Mo Zhu opened his eyes to the faint light of dawn. The deafening roar of heavenly tribulation echoed in his ears, and he could feel his spiritual power surging violently within him. The truth he had long suspected was now undeniable—the recurring dreams, his unprecedented cultivation speed, all pointed to one conclusion.
Rebirth.
Unbeknownst to himself, he had already walked this path once before. The tribulations meant for his past self had already been endured, and his formidable soul now propelled his current cultivation to soaring heights. As his power grew, the sealed memories of his past life gradually returned. The fragments of recollection that even Wu Hui had failed to uncover revealed the fate he and her had met in their previous lives.
No—perhaps only his own ending remained unclear.
As for Yu Zhiling’s fate…
Mo Zhu closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. No matter how much he wished to deny it, the truth was undeniable.
She had truly died. From the moment he learned the truth at seventeen, to the destruction of the Yingshan Sect at twenty-seven, an entire decade had passed—yet he had never recovered her remains. Had he even fulfilled Ning Hengwu’s final request before her death?
Had he truly brought Yu Zhiling’s body back?
His gaze fell to his wrist, where the red love-knot bracelet she had given him still rested. Yu Zhiling had worn an identical one, along with a coiled serpent bangle—the Huiqing Serpent Bracelet.
That bracelet had mysteriously appeared on her wrist the moment she emerged from seclusion. At first, she hadn’t even known what it was. Yet in the memories Mo Zhu had regained, she had clearly buried the Huiqing Serpent Bracelet within the Eternal Autumn Lotus before her departure—only for his seventeen-year-old self to later stumble upon it.
If she hadn’t taken the bracelet with her, how had it ended up on her wrist again? How had it recognized her as its master? And most baffling of all—how had she appeared inside that secluded cave on Listening Spring Cliff after vanishing into the Demon Abyss?
The distant thunder rumbled like the wrath of the heavens. With a quiet sigh, Mo Zhu straightened his robes and rose to face his tribulation.
Yu Zhiling was also jolted awake by the thunder. At first, she thought it was merely a storm, but a glance outside confirmed the skies were clear. Still groggy, her mind struggled to process the noise—until the next deafening crash of lightning snapped her fully awake.
She threw off the covers, hastily pulling on her outer robe and shoes, but it was already too late. The tribulation lightning had begun its descent upon the mountain.
The thick clouds reflected in her widened eyes as violet lightning snaked across the sky. A gale howled through the peaks, shaking the trees violently. The sheer power of this tribulation was enough to rouse the entire Yingshan Sect from slumber. Disciples stumbled out of their quarters, craning their necks toward the commotion.
"That’s coming from Listening Spring Cliff—is Immortal Lord Zhuoyu undergoing tribulation?"
"But if it were the Immortal Lord, this should be a mid or peak-stage Transcendence Tribulation. This seems more like… a Divine Transformation Tribulation?"
"Wait—Mo Zhu?!"
It made no sense. The entire sect knew Mo Zhu had only recently undergone tribulation.
He had returned just two months ago as a Golden Core cultivator. How could his cultivation progress at such an impossible speed?
Ning Hengwu emerged from her courtyard, her brow furrowed as she observed the distant storm.
Across the way, Chan Luo appeared beside her, voice low. "Something is wrong. No cultivator advances this quickly."
Mei Qiongge, fastening her robes, nearly collided with Xiang Wuxue, who had come at dawn to chop firewood. Their expressions were equally grim.
"Even Little Five, with her unparalleled talent, never progressed this swiftly," Xiang Wuxue muttered. "Mo Zhu has remarkable comprehension, but he was never her equal. This defies all reason."
Mei Qiongge nodded. "We would rejoice if Little Five’s guidance had borne such fruit, but this… it reeks of something unnatural. Could he have resorted to forbidden arts?"
Xiang Wuxue shook his head firmly. "Impossible. Second Sister examined him herself. Had he dabbled in demonic cultivation, her medical skills would have detected it. And Little Five would have noticed."
Yu Zhiling had entertained the same dark thought. Watching the tribulation lightning split the sky, her first instinct was to wonder—had Mo Zhu turned to forbidden methods?
But she dismissed it immediately.
Mo Zhu might be cold and aloof, but his moral compass was unwavering. He was a righteous cultivator to his core, the type who would sooner die than stoop to such disgrace. He would never debase himself with methods scorned by the orthodox path.
Yet his current advancement was so unnaturally rapid it chilled the blood.
Yu Zhiling returned to her courtyard and sat down, waiting quietly for Mo Zhu to return. Tribulations typically consisted of nine strikes—but this time, the ninth bolt was not the last.
Just like during his Nascent Soul tribulation, where he had leapt from peak Golden Core straight to peak Nascent Soul in a single trial, this time he vaulted from mid-stage Divine Transformation to mid-stage Mahayana.
Three tribulations in two months. If word spread, lesser cultivators might die of envy.
By the time the lightning finally ceased, Yu Zhiling’s tea had long gone cold. A wry thought crossed her mind—what a nuisance, holding tribulations at the crack of dawn.
[Ding. Male lead has reached mid-stage Mahayana. Host’s virtue points +300. Current virtue points: 4450. Keep up the good work.]
The daylight was bright when Mo Zhu returned, clad in tattered robes. Instead of heading to his own courtyard, he went straight to the neighboring one—Yu Zhiling’s small residence. She lifted her gaze slightly as he approached.
Mo Zhu pressed his thin lips together but still stepped forward, bending down to adjust the loosely draped outer garment around her shoulders.
"Are you cold?"
Yu Zhiling arched a brow. "Yes."
It was clearly a joke, but Mo Zhu still retrieved a cloak from his qiankun bag and fastened it around her, meticulously securing it until the fluffy collar encircled her neck, leaving only her delicate face exposed.
He chuckled softly, murmuring, "So beautiful. Can I kiss you?"
Yu Zhiling slapped a hand over his mouth. "No. I haven’t washed up yet."
Mo Zhu swept her up into his arms, ignoring her startled gasp as he declared, "Then we’ll do it together."
After washing up in the bathing chamber, he cupped Yu Zhiling’s face and kissed her, lifting her by the waist to set her on the table before parting her lips and plunging in with reckless urgency.
It was rough, but Yu Zhiling didn’t resist, looping her arms around his neck.
She hadn’t properly donned her outer robe, leaving it loosely draped over her shoulders. She felt Mo Zhu’s hand slip beneath the hem of her inner garment, his calloused palm pressing directly against her skin, the friction sending a tingling sensation through her. She shivered slightly.
Yu Zhiling knew he was aroused but didn’t stop him—her silence was tacit permission. Yet she sensed something off about his mood. His kisses were almost punishing, teeth tugging at her tongue until her lips and mouth grew numb from the relentless assault.
His large, well-defined hands slid up her back, skimming over the crisscrossed ties of her undergarment. He didn’t undo them, nor did he venture further. Instead, he pressed against her shoulder blades, pulling her closer into his embrace.
Yu Zhiling was nearly breathless by the time she turned her face away, breaking the kiss. Mo Zhu had already discarded his ruined outer robe and inner garment, leaving his upper body bare. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder as she felt his lips trail down her neck and graze her ear.
Between gasps, she asked, "What’s wrong? You seem… unsettled."
Mo Zhu didn’t answer, silently continuing to nip and suck at her neck. When she hissed at the sharp bite, his mouth drifted lower, kissing her collarbone before tugging at the loose collar of her robe to go further—
Yu Zhiling stopped him.
She clutched the slipping fabric of her robe and whispered, "Mo Zhu, no."
He snapped out of it instantly, turning his face away, voice hoarse. "Sorry. I crossed a line."
His hand withdrew from her clothes at once, and he straightened up to adjust her collar for her.
Yu Zhiling lowered her head to fasten the buttons herself, not responding.
Truthfully, she wasn’t much older than him. In her previous world, she had only been in her early twenties. Though the body of Immortal Lord Zhuoyu was over a hundred and eighty years old, and she might very well be Zhuoyu herself, Yu Zhiling still identified more with her past self.
She felt more like Mo Zhu’s elder sister than his master.
Mo Zhu rested his chin against her neck, breathing in her scent as he steadied himself. Yu Zhiling didn’t move.
After a long pause, she heard him murmur by her ear, "You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you? My cultivation… it’s abnormal."
Yu Zhiling nodded. "Mm."
Mo Zhu stroked the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. "Master… do you believe in reincarnation?"
This time, Yu Zhiling didn’t dismiss it as madness like before. She simply stayed silent.
Mo Zhu continued, "I don’t want to hide anything from you. Lately, as my cultivation advances, I keep seeing memories that don’t belong to this life—the annihilation of the Yingshan Sect, my pursuit into the Spirit Abyss, years of hunting… There are many more fragments like this. And… my progress is too fast."
Yu Zhiling finally spoke. "As if you’ve already cultivated this path before."
Mo Zhu’s throat bobbed as he lifted his head from the crook of her neck, voice low. "Yes. Exactly."
Yu Zhiling reached up, tracing the corner of his eye as she whispered, "I believe you, Mo Zhu."
Her own experiences were even more unbelievable than reincarnation.
If she told him that worlds existed beyond this one—that she had grown up in another realm before crossing into this one—he might not believe her either.
"Mo Zhu, I believe all of it."
That so-called "book" might have been recording the fate of everyone in their past lives.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder.
When she first read the original ending, she had thought it was poorly concluded, unable to understand why Mo Zhu had willingly descended into the demonic abyss, abandoning his immortal path.
But now she saw it—losing his parents at five, learning at seventeen that the master who once saved him had died in obscurity, then chasing vengeance. At twenty-seven, the Yingshan Sect was annihilated, and he pursued the culprits into the Spirit Abyss. This time, the weight of his hatred was even greater. By thirty-seven, he had slaughtered every last enemy.
For over thirty years, he had been losing everything along the way. Life was but a fleeting dream, and looking back across the miles, all that remained was a hall of snow-white robes.
How could he possibly go on living?
"Yun Zhi."
Yun Zhi turned to see Wu Zhaoyan hastily disembarking from a miniature boat.
"Zhaoyan, you're here."
Wu Zhaoyan frowned deeply as he approached. "Why did you summon me to the Immortal Alliance so suddenly?"
Yun Zhi's expression was grave. "I suspect something has happened there. Someone may have broken in."
The Immortal Alliance stood isolated for miles, its distant palace grand and imposing. Thirteen towering pillars rose from the earth, and the plaque bearing the words "Central Immortal Alliance" was inscribed with bold strokes. Outside the palace lay an expanse of open grassland—seemingly out of place, yet a single misstep would trigger all the lethal arrays surrounding the alliance.
Wu Zhaoyan knew well how impossible it was to infiltrate the Immortal Alliance. Even with their combined strength, he and Yun Zhi might not succeed.
"Are you certain?"
"Most likely."
Wu Zhaoyan took out his jade token and attempted to contact the alliance, but no one answered. Not a single one of the thirteen elders responded.
Yun Zhi asked, "Do you remember what Sect Leader Yan said a few days ago about the great war six hundred years ago? The Immortal Alliance promised an explanation within five days. And now?"
Wu Zhaoyan replied, "It's been eight."
With no response from the tokens and no explanation delivered, Wu Zhaoyan understood why Yun Zhi had called for him.
Gazing at the grassland before the palace, he said solemnly, "We can't break through alone. Perhaps if she were here, it might be possible."
"She can't come. The moment she steps beyond Yingshan Sect's borders, she'll be noticed." Yun Zhi drew his sword and motioned for the nearby disciples to retreat. Once they were gone, he said, "The two of us will have to do. We must at least try."
With a sweeping slash, Yun Zhi's blade ignited all the lethal arrays. Golden talismans emerged from the ground, their shifting patterns unleashing violent gusts of deadly energy.
Wu Zhaoyan grabbed Yun Zhi's arm. "This is too reckless! There are hundreds of arrays inside—we won't escape unscathed!"
Yun Zhi glanced back at him. "Zhaoyan, let's gamble on this."
Wu Zhaoyan scoffed. "You've always been steady. Since when did you start acting like Yu Zhiling in her childhood, betting on everything?"
The corner of Yun Zhi's lips twitched. "That's why my mother always told me to learn only the good from her and ignore the rest."
Though his words were light, his eyes were full of mirth.
Wu Zhaoyan unsheathed his blade, its edge gleaming like moonlight. Calmly, he said, "I'll break the ones on the left. You take the right."
"Mm."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the two figures charged into the arrays, instantly engulfed by countless gusts of lethal energy.
Shu Feng panicked. "Master!"
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" The Wu family disciples quickly held him back.
Shu Feng pointed at the white figure darting through the arrays. "My master is still injured!"
A Wu disciple retorted, "So is our family head. If you rush in now, you won't break a single array—you'll only distract them."
The logic was sound, leaving Shu Feng speechless. He could only stand and watch helplessly.
The Immortal Alliance's defensive arrays were no trifling matter. Guarding the central realm's highest secrets, the arrays outside were powerful enough to annihilate a small sect. Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan moved so swiftly that only their black and white silhouettes were visible.
Array after array shattered, but the two within were visibly weakening, struggling to keep up. Yun Zhi, clad in white, bore every wound clearly.
"Master!"
Seeing a deadly gust aimed straight for Yun Zhi's back, Shu Feng could no longer restrain himself. Shaking off the Wu disciples, he lunged forward, ready to shield his master with his own body.
"Go back!"
"Step away!"
Two voices rang out simultaneously—one frantic (Yun Zhi's), the other calm yet commanding as the speaker seized Shu Feng and tossed him back to the Wu disciples.
Before anyone could react, a flash of swordlight—swifter than the killing gusts—shattered the attack.
A figure in green plunged into the arrays, seizing Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan by their collars and ruthlessly hurling them out of the danger zone.
Stunned, the two barely had time to register what had happened before recognizing the person now standing amid the arrays. Their faces paled.
"Little Five!"
The relentless gusts of energy struck at Yu Zhiling but halted inches away, blocked by an invisible barrier. The pressure around her surged, her sleeves and robes fluttering wildly. Her sword, Zhuqing, hovered midair, trembling with excitement at the arrays' murderous intent.
Yu Zhiling formed a seal with her hands.
Zhuqing split into two, then four, then eight—until, in the blink of an eye, the sky was filled with its reflections.
At the perfect moment, she channeled her spiritual power.
"Thousand Array Ring—shatter!"
Ten thousand swords shot forth like arrows, swiftly piercing through the dense gusts of wind—each strike aimed at the heart of the killing arrays.
A crushing pressure erupted, forcing Wu Zhaoyan and Yun Zhi to shield their disciples. Just as they reached out to pull Mo Zhu into the protective barrier, they found he was already gone.
Mo Zhu charged into the killing array, his spiritual energy forming a shield that enveloped Yu Zhiling completely. The violent shockwaves from the shattered arrays collided with the barrier and dissipated instantly.
Standing safely within his protection, Yu Zhiling arched a brow. "I wouldn’t have been hurt anyway."
"The cold from the array’s pressure would have chilled you, Master. This is the least I can do."
Yu Zhiling scratched his chin playfully. "So thoughtful. I’ll reward you with a kiss when we get back."
Mo Zhu lowered his head, making it easier for her to reach. "Any time limit?"
"None."
"Then I’ll take a whole night’s worth."
Yu Zhiling covered his mouth. "Get lost."
She always loved teasing him, yet somehow, she always ended up the flustered one. After all, a master was no match for a disciple who had learned to be shameless.
As the pressure faded, Mo Zhu straightened and withdrew the barrier. Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan exchanged complicated glances.
Yun Zhi spoke first. "You underwent another lightning tribulation?"
Mo Zhu nodded. "Yes."
Neither Yun Zhi nor Wu Zhaoyan were fools—they sensed something amiss. But seeing Yu Zhiling’s calm expression, they swallowed their suspicions, unwilling to stir trouble between the pair.
Wu Zhaoyan turned to Yu Zhiling. "Did you know we were coming?"
She pointed at the Immortal Alliance’s gates. "I didn’t. I was here on business when I spotted you two. Do you have any idea how reckless this was? If I hadn’t arrived in time, you’d both be riddled with holes! And you’re still injured—how could you be so careless?"
Her tone was sharp, but the worry beneath was unmistakable. Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan softened at her words.
Yu Zhiling wasn’t done scolding them, berating the two with furious exasperation.
Finally, Yun Zhi raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, Little Five, I won’t do it again."
He nudged Wu Zhaoyan with a glance, but the proud man only snorted and turned away.
Yun Zhi sighed inwardly. With a temper like that, no wonder Mo Zhu had overtaken him in Yu Zhiling’s affections.
Mo Zhu remained silent while his master spoke, standing quietly by her side—content just to be near her.
Once Yu Zhiling had vented, she turned serious. "There’s something I need to tell you."
She shared her suspicions about the Immortal Alliance, and Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan’s expressions darkened.
"You’re certain there’s a traitor?"
"Very likely. Even if soul-searching techniques can be evaded, the reason my memories were intact was because she stole a fragment of my soul. But the Mirror of Revealing Souls can’t be fooled—it exposes the true form of a spirit. That artifact can only be used once a century, and it’s kept within the Immortal Alliance. If I weren’t Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, they’d never have let me near it."
Wu Zhaoyan’s voice was icy. "Back then, when your senior siblings came to borrow the mirror, Jing Wei handed it over without hesitation. The mirror showed nothing—meaning it was a fake. And the only ones who could’ve swapped it…"
Were from the Immortal Alliance itself.
In the distance, the Immortal Alliance stood deathly silent, no sound but the wind passing through.
Yu Zhiling tightened her grip on Mo Zhu’s wrist, pulling him along as she always did. "We’ll know for sure once we go inside."
Yun Zhi glanced at Wu Zhaoyan, but the man’s face betrayed no sorrow. He had made peace with it—even if it still ached, he wouldn’t show it.
At this point, the outcome was clear. Yu Zhiling loved Mo Zhu, and he loved her. Two hearts entwined were hard to separate—they would likely walk side by side for the rest of their lives.
With a quiet sigh, Yun Zhi patted Wu Zhaoyan’s shoulder and followed after them.
Wu Zhaoyan lowered his gaze. A disciple hesitantly spoke. "Family Head?"
"...Let’s go."
He lifted his head, his expression unreadable—once more the composed leader of the Wu Clan, one of the Immortal Alliance’s three great immortals.
Meanwhile, Yu Zhiling pushed open the heavy palace doors.
The hinges groaned as light spilled onto the white jade floor, illuminating vivid streaks of red.
The stench of blood struck them like a wave.
As the doors swung wide, a bloodied hand seized Yu Zhiling’s ankle. She looked down into a familiar face—one that had lost the stubborn defiance she remembered from months ago. His eyes, once sharp, were now clouded with age. He lay on the ground, barely breathing, a gaping wound in his neck gushing blood.
Yu Zhiling reacted instantly, dropping to her knees to staunch the bleeding. She forced a revival pill between his lips.
Mo Zhu stood beside her, his gaze lowered indifferently as he surveyed the wreckage and tragedy within the hall—blood everywhere, a scene eerily reminiscent of…
The massacre of the Yingshan Sect.
Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan’s expressions darkened as they swiftly dispersed, moving to check on the figures sprawled across the ground.
After swallowing a rejuvenation pill, Jing Wei regained the ability to speak, albeit briefly.
He seized Yu Zhiling’s wrist, his blood staining her sleeve, and stammered, “Don’t… don’t worry about me… Go… to the back hall… O-open…”
His trembling hand reached toward his waist, delving into the bloody cavity in his abdomen to retrieve a gore-smeared golden key. With shaking fingers, he pressed it into Yu Zhiling’s palm.
Yu Zhiling accepted it without a flicker of emotion. She never would have imagined that Jing Wei had hidden the key inside his wound—anticipating that the killer would search his person but not probe his injuries one by one.
“Immortal Lord Zhuoyu… I leave it to you…”
His voice cut off abruptly.
In Yu Zhiling’s hand lay the bloodied key, the secret Jing Wei had guarded with his life. Strangely, the sight of it…
Made her heart pound violently.
As if this place could unveil countless truths to her.
