Jiang Qiuning perhaps understood Chu Qingchuan better than he understood himself.
That was why she had been able to sense something amiss about him from the very beginning.
If she put her mind to it, deducing the information she wanted from his words was not difficult.
Recalling the subtle hints Chu Qingchuan had just revealed, Jiang Qiuning suddenly clenched her hands, her gaze complex and shaken.
She had known that Xu Wanci’s recent changes must have had a reason, but she had never imagined it would be… this.
Immortal Venerable Qingyan.
A century ago, the Immortal Venerable Qingyan had sacrificed himself to the heavens, his soul and spirit utterly extinguished.
Just the mere mention of that name was enough to stir the hearts of all cultivators.
Xu Wanci and Immortal Venerable Qingyan.
Had she heard this news before meeting Xu Wanci today, she would not have believed it in the slightest.
But—
Even if emotions and expressions could be faked, one’s indifference to pain, cultivation, and even life itself could not.
And then there was the Mo Shuang Sacred Orchid, a treasure coveted by all in the cultivation world…
Xu Wanci had given it to her without hesitation, so decisively.
If not for something that had shattered her will, why would she abandon the path of the Great Dao?
At this moment, though she might still harbor some doubts, she mostly believed.
After all, everything pointed to that one conclusion.
Jiang Qiuning slowly closed her eyes:
So all of Xu Wanci’s admiration and obsession toward Chu Qingchuan had been for another person.
For a hundred years, Xu Wanci had clung to her love for that one person, persisting alone until now.
That was why, upon mistakenly believing Chu Qingchuan to be Immortal Venerable Qingyan’s reincarnation, she had been so obsessive, so reckless.
Had she lost her last shred of hope?
Was that why, after realizing the truth, she had sought death so desperately?
This kind of love was too overwhelming, too awe-inspiring.
Perhaps no one could resist such devotion.
Not even that lofty, life-and-death-wielding… Immortal Venerable.
She knew she was moved by such emotions—and so was Chu Qingchuan.
Yet between them, mutual respect would always outweigh deep affection.
With that thought, Jiang Qiuning clenched her fists, forcing herself to rein in all her emotions.
As the young mistress of the Jiang Family, she had to prioritize the family’s interests above all else.
Now, Xu Wanci was the Jiang Family’s opportunity.
If they could resolve the karmic debt the Jiang Family owed to the Immortal Venerable through Xu Wanci, the family might ascend even further.
No one could resist the allure of the path to the heavens.
But no matter how hard she tried to suppress her thoughts, the image of Xu Wanci lying bloodied in her arms that day lingered in her mind.
Her eyes lowered slightly, a fleeting trace of heartache flashing through them:
No matter what, she would protect her.
Her fingertips shimmered with spiritual energy as she sent a secret talisman to the Jiang Family.
After confirming her father had received the message, she instinctively rummaged through her private treasury, searching for spiritual treasures suitable for Xu Wanci.
It wasn’t just spiritual treasures—Xu Wanci’s robes and hairpins also seemed worn.
Xu Wanci slowly opened her eyes.
It had been a long time since she had slept so well.
It was as if she had been immersed in warm water, a continuous stream of warmth flowing into her meridians, bones, and blood, nourishing her body.
These past few days, she had been exhausted and on edge, knowing that the slightest misstep would leave her dead without a whole corpse.
Fortunately, she had finally made it through.
Xu Wanci circulated her spiritual energy and found that not only was she unharmed, but her cultivation had also grown more solid. Her gaze turned knowing.
The timing of the Taiqing Sect’s leader and the others arriving at Ruoxu Peak had been perfect—just in time to witness everything and stop her from gouging out her golden core.
They had even helped heal her injuries.
But even if they hadn’t arrived in time, with Jiang Qiuning there, her golden core would have been safe.
So, from start to finish, all she had needed to do was be ruthless enough with herself.
After this ordeal,
for the time being, all she had to do was maintain the façade of being deeply in love with Immortal Venerable Qingyan. No longer would she need to endlessly harm herself as before.
At this thought, Xu Wanci let out an imperceptible sigh of relief:
She wasn’t unafraid of pain—she just wanted to live more than anything.
Whether it was a different world or a different body, all she wanted was to survive.
She suddenly recalled the original owner’s fate in the novel.
When the original owner’s cultivation was crippled, the Mo Shuang Sacred Orchid within her was exposed.
Chu Qingchuan then drained her of all her blood and marrow, yet kept her barely alive before tossing her into the chaos.
The Mo Shuang Sacred Orchid extracted from her was ultimately used on himself.
The original owner had possessed such great fortune, yet it was as if fate had decreed that everything she had would become stepping stones for Chu Qingchuan’s rise.
And the original owner, clinging to her obsessive love for him, had met her demise.
That was why, back in the Enforcement Hall, she hadn’t dared to reveal the existence of the Mo Shuang Sacred Orchid.
She knew it would only hasten her death.
She had taken over this body and had no right to judge the original owner’s choices.
But the original owner had truly hurt Jiang Qiuning.
And all the harm she had inflicted on herself these past few days had been for survival—it had nothing to do with Jiang Qiuning.
So she hadn’t just extracted the Mo Shuang Sacred Orchid—she had fused it with Jiang Qiuning.
Not only because she needed to rid herself of it, not only because she needed to sever the original owner’s karmic ties, but also as an apology.
An apology was best delivered directly to the victim—more reasonable, more sincere.
Wasn’t that right?
Xu Wanci rose from the bed and walked out the door, step by step, calm and composed.
Perhaps due to Duan Ziwei’s actions these past few days, many of the spiritual plants in the courtyard now appeared lush and thriving.
Even the Illusionary Beauty Tree had grown more vigorous, its fallen leaves carrying an ethereal aura.
Xu Wanci stopped before the tree, her lowered eyelids hiding a flicker of darkness in her eyes.
She raised her left hand, her slender, jade-white fingers lightly brushing against the tree’s thick trunk as she channeled her spiritual energy.
Upon sensing that the tree had only grown slightly more spiritually vibrant without any signs of advancement, she exhaled imperceptibly, finally freeing her mind to consider other matters.
After yesterday’s incident—where she had dug the Mo Shuang Sacred Orchid from her own flesh and blood—Jiang Qiuning’s impression of her had likely shifted.
The Jiang Family would also refrain from acting against her.
Next, she needed to find a reason to resume her cultivation.
Just as she was about to withdraw her hand from the tree, a chilling sense of danger suddenly prickled at her back.
Then, a spiritual needle imbued with an aura of annihilation shot toward her—silent, yet brimming with lethal intent.
In that instant, everything around her seemed to freeze, leaving only the needle’s approach.
In the next moment, it would pierce her chest and take her life.
Xu Wanci’s heartbeat faltered:
Who wanted her dead?
The Jiang Family?
A disciple of the Taiqing Sect?
Or a cultivator the original owner had once offended?
The assailant made no attempt to conceal their intent—she could clearly feel the needle inching closer.
This overwhelming threat even surpassed the pressure she had felt from the two elders in the Enforcement Hall.
Would the defensive artifact left on her by the Taiqing Sect’s leader truly be enough to block such a killing blow?
Her instincts screamed at her to flee, to dodge—to escape at all costs.
But she couldn’t.
Xu Wanci clenched her jaw, forcing herself to suppress the reflexive urge to move. Slowly, she steadied her breathing.
To everyone watching, she had to appear as though she welcomed death.
So she couldn’t evade.
No matter who wanted her dead, no matter how lethal this attack was, she couldn’t flinch.
If she stood her ground, she had a thirty percent chance of survival. If she dodged, death was certain.
Not only could she not move—she couldn’t betray even a flicker of hesitation.
This was just another role to play. She’d done it countless times on the brink of life and death. She could do it again.
In an instant, Xu Wanci’s gaze softened, her expression serene.
Her left fingertips brushed lightly against the bark of the Illusionary Beauty Tree, and a faint, wistful smile touched her lips, as if lost in some tender memory.
She felt the threat closing in from behind, yet her movements remained gentle, devoid of any tension.
When the spiritual needle was mere inches from her, a blinding golden light erupted from her body—only to dim rapidly, crumbling away like embers in the wind.
Three breaths later, the silver needle met no further resistance, hurtling straight toward her heart.
And yet, the woman under attack didn’t so much as twitch. If anything, her lowered eyes seemed to gleam with something like anticipation.
Just as the needle was about to pierce her robes, a soft, derisive scoff cut through the air.
At the same moment, a surge of icy spiritual energy shot forward, colliding with the needle mid-flight and deflecting its trajectory. The needle grazed past Xu Wanci, embedding itself silently into the Illusionary Beauty Tree ahead.
Ning Menglan had rushed over the moment he sensed the defensive artifact he’d left on Xu Wanci being triggered.
Now, staring at the scene before him, his pulse thundered unevenly.
Duan Ziwei—who visited the Sword Peak three times a day without fail—had witnessed it all too. His hands trembled around the storage pouch he held, his thoughts reeling:
A fraction of a second later, and Xu Wanci would have been…
Just as the tension began to ease, Xu Wanci, inexplicably, raised her left hand—directly into the path of the still-flying needle.
The sound of the needle piercing flesh was almost imperceptible, but to those watching, it might as well have been a thunderclap.
Blood bloomed across her sleeve in an instant, staining the fabric crimson.
At the entrance, Duan Ziwei’s pupils contracted violently. For the first time in his life, the color red filled him with dread.
Yet Xu Wanci’s expression remained tranquil, almost detached. She didn’t so much as glance at the wound, her gaze instead drifting to the Illusionary Beauty Tree before her.
When she confirmed the tree was unharmed, she exhaled softly and took a step back.
Then, as if recalling something, she lowered her eyes, her smile turning bitter and self-mocking.
Watching her, Duan Ziwei’s grip finally failed him. The storage pouch slipped from his fingers, its contents scattering across the ground.
In that moment, he thought he understood why she’d done it. The realization crashed over him, a wave of unbearable heaviness:
That… wasn’t him.
That was just a tree.
A mere Illusionary Beauty Tree—one he could replace for her a hundred times over.
