Yu Zhiling drowsed listlessly, slumped inelegantly in a wooden chair as she dozed off, drawing a frown from Zhongli Yang beside her. After all these years apart, she seemed to have regressed, behaving just like she had as a child.
The guests gradually filled their seats, with many musicians from across the Central Continent in attendance. Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, Yu Zhiling, rarely made appearances in the Central Continent, so numerous eyes turned toward the high platform. The only person who could sit beside the Zhongli family head was an Immortal Lord of the Immortal Alliance—and among the Alliance’s three Immortal Lords, only Zhuoyu was a woman.
"That’s Immortal Lord Zhuoyu."
"The Immortal Lord is… quite unconventional…"
"Won’t she get a stiff neck sleeping like that?"
As the crowd grew, Zhongli Yang finally lost his patience. The Lingyue Banquet’s opening ceremony was about to begin. He glanced at Yu Zhiling, who was still fast asleep, and nudged her with his elbow.
"Zhuoyu, wake up."
Yu Zhiling drowsily straightened up, blinking at him in confusion. "Is it over?"
Zhongli Yang: "...It’s starting."
Yu Zhiling glanced at the empty seat below. "Has Mo Zhu not returned yet?"
Zhongli Yang replied calmly, "He should be back soon. Let’s wait a little longer. We have official matters to attend to first."
A clear, melodious bell rang out, accompanied by the cry of cranes soaring above the clouds. A shower of petals drifted down as the musicians summoned their spiritual instruments, fingers poised over the strings, ready to play. Under Zhongli Yang’s pointed look, Yu Zhiling finally stood.
She cleared her throat and announced, "The Lingyue Banquet commences—"
"Immortal Lord! Family Head! Something’s happened!"
An unfamiliar voice cut her off.
She turned toward the sound—a disciple rushed in, dropping to one knee in the center of the stage.
Zhongli Yang’s brows furrowed. "What is it?"
The disciple steadied his ragged breath and clasped his hands in salute. "Family Head, something’s happened at Lianhua Marsh! The music array suppressing the Three-Eyed Python was tampered with! Senior Brother You Chen sent word—the python has awakened! And Mo Zhu… he lured it away alone!"
Zhongli Yang froze. "...What?"
A cold gust swept past him. Instinctively, he looked toward Yu Zhiling—only to find the space beside him empty.
"Fellow Daoist Mo, let’s get out of Lianhua Marsh first!"
You Chen carried a severely injured disciple on his back, flanked by a few others. He glanced back at Mo Zhu, who was covering their retreat.
The young man sidestepped the giant serpent’s tail and shot him a cold look. "Are you suggesting we lead it out of Lianhua Marsh? Do you know how many commoners live nearby?"
You Chen and the fleeing disciples faltered, shame flashing across their faces. "Fellow Daoist Mo, my words were careless."
"I’ll draw it away. You send word back to the Zhongli family for reinforcements."
Mo Zhu suddenly halted, slashing his sword toward the rampaging python before darting deeper into the marsh.
Enraged by the strike, the Three-Eyed Python abandoned the weak-looking human cultivators and pursued the powerful aura of the young demonic cultivator instead.
"Fellow Daoist Mo!"
"Come back! Don’t!"
But in the blink of an eye, Mo Zhu was gone.
He teleported swiftly through the dense ancient trees of Lianhua Marsh. His human form allowed him to move nimbly among the shadows, evading the python’s pursuit—but he couldn’t shake it off entirely.
Behind him, the Three-Eyed Python barreled through the forest, smashing trees in its path.
Mo Zhu glimpsed its massive form closing in and twisted aside to avoid its sweeping tail.
Now wasn’t the time. Revealing his true form as a Flying Serpent would expose his identity. But in his human body, he couldn’t withstand a direct fight with this Great Ascension-level demonic beast. His only option was to lose it first.
Lost in thought, a gust of wind whipped toward him from behind. Mo Zhu dodged, but the moment he steadied himself, a deafening roar slammed into him like a physical force.
He grunted, clutching his chest as blood spilled from his lips.
The python’s tail struck before he could recover, smashing into his torso and sending him flying dozens of feet into a cliffside.
The Three-Eyed Python loomed over him, blotting out what little light reached the depths of Lianhua Marsh. Even in the dimness, Mo Zhu’s keen serpentine vision traced every scale of its monstrous form.
It spoke in a guttural voice, "If you won’t reveal your true form, how do you expect to fight me?"
Mo Zhu wiped the blood from his mouth and summoned his sword, Hanxiao, his expression icy. "You think you’re worthy of forcing my true form?"
Escape was impossible now. Mo Zhu charged forward, blade flashing. The python roared and lunged.
In his human body, he was no match for the beast. His sword couldn’t even scratch its scales. Within moments, he was flung back again by its crushing aura, his blade barely keeping him upright as he skidded across the ground.
The python advanced, determined to break his resistance. Mo Zhu wiped fresh blood from his lips, swaying as he stood. His fingers moved to form a seal—
"Mo Zhu!"
Yu Zhiling’s voice reached him before her sword did.
The instant he heard her, an emerald blade streaked through the air, embedding itself between him and the python. The shockwave sent the beast flying back hundreds of feet.
A figure teleported before him, the wind carrying her familiar scent as warm fingers brushed his cheek.
Yu Zhiling’s worried face filled his vision. "Are you hurt? Where are you injured? How long have you been fighting it?"
Beyond them, the python battered against the barrier of her sword’s domain, but inside, all was still.
Mo Zhu’s throat moved. After a long pause, he rasped, "This disciple is unharmed."
Yu Zhiling inspected him head to toe, exhaling in relief only after confirming no life-threatening wounds. "You—you scared me half to death! I told you not to come!"
Before Mo Zhu could respond, another voice cut in.
"Fellow Daoist Mo! I’m here to help!"
You Chen’s voice rang out from behind.
Mo Zhu turned to see You Chen and the Zhongli disciples—who should have fled—racing through the darkness straight into Yu Zhiling’s sword domain.
Before he could react, Yu Zhiling shoved him back.
"Mo Zhu, take them and leave."
Caught off guard, he stumbled dozens of feet, straight into You Chen’s arms.
You Chen blinked. "Immortal Lord?"
The disciples hadn’t expected Immortal Lord Zhuoyu to arrive so quickly—and neither had Mo Zhu.
He stared blankly, uncertain what Yu Zhiling intended now.
The Three-Eyed Python, a Great Ascension-level beast, was already breaking through her barrier. Under its oppressive aura, the disciples coughed up blood from internal injuries. Even Mo Zhu, in human form, couldn’t endure much longer—but he stubbornly refused to reveal his true nature.
Yu Zhiling met Mo Zhu’s bewildered gaze and said coldly, "I’ll handle it. You take the disciples and go. Mo Zhu, wait for me to return."
You Chen snapped to action, dragging Mo Zhu away while shouting, "Immortal Lord, hold on! The Family Head is coming!"
Yu Zhiling nodded, turning to slash her sword downward, forcing the python deeper into the marsh.
You Chen hauled Mo Zhu along as they teleported away, muttering, "Don’t worry, Fellow Daoist Mo. That’s Immortal Lord Zhuoyu—the strongest cultivator in the Central Continent. She can do anything. If we stay, she’ll just have to split her focus protecting us."
"Exactly, that’s Immortal Lord Zhuoyu—a cultivator at the peak of the Great Ascension realm, half a step from transcending tribulation."
"Immortal Lord Zhuoyu dared to venture into the Three Perils Mountain alone when she was just a teenager. There’s nothing she can’t do."
Mo Zhu listened as they spoke one after another, their words seeming to comfort him—or perhaps themselves.
Because Immortal Lord Zhuoyu was powerful, she could accomplish anything. So, naturally, she should be the one charging ahead.
Mo Zhu shouldn’t interfere.
He hated her. He even suspected this body had been taken over by someone else.
But whether her personality had changed due to memory loss from seclusion or she truly was a different person now, this body was still Zhuoyu’s. If she died here, there would be no more Immortal Lord Zhuoyu.
He stepped away from Lianhua Abyss, moving from the dimness toward the light.
Mo Zhu lifted his gaze and saw the sunlight hanging high beyond Lianhua Abyss.
Light.
But she was afraid of the dark.
She always kept a lamp burning when she slept. She never went out after nightfall. When teaching him cultivation, she avoided the depths of the dense forest.
Because she was afraid of the dark.
Deep within Lianhua Abyss, there wasn’t a single trace of light.
She didn’t know that. She didn’t know the abyss’s depths were shrouded in black mist that devoured all light.
Just as he was about to rush out of Lianhua Abyss, Mo Zhu suddenly shook off You Chen’s hand.
"Fellow Daoist Mo?"
His hand clenched tightly at his side. Mo Zhu lowered his head slightly, his sharp profile tense, his gaze fixed on the disciple jade token at his waist. He could feel her moving farther away—already nearing the deepest, darkest part of Lianhua Abyss.
No one in the Central Continent knew the Flying Serpent’s weakness wasn’t at its seventh inch. The rest of its body was armored in impenetrable scales. That was why even Immortal Fuchun, who had reached the early stage of tribulation transcendence, had been unable to kill it—only subduing it with a hypnotic music array.
Yu Zhiling didn’t know either. Today, she would be worn down to death here.
He shouldn’t turn back.
He couldn’t turn back.
But when the disciple jade token at his waist caught his eye again—
"Fellow Daoist Mo! Come back!"
Mo Zhu spun around and sprinted toward the heart of Lianhua Abyss, ignoring the shouts behind him.
Fearing the Flying Serpent might escape Lianhua Abyss, Yu Zhiling had lured it deeper, intending to finish it there.
The serpent chased her relentlessly. Its furious roars, the splintering of trees shattered by its charge, and the encroaching darkness all told her something was wrong.
A cold, creeping dread seeped into her bones. Her breathing grew ragged.
So dark. So dark.
Why was it getting darker?
Just moments ago… hadn’t there been sunlight?
Yu Zhiling gasped, realizing she was trembling.
[Host, your fear levels are rising. This mission is beyond your responsibilities. You don’t need to complete it. You may leave now.]
Yu Zhiling cursed, "Didn’t you say my side quest was to maintain world stability? If the Flying Serpent escapes Lianhua Abyss, do you know how many will die? How is this not part of the mission?"
But the system seemed to glitch, repeating only one phrase as if urging her to retreat.
[Host, your fear levels have reached critical levels. Please evacuate immediately.]
Yu Zhiling could barely breathe.
Was she afraid?
Of course she was.
She wasn’t afraid of the Flying Serpent. She wasn’t afraid of death.
But she was terrified of this lightless black mist.
Her body shook violently, drenched in cold sweat. The wind cut through her robes, chilling her to the bone. She wanted to leave. She wanted to escape Lianhua Abyss. She didn’t want to see this. She didn’t want to endure this.
So dark. So unbearably dark.
When she first entered Lianhua Abyss, there had been sunlight. Why was it gone now?
Her legs trembled as if she’d fallen back into that recurring nightmare—twenty years of endless darkness, piercing cold, and pain. She saw nothing, felt nothing but agony and the abyss around her, while an ancient voice echoed in her ears.
—"Do you regret it?"
She collapsed to the ground, clutching her head.
"What should I regret? I don’t! I don’t! I don’t! No matter what you’re asking, I don’t regret it! You’ve asked for twenty years—aren’t you tired? Get lost! Just get lost!"
The Flying Serpent loomed over her, its massive form dwarfing her. It studied this insignificant human, sensing something familiar.
"You… are Fuchun’s disciple?"
That woman—Immortal Fuchun—who had slain its master and sealed it in Lianhua Abyss with a single sword strike.
The serpent could feel this human’s power. Her cultivation surpassed its own, stirring caution.
But beneath that caution, its bloodlust surged.
Fuchun’s disciple. That woman’s disciple. Even Fuchun, who had reached tribulation transcendence, hadn’t been able to kill it. No one in the Central Continent knew where its seventh inch was. And now, this human seemed paralyzed by fear, curled up on the ground.
What did it matter if her cultivation was high? Fear was the greatest weakness. Today, it would devour her.
"Good. If I couldn’t kill Fuchun, killing you will suffice!"
Fetid breath washed over her as it lunged, jaws wide to crush her skull.
The woman on the ground suddenly looked up, her cold, beautiful eyes blazing with killing intent. She drew her sword and slashed horizontally.
The blade’s light shot straight for its face. The serpent hastily conjured a barrier, only for her to shatter it effortlessly, driving her sword into its left eye.
It howled in agony, thrashing wildly.
Yu Zhiling flipped to her feet, her robes whipping in the gale. The thin green fabric fluttered violently in the darkness.
She tightened her grip on her sword.
She couldn’t retreat. She couldn’t.
The Southern Capital had only one Great Ascension cultivator—her. She could move swiftly, but the Zhongli family would take half an hour to arrive. If the serpent escaped Lianhua Abyss in that time, the nearby villages would be doomed.
Mo Zhu hadn’t reached safety yet. Those Zhongli disciples were still there—too young to die.
Behind her were countless lives resting on her blade.
"I am Immortal Lord Zhuoyu. I am Immortal Lord Zhuoyu…"
"Don’t look. Don’t look…"
"It’s not dark. It’s not. It’s not…"
She tried to steel herself, but the words rang hollow.
The serpent charged again. Yu Zhiling hovered midair, her expression grave as she formed a seal with her hands.
"Annihilation Seal—descend!"
Her trembling hands hurled the seal toward the serpent’s seventh inch.
It didn’t dodge. Instead, it met her attack head-on, jaws gaping wide.
The Annihilation Seal struck its "seventh inch"—
And detonated harmlessly, failing to pierce even a single scale.
That wasn’t its weak point.
Yu Zhiling froze for only a second before the serpent’s fangs were upon her. She twisted aside, but its massive tail sent shattered trees flying toward her.
She couldn’t evade in time. The impact sent her flying a hundred zhang away.
When she opened her eyes again—
She was in the deepest part of Lianhua Abyss.
Surrounded by absolute darkness. She could see nothing.
The cold and pain came belatedly, seeping into every inch of her body. She was freezing, trembling uncontrollably, her hands shaking as she tried to summon a flicker of light.
As long as there was light, she would have boundless courage—enough to face anything.
But the glow lasted only a moment before it was swallowed by an inexplicable black mist. The Lianhua Ruins were filled with this darkness, a place where light could not survive.
"Eldest Brother… Third Brother… Senior Sister… Master… I… I…"
"Give me… give me a lantern… just one lantern…"
Yu Zhiling couldn’t form a coherent sentence. She couldn’t see anything. Fear had completely overwhelmed her.
—Do you regret it?
In the suffocating darkness, that voice returned.
She clutched her head, her sword clattering to the ground. The system in her consciousness screamed warnings, urging her to flee, but she didn’t even have the strength to stand.
"I don’t regret it! I don’t! Get out, get out, get out!"
Yu Zhiling couldn’t hear the Three-Eyed Python slithering toward her, couldn’t hear its bloodthirsty roar. All she could hear was that voice—the one that had haunted her for twenty years.
Again and again, it asked her in the despairing darkness: Did she regret it?
In the dark, she suffocated. She trembled. Though there were no wounds, her entire body ached. A terror born from the depths of her soul left her hopeless. The eerie, looping voice only fueled her rage and fear. She had seen every doctor, taken every medicine.
Her emotions teetered on the edge of collapse. Every time she woke from these nightmares, she was alone—huddled in a corner of her brightly lit room, wrapped in a blanket, trying to calm her shaking body.
Why… why was there never anyone there when she was afraid?
"Brothers… Senior Sister… Master… Mo, Mo Zhu… I just… just need one person…"
Just one person. Just one would be enough.
The Three-Eyed Python loomed before her now, its massive form towering over the trembling cultivator. "Your master killed my lord and sealed me away for a hundred years," it hissed. "And you destroyed one of my eyes. Since you dared to enter the Lianhua Ruins, you’ll die here!"
It bared its fangs, ready to devour the human who stood on the brink of collapse. She was too paralyzed by fear to resist. Eating her would grant it a surge of power.
Just as its fangs were about to pierce her flesh, a gust of wind roared from behind—followed by a whip-like tail slamming into its midsection.
The python was sent flying, crashing into a jagged cliffside.
A colossal Flying Serpent now stood between Yu Zhiling and death. Its golden vertical pupils gleamed coldly, its obsidian scales radiating menace. Unlike ordinary serpents, this one bore wings—capable of soaring through the heavens.
"You… you’re a Flying Serpent?"
The Three-Eyed Python stared at its opponent. Compared to its own grotesque form, the Flying Serpent’s appearance was regal, commanding.
Yet this creature was barely more than a juvenile, yet its demonic aura dwarfed that of a thousand-year-old beast like itself.
The Flying Serpent bloodline—one step away from divinity.
So rare. So powerful. That was why they had been hunted to near extinction.
If this was a Flying Serpent, then it wouldn’t be an easy fight. The python coiled cautiously atop the boulder, ignoring the pain in its abdomen.
Mo Zhu glanced down at Yu Zhiling behind him. Covered in dust, her dark hair tangled over her face, but he could see her shaking.
She really was afraid of the dark. Terrified.
Yu Zhiling was on the verge of breaking. She kept trying, futilely, to summon light. But every time a flicker appeared, the black mist devoured it, crushing her hope again.
She sobbed, pleading, "Give me… give me a lantern, please… Eldest Brother, Senior Sister, Master… Mo, Mo Zhu…"
Couldn’t someone—anyone—bring her just one light?
It was so dark here. So unbearably dark.
She had begged countless times before. No one had ever given her a lantern.
But this time…
As her voice faded, a golden glow emerged from the darkness, pushing back the shadows that threatened to consume her.
Yu Zhiling blinked dazedly, her gaze drifting upward.
Behind the light were the cool black eyes of a young man. He crouched before her, offering her a small sphere of radiance.
Not large, but enough to give her courage.
A light condensed from the blood of a Flying Serpent—one that could dispel all darkness.
Mo Zhu called to her softly, "Master."
Time seemed to rewind to years ago, when a half-grown boy had timidly taken the hand of a woman in green robes and whispered the same word:
"Master."
Yu Zhiling’s trembling hands reached out, cradling the light he offered.
The glow burst forth, illuminating the Lianhua Ruins.
Light gave her endless courage.
Her body stilled. The tormenting voice in her ears vanished. The pain buried deep in her soul dissipated. She felt her meridians surge with spiritual energy once more, felt the steady beat of her heart, felt her own strength return.
Mo Zhu met her gaze, his throat bobbing, his expression unreadable. Quietly, he said, "The Three-Eyed Python’s true weak point is at the Lingming Acupoint—six inches below its belly."
Yu Zhiling tightened her grip on the Zhujian Sword.
Her voice was hoarse as she replied, "Understood."
She rose to her feet, facing the python coiled atop the boulder.
She was ready to fight.
