Early morning, Yu Zhiling was jolted awake by a deafening clap of thunder.
Startled, she tried to sit up immediately, only to wince in pain as her meridians protested. The thunder sounded close—almost as if it had struck the back mountains of Listening Spring Cliff. After lying still for a while to ease the discomfort, she fished out the jade token at her waist and dialed.
The token glowed for a long time, but no one answered. Normally, no matter when she summoned Mo Zhu, he would respond within moments. But this time, the light dimmed without a reply.
Yu Zhiling hung up, a suspicion forming in her mind.
Unable to move, she listened to the thunder from the back mountains. For a cultivator at the peak of the Great Ascension Realm, such tribulation lightning was nothing—she had endured far worse in her own trials.
Lying on the bed, she gritted her teeth, wishing she could drag Mo Zhu over and give him a good scolding. That reckless child! Hadn’t she told him to wait until she finished preparing the elixirs? And yet, he’d gone ahead to face the tribulation!
The thunder tribulation for reaching the Nascent Soul Realm consisted of nine strikes. She counted them inside the room—nine came and went swiftly.
[Ding. The male protagonist has advanced to the early-stage Nascent Soul Realm. Host’s merit points +100. Current merit points: 1550. Keep up the good work.]
Yu Zhiling’s tension dissolved, replaced by relief. Only then did she realize she was drenched in cold sweat.
Good, good. The tribulation had passed smoothly. He’d be back soon.
She lay back, optimistic, waiting for her little disciple to return so she could prepare a small gift for him.
Just as she closed her eyes, thunder roared again. Her eyes flew open.
Wait, hadn’t the tribulation ended? Why was there more?
Panicked and still unable to move, she quickly dialed Yan Shanqing’s jade token.
"Senior Brother, help! Come quick, something’s wrong!"
After hanging up, she immediately called Xiang Wuxue and Ning Hengwu.
"Second Senior Sister! Third Senior Brother! Help!"
Within a quarter of an hour, her small courtyard was crowded with people. Yu Zhiling lay on the bed, whimpering.
"Senior Brothers and Sisters, help!"
Her desperate cries alarmed the group. Ning Hengwu hurried forward, helping her sit up and patting her head gently.
"Little Five, what’s wrong? Are your injuries acting up again?"
Yu Zhiling was frantic. She grabbed Ning Hengwu’s wrist. "It’s Mo Zhu! My disciple is undergoing tribulation, but the Nascent Soul tribulation is supposed to be nine strikes, right? He’s already been struck over a dozen times! Is the Heavenly Dao glitching or something?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, the mechanical voice echoed in her mind again.
[Ding. The male protagonist has advanced to the mid-stage Nascent Soul Realm. Host’s merit points +100. Current merit points: 1650. Keep up the good work.]
Yu Zhiling: "..."
The others frowned.
"This is strange. Why is the tribulation so prolonged?"
"Senior Brother, I’ll go check. Mo Zhu should still be in the back mountains."
"Let’s all go. We should see what’s happening."
Yu Zhiling cut them off. "No need."
Yan Shanqing blinked. "Weren’t you worried about Mo Zhu?"
She lay back down, hands folded over her stomach, eyes closed in serene contentment.
"It’s fine. Let him take a few more strikes."
Yan Shanqing, Ning Hengwu, Xiang Wuxue: "..."
Yu Zhiling was practically floating with joy. Her precious disciple was so impressive! While others took decades to advance a single stage, he was leaping through multiple realms in one go!
That wasn’t a glitch—it was her hardworking little disciple enduring tribulation for the sake of her merit points!
The room fell silent as the tribulation lightning continued, strike after strike.
Half an hour later, the thunder finally ceased, and the oppressive clouds over Yingshan Sect’s back mountains dispersed.
[Ding. The male protagonist has advanced to the peak-stage Nascent Soul Realm. Host’s merit points +100. Current merit points: 1750. Keep up the good work.]
Yu Zhiling eagerly grabbed her jade token again.
This time, the call connected.
"Shizun."
"Mo Zhu!"
Her voice was loud, her joy unmistakable. The three senior disciples exchanged complicated glances.
Mo Zhu sounded weak but still gentle.
"Shizun, did you sleep well?"
"Yes, yes!" She nodded vigorously, mentally tallying her merit points and growing even more excited. "How are you feeling? Are you tired? Do you want anything to eat? I’ll have someone prepare it for you!"
"No need, Shizun. I’ll be back soon."
"Okay!"
So absorbed in her conversation, she didn’t notice the others quietly slipping out.
Once the door closed behind them, Xiang Wuxue sighed softly. "Little Five has been much livelier lately. It’s good to see."
He didn’t know about Yu Zhiling and Mo Zhu’s relationship, but Yan Shanqing and Ning Hengwu did.
The two shared a silent look before Yan Shanqing sighed. "Hengwu, let’s go. Mo Zhu will be back soon."
Ning Hengwu glanced back at the closed door. Yu Zhiling’s voice still carried through—bright, happy, chattering away to Mo Zhu, who was likely making his way back from the mountains while humoring her.
She had spent the night thinking, and now, all her reservations finally faded.
Mo Zhu’s talent was undeniable. Though he was just an ordinary snake demon, his aptitude was exceptional—destined to become a powerhouse in the Central Plains. With strength like his, no one would dare gossip.
And more importantly…
Yu Zhiling was truly happy.
Ning Hengwu turned and left.
The courtyard quieted again. Listening Spring Cliff was home only to Yu Zhiling and Mo Zhu, and few disciples ventured here without summons.
As Mo Zhu descended from the back mountains, he caught sight of the three senior disciples disappearing into the distance.
He glanced briefly before looking away. He’d known Yan Shanqing was here yesterday—his heightened senses had picked up the conversation, but Yan Shanqing hadn’t interfered.
Their attitude now suggested they’d reached an understanding. They wouldn’t stand in his way.
That saved a lot of trouble.
Mo Zhu walked toward Yu Zhiling’s courtyard, carrying a few fruits. After changing into fresh robes, he washed the fruits and arranged them on a tray before pushing open her door.
She was still on the bed, but the moment she saw him, she beamed. "Little Mo!"
Her delight was infectious. Mo Zhu couldn’t suppress his smile as he approached, setting the tray on the small table before helping her sit up against the headboard.
"Shizun, are you hungry?"
"No, no!"
She shook her head, eyes scanning him up and down.
He’d changed into clean robes. Aside from a few wounds and slightly disheveled hair, there was no sign he’d just endured a tribulation. Yet, the pressure around him had grown noticeably stronger.
A seventeen-year-old at the peak of the Nascent Soul Realm—even in the Central Plains, he was a prodigy.
Shizun was so proud!
"Wuwu, my dear, your master adores you to death." Yu Zhiling playfully hugged her disciple, one hand gently patting the back of his head. "Full-stage Nascent Soul! So impressive!"
He had actually leaped two minor realms, jumping straight from Golden Core to Full-stage Nascent Soul.
Was that tribulation lightning he endured? No, it was her own merit points being cashed in!
Though she knew her master was a drama queen, Mo Zhu—being a clever one—naturally wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin atop her head and nuzzling lightly.
"Master, do you really like me that much?"
"I adore you to death, wuwu."
A walking, breathing life-support system—the stronger he grew, the longer his master could live!
Mo Zhu tightened his embrace and whispered, "Then can Master keep liking me forever?"
"Of course!" Yu Zhiling rubbed her face against his chest, grinning. "Master loves diligent, capable little disciples like you the most!"
Mo Zhu could tell she was delighted by his cultivation progress. The more powerful he became, the happier she seemed.
His master was a good master, but...
He didn’t want to be a good disciple.
Since she didn’t pull away, Mo Zhu kept holding her. He loved being close to her, even though he knew she still saw him as nothing more than a disciple.
Suddenly, Yu Zhiling tilted her head back and stared intently at Mo Zhu.
"What’s wrong, Master?"
Yu Zhiling smacked him lightly. "My fruits!"
Those were wild berries from the back mountain, her favorite—sweet and tangy, perfect for whetting the appetite. Mo Zhu often picked them for her when he went to train.
Mo Zhu: "...Right."
The mood was thoroughly ruined.
With a sigh, the little ink-blob (Mo Zhu) fetched the plate of berries for her.
But Yu Zhiling smacked him again. "Wait, I haven’t washed up yet!"
"Alright."
Mo Zhu never refused her. He carried her to the washroom, waited until she was done, then handed her the berries again.
Yu Zhiling lounged on the soft daybed in the courtyard, legs draped over Mo Zhu’s lap, swinging lazily. He watched with amusement but remained seated properly beside her, keeping guard.
After she finished two berries, he dutifully took out a silk handkerchief to wipe her hands, his expression tender, his movements meticulous. Yu Zhiling was deeply moved.
"My sweet, you’ll make such a wonderful husband someday."
Mo Zhu paused, lifting his gaze to meet hers.
"Master really thinks so?"
She nodded vigorously. "Of course! My disciple is handsome, hardworking, caring, and reliable. I’m sure you’d never be unfaithful!"
The corners of Mo Zhu’s lips curled slightly as he echoed her words. "Master, this disciple will never like anyone else. There’s only one person I’ll ever love."
"Good! If you dare misbehave after marriage, forget your spouse—I’ll be the first to draw my sword and beat you to death!"
Mo Zhu nodded solemnly. "Understood. In this lifetime, I’ll only take one Dao companion and love only one woman."
His voice softened, his eyes fixed on her, willing her to understand his feelings. But his oblivious master remained clueless, simply patting his head with a smile.
"You’re such a good boy."
If not for his strong mental fortitude, this "good boy" might’ve succumbed to depression long ago.
With a resigned sigh, Mo Zhu bent down to help her put on her shoes and socks. "What are Master’s plans for today?"
Yu Zhiling’s eyes sparkled as she scooted closer. "Is there anything you want? I’ll get you a little gift."
Mo Zhu: "What do I want?"
Yu Zhiling: "Yeah, I promised you a reward, remember? Now that you’ve reached Full-stage Nascent Soul, how about I buy you something?"
Oh, that kind of reward.
Mo Zhu lowered his gaze, collecting the berry pits into the plate. "This disciple doesn’t need anything. Master shouldn’t trouble herself."
Yu Zhiling shook her head. "Nope, I insist. A master’s word is law—if I don’t reward you, where’s my dignity?"
But what to give him?
Mo Zhu seemed to lack nothing. As an inner disciple of the Yingshan Sect, his monthly allowance was generous, and he never appeared short on funds. During his three years of training outside, he’d probably taken on enough demon-slaying jobs to afford fine fabrics for his robes.
Food, then?
But Mo Zhu had a poor appetite, eating less than half of what Yu Zhiling did. He didn’t seem to care much for such things either.
After a moment of contemplation, Yu Zhiling suddenly clapped her hands. "Mo Zhu, I’ll take you to the Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion!"
Mo Zhu: "Master, what for?"
Yu Zhiling winked mysteriously. "You’ll see when we get there."
She had a gift in mind for him—something she’d been planning for a while.
Without waiting for his response, she spread her arms. "Carry me! We’ll take the Mustard Seed Boat. It’s fast."
Mo Zhu never refused her. Assuming his little master was just in high spirits, he knelt and let her climb onto his back.
The Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion wasn’t far from the Yingshan Sect—just an hour by Mustard Seed Boat.
As Mo Zhu carried Yu Zhiling through the entrance, a lazy voice drifted over.
"What’ll it be? Divine weapons start at 100,000 high-grade spirit stones. Jewelry starts at 10,000. Price adjusts based on complexity."
Yu Zhiling peeked over Mo Zhu’s shoulder and cleared her throat. "I need something crafted. See if you can make it."
She pulled a slip of paper from her Qiankun pouch. Understanding her intent, Mo Zhu walked to the counter, where Yu Zhiling placed the note.
The counter was high, obscuring the person behind it, but the voice sounded young and feminine.
A hand reached out and took the paper. There was a rustling sound as it was presumably unfolded, followed by silence—likely while the crafter calculated the cost.
After nearly fifteen minutes, Yu Zhiling grew impatient. How long did it take to decide whether something was feasible?
"Um, can you—"
"Miss."
A head popped up from behind the counter—a girl with playful twin buns, dressed in pink, her features bright and charming. She couldn’t have been very old.
Fucui looked troubled. "This drawing is... extremely abstract."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Yu Zhiling protested loudly, "It’s not abstract! It’s a snake! A snake, snake, SNAKE!"
Fucui unfolded the paper. Mo Zhu glanced over and saw a chubby, cartoonish serpent with crisscrossed lines that were presumably scales.
Fucui turned to Mo Zhu. "Young master, can you tell what this is?"
Yu Zhiling smacked Mo Zhu’s shoulder. "Tell her!"
Defend your master’s dignity!
Mo Zhu nodded. "It’s a snake."
Fucui: "What kind of snake?"
Mo Zhu: "A rather... plump one."
Yu Zhiling: "???"
Yu Zhiling said expressionlessly, "You're done for. You're expelled from the sect."
Mo Zhu quickly corrected himself, "A chubby but adorable snake."
The irritated master let out a disgruntled huff.
"Can you forge it or not? If not, we’ll find another shop."
Fucui frowned deeply and replied, "We can, but your drawing is too abstract. It’ll cost extra."
Yu Zhiling, exuding extravagance, slapped a pouch of coins onto the table. "Forge it. Money isn’t an issue, but it must be made with Mystic Iron Jade."
Fucui peeked into the Qiankun Bag and was nearly blinded by the gleaming spirit stones inside. Her face immediately lit up with delight.
"Excellent! I’ll have our master personally handle this for you. The Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion still has a piece of Mystic Iron Jade. Please wait a moment."
With no one in sight, Mo Zhu glanced back at Yu Zhiling, who was playfully perched on his back. She pinched his cheek with a grin.
"Just wait. It’ll turn out beautifully once it’s forged. I’ll polish it up for you afterward."
He didn’t understand what she was having made, but he’d cherish anything she gave him.
Mo Zhu nodded gently. "Alright. Thank you, Master."
The Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion was lavishly decorated, a testament to its prosperity, yet few patrons frequented it—their prices were exorbitant, far beyond the means of ordinary cultivators.
But their craftsmanship was unparalleled, using only the finest materials. No matter how intricate or absurd the request, they could flawlessly bring it to life.
Yu Zhiling, never short on funds, lounged in a wooden chair while waiting for Fucui to return. To pass the time, she nibbled on snacks handed to her by her disciple.
Fucui took her time, and Yu Zhiling waited patiently. Beside her, Mo Zhu sat upright, eyes closed, immersed in meditation—a true workaholic, proving that true masters never complained about their surroundings.
Just as Yu Zhiling was dozing off, a mechanical voice echoed in her mind.
[Ding! The male protagonist has mastered the "Return to Origin Heart Technique." Host’s virtue points +50. Current virtue points: 1800. Keep up the good work.]
Yu Zhiling: "..."
She glanced at her disciple, who sat rigidly, a faint golden aura swirling around him. In her eyes, he now resembled a radiant, glowing Buddha.
What a saint!
Fucui finally reappeared at that moment.
"Young lady, my master requests your presence inside."
Mo Zhu’s eyes snapped open, cold and alert.
Yu Zhiling arched a delicate brow. "Me?"
Fucui bowed respectfully. "Yes. My master wishes to speak with you."
Mo Zhu interjected, "I’m coming too."
Fucui shook her head. "No. My master specifically asked for this young lady." She emphasized the words, making it clear that only Yu Zhiling was invited.
Mo Zhu: "No."
Yu Zhiling: "Uh, do I look like I can move?"
Couldn’t anyone tell she was practically paralyzed from the waist down?
Fucui nodded. "No worries. My master has prepared."
She disappeared briefly, then returned pushing—
A wheelchair.
Yu Zhiling’s eyes widened. "So high-tech?"
The design, the wheels—it even seemed self-propelled.
Without Fucui touching it, the wheelchair glided toward Yu Zhiling, waiting for her to sit.
Mo Zhu stood abruptly. "Absolutely not. If it’s just about forging an accessory, a simple yes or no will suffice. Why does your master need to see my master? And if your master insists on meeting someone—"
His voice dropped, icy as his gaze fixed on the dark stone gate behind Fucui. "Why doesn’t she come out herself?"
Fucui remained unruffled. "My master said she and the young lady are old acquaintances. They met many years ago. My master’s name is Liu Guizheng."
Mo Zhu’s expression darkened further. "I don’t care who she is. If she wants to see my master, she can—"
"Mo Zhu."
Yu Zhiling tugged his sleeve.
He turned to her. She looked up, her voice soft. "I... think I do know her. I’d like to go in."
The name stirred an inexplicable familiarity in her.
"Master?"
Yu Zhiling shook her head. "It’s fine. No one can harm me."
Even in her weakened state, she had more than enough power to protect herself.
Mo Zhu pressed his lips together but finally nodded. He carefully lifted Yu Zhiling and placed her in the wheelchair.
"Young master, rest assured. My master merely wishes to converse," Fucui reassured before pushing the wheelchair forward.
Yu Zhiling peeked back at her disciple, who stood rigid, his face stormy. Sensing his unease, she flashed him a tiny heart gesture, coaxing a reluctant smile from him.
Good. If he was smiling, things were fine.
Yu Zhiling settled back as Fucui wheeled her through a long corridor. Beyond the front hall lay a sprawling garden, lush with exotic flora—most of which Yu Zhiling didn’t recognize. Clearly, Liu Guizheng had refined tastes.
They stopped before a pavilion. Fucui knocked lightly.
"Master, Immortal Lord Zhuoyu has arrived."
Yu Zhiling whipped her head around, brows furrowed.
"How did you know I’m Immortal Lord Zhuoyu?"
"The one who knows is me."
Fucui didn’t answer—the voice came from inside.
The door swung open, an unspoken invitation.
Fucui guided Yu Zhiling inside. The room’s decor went unnoticed as her eyes locked onto the figure by the window—slender, draped in scandalously thin robes.
No, scandalously was an understatement.
The gauzy fabric left little to the imagination, revealing the elegant curve of her spine and the crisscrossed ribbons of her undergarments.
Yu Zhiling’s face flushed. She averted her gaze, coughing lightly. "Ahem, miss, could you... put on more clothes?"
Fucui had already slipped away, leaving only Yu Zhiling and Liu Guizheng in the room.
Liu Guizheng stood by the window, one hand pressing down on an escaping black tortoise attempting a jailbreak from its fish tank.
"Golden Crow, if you try to escape again, I’ll turn you into turtle soup."
She wiped her fingers with a silk handkerchief. The clumsy tortoise retreated to a corner of the glass tank, its head tucked behind a fake plant—only its sulky tail visible.
Having disciplined her pet, Liu Guizheng leaned against the windowsill, her gaze languid yet piercing as it settled on Yu Zhiling.
"Now you see why I didn’t let your little disciple in? He’s unworthy of laying eyes on me."
Yu Zhiling nodded dumbly. "You’re... very considerate."
If Mo Zhu had barged in, he’d have probably scooped her up and bolted—her disciple was a proper, straitlaced prude.
"This place has only ever welcomed two people: Fucui and one other. Only one person ever deserved an audience with me."
Liu Guizheng walked toward her, her slender legs faintly visible as she moved. Though Yu Zhiling had seen plenty of modern women in short skirts during summer back in her world, seeing it here—where modestly dressed cultivators were the norm—left her feeling awkward. She averted her gaze.
"W-who came to visit?"
Liu Guizheng stopped before her, looking down at Yu Zhiling seated in the wheelchair.
"You."
Yu Zhiling: "Huh? Me?"
Liu Guizheng's expression remained calm. "Only you. Only you are worthy of seeing me. We were very close friends."
Yu Zhiling: "...I'm honored."
Immortal Lord Zhuoyu had a best friend?!
The original novel hadn’t mentioned this at all!
Liu Guizheng knelt before her, her gaze lingering on Yu Zhiling’s face as if recalling something, her expression suddenly sorrowful.
"It’s been so long since you last saw me. You promised we’d always be friends, that you’d visit often to talk."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Tears welled in the beauty’s eyes as she choked out, "Do you not want to be friends anymore? Is it because I never told you about that matter back then? I’m sorry, alright? Please forgive me."
Yu Zhiling immediately surrendered. "No, no, no! It’s my fault, don’t cry!"
How could someone so beautiful ever be at fault?
This had to be Zhuoyu’s mistake!
Yu Zhiling took Liu Guizheng’s hands, her protective instincts flaring.
"Don’t cry. It’s definitely my fault. I must’ve lost my mind these past ten years—oh, right, I was in seclusion for three years. Maybe the lightning strikes scrambled my brain. I’ve forgotten so much, even my senior brothers. I really didn’t mean to neglect you."
Good grief, the mess Zhuoyu left behind was endless.
Liu Guizheng wiped her tears and murmured, "It’s been so many years. I’ve been waiting for you. When Fucui brought me the painting, I recognized you immediately. Even after all this time, your brushwork is still so... unique."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Thanks, but that last part wasn’t necessary.
Liu Guizheng dried her tears and glanced at Yu Zhiling in the wheelchair.
"I heard you used Windfrost Slash for the second time in Nandu."
Yu Zhiling: "How did you know?"
"The whole of Zhongzhou is talking about it." Liu Guizheng’s expression darkened. "When I found out, I guessed you’d struggle to walk for a while. So I crafted this chair myself. I was planning to refine it further before bringing it to Yingshan Sect to see you. If you wouldn’t come to me, I’d go to you."
Her tears fell again.
Yu Zhiling: "..."
Zhuoyu, how could you?!
How could anyone neglect such a stunning best friend?
Liu Guizheng stood and wheeled the chair to the table, taking a seat beside Yu Zhiling.
"You came here to commission something?"
Yu Zhiling answered honestly. "Yes."
Liu Guizheng whispered, "So you didn’t come just to talk to me."
Yu Zhiling: "..."
These past few minutes had been like treading on thin ice.
Liu Guizheng: "It’s alright. Just your presence is enough. About what happened back then... I truly didn’t mean to hide it from you. Zhuoyu, please don’t be angry anymore."
Yu Zhiling forced a smile. "I’m not angry. Really, I’m not."
Whenever she felt awkward, she needed to busy herself. So she took the teapot from Liu Guizheng and started brewing tea.
Liu Guizheng didn’t seem like someone who went out often—her skin was unnaturally pale. Maybe Zhuoyu used to visit her often, and over time, they became friends. But later, some small conflict must have arisen.
Just a minor issue, Yu Zhiling reasoned. Surely her brilliant mind could handle it.
"Ah-Ling, back then, you asked me if I knew how to enter the Demon Abyss. I did know, but I couldn’t tell you."
Yu Zhiling’s hands stilled.
The Demon Abyss?
Liu Guizheng looked remorseful, biting her lip before speaking softly. "Do you know the Demon Abyss leads to the Northern Demon Realm? If you went in, you’d be walking into the lion’s den. Those demonic cultivators would devour you. I couldn’t let you go."
Yu Zhiling slowly set down the teacup.
She stared at Liu Guizheng, who stared back.
The air between them froze. Neither spoke for a long moment.
Finally, Yu Zhiling rasped, "You’re saying... I wanted to enter the Demon Abyss?"
"Yes."
Liu Guizheng nodded. "You said it yourself."
—Guizheng, I must enter the Demon Abyss.
Yu Zhiling thought Zhuoyu was insane.
The Demon Abyss—sealed by the Four Slaughter Steles, the passage to the Northern Demon Realm—was nearly impossible to enter, let alone escape.
Even a Mahayana-stage cultivator stood no chance against the endless hordes of demons.
Yet a dreadful suspicion gnawed at Yu Zhiling.
Zhuoyu... might have actually gone in.
