grinding together.
Tao Ning looked around. She was surrounded by a desolate wasteland.
520’s system voice announced: 【Ding ding ding! Recovery potion administered. This work-related injury will not be added to your bill; expenses covered.】
Black earth clung to her like clothing, her long hair spread around her. Through the strands, the gruesome wounds on her shoulders visibly healed at an astonishing rate.
520, bracing itself, attempted a lighthearted tone: 【So, how was it, getting struck by lightning?】
As soon as the words left its processing unit, 520 wanted to slap itself. What a tactless question!
Of course, it was a system, not a human.
It was all due to unfortunate timing. The original host had died during the tribulation, leaving Tao Ning to face the amplified final strike alone the moment she arrived.
The tribulation was intended to obliterate the original host. However, her death and Tao Ning’s arrival coincided perfectly, making Tao Ning the new target.
Just as 520 was screaming internally, convinced it would be ejected from the small world along with the fried remains of its host, Tao Ning, having endured the final strike, calmly requested, “Recovery potion, please.”
After a moment of processing, Tao Ning registered 520’s question. She thought for a moment before replying, “Like a very intense electrotherapy session.”
520 suppressed its internal scream but couldn’t contain its alarm. It was convinced Tao Ning’s brain had been fried.
As her system, it had access to Tao Ning’s physical condition. It could see the devastation beneath her outwardly healed appearance. Her internal organs were shattered, her spiritual veins rapidly regenerating under the influence of the recovery potion.
Even at accelerated speed, it was a monumental task.
The original host was undeniably dead, her spiritual core shattered, her soul already on its way to reincarnation.
The pain of skeletal reconstruction was unimaginable, yet Tao Ning hadn’t made a sound. 520, however, felt its core ache in sympathy.
520 couldn’t bear it: 【Do you want a painkiller?】
Tao Ning: “Employee benefit?”
520: 【No…】Of course, it would cost.
“Then forget it. Shattered but serene,” Tao Ning said nonchalantly, not with the bravado of someone overwhelmed by debt, but rather the dullness of someone who had just woken from a very long sleep.
520: 【…】
Tao Ning surveyed her surroundings. She was at the bottom of a massive crater, large enough to hold several dozen people. The very epicenter of the tribulation. Heaven had wanted to obliterate the original host, leaving nothing behind.
So…
Tao Ning looked up at the sky above the crater. “It’s so high. How am I supposed to climb out?”
She lay back down, pulling the dirt over herself like a blanket, and closed her eyes, falling promptly asleep.
520: 【…】
She had slept for half a month in the original world, and now she was sleeping again. It felt like it was bound to a narcoleptic host.
After a day and night of observing the cultivators flying back and forth overhead, Tao Ning decided she was sufficiently recovered. She stood, stretching her limbs.
Clad in tattered rags, covered in dirt, she rummaged through the soil, retrieving a few gleaming objects and a pile of debris.
A Heaven-grade storage ring, a Heaven-grade storage belt, and a Heaven-grade storage necklace. These three were intact.
The remnants of shattered artifacts, still crackling with residual lightning, appeared to have been defensive talismans. When Tao Ning accidentally brushed against them, she felt a jolt of pain, like an electric shock.
Deciding to leave them alone, she turned her attention to the other items.
The three undamaged artifacts glowed softly, seemingly unscathed by the tribulation, like freshly forged treasures.
Tao Ning tore a strip of cloth from her rags and tied back her waist-length hair. Examining the artifacts closely, she murmured, “Could the original host have had a Lightning Spiritual Root…? Refining with lightning and fire… reaching a peak where one can withstand tribulation lightning.”
Clever as she was, Heaven was equally cunning. Indestructible artifacts didn’t guarantee an indestructible user.
After a fierce struggle, the original host perished, body and soul, even her soul contract erased, leaving behind these unclaimed treasures.
No, wait.
Upon closer inspection, Tao Ning noticed the runes and formations etched into the intact artifacts were similar to those on the broken pieces, but with subtle differences, as if the original host had abruptly changed her refining methods mid-process.
Perhaps, pressed for time, she had only managed to refine these simpler storage artifacts before the tribulation arrived.
This realization made Tao Ning’s brow furrow in understanding.
Given another five hundred years, the original host might have actually created tribulation-proof artifacts, like a sort of lightning rod.
Such defiance of Heaven explained the utter annihilation it had unleashed.
520, bewildered by Tao Ning’s fascination with the debris and her sudden epiphany, grew increasingly concerned. It truly feared its host’s mind was addled.
Fortunately, Tao Ning soon abandoned the debris. Drawing on the last dregs of spiritual energy from her depleted meridians, she retrieved a robe from the storage necklace just before collapsing.
520: 【Wow.】It loved shiny things, and this robe was a masterpiece.
Tao Ning: “…”
The robe shimmered, a rich, deep purple, embroidered with intricate patterns. Every thread seemed to glow, conjuring an image of a proud, untamed wearer.
It didn’t look like the sort of thing a good person would wear.
Tao Ning frowned, holding the robe up by the shoulders. “It’s too big.”
After the meridian reconstruction, Tao Ning hadn’t retained the original host’s adult physique. She now resembled a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl, thin and frail, like a bean sprout.
She shook her head. “No, it’s too flashy.”
Wearing Heaven-grade robes with her current cultivation level was like a child flaunting gold in a busy marketplace—practically begging for trouble.
However, the robe was impervious to fire and water, resistant to blades and weapons, capable of withstanding a full-powered blow from a Mahayana cultivator. It was essentially an incredibly durable turtle shell.
After weighing her options, Tao Ning put it on, inside out, to at least mute the vibrant color. She had no more spiritual energy to retrieve anything else from the storage artifacts.
Dressed, she stood in a daze, then suddenly remembered something. She asked 520, “Did I forget to ask you for the original host’s information?”
520, which had been unusually quiet: 【Oh, right. I didn’t send you the data.】
But Tao Ning simply lay back down at the bottom of the crater, hands folded over her stomach, absorbing the memories. 520 had the sudden urge to shower her with flowers.
Then it realized something. 【Wait a minute! How could you use her storage ring without her memories?】
Tao Ning, lying comfortably on the robe, slept peacefully. 520 had no choice but to shut down and wait.
The original host was the Supreme Ruler of the Demonic Realm, known as Qingji.
Her name had commanded respect and instilled fear in the Demonic Realm for millennia. Her power was so immense that even the Radiant Realm regarded her with a healthy dose of caution.
This Demon Lord had appeared suddenly. Rumors claimed she was a subordinate of Patriarch Wanhun, seizing an opportunity during his severe injury to usurp his position and kill him.
Initially, the Demonic Realm hadn’t paid much attention. In their world, patricide, matricide, even fratricide were commonplace, let alone the betrayal of a master. They didn’t bat an eye at Qingji’s sudden rise.
However, after seizing the Wanhun Cauldron upon Patriarch Wanhun’s death, Qingji’s first act was to challenge the then-most powerful cultivator in the Demonic Realm, the City Lord of Xuanming. She went alone, challenging someone far above her level.
Many mocked her arrogance, eager to witness her demise. The City Lord of Xuanming was known for devouring female cultivators alive, savoring their spiritual energy.
Instead, it was the City Lord who was killed, along with most of the demonic cultivators who had come to watch. Qingji became infamous overnight.
Now calling herself the Recluse Qingji, she annexed the two largest cities in the Demonic Realm, becoming the most powerful City Lord.
But Qingji’s expansion didn’t stop there. She set her sights on unifying the entire Demonic Realm.
As one defiant City Lord after another fell, the remaining rulers, unwilling to submit, banded together to resist. Their efforts were futile.
Every opponent was eliminated, becoming fodder for the Wanhun Cauldron.
With all opposition eradicated, the survivors pledged their allegiance, and the Demonic Realm was unified under a single, true monarch.
This unification sent ripples of unease not only through the Demonic Realm but also through the Radiant Realm.
The leaders of the various sects in the Radiant Realm held council, strategizing against a potential invasion by the newly crowned Demon Lord.
Perhaps weary of conquest, the Demon Lord, now under close observation by the Radiant Realm, showed no interest in their territory, retreating to the newly constructed Abyssal Palace and giving the Radiant Realm nary a glance.
A two-thousand-year peace settled between the Radiant and Demonic Realms.
Yet, no one knew that the Demon Lord Qingji was originally a disciple of the Hanshan Sect, the most prominent sect in the Radiant Realm.
Possessing both Lightning and Fire Spiritual Roots, she had displayed a talent for artifact refinement at the age of three. The Artifact Peak Elder treasured her as a genius. Unconventional and fascinated by unusual artifacts, she gained renown at a young age.
Perhaps it was a case of the heavens envying genius. During a trip outside the sect, she was targeted by Patriarch Wanhun of the Demonic Realm. Her fellow disciples were slaughtered, and she was captured, poisoned, and forced to refine artifacts.
Refusal meant becoming another soul trapped within the Soul Banner, a tool for the patriarch’s bidding.
To survive, she complied. However, to unleash the full power of demonic artifacts, she required the patriarch’s heart blood.
Still not satisfied, she made further requests, leading to the horrifying incident where Patriarch Wanhun sacrificed dozens of his children and hundreds of concubines to create the Wanhun Cauldron.
Such acts weren’t unheard of in the Radiant Realm, but to do so openly, for all the world to see, was appalling.
On the day the Wanhun Cauldron was forged, endless thunder crashed down. Patriarch Wanhun feared Heaven’s wrath would destroy it, but the cauldron survived the tribulation.
Believing it a sign of Heaven’s favor, he eagerly tested its power. In its first use, the Wanhun Cauldron devoured tens of thousands of cultivators from the Radiant Realm.
The cauldron could command the dead and absorb souls, its power unmatched. It could refine the souls of cultivators to enhance one’s own cultivation without any adverse effects, more potent than any elixir or divine technique. Who wouldn’t covet such power?
Patriarch Wanhun, once just another demon in the Demonic Realm, became its undisputed ruler with the Wanhun Cauldron, a formidable threat to the Radiant Realm.
With such a powerful weapon, he was loath to kill Qingji, continuing to poison her, hoping to completely subdue her.
Qingji feigned loyalty, refining numerous demonic artifacts for him and repeatedly rejecting rescue attempts by the Hanshan Sect.
She drove away her former sect members, throwing down her disciple token, declaring she was severing all ties. From that day forward, the Hanshan Sect no longer had a disciple named Qingji.
However, after discovering an antidote, Qingji secretly manipulated the cauldron to devour Patriarch Wanhun, who realized too late that she had always held the true control, dying with his eyes wide open in disbelief.
Qingji then ascended to become the Supreme Ruler of the Demonic Realm, reigning for over a thousand years before gradually retreating into seclusion at the age of two thousand to attempt the tribulation.
She failed, and died.
Mahayana cultivators had lifespans of tens of thousands of years. Qingji, attempting the tribulation at a mere three thousand, was remarkably young compared to those ancient monsters.
“Interesting. The Supreme Ruler of the Demonic Realm doesn’t cultivate demonic energy. Her spiritual veins are pure, using spiritual energy instead of demonic energy…” Tao Ning scratched her cheek. “Was there enough spiritual energy in the Demonic Realm for her to cultivate?”
520: 【Spiritual veins and stones, perhaps? She spent a thousand years in the Ten Thousand Mountains after leaving the Demonic Realm. Is there a problem?】
Tao Ning sat up, straightening her clothes. “No, just surprised by her rapid cultivation.”
Reaching the Mahayana stage after only a thousand years in the Demonic Realm seemed less like natural talent and more like a rush to max her level before eliminating her.
Tao Ning asked, “Since I’m taking over her identity, I’ll inherit her will and fulfill her wish. Did Qingji have any final wishes before reincarnation?”
【Yes, but it’s rather short.】 520 recited Qingji’s final words. 【Insolent child. Hmph.】
Tao Ning: “…”
If 520 had a physical form, it would be tapping its smooth head. Lacking one, it could only ask, 【Did you decipher her wish?】
Tao Ning pondered for a moment, then nodded gravely. “She wants me to kill someone.”
520: 【??? Who?】
Tao Ning looked at the sky, then at the ground. “She doesn’t know.”
520 was utterly confused. 【She doesn’t know? Then how do you know?】
Tao Ning: “I should know.”
520: 【Huh? Who?】
Previously, 520’s hosts struggled to keep up with its thought processes. Now, the roles were reversed. It often found itself lagging behind Tao Ning, who rarely bothered to explain herself.
520 quickly resigned itself to this, thinking, What can I do? I’m stuck with her.
Tao Ning, indeed, had no intention of explaining. After rummaging through the storage artifacts, she suddenly let out a puzzled hum.
The Wanhun Cauldron was missing.
Qingji was its master, but she disliked it, rarely using it, keeping it sealed in the Demonic Realm’s forbidden zone, a place supposedly known only to her.
This was a typical cultivation world where an ordinary young man rose to power, collecting a harem along the way. Initially, a weakling, somehow he attracted beautiful women and stumbled upon countless treasures. Later, he would unleash his hidden potential, unifying the three realms, transcending mortality, and eventually ascending to the heavens, leaving everything behind.
How could such a powerful artifact like the Wanhun Cauldron, capable of boosting cultivation without side effects, not end up in the protagonist’s hands?
In the original storyline, he would form a contract with the cauldron, using its power to conquer the three realms and become the supreme ruler.
Of course, that was the original plot. Tao Ning’s mission to sever a fated connection indicated a significant deviation in the world’s trajectory, so severe that Heaven itself preferred to sever the connection.
520 didn’t understand why Tao Ning was still sifting through the debris. Was she planning to sell scrap metal for spiritual stones?
Did the Radiant Realm even have a scrap market for broken artifacts? Did they buy by weight?
520: 【What’s wrong?】
Tao Ning stood up, dusting off her hands, and shielded her eyes, peering into the distance. “The protagonist’s location… Never mind. I’ll ask differently. You should be able to locate the Hanshan Sect, right?”
The designated female protagonist, Cen Dianshuang, was an elder of the Hanshan Sect’s Disciplinary Hall. Tao Ning had arrived three months before the disciple acceptance ceremony. She needed to reach the sect before the protagonist took the male protagonist as her disciple.
Their fated connection began at that ceremony.
If she failed to arrive in time, she’d have to resort to killing the protagonist’s new disciple, becoming her enemy.
The debt-ridden widow had no time for such complications. Once the mission was complete, she would leave, allowing the protagonist to seek revenge if she wished.
520: 【I know where it is. I’ll navigate for you.】
As Tao Ning prepared to climb out of the crater, 520 chirped in a cheerful electronic voice: 【Head east. Estimated travel time on foot: two hundred days.】
Tao Ning: “…”
Realizing the error, 520 went silent for a moment, then suggested: 【Maybe you should take that scrap metal and sell it for enough money to buy a horse?】
With Tao Ning’s current cultivation level, her only advantage was the ability to walk briskly.
Accompanied by the useless, yet adorable, 520, Tao Ning set off, finding a stream to wash up.
The stream reflected her calm features as she scrubbed her mud-caked hair, her small chin dotted with water droplets. The mud was annoying.
Gathering what little spiritual energy she could, she transferred the glowing storage ring, belt, and other items into the necklace. Unable to conceal the necklace itself, she wore it, hiding it beneath layers of fabric.
Fortunately, the original host had placed a concealing formation on it. Tao Ning quickly figured out how to activate it, draining her remaining spiritual energy to mask the necklace’s aura. To anyone below the Mahayana stage, it would appear as an ordinary stone pendant.
—Despite her flamboyant attire, the original host had practical taste in accessories. The pendant was indeed quite plain.
She traveled cautiously. The cultivators still searching the sky for the deceased senior’s remains didn’t notice her. The demonic beasts that might have posed a threat had been obliterated by the tribulation. Her journey was surprisingly smooth.
However, she wasn’t the only one making good progress. A young man in simple, coarse clothing was also traversing the ravaged landscape, heading straight for the crater she had left.
He peered into the crater for a long time, muttering to himself before climbing down. He searched through the scorched earth, but found nothing.
Frowning, he muttered, “Huh? They said it was here. The crater’s here, but where’s the treasure?”
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