Currently, the Central Continent is divided into three sects and four clans. The three Immortal Lords of the Immortal Alliance are selected from these three sects, all of whom are Great Ascension cultivators.
As one of the three sects, the Yingshan Sect is primarily divided into three peaks and two branches. For the discussion regarding the matter of the Four Slaughter Stele, the delegation was sent to the foremost of the three peaks—Liuyun Peak.
The master of Liuyun Peak is named Yan Shanqing, the sect leader of Yingshan Sect and also the senior brother of the Immortal Lord Zhuoyu.
The guiding disciple walked ahead while Yu Zhiling followed at a leisurely pace, her expression seemingly indifferent. Only the merit system in her consciousness would know just how flustered she was at the moment.
Because…
She couldn’t recall the original body’s memories at all.
"What do I do? I can only vaguely remember bits of the original body’s memories. What if I can’t recognize anyone?"
The system attempted to reassure her: [Host, please wait patiently. We are currently verifying the issue for you.]
It adopted a customer-service-like tone before logging off to investigate. But after waiting for a long time, Yu Zhiling still hadn’t seen the system return.
By the time they reached Liuyun Peak and were about to pass through the waterside pavilion to enter the grand hall for discussions, Yu Zhiling finally panicked.
"System!"
The system responded, its mechanical voice as calm as ever: [After inspection, it has been determined that the host’s soul has not yet fully merged with the original body of Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, hence the incomplete memory retrieval. This phenomenon is temporary, and the host will gradually recall everything.]
Yu Zhiling almost wanted to kneel before it: "What I mean is, what do I do now? I don’t recognize anyone—"
Her unfinished words were abruptly cut off by a pair of eyes that turned toward her.
The half-opened lattice window, carved with cloud patterns, let in the morning light. Due to Liuyun Peak’s high elevation, mist and sunlight spilled inside, casting reflections on the golden sandalwood table beneath the window—yet the light seemed to linger on one particular figure.
He sat by the table with one knee bent, his jet-black hair meticulously tied back with a jade crown. One hand brewed tea while the deep blue robes slipped slightly down his wrist. His gaze was icy, and his entire presence exuded an austere aura.
For some reason, Yu Zhiling instinctively called out his title.
"Senior Brother."
The blue-robed man’s hand trembled slightly, causing the water in the teapot to spill onto the expensive golden sandalwood table before dripping onto his robes. He composed himself, set the teapot down, and with a wave of his hand, cast a cleansing spell to tidy the mess.
Yan Shanqing’s expression remained cold as he glanced at her. "Don’t act familiar. Now that there’s work to be done, you suddenly remember to butter me up?"
Yu Zhiling: "?"
She couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind Yan Shanqing’s words. Without her memories, she had no idea about the relationship between Immortal Lord Zhuoyu and this sect leader.
But Yan Shanqing said nothing more, calmly continuing to brew tea. Yu Zhiling cautiously approached, climbing onto the glazed divan and sitting cross-legged opposite him.
He didn’t shoo her away or say anything else, so she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Yan Shanqing flicked his wrist, and a bamboo scroll floated over with a surge of spiritual energy. "Sent by the Immortal Alliance."
Yu Zhiling opened it and could roughly understand the contents—essentially, the Immortal Alliance was requesting her presence to suppress the Four Slaughter Realm.
Yan Shanqing’s gaze lingered on her from the corner of his eye. Seeing her silent expression, he assumed she was looking for an excuse to refuse again and frowned, speaking first. "You don’t want to go?"
"Huh?" Yu Zhiling blinked, meeting his cold black eyes before shaking her head. "No, that’s not it."
It wasn’t that she was unwilling—it was just that she couldn’t recognize many of the characters on the scroll!
She could barely grasp the general meaning, but anything more was beyond her.
Yan Shanqing withdrew his gaze. "As the foremost of the Three Immortal Lords, you’ve long held a position of authority and should fulfill your responsibilities. Ever since your return ten years ago, you’ve been slacking off—skipping demon purges, refusing to suppress the Four Slaughter Realm, and even avoiding the Immortal Alliance. Now that the Four Slaughter Realm is in turmoil, shouldn’t you step in?"
Yu Zhiling: "...I should."
She responded softly, humoring him.
Yan Shanqing’s hand paused mid-brew, clearly not expecting such a compliant attitude. His dark eyes lifted to study her again.
Being stared at so intently by a stranger, Yu Zhiling took a deep breath and spoke even quieter. "I will go suppress the Four Slaughter Realm this time. Thank you for your concern, Senior Brother."
Yan Shanqing’s expression shifted through a myriad of emotions, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he were moments away from flipping the table.
Yu Zhiling: "...I will go suppress the Four Slaughter Realm?"
His expression remained unchanged—still stormy.
Yu Zhiling tried again, her voice small. "Thank you for your concern, Senior Brother?"
Yan Shanqing’s face turned even colder. "It’s your duty in the first place. After lazing around for so many years, isn’t it time you moved your limbs? Do you know how many people in the Central Continent will die if the Four Slaughter Realm collapses?"
Ah, so that was the problem. Yu Zhiling felt utterly lost—she had no idea what was wrong with her words. All she could do was murmur in response: "...Senior Brother is right to reprimand me."
Yan Shanqing fell silent.
Unaware of his strange reaction, Yu Zhiling stealthily reached for the freshly poured cup of tea in front of him. She’d been eyeing it since entering—she was parched, having not had a single sip of water since waking up.
Before her fingers could touch the cup, Yan Shanqing suddenly slammed the table and stood up. The violent motion shattered the teacup in her hand.
"Yu Zhiling, what exactly are you trying to do?!"
His voice boomed, deep and resonant. Yu Zhiling nearly jumped out of her skin, trembling at the sudden outburst. This man was utterly incomprehensible!
She hadn’t done anything!
Yan Shanqing stepped off the divan and turned to leave. But after a few steps, he glanced back at Yu Zhiling, who was now leaning against the windowsill. Her sleeve was soaked with tea, and she frowned as she wiped at it, looking pitifully disheveled—nothing like the arrogance she once carried.
Still unused to her identity as a cultivator, Yu Zhiling instinctively reached for a handkerchief to dry her sleeve, forgetting that a simple cleansing spell would suffice.
A cold surge of spiritual energy suddenly descended, and a sigil materialized on her wrist. Before her eyes, the damp fabric dried instantly.
A hand grasped her wrist—briefly—before releasing, leaving no trace of the earlier scalding marks.
Then, a cup of tea was pressed to her lips. "Drink."
Before her mind could catch up, her body reacted on its own, parting her lips to sip from his hand. The tea, likely cooled with spiritual energy, was no longer scalding.
After drinking, she looked up in confusion. Yan Shanqing, who should have left, had instead returned and now stood beside her.
"More?"
"...No, it’s a bit bitter."
Yu Zhiling shook her head. Yan Shanqing acknowledged her response and set the cup aside.
"Senior Brother?"
His expression was complicated, and when his gaze lowered to hers, Yu Zhiling felt as though his eyes held countless unspoken emotions.
Instead of answering, he asked, "I heard you summoned Mo Zhu back?"
"...Yes."
Yan Shanqing clasped his hands behind his back, his voice frosty. "He was brought here by you years ago. Back then, you promised me you would properly guide him—that was the only reason the Yingshan Sect allowed a demonic cultivator to train within its walls. All these years, none of the disciples have treated him with prejudice. Except for you. As his master, have you fulfilled even a fraction of your responsibility?"
"Yu Zhiling, I don't know how you taught Mo Zhu all those years, but the fact that you expelled him from the Yingshan Sect and forbade his return for three years is common knowledge within the sect. You must take responsibility for that child. If you can't be a proper master, hand him over to another elder for guidance—don’t hold him back."
Though these actions weren’t committed by Yu Zhiling herself, Yan Shanqing’s words inexplicably made her heart ache with guilt. She couldn’t bear to sit idly any longer and quickly rose to her feet.
"Yes, Senior Brother is absolutely right."
She believed her apology was sincere and proper, but Yan Shanqing reacted as if he’d heard something unbelievable, taking a step back to distance himself from her.
Yu Zhiling: "…"
What had she done now?
Yan Shanqing avoided her as if she were a flood or a beast. "What’s wrong with you?"
Yu Zhiling had no idea what she’d done to provoke him!
Under Yan Shanqing’s suspicious gaze, she felt as if she might expose herself at any moment.
Forcing a smile, she said, "I—I’ve been in seclusion for too long and I’m exhausted. I need to rest for a while. As for the Four Slaughter Realm matter, I’ve agreed to it. If those two Immortal Lords have any requests, Senior Brother can inform me."
"Then… I’ll take my leave now."
With that, she turned and hurried away, terrified that staying even a second longer would reveal her completely. She half-expected Yan Shanqing to forcibly search her soul!
After Yu Zhiling left, Yan Shanqing slowly sat back down.
He remained silent for a long time before his gaze settled on the shattered teacup on the golden nanmu table.
Someone pushed the door open and sauntered in, lazily waving a folding fan. Noticing the broken porcelain, he raised an eyebrow. "What happened? Was Little Five here? Did she break your things again?"
Yan Shanqing glanced at him as Xiang Wuxue took a seat across from him.
Yan Shanqing shook his head. "No, I broke it."
Xiang Wuxue asked, "Did you two argue again?"
"No."
"Then why do you look so unsettled?"
"Third Brother… she called me 'Senior Brother.'"
Xiang Wuxue’s fan stilled. "…What?"
"Little Five… called me 'Senior Brother.'"
The two brothers locked eyes, their pupils constricting in shock.
How many years had it been? How many years since they’d last heard her call any of them "Senior Brother" or "Senior Sister"?
Xiang Wuxue took a deep breath, reopening his fan with a flick. His voice was cool, but a faint tremor betrayed him. "Ever since she returned from the Four Slaughter Realm ten years ago, her temperament changed drastically. She cut ties with all of us. How could she… how could she…"
How could she call him "Senior Brother" again?
Yu Zhiling clearly…
Despised them the most.
Even after returning to Listening Spring Cliff, Yu Zhiling still hadn’t fully processed everything. She decided to bathe in the hot springs, soaking until she felt thoroughly refreshed.
Half an hour later, she towel-dried her hair as she stepped into the inner chamber, passing through the carved wooden screen and pushing aside the beaded curtain. Her eyes landed on the wardrobe.
Yu Zhiling opened it and was immediately dazzled by the array of garments inside—peony red, begonia red, plum blossom red… every shade of crimson imaginable, along with glittering golden hairpins and jewelry.
While bathing, she’d noticed that her face in this world was nearly identical to her original one, save for the floral mark between her brows—likely a spiritual seal unique to the "Radiant Jade Immortal."
Perhaps the matching appearance and name were why she’d transmigrated into this novel?
Her head throbbed. The sea of red reminded her of the book’s description of the Radiant Jade Immortal’s death, making her inexplicably irritated. Rummaging through the wardrobe, she finally unearthed a dark green robe buried at the very bottom.
Its style was completely different from the flamboyant red garments, but it looked decent enough. Yu Zhiling promptly put it on.
After freshening up, she dragged a lounge chair into the courtyard and lay down, pondering the circumstances of her transmigration. Something about it felt off.
Yu Zhiling lifted her wrist, studying the snake-shaped bracelet. "Why does this bracelet allow travel between worlds?"
[System Bureau classified information. Insufficient clearance. Unable to disclose.]
The bracelet was the key to her transmigration. Though she knew returning was impossible, she refused to remain ignorant. She had to figure this out.
Snake bracelet… snake…
Could it be related to Mo Zhu?
In the original novel’s setting, Mo Zhu was the last surviving Teng snake in the world. The Radiant Jade Immortal had found him severely injured and brought him back. Yet neither the Yingshan Sect nor the entire Central Continent knew his true identity—they all assumed he was just an ordinary snake demon.
Yu Zhiling, however, with her omniscient reader’s perspective, knew the Teng snakes were extraordinary beings, straddling the line between demon and divine beast bloodlines.
After the cataclysmic disaster six hundred years ago, three sects and four great clans had nearly been wiped out before finally suppressing the demonic race beneath the Abyss and sealing them within the Four Slaughter Realm.
But because the demonic race had allied with the demonic cultivators during the calamity, attempting to overthrow the Central Continent, the demon race had been despised ever since—even if they weren’t the main instigators.
The Radiant Jade Immortal was no exception. From the moment she appeared in the novel, she relentlessly oppressed and humiliated Mo Zhu for his snake demon heritage. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, she refused to let him leave, even going so far as to plant a parasitic gu in him to bind him to the Yingshan Sect.
Disliking him yet refusing to release him—even as a reader, Yu Zhiling had thought the Radiant Jade Immortal was deranged.
"Ah…"
She sighed. She’d recently befriended someone online called "Ah Gui." They’d gotten along wonderfully—he’d been her first real friend. During her hospital stays, Ah Gui had been the only one to chat with her daily. She’d even planned to meet him this New Year. Now, she wondered if he’d be upset when he couldn’t reach her.
Yu Zhiling lay there, drifting in and out of drowsiness, until a knock startled her awake.
"Radiant Jade Immortal."
She instinctively raised her hand. "Here! I’m here!"
The disciple outside fell silent. Yu Zhiling, realizing how ridiculous she sounded, also fell silent.
Ah… it was just like being caught napping in class.
The disciple spoke softly, "Junior Brother Mo has returned."
[Ding. Main quest triggered: Host must persuade Mo Zhu to stay and prevent him from leaving the mountain to exterminate evil spirits. Reward upon completion: 30 Virtue Points.]
Thirty Virtue Points—that meant thirty extra years of life!
Yu Zhiling bolted upright. "Mo Zhu’s back?"
"Yes. Junior Brother Mo just arrived at the mountain’s base and is heading to the Duty Hall. Should we…?"
Right. The book mentioned that the original Radiant Jade Immortal forbade Mo Zhu from entering Listening Spring Cliff. Their meetings usually took place in the Duty Hall.
Yu Zhiling took a deep breath. Meeting the male lead in person—the protagonist she’d followed through the entire novel—was undeniably thrilling.
"Alright, I’ll go now."
She stood, smoothing her slightly disheveled hair, and numbly followed the disciple out. But after a few steps, she paused.
The disciple behind her shrank back. "Immortal…?"
Yu Zhiling glanced at the quivering disciple and instinctively stepped away, forcing a kind smile. "Where’s the library?"
The disciple: "…It’s in the east."
The Yingshan Sect’s Duty Hall was spacious but rarely visited, mostly reserved for elder meetings.
Mo Zhu had walked up the mountain from the foot of the hills, arriving at the Hall of Affairs over an hour later. As he ascended the stone steps, every disciple of the Yingshan Sect recognized him, greeting him with a respectful "Junior Brother Mo."
Yu Zhiling had already arrived and was now seated in the main chair of the Hall of Affairs.
Mo Zhu hadn’t changed his clothes. He entered the main hall and knelt immediately, not even glancing at the figure on the raised platform before speaking bluntly, "Master."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Yu Zhiling was terrified.
She pressed her trembling right hand against her left, only to realize both hands were now shaking.
How could she not be afraid? She knew exactly how brutally Zhuoyu had died!
The young man remained kneeling, his gaze lowered. The reflection of his tall, straight-backed figure was cast on the green tiles—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, his posture firm and lean, exuding an undeniable strength. His black robes were tattered and torn.
Yu Zhiling had heard he’d been exterminating demons in the northern borderlands, where blood fiends ran rampant. Mo Zhu had fought for days, and indeed, he looked rather disheveled.
Through the torn fabric, faint traces of old and new scars could be seen—crisscrossed, densely packed. For a cultivator to bear scars that refused to fade, these wounds had been inflicted by none other than Immortal Zhuoyu.
Seeing firsthand what her original self had done, Yu Zhiling recalled how the woman had ultimately been struck down by soul-scattering nails, dispersing her spirit into nothingness. She couldn’t help but think the punishment had been well-deserved.
Mo Zhu, still kneeling, sensed something amiss. She hadn’t spoken a word. The young man finally lifted his gaze, and upon seeing the figure seated above, he froze momentarily—but swiftly suppressed his surprise.
Yu Zhiling was actually wearing a plain blue robe today. In all the past years, she had never favored such modest colors, always dressing in flamboyant, eye-catching attire.
Mo Zhu didn’t dwell on her sudden change in wardrobe. Lowering his eyes again, he said, "If Master has no further instructions, this disciple will take his leave."
"Wait—there’s something."
Yu Zhiling hurriedly stopped him before he could go.
She swallowed hard, picked up the teacup from the table, and took a few small sips, stealing a glance at Mo Zhu’s face. So this was the male lead described in the novel.
Her gaze was far too obvious. Mo Zhu frowned, tilting his head slightly to avoid her eyes.
He didn’t sense any killing intent from Yu Zhiling—a strange thing, considering that in the past, her malice and disgust had been so thick the entire Yingshan Sect could practically feel it.
But today…
Her eyes seemed devoid of that hostility.
In fact, he even heard Yu Zhiling ask, "Um… do your wounds still hurt?"
Mo Zhu assumed she was putting on another act and replied with a hint of sarcasm, "It’s nothing. Master need not concern yourself."
Yet Yu Zhiling didn’t catch the sarcasm. She gave an awkward laugh, noting that she didn’t see any fresh blood—so he likely wasn’t seriously injured.
Mo Zhu had no desire to prolong the conversation. "If Master wishes to strike, then strike. This disciple still has demons to exterminate."
Striking him was out of the question. Yu Zhiling remembered her mission: to stop the male lead from leaving the mountain again to fight demons.
For the sake of her 30 virtue points, she poured herself another cup of tea and downed it in one gulp, coughing as the liquid went down the wrong way.
Mo Zhu narrowed his eyes slightly. What was this—a pity act?
He lowered his head, a loose strand of black hair slipping from his ponytail to obscure the side of his face, hiding his indifferent expression.
Yu Zhiling suppressed her coughs, mustered her courage, and stammered as she took in his battered state, "I—I—I summoned you for another matter."
Another matter?
She must have thought up some new method of torment.
Mo Zhu lifted his gaze impassively, only to see his usually cold and cruel master shakily rise to her feet—then, with trembling hands, fling hundreds of scrolls before him.
Mo Zhu glanced down.
"Yingshan Swordplay," "Primordial Sword Intent," "Chaos Sword Techniques…"
All sword manuals.
The Yingshan Sect wasn’t primarily a sword-cultivating sect, so sword practitioners were few. The thousand-plus scrolls scattered across the hall must have been every sword manual the library could provide.
Mo Zhu: "?"
Even his usual composure wavered at this move from Yu Zhiling.
Yu Zhiling wore a solemn expression as she declared earnestly, "Only by surpassing the best of the best can one rise above all. One manual a day, and in ten years, you’ll reach the pinnacle of tribulation transcendence. Do you have the confidence?"
Mo Zhu: "..."
