An hour earlier.
Just as Yin Xuan had fallen asleep in front of the thatched cottage, a thunderous explosion erupted from the distant end of the vast starry sky. Li Zhuohua cleaved through the illusion with her sword and emerged outside the Hall of Inheritance.
The woman’s sword hand was twisted unnaturally, and upon closer inspection, her entire body bore wounds.
Crimson blood stained her red robes even brighter, making her look like a blazing fire from afar.
Li Zhuohua pulled out Xie Ziyin’s medicinal pouch—standard issue for everyone—and poured half the bag of spirit pills into her mouth. Then, without flinching, she realigned the bones broken by the demons in the illusion while tilting her head to study the plaque outside the hall.
After deciphering the hastily scrawled characters for "Li Hanshan," she nodded in satisfaction.
Yes, this was the place!
Li Zhuohua leaped onto the steps, kicked open the stone door, and flew inside, soaring straight into the mountain range.
Standing at the foot of the mountain, she gazed at the undulating peaks in the distance.
Without hesitation, Li Zhuohua immediately summoned her sword and soared toward the highest point. But the moment she took off, her brows furrowed as she sensed something amiss. With a swift 360-degree spin midair, she dodged a sword intent that came slicing from behind.
The sword intent carried a faint chill, laced with a heavy undercurrent of killing intent—strangely reminiscent of the Li Hanshan sword style?
Not to be underestimated.
She had assumed the trials ended outside the hall, but it seemed their ancestors had left one last ambush at the doorstep?
Excitement flickered in Li Zhuohua’s eyes as she tapped her toes lightly, landing on a treetop. Gripping her sword, Liu Hong, she turned toward the source of the attack.
The sword intent had come from outside the Hall of Inheritance, from the depths of a long, pitch-black passageway.
Throughout her journey here, Li Zhuohua had operated on one principle: I don’t care what you are—I’ll slash you to nothing.
Thus, every meticulously designed sword formation and illusion left by Li Hanshan had been thoroughly obliterated by her.
Since all disciples entering the tower—except for Shen Hefeng—had their own inheritances to claim, Li Zhuohua never expected someone to follow in her footsteps all the way here.
Even less did she anticipate that the intruder would be none other than Di Yanran—someone who, by all logic, shouldn’t have appeared in the main tower.
Or rather—
Li Zhuohua frowned, pointing her sword at the approaching figure. "Yu Xiaoxiao?"
The woman wore a black gauze dress, her features bold and striking—the type meant to exude mature allure.
Yet now, her expression carried a girlish coyness.
Hearing her name, the woman paused in surprise. "You know?"
"Nothing escapes my junior sister’s eyes!" Li Zhuohua had no idea why Yu Xiaoxiao was inside the Sacred Tower, but remembering that this scene would be visible to the outside world, she deliberately baited her. "So it really is you! Did you kill Di Yanran?"
Yu Xiaoxiao lowered her gaze, offering a bitter smile as she shook her head gently. "Senior Sister Zhuohua, you’re mistaken. It wasn’t me who wanted to harm Yanran-jiejie—it was she who tried to kill me!"
Li Zhuohua wasn’t buying it. "Yet here you are, living in Di Yanran’s body."
"I didn’t want this," Yu Xiaoxiao whispered, tightening her grip on her sword. "I never wanted this..."
No one would choose to live as a parasite in another’s body!
She despised this vessel, loathed every inch of it.
Yu Xiaoxiao didn’t understand. She wasn’t the one who had schemed to harm others, yet Senior Sister Zhuohua, Di-gege’s closest aides—though they dared not say it outright—all looked at her as if she were the villain.
Why did the world misunderstand her so? Why!
As Li Zhuohua studied Yu Xiaoxiao, a sense of unease settled in.
Had Yu Xiaoxiao come alone? How had she even gotten here? Surely she wasn’t foolish enough to forget about the Mystic Heaven Mirror’s surveillance...
...Had the Mystic Heaven Mirror been deactivated?
That was entirely possible!
Realizing this, Li Zhuohua quickly pulled out one of Wen Shuangbai’s recording orbs—standard issue for everyone—and discreetly activated it. Playing along, she said, "Then explain it properly. How else am I supposed to know the truth?"
Yu Xiaoxiao bit her lip lightly. "Back then, Di-gege invited me to explore the Long River Secret Realm together. When we were attacked by demonic beasts, Yanran-jiejie and I got separated from him. I followed her to search for Di-gege, but we accidentally encountered the Long River Ghost Demon... and Yanran-jiejie... she abandoned me and ran!"
"My body was torn apart..." The memory still haunted her. A faint mist glistened in her eyes as her voice dropped to a fragile whisper. "If not for... the rare treasure Father left within my spiritual consciousness... I would have been... utterly annihilated."
Later, Di-gege arrived in time and found her scattered spirit.
To avenge her, he slew the Long River Ghost Demon and struck Yanran-jiejie with a single palm strike.
All Yanran-jiejie had to do was apologize, and she would have lived. But she refused—even cursed Di-gege, calling him a cold-blooded monster, saying she regretted being born a Di... So Di-gege crushed her spirit with his bare hands.
Afterward, he insisted that Yanran-jiejie’s body was the perfect vessel. Yu Xiaoxiao had resisted, pleaded—but Di-gege wouldn’t listen. He forced her spirit into this unwanted shell.
These details, Yu Xiaoxiao kept to herself.
In the end, Yanran-jiejie’s death had nothing to do with her. She was the victim here!
Li Zhuohua listened intently, her frown deepening with every word.
Huh? Huh?? HUH???
"So let me get this straight—you both encountered the Long River Ghost Demon. Di Yanran was stronger, so she escaped. You didn’t. And that counts as her trying to kill you?" Li Zhuohua’s confusion was palpable.
"She could have saved me!" Yu Xiaoxiao argued fiercely. "Besides, she was the one leading the way—she deliberately took me there..."
Li Zhuohua was genuinely trying to dissect the logic. "Then why didn’t you find your own path? Did Di Yanran hold a sword to your neck and force you to follow her?"
Yu Xiaoxiao’s face paled.
She couldn’t admit that Di Yanran had always disliked her, had been cold throughout their journey, even told her to stay away.
"I..."
Li Zhuohua, now fully immersed in her analysis—her usual relentless pursuit of absolute clarity—declared matter-of-factly, "And it’s not like she led you astray. She did find Di Qi. It’s just that he happened to be near the Long River Ghost Demon’s territory—"
"Enough!" Yu Xiaoxiao snapped. Her eyes burned with resentment as she glared at Li Zhuohua. "I told you, Yanran-jiejie’s death has nothing to do with me! You—just like your mother—hate me, hate my mother, and now you’re trying to frame me!"
Li Zhuohua’s temper flared. "We were having a civil discussion. Why bring my mother into this?"
"Because your mother is the real murderer! She killed my father and mother! Your family are the killers!" Yu Xiaoxiao pointed her sword at Li Zhuohua, her voice trembling with fury. "I came here today to avenge my mother and reclaim everything that’s rightfully mine!"
Li Zhuohua’s face twisted in frustration, a sense of futility washing over her like punching cotton. "You don’t actually believe that nonsense your master Dugu Hong fed you, do you?"
"What my master said is the truth!" Yu Xiaoxiao’s tears fell one by one from the corners of her eyes. "I know everything now. My master told me. My father was the former Sect Leader of Qingling Mountain, Li Yi! Your mother schemed to lure my mother into danger in the Demon Abyss. When my father and master rushed there to save her, they couldn’t bring her back—instead, one died and the other was left crippled. That’s how your mother seized the position of Sect Leader!"
If her father hadn’t died, she would have been the Sect Leader’s daughter!
Everything Li Zhuohua had now should have been hers. She should have been the revered senior swordswoman of Qingling Mountain, representing the sect in the Mystic Heaven Tournament, bringing glory to their name—not hiding in someone else’s body, living a wretched existence!
Li Zhuohua: "…………"
Li Zhuohua didn’t want to speak.
She had known about this since she was a child.
Back then, she couldn’t understand why, despite both being sword cultivators, she had to train relentlessly every day, barely scraping by with few spirit stones, living frugally even as the Sect Leader’s daughter. Meanwhile, Yu Xiaoxiao always had rare treasures, wore beautiful clothes, and never worried about spirit stones.
During New Year’s, her mother would even give Yu Xiaoxiao generous gifts of money—but never her!
The young Li Zhuohua was furious. She once pointed her sword at Sect Leader Li and shouted, "Li Peng, whose mother are you, really?!"
That day, her mother finally told her the truth—that Yu Xiaoxiao was the daughter of her eldest martial brother. Before he died, her mother had promised to take care of Yu Xiaoxiao.
She even told Li Zhuohua to yield to Yu Xiaoxiao.
But Li Zhuohua refused. At most, she could ignore her.
As she grew older, Li Zhuohua learned more about the grudges and tangled relationships of her mother’s generation.
Her mother’s sect had three disciples: the eldest martial brother, Li Yi; her mother, Li Peng, second in seniority; and a junior brother taken in later, Dugu Hong.
It was said that their grandmaster had intended for Li Peng to marry Li Yi.
In her youth, Li Peng had indeed loved Li Yi, and Li Yi, having no one else in his heart, had been willing to marry her.
But then Yu Xiaoxiao’s mother appeared, and Li Yi fell for her at first sight.
Heartbroken, Li Peng left the mountain to train alone. During her travels, she briefly stayed with a swordsman who suffered from an old ailment—and from that union, Li Zhuohua was conceived.
Her father, however, was short-lived. He died before she was even born.
After his death, Sect Leader Li returned to Qingling Mountain with the newborn Li Zhuohua.
Filled with guilt, Li Yi often visited to care for Li Peng and hold the baby.
Yu Xiaoxiao’s mother grew jealous, even suspecting that Li Zhuohua was Li Yi’s daughter. In a fit of anger, she left Qingling Mountain alone.
Li Yi was frantic, searching everywhere.
Li Peng, having traveled the world for years, had connections. At Li Yi’s request, she helped in the search.
Eight months later, Li Peng received word that someone had seen Yu Xiaoxiao’s mother in the Demon Abyss and passed the news to Li Yi.
Li Yi and Dugu Hong, both in love with the same woman, rushed there—only to discover that Yu Xiaoxiao’s mother had lost her memory soon after leaving the mountain and had been taken by the Demon Clan’s Grand Steward, becoming his new wife…
The Grand Steward loved her deeply, and even in death, he tried to drag her into the grave with him.
In the end, Li Yi couldn’t save her, but he risked his life to rescue the newborn baby girl.
Before dying, he passed the position of Sect Leader to his junior sister, Li Peng.
Though Li Yi was certain the child was his daughter, the sect vehemently opposed her as a descendant of demons. So, Yu Xiaoxiao’s true origins were concealed, and she was raised by Dugu Hong.
Li Zhuohua despised her junior uncle, Dugu Hong.
His cultivation had always been inferior to her mother’s, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. Instead, he clung to the belief that her mother had orchestrated the tragedy.
Did he never consider that if her mother were truly so ruthless, he and Yu Xiaoxiao would have been wiped out long ago?
Sect Leader Li could have easily eradicated them.
For the first time, Li Zhuohua felt at a loss for words. After a long pause, she finally spat out, "You and your master are both delusional. I won’t waste my breath on you! Did you come here today to fight me for the Hanshan legacy?"
"I’m only reclaiming what’s rightfully mine," Yu Xiaoxiao said. "I am the true descendant of the Li bloodline—the true heir of Hanshan!"
Li Zhuohua suddenly missed that foul-mouthed, mad junior brother of hers.
"...Fine. If words won’t reach you," she took a deep breath and raised her sword, "then let’s fight!"
"The truth is undeniable, Senior Sister Zhuohua. It’s not that you can’t convince me—you just don’t dare face it." Yu Xiaoxiao shook her head bitterly. "My master was right. This is how you’ve always been. You righteous sects, with your lofty pretenses—I’m sick of it! I’m sick of your hypocrisy! Fight it is, then. Li Zhuohua, I’ve never feared you—!"
A surge of killing intent erupted from Yu Xiaoxiao’s heart, her sword energy exploding outward in all directions, resonating with the mountain peaks around them.
With a single slash, her blade gleamed like frost, its power harmonizing with the distant mountains.
She had said it before.
She was the true heir of Hanshan. Her master had told her—her sword intent was the closest to that of their founder, Li Hanshan.
Li Zhuohua said nothing more.
The moment Liu Hong Sword left its sheath, she entered a state of pure battle focus.
She struck first, her blade cutting toward Yu Xiaoxiao!
In mere moments, red and black figures clashed, exchanging hundreds of blows with neither gaining the upper hand.
Yu Xiaoxiao had improved drastically, far surpassing her past self.
Here, her swordplay flowed effortlessly, perfectly attuned to the aura of the Hanshan legacy.
With each exchange, her confidence grew. Her strikes became faster—so fast they left afterimages as she danced across the mountain range.
This was Yu Xiaoxiao’s domain.
Any other swordsman might have faltered at the sight.
But not Li Zhuohua.
Di Yanran? The grudges of the past? Who loved whom, who was betrayed? None of it mattered now.
She even forgot why she had come here—to inherit Hanshan’s legacy.
In this moment, her eyes saw only her opponent.
Defeat her. That was Li Zhuohua’s sole thought.
Her sword intent was nothing like Hanshan’s.
Hanshan’s was cold and unyielding, as immovable as the mountains.
She had sensed it once in Star Moon Valley, but she never sought to become the next Li Hanshan. Instead, she had drawn inspiration from it, forging her own path.
Li Zhuohua's path burned with a fierce intensity, a blazing determination that would rather consume itself than fail to reduce you to ashes!
With a clang, Yu Xiaoxiao instinctively dodged half a sword strike, unwilling to perish alongside Li Zhuohua. Seizing the opening, Li Zhuohua swung her blade, sending Yu Xiaoxiao crashing into the mountainside.
Blood spilled from Yu Xiaoxiao’s lips as she slumped against the rocky cliff, her back pressed to the stone. She stared at the blood-drenched woman advancing toward her, fear coiling uncontrollably in her chest.
Her gaze darted toward the hall’s entrance, eyes pleading for rescue.
At that moment, the mountains trembled, their force repelling Li Zhuohua.
A profound, ancient sword intent descended from the peaks, resonating deep within Yu Xiaoxiao’s spiritual consciousness.
Stunned, then elated, Yu Xiaoxiao lifted her head in triumph.
She knew it!
She knew Li Hanshan would choose her—she was the true descendant of the Li bloodline.
Yet in the next breath, the sword intent surged into her mind, locking onto her spirit and ruthlessly expelling her from Di Yanran’s body, driving her out of the ancestral cave.
With a resounding boom, the gates slammed shut.
And Li Zhuohua, carried upon a drifting cloud, ascended to the summit of the mountains.
