After Yu Xiaoxiao's spiritual consciousness was forcibly expelled, the long-deceased body of Di Yanran also turned to smoke, dissipating among the mountain peaks.
Li Zhuohua clasped her fists and gave a brief salute to the empty air before leaping down from the clouds, striding forward with purpose.
The space above was eerily empty, save for a simple stone tablet at its center, inscribed with three large characters: "Li Hanshan."
Li Zhuohua circled the ancient, unadorned tablet, tapping and testing it, but no trace of Li Hanshan's inherited consciousness was triggered.
Finally, she made an empathetic guess.
Her ancestor probably hadn’t left anything behind at all! The old man likely couldn’t be bothered to waste words on his descendants.
And why would he?
As a sword cultivator, actions spoke louder than words—draw your blade, and the victor reigns supreme!
Without hesitation, Li Zhuohua turned and, with irreverent boldness, swung her sword directly at the characters "Li Hanshan."
A thunderous boom erupted as streaks of icy sword intent burst forth from the unremarkable tablet like lightning.
Amidst the dense barrage of sword energy, a faint golden light flickered within the stone—this was…
"The Sword Saint’s essence?!" Li Zhuohua exclaimed in shock.
This was even more valuable than mere sword intent!
Li Hanshan, one of the Seven Saints, had long since reached the Saint Realm.
Li Zhuohua, however, had been stuck at the peak of the Tribulation Crossing Realm, unable to break through into the Great Vehicle Realm.
On the Xuantian Continent, the seven major cultivation realms placed Tribulation Crossing as the fourth, right in the middle.
Beyond it lay the Great Vehicle Realm (known as the Nascent Saint), the Sublime Perfection Realm (Half-Saint), and finally, the highest—the Saint Realm.
This wisp of Sword Saint’s essence could not only propel her into the Great Vehicle Realm but also guide her step by step toward the pinnacle of cultivation.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!
In her excitement, Li Zhuohua let her guard down, and a slash of her ancestor’s sword intent struck her right leg.
Flesh tore instantly, but fortunately, her sword-forged bones had long since reached perfection. Though riddled with small holes, she wouldn’t die.
It just hurt. A lot.
Besides, she sensed no killing intent from her ancestor—these sword strikes were more of a test, judging whether she was truly worthy of the precious Sword Saint’s essence.
Li Zhuohua didn’t hesitate. She focused entirely on the battle, clashing with her ancestor’s will in earnest.
Unbeknownst to her, outside the stone gate, Yu Xiaoxiao’s weakened spirit—nearly extinguished by the sword intent—was caught at the last moment by a black-robed figure who appeared out of nowhere.
The stranger gently placed Yu Xiaoxiao’s pure, luminous consciousness into his own sea of awareness to nurture it.
Before leaving, the black-robed man cast a cold glance toward the stone gate.
Inside his mind, Yu Xiaoxiao sobbed an apology. "I’m sorry… I failed to obtain the inheritance…"
The man lowered his head, his features hidden beneath his hood. He chuckled, his voice dark and hollow. "No matter. Even if she takes it, it’ll be in vain. Just a pity, that’s all."
—
Outside the Saint Tower, the Mystic Heaven Mirror remained broken, and cultivators were in an uproar. Many non-native cultivators in the Imperial Province even went to blockade the gates of the Violet Flame Sect.
The sect’s gatekeepers maintained polite smiles, repeatedly bowing. "Our apologies, we’re working on it, please be patient…"
Not far away, a breeze stirred.
Xu Jingshu, accompanied by Elder Cao, the Turtle Elder of Jade Rhinoceros Valley, and the old monk from the Divine Evolution Temple, infiltrated the Violet Flame Sect.
At this critical juncture of the Xuantian Grand Tournament, the sudden failure of the Mystic Heaven Mirror was beyond suspicious.
Xu Jingshu first sought answers from Di Xiuyuan, but the sect leader was unreachable—his disciples claimed he was in seclusion, recovering from old injuries.
Even stranger.
With additional secrets revealed by the old monk, the three major sects in the finals quickly reached an agreement.
The three centenarians, along with the comparatively weaker Cao Xing, slipped undetected into Di Xiuyuan’s private chambers.
Though each of the three elders was powerful enough to dominate a region, they wordlessly let the thirty-year-old Cao Xing take the lead.
Cao Xing: "……"
So this was why Xu Jingshu brought him along.
Under their encouraging gazes, Cao Xing stepped inside.
The chamber was pitch-black, windows and doors sealed, not a single candle lit.
In the dimness, the bed curtains swayed slightly, revealing a vague silhouette beneath.
Cao Xing approached cautiously, peering through the curtains.
Di Xiuyuan lay motionless on his side, back turned, devoid of breath—like a corpse.
But given the sect leader’s cultivation, it was normal for Cao Xing to sense nothing.
Since the elders gave no signal, he steeled himself and reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed Di Xiuyuan, the body rolled over, revealing a withered face.
Blood seeped from all seven orifices, his body drained—yet his lips were curled into a ghastly, frenzied grin.
Di Xiuyuan was… dead?!
Before Cao Xing could react, a hand shot out from under the bed, gripping his ankle and yanking him down.
As his life flashed before his eyes, a scroll sliced through the air, landing lightly yet decisively on the grasping hand.
Golden runes flared, and a pained cry came from beneath the bed.
Cao Xing scrambled back, crashing into the door—only to find it blocked by an impenetrable wall of tortoiseshell.
The Turtle Elder had acted.
Panting, Cao Xing turned to see the figure crawling out from under the bed.
He recognized him.
Dugu Hong—former elder of Qingling Mountain, Yu Xiaoxiao’s master, and the sect leader’s junior brother.
"It’s you?" Xu Jingshu materialized from the void, the scroll now back in her hand. She studied the disheveled man, brows knitting. "You’ve fallen to demonic cultivation?"
"Demonic?" Dugu Hong laughed wildly. "Righteous or demonic—it’s just a difference in technique. As for Dao hearts—"
He pointed accusingly at Xu Jingshu. "You lot, who schemed against your own sect, got my senior brother and his wife killed in the demonic abyss, leaving poor Xiaoxiao orphaned at birth—you’re the real demons!"
Xu Jingshu sighed. "Hopeless fool."
She wasted no more words. She had seen him crush a jade token the moment he emerged—likely summoning reinforcements.
Now, the picture was clear.
This was a setup. Di Xiuyuan’s death was meant to be pinned on Qingling Mountain.
This scene—she had lived for so many years and read so many storybooks—was truly familiar to her.
After confirming Di Xiuyuan's death, the top priority was to leave.
But this Dugu Hong could no longer be spared.
Xu Jingshu parted her lips and uttered a single word at Dugu Hong: "Die."
Dugu Hong shattered the curse energy with a single punch, sneering, "Just an old hag, and you think you can kill me?"
"I was just thinking you’d be cowering in Qingling Academy, too afraid to show your face." Dugu Hong snorted coldly. "Good. Since you’re here, you can go down and keep Di Xiuyuan company in the grave!"
Xu Jingshu took half a step back, evading Dugu Hong’s strike.
Her face showed no trace of fear. Instead, she narrowed her eyes with a serene smile before gently tossing a book into the air.
The pages of the book spread open, and as the curse runes flickered, they ensnared Dugu Hong within the hall!
Dugu Hong frowned and abruptly looked up.
One after another, the character for "die" leaped out from the scroll, multiplying until they formed an inescapable net around him!
The overwhelming killing intent actually made him feel fear.
Impossible. Xu Jingshu had actually mastered the Book of Curses? How? She was nothing but—
Back in the day, when he was the closed-door disciple of Qingling Mountain’s sect leader, renowned throughout the world, Xu Jingshu had been nothing more than an ordinary disciple, unworthy even of tying his shoes!
No, this couldn’t be!
Xu Jingshu stood to the side, watching, then softly remarked, "Dugu Hong, the sect leader’s strength was far above mine."
"Yet even after turning to demonic cultivation, you still can’t defeat me."
"You’re nowhere near the sect leader’s level."
"You always believed the sect leader usurped his position, but the truth is, you were never a match for your senior sister. You thought the sect leader only gave you an idle elder’s position, denying you the role of pavilion master out of suspicion and spite—but the truth is, you were simply inferior to the rest of us..."
"Shut up! Xu Jingshu, you bitch, shut your mouth!"
Dugu Hong roared in fury, his fists striking like swords against the net of curses—but...
He had no power to resist. The curse energy crushed him until he could no longer stand, forcing him first to his knees, then flat onto the ground. His meridians shattered inch by inch, blood pooling beneath him.
In the last few seconds before death,
Xu Jingshu walked over, her orchid-embroidered shoe pressing hard against his face as she leaned down and whispered, "The other pavilion masters and I have endured you for far too long. Did you really think you were strong? We only humored you out of respect for the sect leader."
After successfully infuriating Dugu Hong beyond recognition, Xu Jingshu promptly ended his life and began cleaning up the scene.
The old monk approached from Di Xiuyuan’s side, his voice grave. "Di Xiuyuan’s cultivation was completely drained by someone."
"Damn it." Xu Jingshu immediately realized the implications. "The Sacred Tower!"
...
The old masters of the Violet Flame Realm, having received Dugu Hong’s message, rushed over at once.
Before even entering the bedchamber, the Grand Elder ordered his chief disciple, "Quick, send word—Xu Jingshu of Qingling Mountain has conspired with the Divine Evolution Temple to infiltrate our Violet Flame Realm, murder Sect Leader Di, and cover up their tampering with the Sacred Tower’s formation! They altered the trials to ensure their disciples reached the finals! The incident with the Mystic Heaven Mirror was also their doing—"
Before he could finish, the Second Elder, who had entered the chamber intending to apprehend Xu Jingshu, called out, "Wait—there’s no one here!"
"No one?" the Grand Elder exclaimed. "How? Then where’s Dugu Hong?"
"Dugu Hong is also gone." The elders stared at the spotlessly clean chamber, identical to how it had been before, and fell into silence.
They hadn’t arrived slowly—yet they still failed to capture Xu Jingshu and the others.
This could only mean one thing: their opponents’ strength far exceeded their expectations, surpassing their own by a wide margin. Their preparations had been insufficient.
They had underestimated them!
The Grand Elder gnashed his teeth, fury burning in his chest. "That Dugu Hong must have been a spy, deliberately hiding Xu Jingshu’s true power!"
"What do we do now?" someone asked.
"Since we failed to capture them, we’ll spread rumors in secret." The Grand Elder clenched his fist before suddenly turning. "The key to this battle lies there."
His gaze fixed on the Sacred Tower, his eyes burning with fanatical devotion. "He is the heir of the Divine Bones. He will surely succeed."
Inside the Sacred Tower,
Wen Shuangbai had been standing motionless in the empty hall for a long time.
Four Hundred climbed onto her shoulder, one tiny wooden hand tugging at her long hair as it leaned its wooden head forward, waving its other little hand frantically in front of her face.
But Wen Shuangbai remained unresponsive, as if her soul had departed.
Four Hundred was frantic.
It was desperate.
Had its master really died?!
No—if Wen Shuangbai died, Xie Ziyin would chop it into eighty-one pieces!
The tiny wooden puppet exhausted every trick it knew—prying at Wen Shuangbai’s eyelids, yanking her hair—but nothing worked.
The man-eating flower coiled around Wen Shuangbai’s wrist watched the puppet’s antics with disdain before growing impatient. It opened its maw wide and—gulp—swallowed Four Hundred whole.
Four Hundred was livid, stabbing wildly from inside the flower’s belly until it had no choice but to spit the puppet back out.
The wooden puppet tumbled far away, scrambling back as fast as its little legs could carry it. Just as it reached Wen Shuangbai’s feet, the robed woman finally stirred.
Wen Shuangbai opened her eyes.
A flash of white light passed through her bright pupils, and upon closer inspection, one could see a miniature Sacred Tower glowing within the depths of her gaze.
She blinked once, and the tower vanished, hidden away once more.
She had finally fully assimilated the Sacred Tower’s scroll.
On the ground, the little wooden puppet clasped its hands together, staring up in awe.
Its master wasn’t dead! She had even broken through to a higher realm!
Hooray—long live Wen Shuangbai!
