It was already late by the time they returned to the Yingshan Sect.
As the mustard-seed boat landed at the foot of Yingshan Mountain, Yu Zhiling spotted Ning Hengwu waiting below.
"Second Senior Sister!"
Yu Zhiling waved from the deck, her smile radiant.
Ning Hengwu turned and, upon seeing Yu Zhiling, couldn’t help but chuckle. She watched as Yu Zhiling disembarked. "Your clothes are torn again. The new robes Fourth Senior Sister made for you lasted barely a day."
She tugged at the loose ribbons on Yu Zhiling’s outfit, teasing.
Yu Zhiling clung to her arm, pouting. "Then Second Senior Sister should make me two more sets!"
Ning Hengwu rolled her eyes. "You’re always scheming to take advantage of your seniors."
Yu Zhiling grinned shamelessly, her carefree demeanor unchanged, then gestured for Chan Luo to come down from the boat.
Chan Luo stepped forward, the pearl flowers in her hair shattered. Yu Zhiling lent her a hair ribbon from her own pouch, tying her long tresses into a loose bun. Chan Luo avoided Ning Hengwu’s gaze, her guilt toward the Yingshan Sect palpable.
Ning Hengwu narrowed her eyes, recognizing the aura of a demon, though her politeness remained intact. "And this is…?"
Yu Zhiling cleared her throat, urging Chan Luo to speak, but the latter kept her head lowered, silent.
She was so talkative in the Seven Extremes Land—why play mute now?
Frustrated, Yu Zhiling leaned closer to Ning Hengwu and whispered, "You know the Third Protector who was slain in the Seven Extremes Land? The golden cicada by her side… that’s her."
Ning Hengwu’s expression darkened instantly. Yu Zhiling hastily explained the whole story, emphasizing that Chan Luo was innocent.
"Innocent?" Ning Hengwu’s eyes reddened as she pointed at Chan Luo. "If she’s innocent, then what were the past ten years for you? Just a friendly chat?"
"Second Senior Sister?"
"Are you really this foolish? Even if she didn’t serve You Zhou directly, who was it that kept tormenting you in the Demon Abyss? Who kept asking if you regretted it? How can you just forget all that?"
Yu Zhiling realized Ning Hengwu had misunderstood. "Second Senior Sister, it’s not like that. I think there’s more to what happened back then—"
Ning Hengwu shook her off, her gaze sharp as a blade as it swept over Chan Luo, who stood silently in the distance. "She was deceived? She had her reasons? Then what about you? Were you just supposed to suffer for her mistakes?"
Her anger was palpable. Yu Zhiling panicked, stepping forward to apologize. "Senior Sister, don’t be angry. That’s not what I meant. I just think the truth of that incident still isn’t clear—Senior Sister?"
Ning Hengwu turned and walked away without another glance at either of them.
Yu Zhiling looked between Chan Luo and Ning Hengwu’s retreating figure. The disciples guarding the mountain foot held their breath, sensing the tension between the two elders even if they hadn’t heard the details.
Chan Luo murmured, "Your senior sister is right. I did bring you harm. Yu Zhiling, I’m grateful you’re willing to forgive me, but the fact remains—I wronged you. I—"
"Stop." Yu Zhiling cut her off, irritated by her timid demeanor. "Do you think I’m stupid?"
Chan Luo lifted her eyes hesitantly. "What?"
Yu Zhiling’s voice turned serious. "I was trapped in the Demon Abyss. I remember dreaming of it—I should’ve been gravely injured, surrounded by countless demons tearing at me. Why didn’t I die?"
Chan Luo opened her mouth but said nothing.
Yu Zhiling answered for her. "You pulled me into your domain, didn’t you?"
Chan Luo lowered her gaze. "...Yes."
"To save me?"
"No. At first… You Zhou sent me to kill you. I just couldn’t do it. I wanted answers from you, so I drew you into my world."
"And I went mad because of you?"
"Your madness wasn’t my doing. At first, you were calm in my domain, meditating every day. But then… you suddenly collapsed. When you woke, you weren’t yourself anymore. It was like… you’d seen something."
Yu Zhiling had suspected as much. True madness—especially for a cultivator of the Clear Heart Path—couldn’t be caused by mere darkness and solitude. Something else must have shattered her.
She nodded. "Alright. I understand."
Chan Luo wasn’t entirely blameless, but neither was she wholly guilty. Yu Zhiling knew why Ning Hengwu was angry.
Chan Luo whispered, "I’m sorry. I failed at everything."
Yu Zhiling sighed, exasperated by her self-pity. "You’re a peak Great Perfection cultivator. Why do you keep wallowing like this? So you stumbled over a man—does that mean you’ll never stand again? With your power, you could dominate the Central Continent. Back in my day, I walked sideways through life! Stop cowering like this. I can’t stand it."
Had she really been wallowing?
Chan Luo watched Yu Zhiling under the moonlight, silhouetted against the tallest mountain in the Central Continent. She was the strongest cultivator here. Whether trapped in an endless abyss or driven to self-destruction by madness, Yu Zhiling had never once indulged in self-pity.
"I… I’m sorry…"
Six hundred years had passed. Six centuries of numbness, where hatred had eroded love and even her sense of self. She’d lived only for answers.
Yu Zhiling, meanwhile, was preoccupied with where to place her. The disciples’ quarters? Impossible.
Bringing her to Listening Spring Cliff was out of the question—that little snake Mo Zhu was already jealous enough to pick fights with Liu Guizheng.
Ning Hengwu was furious, so her place was off-limits.
Yan Shanqing and Xiang Wuxue lived alone—having Chan Luo stay with them would be improper.
That left Mei Qiongge. Yu Zhiling made up her mind and reached for her jade token to notify her.
"Little Five."
A cold voice carried down the stone steps.
Yu Zhiling responded instinctively, "Yeah, I’m here."
She looked up to meet Ning Hengwu’s frosty expression.
Ning Hengwu glanced at Chan Luo, silent, then turned away.
Yu Zhiling understood immediately. She nudged Chan Luo. "Go on. Second Senior Sister’s giving permission!"
Still dazed, Chan Luo was pushed up the steps.
"Hurry, catch up to her. You’ll stay at her place—it’s spacious."
Chan Luo noticed Ning Hengwu’s steps slowing slightly.
Her sluggish mind caught up. She cautiously closed the distance, walking beside Ning Hengwu but keeping space between them. A sidelong glance confirmed Ning Hengwu wasn’t rejecting her outright.
"...Thank you."
Ning Hengwu didn’t reply, not even looking at her.
Chan Luo added softly, "Thank you… both of you. And… I’m sorry."
Ning Hengwu scoffed coldly and quickened her pace.
Chan Luo could only quicken her pace. When she reached the end, she turned back to look at Yu Zhiling at the foot of the mountain.
Yu Zhiling was happily distributing candies to the disciples guarding the gate. The moonlight bathed her face, her eyes curved into crescents as she laughed freely. A dozen or so disciples surrounded her, accepting the candies and chatting idly with her.
Chan Luo had once wondered why Yu Zhiling was willing to go to such lengths for the Yingshan Sect—how she dared to leap alone into the Demon Abyss, where countless demons nearly tore her apart.
She was still so young, among the high-level cultivators of the Central Continent, her age was remarkably tender, and her experiences weren’t particularly vast. How, then, did she possess such a fearless heart?
Death wasn’t what they feared most—it was the torment of living a fate worse than death, and leaping into the Demon Abyss was precisely that.
Now, Chan Luo understood.
Because Yu Zhiling loved many, and that love gave her the strength to press forward. No matter how bitter or arduous the path, no matter how terrifying the place, she would charge ahead—so long as it meant securing a chance of eternal peace for those she cherished, so long as it meant avenging her late master.
As long as they existed, she would never know fear.
Yu Zhiling was a good person, and the Yingshan Sect was, to her, a true home.
Home—it was far too beautiful a thing.
Yu Zhiling walked while rubbing her shoulders. These past few days had truly exhausted her. She had spent nearly every daylight hour exterminating demonic fiends, and since her return, this was the first time she’d fought such a prolonged battle.
When she spotted the wisp of smoke rising above the Listening Spring Cliff, Yu Zhiling paused on the steps, her lips curving into a smile before she dashed excitedly toward Mo Zhu’s dwelling.
She pushed open the courtyard gate and barreled inside, only to collide straight into Mo Zhu’s embrace.
"Master, what are you doing?" Mo Zhu chuckled lowly, catching his reckless master and holding her close, his chin resting lightly atop her hair as he nuzzled against her.
Yu Zhiling rubbed her forehead and looked up at him from within his arms. "Why did you suddenly open the door? I wanted to scare you!"
Mo Zhu murmured, "I heard your footsteps."
Even if she tried to muffle them, Mo Zhu’s keen ears always detected her return. He had been about to pull the door open to welcome her when Yu Zhiling crashed into him.
Yu Zhiling mumbled, "I’m filthy."
"The bath is ready. Would you like to wash up?"
"...Mm."
Her little disciple was ever so thoughtful. He escorted Yu Zhiling to the bath, where she soaked in the warm spring, feeling as though life couldn’t get any better—it was pure bliss!
If only she could annihilate the mastermind behind all this chaos, then it would be even more perfect!
She idly splashed the water, suddenly recalling that her virtue points had already reached 4,150. That meant the fourth phase of her memories would soon return. It seemed each recollection was meant to reveal one truth—
That she and Zhuo Yu were one and the same.
The pain and despair, no matter how crushing, were memories the system insisted she recover. They came back gradually, not all at once, sparing her from being overwhelmed.
Yu Zhiling rested her arms on the edge of the spring, her long lashes lowering as she whispered, "System."
The system never spoke unless announcing missions or tallying virtue points.
Yu Zhiling said, "Thank you. I know you’ve been good to me."
Whether it was urging her repeatedly to leave Nan City, or fearing she couldn’t bear the weight of her memories and thus returning them piece by piece through virtue points—or even the small habits, like never interrupting her rest with progress updates.
She noticed a figure moving outside the window. Mo Zhu was likely boiling water, his silhouette cast against the thin paper screen of the bathhouse.
It was strange—his mere presence always filled her with an inexhaustible sense of security.
But what would happen once her mission was complete? Would she… still be able to stay here?
Yu Zhiling couldn’t puzzle it out. Were the virtue points meant to prolong her life, or did they serve another purpose?
She lingered in the spring, the steam curling around her as she stared intently at the youthful shadow on the window screen. Even as just a silhouette, his features were striking—Mo Zhu had been blessed with fine looks.
By the time the water cooled, the young man outside spoke up. "Master, should I add more hot water? It’s ready."
Yu Zhiling snapped out of her thoughts and called back, "No need, I’m done."
She quickly dried off, slipped into fresh robes, and pulled the door open. Mo Zhu stood with his back to her, seemingly about to fetch firewood.
Yu Zhiling bounded over and threw herself onto his back. "Mo Zhu!"
Mo Zhu effortlessly hoisted her up, her smooth hair spilling over his shoulders, tickling his neck and stirring a faint itch in his heart.
"Why are you so happy today?" Mo Zhu asked with a smile, sensing her unusually bright mood.
Yu Zhiling rested her chin on his shoulder and kicked her legs lightly. "When am I ever in a bad mood?"
"Master does have her moments."
"But most of the time, I’m perfectly cheerful." She poked his cheek. "A person ought to live happily."
Mo Zhu carried her outside, murmuring in agreement, "As long as you’re happy."
He wished for her to always remain this way—forever joyful.
Today was his eighteenth birthday. Yu Zhiling sat cross-legged in a wide chair, watching as Mo Zhu washed his hands.
He was a man of few words. Left to his own devices, Mo Zhu might not utter a single sentence all day. Initially, he hadn’t paid her much attention either, but after recognizing her in Nan City, it was as if he’d been possessed—suddenly responding to every little thing.
Deep down, he had never forgotten the green-robed immortal who once saved him. In the original story, after Yan Shanqing and the others revealed the truth, Mo Zhu had obeyed the sect leader’s orders and hunted down the false Zhuo Yu. Even after the Yingshan Sect’s destruction, he never gave up.
A single act of kindness, and he was willing to repay it with his life.
Yu Zhiling’s nose stung. She lowered her head to sip her tea as Mo Zhu finished his preparations.
He settled beside her, arranging her bowl and chopsticks before asking gently, "What’s on your mind? Why the sudden gloom?"
"...I’m not gloomy."
"Master may not realize it, but you’re terrible at hiding your emotions."
Whether happy or sorrowful, it was always written plainly on her face.
Yu Zhiling grumbled, "Oh, so you’re an expert now? Then guess why I’m upset."
Mo Zhu peeled a shrimp with deliberate care and, without hesitation, pinpointed the source of her distress. "You’re thinking about the past again, aren’t you?"
Yu Zhiling stayed silent.
Mo Zhu held the peeled shrimp to her lips. She obediently took a bite—after so long being fed by her disciple, it had become second nature.
"The Seven Extremes Burial Ground holds the remains of the Demon Realm’s Third Guardian. I heard he had a golden cicada by his side—though it wasn’t his mount. Combined with the questions you asked before returning, it isn’t hard to guess. You met that cicada, didn’t you? Did she tell you something that’s been weighing on you?"
"...Mm. Her name is Chan Luo. She followed us back to the Yingshan Sect."
"Was she the Third Guardian’s lover?"
"…Actually, that wasn’t the Demon Realm’s Guardian," Yu Zhiling carefully chose her words, speaking solemnly. "He’s the current Demon King of the demonic domain—your grandfather’s subordinate."
Mo Zhu’s hands paused briefly as he peeled the shrimp, his expression cold. Just as Yu Zhiling thought he might get angry, he suddenly resumed his task, mechanically placing the peeled shrimp to her lips.
Yu Zhiling couldn’t quite gauge his mood. She ate each piece he fed her, unsure whether she should continue speaking.
After a long silence, half the plate of shrimp had been peeled. Yu Zhiling dodged the next piece he offered. "Can we… eat something else? I’d like some vegetables."
Only then did Mo Zhu snap out of it. He turned his head away, closing his eyes briefly before murmuring, "Sorry, Master."
So he had reacted. That was good—at least she didn’t have to worry too much.
Yu Zhiling took the chopsticks herself, feeding herself while stealing glances at Mo Zhu. Hesitantly, she spoke again. "Mo Zhu, we’ll kill him. Don’t worry."
Mo Zhu responded with a quiet, "Mm."
He didn’t say anything more. Yu Zhiling ate slowly, trying to ease the tension.
"Something funny happened today. After Chan Luo took me away, the disciples acted like they’d lost their mother—so adorable, searching everywhere for me."
Her voice was soft, teasing.
Mo Zhu couldn’t resist this side of Yu Zhiling. The corner of his lips visibly relaxed.
Encouraged, Yu Zhiling pressed on. "But no matter how cute they were, none compare to the one by my side. I didn’t even let Chan Luo come along, afraid you’d get jealous."
When Mo Zhu still didn’t smile, she wriggled closer, leaning in to whisper by his ear, "I told them—there’s a little snake at home who loves getting jealous. Only the two of us can live in Tingchun Cliff."
Mo Zhu turned his head and kissed her lips—just a brief touch—his eyes glinting with amusement.
Yu Zhiling froze for a second, then touched her own lips, seeing the laughter in his gaze.
"…Always sneaking attacks. No honor at all."
Mo Zhu cupped her face, pressing light kisses to her forehead, one after another, his voice soft and tender.
"Because I like you. Too much."
He didn’t deepen the kiss. Yu Zhiling grabbed his wrist, tilting her head up. "Like or love?"
"What do you think, Master?"
Her face fell instantly. "What kind of answer is that? That’s such a playboy line."
Mo Zhu chuckled, pecking her lips like a chick pecking at rice, his voice husky. "A Flying Serpent’s reverse scale is only given to the one they’ve chosen to spend their life with."
A lover, not just someone they like.
Yu Zhiling’s face flushed red. She dodged his lips, stammering, "Eat. The food’s getting cold."
"I’ve confessed. What about you, Master?" Mo Zhu wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back just as she tried to grab her bowl and flee. "So unfair. Doesn’t Master love me?"
Yu Zhiling buried her face in her rice, suddenly finding plain rice the most delicious thing in the world.
Mo Zhu whined. "Love me or not?"
"Stop talking. Don’t you know the rule—no talking during meals?"
"Love me or not?"
"Shut up!"
Mo Zhu hugged her waist, resting his head on her shoulder, coaxing, "I treat Master so well. Does Master have someone else in her heart?"
Yu Zhiling slapped a hand over his mouth. "Quiet. Eat."
The corners of Mo Zhu’s eyes curved—his smile obvious now, all traces of earlier sorrow gone.
He knew.
She’d blushed.
So he understood.
After the meal, he went to wash the dishes while Yu Zhiling lay on the bamboo couch in the courtyard, hands folded over her stomach. Her thoughts were unusually calm, listening to the rustling sounds in the yard.
Then someone sat beside her.
Yu Zhiling shifted, making room for Mo Zhu as he leaned against the couch. The faint scent of sandalwood drifted to her nose.
"Master, should I build a pavilion for you?"
"Hmm?" Yu Zhiling tilted her head up, poking her little disciple’s waist. "Why?"
"It’s windy. What about when it snows in winter?"
"Third Senior Brother already set up an array when he made this couch. It blocks wind, rain, and snow. But if you want to build one, I won’t stop you."
Mo Zhu looked down at her. "We can sleep in the pavilion later."
Yu Zhiling smacked him again. "Shut up! Who’s sleeping with you?"
Not that they hadn’t before—they’d already shared a bed.
Mo Zhu just smiled, saying nothing.
Eventually, Yu Zhiling grew drowsy. She turned, wrapping her arms around Mo Zhu’s waist, comforted by his scent. Mumbling, she said, "Mo Zhu, I’ll nap for a bit…"
Somewhere in her haze, she felt someone kiss her lips.
"Sleep well, Master."
Chan Luo and Ning Hengwu returned to Zhaoyun Peak.
Standing outside the courtyard, Chan Luo spoke softly. "Am I disturbing you?"
Ning Hengwu turned, her voice icy. "Get lost."
Chan Luo paled slightly but nodded. "Alright, I’ll—"
"Not you." Ning Hengwu glared past her. "You. Get lost."
Chan Luo blinked in confusion before hearing a playful voice behind her.
"Pretty lady, want some fruit? I just picked a bunch."
Fu Zhao, dressed flamboyantly, bounded over eagerly, offering a plate to Ning Hengwu, who ignored him with a glare.
Ning Hengwu was visibly annoyed. "Stop bothering me."
Fu Zhao, ever bold and shameless, pulled out more fruit from his pouch. "Then try this one. It’s really good."
Ning Hengwu ignored him, addressing Chan Luo instead. "You’ll stay in the courtyard across from mine. Clean it up yourself."
With that, she pushed open her own gate and went inside, shutting Fu Zhao out.
Only then did Fu Zhao notice the newcomer. He narrowed his eyes at Chan Luo, raising a brow. "You?"
Chan Luo looked surprised. "You know me?"
Fu Zhao put away the fruit, crossing his arms. "I snuck into the demonic domain a few days ago. Saw him."
No name was needed. Chan Luo’s expression darkened instantly.
Fu Zhao watched her, lazily adding, "He’s doing great—became the Demon King. But seems he still remembers you. Never took a wife all these years."
Chan Luo scoffed. "What’s the point?"
"Planning to go back?"
"If I don’t, won’t he come?"
Fu Zhao shrugged. "Oh, he will. Mo Zhu’s here, after all. He’d love nothing more than to kill him—the Flying Serpent prince so many in the demonic domain have been searching for."
Chan Luo turned, pushing open her courtyard gate. "I’ll wait for him. To die."
Just before the gate closed, Fu Zhao called out, "Chan Luo, the Demon Realm’s stirring too."
Their eyes met, his gaze intense.
"The same thing that happened years ago might repeat. Staying in Yingshan Sect… might not be safe for you."
Chan Luo’s face remained blank. "And you? Why hasn’t the Void Rhinoceros left?"
"I can't bear to part with my beauty. If I leave, what will happen to Yingshan Sect when the Demon King and the Demon Lord join forces against it?"
Chan Luo chuckled and closed the door.
Her voice drifted from the courtyard.
"Some mistakes only need to be made once. I'm willing to repay my past sins with my life."
"Zhu Qing."
Yu Zhiling's expression was cold as she summoned her sword, Zhu Qing.
Her wide sleeves billowed fiercely in the wind, her demeanor icy. The sword returned to her hand, its blade gleaming with a faint green light, radiating lethal intent as droplets of blood slid down.
You Zhou lay on the ground, half his bones already torn from his body, the white fragments stained crimson. Yu Zhiling crushed them underfoot.
The sound of shattering bones was chilling. Yu Zhiling gazed down at him indifferently—his pale, sinister face now slack, his body reduced to a pile of ruined flesh.
Yet You Zhou still laughed, tilting his head to look at her.
"Yu Zhiling, ah, Yu Zhiling. How is it that you never cease to amaze me? If you were a demonic cultivator, I’d give you half the demon realm. But alas—"
Yu Zhiling coldly manipulated Zhu Qing to stab him repeatedly. Gushing black blood erupted from the wounds, splattering onto her face, staining her pristine, indifferent beauty with something grotesque and filthy.
She seemed to be venting her fury, or perhaps just unleashing her rage—plucking out bone after bone, piercing him countless times, turning his body into a sieve. By the time You Zhou could barely breathe, Yu Zhiling finally withdrew her sword.
As she formed a seal, she resembled a goddess. The floral mark between her brows shimmered faintly with green light, her disheveled hair flying wildly behind her. The hairpin she wore must have once held a mermaid pearl, but now it was shattered, no longer able to shine for her.
Her slender hands twisted, and a massive array emerged from the ground, expanding rapidly. Golden inscriptions flowed across it, illuminating her impassive face.
Yu Zhiling looked down at him, her voice low and icy. "You Zhou, go and apologize to my master."
Suddenly, You Zhou, who had been lying motionless, found strength from somewhere and lunged forward.
"Yu Zhiling, do you know? Every person you want to protect—I will slaughter them all."
"Your master, your senior brothers and sisters, Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan, oh, and who else? Liu Guizheng? Hahaha, you have so many friends, don’t you? I’ll make sure—"
His ruined hand smeared filth onto Yu Zhiling’s wrist, staining her green robes with black blood. He leaned closer, his crimson eyes like a vengeful ghost’s.
"One by one, I’ll kill them all."
Yu Zhiling showed no emotion. She severed his wrist and curled her lips into a cold smile. "If I can kill you once, I can kill you a thousand times over."
A blinding red light erupted as the array activated—a soul-rending formation Yu Zhiling had spent decades perfecting. The violent winds within would shred a soul into fragments, and You Zhou’s spirit shattered.
"Yu Zhiling, just you wait… just you wait…"
From beginning to end, Yu Zhiling stood outside the array, unmoved. Blood streamed from her wounds, her green robes in tatters. When the array collapsed and the red light faded, she collapsed to her knees.
Her breathing was ragged and labored. Yu Zhiling clenched her fist, watching as drops of blood splattered onto the muddy ground. Zhu Qing trembled and wailed—a sword and its master shared life and death, and now both were on the brink of collapse. The sword spirit itself shuddered.
The jade token at her waist flickered weakly, its light intermittent. Yu Zhiling stared at it.
The token dimmed, then lit up again after a while, as if the connection was too distant, barely holding on.
She knew who was calling.
Lifting her head, she gazed into the endless darkness. The Demon Abyss had no light—only the swirling ghost fires around her. It was like the eighteenth layer of hell from mortal legends, filled with demons who craved flesh and bone.
The jade token pulsed again and again.
She never answered.
Amid the ghostly fires, countless pairs of crimson eyes emerged, dense and unending. The shrieks of demonic wraiths filled the air. Staggering to her feet, Yu Zhiling picked up Zhu Qing, its blade now cracked.
She raised the sword, its aura resolute.
"Senior brothers… senior sisters… I can’t go back…"
She couldn’t answer that call.
Tens of thousands of demonic wraiths surged toward her, having waited for this moment after her month-long battle with You Zhou. They tore at her flesh, clawed at her face, neck, arms, and back—her blood nearly drained.
A swordsman could die fighting, but never waiting for death.
She knew there was no hope left. But before death claimed her, she would fight until her last breath, until she had no choice but to accept her fate.
Yu Zhiling lay on the ground, her body riddled with gaping wounds, blood pooling beneath her. Her vision blurred. Zhuo Yu, the revered Immortal of Purity, had entered the path of cultivation at three years old. Her journey had been smooth, her dao unshaken, her name feared across the Central Continent.
This was the first time she had tasted the brink of death.
No fear. No terror. Only…
Cold. And reluctance.
She thought the demons would tear her apart. At this point, the pain had numbed her—perhaps a swift death would be a mercy.
But the crimson eyes didn’t descend upon her. Instead, crisp footsteps echoed in her ears. Someone approached.
Then, they knelt beside her.
Yu Zhiling couldn’t even open her eyes. It didn’t matter who it was—whether they meant to save her or kill her, friend or foe. She was already dying.
In her daze, she felt a touch on her forehead. And then—agony beyond comprehension.
Her soul was being ripped out. Her intact spirit was torn apart, strand by strand, as if a thousand blades were spinning in her consciousness, shredding her mind. She had no strength left, not even to scream.
After an eternity of torment, she finally gasped out, "Senior brothers… senior sisters…"
Someone laughed.
As darkness swallowed her, she heard them speak.
"Now, they’re my senior brothers and sisters."
Yu Zhiling opened her eyes.
It had all been a dream.
Mo Zhu called to her, "Master, what’s wrong?"
Yu Zhiling’s forehead was drenched in sweat, her mind still reeling. Mo Zhu touched her cheek, leaning close until their foreheads met.
"No matter what you dreamed, Master, it’s over now."
Yu Zhiling closed her eyes, covering them with a trembling hand. That voice still echoed in her mind:
—Now, they’re my senior brothers and sisters.
Her lips quivered. "I know how she replaced me," she whispered hoarsely.
Mo Zhu straightened slightly, watching her expectantly.
Yu Zhiling said, "It wasn’t possession, Mo Zhu. It wasn’t."
Mo Zhu brushed a stray lock of hair from her temple. "Then what was it?"
Yu Zhiling lowered the hand covering her eyes and met Mo Zhu's gaze. She recalled the searing pain when a fragment of her soul had been torn away—she remembered clearly that only a single wisp of her soul had been extracted.
Humans possess seven souls and six spirits. For a possession to occur, all original souls must be forcibly expelled, leaving an empty vessel to be seized. Such dark arts could be detected through soul-searching techniques, and the Central Continent's Soul-Revealing Mirror was a sacred artifact designed to expose the forbidden possession rituals of the demonic clans.
Yet only a single wisp of her soul had been taken.
"I suspect… You Zhou possesses a forbidden technique," she murmured. "One that allows them to extract just a single strand of a person's soul and use it to transform another into the master of that strand—stealing memories in the process. Among the seven souls and six spirits… is there one that stores memories?"
Mo Zhu's hand, braced beside her cheek, clenched silently. His breathing grew heavy.
"...There is."
