“Let me go!”
“I refuse to accept this!”
“Ling Heng, you’re abusing your authority for personal revenge!”
Shen Fuyu’s voice gradually faded as he was swiftly dragged away.
On Disciple Peak, the silence was so deep that one could hear a pin drop.
“C-click…”
The faint sound drew everyone’s attention. Once they realized what it was, they were left speechless.
It was a disciple from Fuyu Peak. He was so terrified that his teeth were chattering.
At that moment, the Class A disciples understood him especially well.
Because they knew.
It had only been a minor matter—a small conflict, a trivial dispute—yet somehow, it had ended with an elder being thrown into confinement.
They had been through it before.
One by one, they looked at the Fuyu Peak disciples with sympathy. Their feet shifted subtly as they huddled closer together, sharing a single thought:
From now on, stay far away from Nangong Yu. The farther, the better!
“Cough… cough, cough…” Nangong Yu lay weakly on the ground, lightly pounding the earth. “I’m fine. I don’t need compensation…”
Elder Ling Heng’s mouth twitched.
Above them, the Sect Master’s mouth twitched as well.
Daoist Lord Zhoushan, standing at his side, gave a soft “Oh?” and said, “This disciple is rather unusual.”
After cultivating for a thousand years, this was the first time he had encountered such an amusing child.
Those words made the Sect Master’s heart tighten, but his expression remained composed. “Indeed. That is why Ling Heng keeps such a close watch over her.”
Only True Person Qinghong looked upward with concern. “Martial Ancestor, Junior Martial Aunt’s dantian has been injured.”
At those words, Elder Ling Heng’s expression changed. He immediately flew down and landed beside Nangong Yu.
Spiritual energy flowed from his fingertips as he probed into her body.
It made one full circuit, then vanished for no apparent reason, as though something had swallowed it.
Without changing expression, Elder Ling Heng sent in another thread of spiritual energy. The result was exactly the same.
“Mm. She’s suffered a minor injury.” He rose to his feet. “Go to Danhua Peak and ask for something to restore her strength. Put it on Fuyu Peak’s tab.”
Although the Fuyu Peak Master had been imprisoned, his disciples had not.
The moment True Person Qinghong heard that her Little Grand Martial Aunt was injured, anger flashed across her face. “Yes, Martial Ancestor.”
She quickly departed, heading straight for Danhua Peak.
“Come back with your master,” Elder Ling Heng said as he stood. Since they were putting on an act, they might as well see it through; with a wave of his hand, he used spiritual energy to lift her up.
Nangong Yu was carried away looking thoroughly “frail and sickly.”
The Sect Master quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Then his gaze shifted to Elder Baihe. “If there is a next time, you need not remain an elder any longer!”
As the elder in charge of Disciple Peak, he had actually allowed a group of disciples to be left on their own—and they had nearly caused an incident.
Elder Baihe inwardly cursed his rotten luck. But since it had happened, he could only suppress his frustration and reply, “Yes, Sect Master.”
Before long, the Sect Master and Daoist Lord Zhoushan departed as well.
Disciple Peak fell silent once more.
“Senior Brother, this isn’t your fault,” Luo Qingyuan said, offering a word of comfort.
She might have been fond of Little Yu, my disciple, but with her hand over her heart, she had to admit it: Little Yu, my disciple, was extraordinarily gifted—and from an early age, she had shown a remarkable talent for stirring up bloody storms. Others could hardly be blamed.
“Shen Fuyu is sick in the head!” Elder Baihe cursed angrily.
Yet after that single outburst, his anger gradually ebbed away.
“Ah. It hasn’t been easy for him either.”
Luo Qingyuan was unconcerned. “He was already like this before Shen Xianzhi disappeared.”
Shen Xianzhi was Shen Fuyu’s beloved daughter. She had vanished several years ago—neither alive nor dead, no trace of her to be found—and Shen Fuyu had never stopped searching for her.
Yet although she was said to be missing, Shen Xianzhi’s soul lamp had long since gone out.
Shen Fuyu had used the blood from his heart to summon her, but not even a wisp of her remaining soul had returned. No one knew whether she was trapped somewhere—or whether her soul had already scattered into nothingness.
Elder Ling Heng had imprisoned him on the Black Ice Cliff, perhaps in the hope that a hundred years there would calm him down and help him let go of this knot in his heart.
The two spoke for a while longer. Seeing that the sun was nearly setting, they dismissed the disciples from class and went their separate ways.
Mo Jiuyou, Zhao Ziyun, and Xiao Junlin—who were ordinarily never seen together—walked down the mountain in silence this time.
“When it comes to a talent for causing trouble, I’m not even a tenth as good as she is,” Zhao Ziyun said first, reflecting deeply on what had happened that day.
Although she was more gifted than Nangong Yu, when she considered Nangong Yu’s record, she could not feel the slightest bit proud.
How long had she been in the sect? Not even two months—and she had already gotten three elders locked up.
“So, who do you think will be next?” Mo Jiuyou plucked a foxtail grass stem from the roadside, idly swinging it as he asked.
Xiao Junlin, more composed than the others, replied, “There should not be a fourth one anytime soon.”
Elder Fuyun had borne a grudge against her from the very day she entered the sect.
It had been the same with Elder Xuanqing. They had clashed on the Azure Cloud Stairway.
Shen Fuyu was the exception.
But one exception was enough.
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Mo Jiuyou looked delighted at the prospect. “I bet a fourth elder will be sent in within a month.”
“I’ll take that bet!” Zhao Ziyun said brightly.
Zhou Wan walked behind the three of them, neither too near nor too far—just close enough to hear their conversation. She said nothing.
Yet from a distance, the four of them clearly appeared to be walking together.
The other Class A disciples, meanwhile, descended the mountain in scattered groups, hurrying back to their quarters in near terror.
“This is terrible.”
“That female demoness is not someone to be provoked.”
—
Nangong Yu returned to Hengxu Peak.
Elder Ling Heng tossed her down in front of her cave residence. The moment she landed, Nangong Yu let out an “Ow!” and collapsed toward the ground.
Elder Ling Heng watched her performance and said irritably, “Stop pretending.”
“Master, who’s pretending?” Nangong Yu asked weakly. “Your disciple’s dantian has been injured.”
The corner of Elder Ling Heng’s mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t I know whether you were hurt or not?”
“Would you?” Nangong Yu looked at him. “You can’t even see my dantian. What could you possibly know?”
That question left Elder Ling Heng speechless. His first instinct was to say, “You’re obviously fine.”
But after a brief hesitation, he asked, “Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere,” Nangong Yu said, looking thoroughly miserable. “Master, I may need a few days of rest.”
In a flash, Elder Ling Heng understood. “You want to skip class?”
This was Hengxu Peak. There was no need for her to keep up the act here. Besides, he had already sent True Person Qinghong to demand compensation for her.
That left only one possibility. Elder Ling Heng reminded himself that he, too, had once been a child, and immediately understood what she was thinking.
“You don’t have to go to the disciples’ peak,” he said. “But you must still attend class.”
After thinking for a moment, he said, “Have your… Junior Disciple Qinghong teach you instead.”
Nangong Yu had no idea why Chen Zhi had been replaced by True Person Qinghong, but it made no difference. Qinghong was well known for being gentle and attentive.
“Master is doing this for your own good.” Afraid she might rebel, Perfected Ling Heng coaxed her, “Once you leave the sect, you won’t know this and won’t recognize that. What if someone swindles you?”
Take talismans, for example. Did she know which ones were good, valuable, or powerful?
If someone tried to fool her with fake talismans, could she tell on the spot?
The same went for formations, heavenly treasures, the taboos of different sects… These were all essential basics for traveling outside!
“Fine, fine, I’ll attend class,” Nangong Yu obediently agreed. “Sigh, I still have to study even when I’m injured. If I’d known being a cultivator was this hard…”
She paused, then added, “I would’ve come ages ago!”
Her words made Elder Ling Heng laugh, though they also stirred a trace of pity in him. “Zhou Yun’s soul lamp has shattered. Zhao You has disappeared. And now Shen Fuyu has been imprisoned. As for the injustice suffered by Little Yan Village, this is all Master can do.”
He had brought up the matter so suddenly that Nangong Yu turned serious as well. “Thank you, Master.”
“No need to thank me.” Elder Ling Heng shook his head, his expression cold and solemn. “You may think it unfair. But the sect rules are there, and I cultivate the Dao of Public Law.”
His gaze drifted into the distance for a moment before returning to Nangong Yu.
“Unless, one day, you rewrite the sect rules. Let cultivators who kill mortals be punished by the same laws as mortals.”
Inside the cave dwelling—
Nangong Yu lay in a massage chair with sleep mode on, her entire body gently rising and falling with the chair’s cradle-like motion.
There were no lamps lit in the cave dwelling. Instead, she had embedded a luminous pearl in the wall—the one she had pried out of the Lin family’s secret chamber.
The dim light only deepened the drowsiness in the room. Nangong Yu’s eyes were half-closed, her thoughts like a computer on standby, with only the essential threads still running.
What had Master NPC meant by that?
Ever since she had transmigrated into this instance and encountered the massacre at Little Yan Village—the silent, resentful faces in the dusk—
Then killed Zhou Yun and Zhao You, completing the Little Yan Village side quest—
She had assumed it was merely a minor side quest in the beginner’s village. Yet after so long, Shen Fuyu’s storyline had suddenly emerged, along with his “punishment.”
It was difficult for Nangong Yu not to wonder whether the true main quest buried within this instance was finally surfacing.
Was her mission in this instance to rewrite the rules of the Canglan Realm, so that mortals and cultivators’ lives would hold equal worth? So that if a cultivator killed a mortal, they too would pay with their life—just as the saying went: “When a prince breaks the law, he is punished like any commoner”?
Was that it?
The cradle swayed quietly. Her eyelids drooped further, and she looked as though she were about to drift into sleep.
Nearly all the threads in her mind had shut down. The last remaining one was about to close as well—when, at that very moment, a new thread suddenly appeared.
What was her Dao?
Master NPC’s Dao was the Dao of Public Law.
Senior Brother NPC’s Dao was also the Dao of Public Law, but he had not cultivated it with enough conviction. That was why he had encountered a bottleneck and struggled to advance for so long.
Chen Zhi, the sect master, Xie Jinyue, Ling Xue… everyone had their own Dao.
So what was hers?
This was a cultivation instance. Everyone had to follow its rules: cultivate, find their own Dao, and only then could they gain a foothold amid countless horrors.
Even as a player, she had to find her own Dao if she wanted to continue cultivating. Her previous two breakthroughs had both been accidents, and despite absorbing so much spiritual energy, she had only reached the sixth level of Qi Refinement. That alone said enough.
Without a Dao of her own, her progress would inevitably be slow. Perhaps Mo Jiuyou would reach the Golden Core stage while she was still stuck in Qi Refinement.
“Dao...”
Nangong Yu slowly opened her eyes, switched off Cradle Mode, crossed her legs, and assumed the standard meditative posture with her five centers facing heaven.
The *Great Springback Art*.
Nothing happened.
The last time she had borrowed spiritual energy, it had come the moment she asked—freely and willingly. But this time, the spiritual energy acted as though it did not know her at all, each wisp floating alone in the air, unwilling even to drift close.
“As expected.” Nangong Yu lowered her gaze and turned her awareness inward, examining her dantian.
It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight.
There was a lake, grassy fields, a villa, lovely birds, and lively fish.
And there were three towering trees, bearing pancakes, braised chicken feet, and emerald watermelons—each carrying her memories, her longing, and her love.
If, back then, she had not been an ordinary girl who scavenged for a living, but instead a Tribulation Transcendence cultivator—or even an immortal—would her home still have been invaded by the Infinite Flow? Would Grandpa and Grandma still have vanished?
Inside her inner sanctuary, the spiritual energy that had once been strangers to her slowly began to gather.
