After saying these words, Mo Zhu fell silent.
The Immortal Lord Zhuoyu cherished tranquility, so Tingchun Cliff was inhabited solely by her, with outsiders rarely visiting. Now, the vast mountain peak held only her and Mo Zhu, so quiet that only the wind, the chirping of cicadas, and her own rapid heartbeat could be heard.
Yu Zhiling took a deep breath, realizing now that Mo Zhu must have grown suspicious.
He had begun to doubt her.
Earlier, when she had been asleep, she hadn’t sensed Mo Zhu’s approach—a fatal oversight for a cultivator at the Great Ascension stage. Mo Zhu had also noticed the weakening of her spiritual pressure.
Yu Zhiling was not Zhuoyu. She lacked the Immortal Lord’s overwhelming presence and vigilance.
After the frantic pounding of her heart came the boy’s silent approach, his cool voice drawing near: "Master, are you unwilling?"
He had stepped behind her.
Yu Zhiling was terrified, her hands trembling, but she forced herself to turn around, mustering a smile as she asked, "The night is deep, and you must be tired. Why not return tomorrow?"
At the very least, she needed to survive this moment. Tonight, she would think of a way out. If nothing came to mind, she’d flee to Yan Shanqing’s place at dawn—but she needed time to react!
Mo Zhu continued watching her. His stature was imposing; when standing beside her, the boy nearly engulfed her in his shadow, exuding an overwhelming presence.
"Master, it’s only a quarter past Xu hour, before the Yingshan Sect’s curfew. This disciple truly cannot grasp this technique. Your swordsmanship is unmatched in Zhongzhou..."
His eyes darkened abruptly beneath Yu Zhiling’s feigned composure as he summoned a silver-white sword with a flick of his wrist.
"This disciple sincerely wishes to learn."
A flash of steel—his movements were too swift for Yu Zhiling to follow. By the time she reacted, the blade was already thrusting toward her face, her heart leaping into her throat.
Help! Help me!!
At the brink of life and death, an unprecedented crisis struck. Yu Zhiling’s mind blanked, unsure how to respond. Yet, just as Mo Zhu’s sword neared her throat—
A surge of immense spiritual pressure erupted from her body. A dark-green sword flew from the house, and before her mind could catch up, her body reacted instinctively. Lightly pushing off the ground, she leaped onto the stone steps, catching the sword in one fluid motion.
With a horizontal slash, her sword energy surged like a tidal wave toward Mo Zhu, stirring a fierce, icy gale. The black-clad youth sidestepped, landing elsewhere in a blur.
She stood atop the steps; Mo Zhu remained below.
Tilting his head slightly, his sharp features were illuminated by the moonlight, his skin almost translucent.
Meanwhile, Yu Zhiling, clad in green robes, appeared cold and untouchable. The sword energy whipped at her hair, her spiritual power radiating intensely—an aura he hadn’t sensed from her during the day.
Mo Zhu tightened his grip on his sword, his expression calm, lips curving faintly. "Master’s Zhujian Sword truly lives up to its reputation. Yet in the past ten years, I’ve never seen you wield it."
Yu Zhiling’s expression remained unchanged, her sword hand steady—but her other hand trembled violently inside her sleeve.
Was that her just now?!
Did she just swing that sword?!
Ahhh—she was terrifyingly strong!!!
Her inner self was jumping for joy, but she suppressed her grin, maintaining a composed tone. "Mm. The night is late. Rest for now."
She had no idea how she’d summoned the Zhujian Sword, where this sudden surge of spiritual power came from, or how she’d unleashed such formidable sword energy.
But Yu Zhiling knew one thing: if this was a stroke of luck, a second attempt from Mo Zhu might end in tragedy.
Feigning indifference, she sheathed her sword and turned to leave—but Mo Zhu’s suspicions hadn’t faded.
"Master, this disciple still hasn’t grasped the technique. Would you demonstrate once more?"
His smile faded, his dark eyes chilling. "This disciple doesn’t understand—what is ‘Shaking the Stars’?"
The moment the words left his lips, Mo Zhu lunged again. Empowered by his spiritual energy, his silver sword transformed into a streak of light, its unleashed pressure far surpassing that of a Golden Core cultivator.
Not again!
Help me!!
Yu Zhiling’s pupils constricted as she glimpsed the killing intent in his eyes. Panic seized her, the sharp sword energy forcing her eyes shut before she could even think to counter—let alone recall how she’d struck before.
Yet the instant her eyelids closed—
The howling wind, the whistling blade, the biting cold, and the undisguised bloodlust vanished. She found herself in another world, one woven with golden light.
In the darkness, faint golden threads brightened, intertwining like a spider’s web, cocooning her within.
At the same time, a distant voice echoed in her mind.
"Little Five, don’t be afraid. Feel it."
Feel it.
Instinctively, she trusted the voice, as if its words were absolute truth.
She reached for the golden threads, letting them pass through her body. The energy flowed through her meridians, a soft glow enveloping her, dispelling the darkness.
As the light brightened, lines of ancient scripture appeared before her—complex sword techniques and cultivation methods she shouldn’t have understood. Yet miraculously, they rearranged into simple, comprehensible words.
She could grasp them. Memorize them.
"The Primordial Sword Art," "The Yingshan Sword Manual," "The Origin Heart Sutra"...
A gentle current coursed through her meridians, converging in her dantian.
Then—Yu Zhiling opened her eyes.
Mo Zhu’s attack was already upon her.
Through the lethal strike, she saw his icy, merciless face.
Mo Zhu tightened his grip. Yu Zhiling had closed her eyes for only a breath—but that was all his killing move required.
Yet as his blade reached her vitals—she seemed to transform.
Her left hand swept the sword sideways, its energy deflecting his strike with unstoppable force, shattering his technique and sending him reeling back.
Countless starlike sparks erupted, the explosive pressure surging toward Mo Zhu in a storm. He stood unmoved, watching calmly as the sword energy coalesced into a swirling cloud before him—only to burst apart at the last moment.
Tiny embers cascaded like falling stars, drifting like fireflies caught in a breeze.
Through the shimmering light, Mo Zhu glimpsed Yu Zhiling above him.
She gazed down imperiously, her features stark and cold under the moonlight.
For a moment, he saw her again—the green-robed immortal from years past, who had cradled his bloodied self in her arms and led him to the Yingshan Sect.
At that time, Mo Zhu believed she was the most radiant person in all of Zhongzhou. He wanted to follow her forever, to be loyal to her, to trust her without question.
But later, she changed. She no longer wore her green robes, no longer smiled, no longer guided him in cultivation.
Every shred of admiration he held for her shattered under the daily lash of her cruel words and the torment of venomous insects, until nothing remained but bone-deep hatred.
Immortal Lord Zhuoyu—her bearing was that of a celestial, yet she lacked a celestial’s heart.
When the last of the starlight scattered across the sky, the immortal standing atop the jade-green steps spoke softly.
"This technique is called 'Shaking the Stars.' When the sword’s energy erupts, it resembles countless falling stars. If you reach the pinnacle of the Tribulation Transcendence realm, you could even sever the heavens with this strike."
Mo Zhu wiped the blood from the cut on his cheek—left by the sword’s edge—without a second thought. Sheathing his blade, he bowed respectfully. "This disciple thanks his master for the guidance. I will remember it well."
"Mm. You may leave. Your quarters are in the courtyard to the side."
"As you command, Master."
Mo Zhu nodded and turned away, his gaze deliberately avoiding Yu Zhiling—lingering instead on her lowered right hand.
Once outside, he found the room she had assigned him but paused at the arched gate, unwilling to step inside.
His long lashes cast shadows as a branch stretched over the courtyard wall, its leaves filtering moonlight across half his face. Behind the dappled shadows, his eyes gleamed cold as frost.
He hadn’t been mistaken earlier. When Yu Zhiling raised her sword, her sleeve slipped back, revealing a bracelet around her wrist.
She had never worn such a thing before.
After sending her troublesome disciple away, Yu Zhiling returned to her chambers as if nothing had happened.
Alone at last, she clenched her fists and silently jumped for joy.
She was incredible!!!
"System, System, did you see that? That sword technique—no, both of them! Absolutely earth-shattering!"
The system remained silent, its mechanical indifference unbroken except when issuing tasks.
Yu Zhiling didn’t mind. Giddy, she sat down, her pulse still racing—half from fear of the male lead, half from sheer awe of her own brilliance.
She examined her hands—slender, jade-white, yet calloused at the fingertips and thumb from years of swordplay. Even Immortal Lord Zhuoyu had trained hard, it seemed.
Could someone like this truly be the same person who had tormented Mo Zhu in the original story?
Her excitement dimmed. Then she remembered the voice she’d heard before striking—gentle, feminine, both familiar and strange.
The original owner of this body was dead. It couldn’t have been her.
Yet the moment that voice spoke, time seemed to stretch. Though only a second passed in the real world, Yu Zhiling’s consciousness had lived an entire day within her mind.
Every sword technique, every arcane scripture, every talisman Immortal Lord Zhuoyu had ever mastered flooded into her. In an instant, Yu Zhiling learned the language of this world, deciphered cryptic sword manuals, and understood how to wield the blade in her hand.
She lifted the slender sword.
Forged from dark jade, the blade—named "Chasing Azure"—was Immortal Lord Zhuoyu’s lifebound weapon, the very sword that had carved her legend across Zhongzhou. With it, she had crushed countless evils and secured her place among the immortals.
Yu Zhiling focused, channeling spiritual energy into the blade as she’d seen in her vision. With a flick of her wrist, she executed a flawless flourish.
It felt effortless, as if she’d wielded this sword a thousand times before.
Why could she command spiritual power without inheriting Zhuoyu’s memories?
The answer eluded her.
She sipped the cold tea left from earlier, unbothered by its temperature. After draining the cup, she sighed and rested her chin on her hand.
"Now that I can use my cultivation… next is suppressing the Four Slaughter Realms."
A mechanical chime echoed in her mind.
[Ding. Side quest triggered: Host must suppress the Four Slaughter Realms. Reward upon completion: 50 Virtue Points.]
Yu Zhiling jolted. "My main mission is turning the male lead into a cultivation maniac! Why are there side quests?!"
This time, the system deigned to reply, its tone clinical. [Host’s primary objective is aiding the male lead’s cultivation to stabilize his protagonist aura. However, world stability depends on multiple factors beyond the male lead alone.]
Her first thought: overtime. Two jobs for one person?!
Her second: Wait—doesn’t this mean faster Virtue Points?
Relying solely on Mo Zhu’s progress would take forever to amass 5,000 points. But with side quests, she could advance on both fronts.
Yu Zhiling slammed the table. "Fine, I’ll do it!"
Fifty Virtue Points meant fifty extra years of life.
Besides, suppressing the Four Slaughter Realms was Immortal Lord Zhuoyu’s duty. As her successor, Yu Zhiling had no choice.
Maybe this wasn’t so bad?
She’d complete the tasks, but she needed a backup plan.
If Mo Zhu surpassed her before she saved enough points, how would she escape?
Solution:
She had to redeem herself.
It wouldn’t be easy, but she had to try. Not necessarily to earn his forgiveness—just to make him hesitate long enough that he might spare her in the end.
Hope was a beautiful thing!
Yu Zhiling grabbed a fresh notebook, flopped onto the desk, and scrawled a title in bold strokes.
—The Villainous Master’s Survival Guide.
Tonight, she’d fight for her life—one stroke at a time.
