Hearing Xie Tingbai's voice, Ning Menglan and the First and Second Elders finally snapped back to reality.
They knew well that Gu Yunqi's illusion array could not be wrong.
Back when she was at the Nascent Soul stage, her illusions could already disorient even Great Ascension cultivators.
Now, as a Transcendent Realm master, even they would struggle to maintain clarity within her illusions—only at the cost of great effort.
Thus, everything in the illusion could only reflect what lay in Xu Wanci’s heart.
The Second Elder lifted his head, silently observing the scene projected by the Secret Realm’s Mirror.
It was too dark.
An endless expanse of deathly silence and darkness.
So, Xu Wanci’s heart was not the barren wasteland they had imagined—it was something far more despairing, a void without a single ray of light.
Of course.
The Third Elder’s illusion array could only make Xu Wanci see the person she longed for most.
But she already knew—that person’s soul had long since scattered to the winds…
Who else could there possibly be for her to yearn for?
Beside her, Xie Tingbai clenched his fists, his gaze fixed on the abyss within the Secret Realm’s Mirror. For the first time, the usual gentleness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a swirling darkness.
Inside the illusion, Xu Wanci walked forward step by step—silently, calmly, stubbornly.
She didn’t care about the dangers lurking in the dark, nor did she question whether this path had an end. She simply moved forward, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
One hour passed, then two…
Seeing this, the Second Elder murmured, “Does she never tire?”
“How could she tire?” Xie Tingbai finally tore his gaze away, his expression regaining its usual composure and warmth.
Yet beneath that warmth lingered a trace of mockery—whether directed at himself or the figure in the illusion, it was impossible to tell.
He unclenched his fists, his voice unnaturally calm, as if suppressing something deeper:
“She has walked this path for a hundred years. A few hours mean nothing.”
At this, Gu Yunqi finally snapped out of her daze.
She had always prided herself as a prodigy—never before had her illusions failed to provoke a reaction.
Her brows furrowed, her spiritual energy fluctuating wildly.
“I refuse to believe it,” she said. “How can there be a cultivator completely unmoved by illusions?”
Xu Wanci’s indifference in the illusion only agitated her further.
If such a person truly existed—someone untouched by any emotion—then what was the point of her mastering illusions?
And Xu Wanci herself…
With a heart so dark, devoid of even a sliver of light—how could she possibly keep going?
For the first time, Gu Yunqi understood why everyone feared Xu Wanci might embrace death at any moment.
One hand still channeled spiritual energy into the array, while the other clenched into a fist.
In the face of such endless darkness, death seemed more like liberation.
Pressing her lips together, Gu Yunqi spoke with stubborn determination:
“If Xu Wanci has no one she wishes to see, no joy left in her heart… then perhaps she still has something she fears.”
Hearing this, the First Elder reacted sharply, his voice stern:
“Junior Sister!”
But Gu Yunqi met his gaze, her resolve unshaken. “If her heart truly is as dead as this illusion suggests, then nothing in this world can stir her anymore.”
Xu Wanci’s sorrow, joy, anger—all of it had frozen the moment she learned of Immortal Venerable Qingyan’s demise.
Otherwise, the illusion wouldn’t be this desolate.
She turned back to the Secret Realm’s Mirror, watching the lone figure trudging through the darkness. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
For the first time, she no longer saw Xu Wanci merely as an opportunity.
She wasn’t even sure if her decision now was for her own gain—or for the slim hope that Xu Wanci might find a reason to live.
Pointing at the mirror, she addressed the First Elder:
“Senior Brother, look at what lies in Xu Wanci’s heart. Even if I withdraw the illusion, can you truly pretend nothing happened? Can you still believe you can stop her from seeking death?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Do you really want this? To let her keep living—worse than death?”
Her words silenced the First Elder. The Second Elder and Ning Menglan clenched their fists but offered no objection.
Only Xie Tingbai remained unmoved, his gaze still fixed on the mirror.
Gu Yunqi lowered her hand. “Besides… it can’t get any worse.”
Straightening, she summoned the spiritual energy of a Transcendent Realm illusion master.
“Senior Brother, sometimes survival lies through the brink of destruction.”
To save Xu Wanci, they needed to take drastic measures.
Outside the secret realm, no one stopped her.
Gu Yunqi formed hand seals, her spiritual energy seeping into the illusion array.
Within the illusion, Xu Wanci felt an unfamiliar surge of emotion. Her steps never faltered, but her heart tightened.
If the earlier whispers had tempted her with memories of happiness, coaxing her to relive them—
Now, the voices wrapped her in fear and darkness.
Even with the Three-Leaf Lotus protecting her mind, fragments of unwanted memories flickered at the edges of her consciousness.
She steadied herself, forcibly suppressing every thought.
Outside the secret realm, no matter how much spiritual energy Gu Yunqi poured in, it was like trying to drain an ocean with a sieve.
The darkness in the illusion remained unbroken.
One breath, one cup of tea, one incense stick’s worth of time…
Still, the abyss persisted.
Inside the illusion, Xu Wanci felt the emotions she had forced down twitch faintly at her fingertips.
She could maintain this stalemate indefinitely—keeping the illusion shrouded in darkness until she chose to leave.
It was the safest, most foolproof option.
But… should she?
If she walked out now, in everyone’s eyes, she would still be the Xu Wanci whose heart had turned to ash—the one always on the verge of seeking death.
And that persona… was no longer useful.
In the cultivation world, she couldn’t rely on Immortal Venerable Qingyan forever.
Raising her own strength was her priority now that she had chosen to live.
Before, she could use the Three-Leaf Lotus from the sect competition as an excuse to cultivate diligently. Later, she could cite her past with Immortal Venerable Qingyan to justify entering the Endless Secret Realm.
But after that?
A persona steeped in despair could never suddenly become obsessed with cultivation.
She had considered many methods, but none were enough—
Not enough to justify a complete transformation.
Not enough to explain why she would start striving like any other disciple.
The Illusion Heart Array was, by far, her best opportunity yet.
Far better than any of her previous plans.
As long as she could force herself to remain lucid after immersing in the illusion, as long as she was careful and cautious enough…
If things spiraled beyond control, she could still target her own consciousness to force Gu Yunqi to dismantle the array.
At this thought, Xu Wanci’s long lashes trembled slightly:
Was there truly nothing she feared?
Outside the secret realm.
The crowd stared at the still pitch-black Illusion Heart Array, their expressions resigned:
As expected… was it useless?
Just then, Ning Menglan’s expression sharpened abruptly:
“Look.”
“The illusion… has changed.”
Within the Illusion Heart Array, Xu Wanci continued walking forward slowly.
Then, in the endless darkness, a voice emerged—
A voice so soft, yet heavy as a mountain:
“What an endlessly long darkness.”
Xu Wanci showed no reaction, continuing her quiet advance.
The voice bore no trace of gender, age, or emotion, as if it were a shadow cast from the depths of her heart—dark and hollow:
“What a distant path.”
“A road forever shrouded in solitude.”
“A road walked by you alone.”
“A road where no one will ever accompany you again, as they once did.”
Outside the secret realm, listening to this voice, Ning Menglan murmured with a tinge of melancholy:
“Is this… what Xu Wanci fears?”
The terror of facing an endless darkness without that person by her side.
Yet, within that terror, she had gradually learned to adapt… and then to grow numb.
Meanwhile, Gu Yunqi, who was channeling spiritual energy to maintain the array, had turned deathly pale.
Sustaining the formation was far more draining than she had anticipated.
Inside the Illusion Heart Array, the voice continued:
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Look—who else remembers him besides you?”
“No one. No one else remembers him anymore.”
For the first time in three hours, Xu Wanci’s footsteps slowed.
Sensing her hesitation, the voice grew bolder:
“In a hundred years, a thousand years, everything about him will fade into oblivion.”
“Just like the Rain-Transforming Ephemerals he once planted for you.”
“Gone without a trace.”
Xu Wanci finally stopped.
Though she had walked for so long, she remained at the very heart of the darkness.
Her figure blended into the shadows, yet stood apart from them.
Her head was bowed, her expression unreadable—only her hoarse voice could be heard:
“You’re wrong.”
“No one in this world will forget him.”
She let out a laugh, but the sound was unbearably bitter:
“Yet no one wants to remember him.”
No one wished to acknowledge that the peace and vitality of the cultivation world today had been bought with one man’s sacrifice.
No one wanted to bear the weight of that karma, yet they had no choice but to accept it.
Outside the secret realm, everyone froze.
They knew Xu Wanci spoke the truth.
Xie Tingbai slowly closed his eyes:
He prided himself on understanding human nature, yet he had never imagined that Xu Wanci’s greatest fear…
Was that no one would remember that man.
Greater than fate, greater than life and death, even greater than this boundless darkness.
Then, Gu Yunqi’s voice cut through the silence:
“Next, I’ll attempt to redirect the array’s power—to draw out her will to live.”
“But I’ve never tried this before. If anything feels off…”
“Stop me immediately.”
Seeing Gu Yunqi’s spiritual energy nearly depleted, the Second Elder moved to infuse her with energy—only to be sharply interrupted:
“Elder Sister, the Illusion Heart Array only responds to my energy. Just toss me a spirit herb or a support formation. Don’t interfere.”
Xu Wanci sensed the subtle shift in the array.
But the change was too faint—it needed a stronger emotional push.
She closed her eyes, slowly conjuring the one thing she desired most.
The voice in the illusion shifted, now thick with temptation:
“Yes, no one will forget him… but no one…”
“Wants to save him.”
At the same moment, Gu Yunqi, controlling the array, coughed up a mouthful of blood.
The Second Elder rushed to her side but dared not touch her, fearing disruption.
Gu Yunqi swallowed the blood and forced a wry smile:
“I overestimated myself.”
“Even a single mention of that man has nearly drained me dry.”
Her eyes, however, burned with renewed determination as spiritual energy surged in her palms again:
“Don’t worry, Elder Sister. It’s just an illusion array.”
Inside the illusion, Xu Wanci’s head snapped up at the voice’s words—her eyes alight with something never seen before.
Her breath and heartbeat raced as she rasped:
“What… did you say?”
“Save him?”
The illusion’s voice softened, dripping with persuasion:
“Yes. Don’t you want to?”
Xu Wanci forced herself to temper her hope, her voice trembling with restraint:
“But they said… his soul was scattered beyond recovery.”
The voice in the illusion grew emphatic:
“Didn’t that man once tell you?”
“The Great Dao offers three thousand paths—one must lead to hope.”
“Do you trust those who refuse to remember him… or do you trust him?”
Xu Wanci shut her eyes, her decision already made:
How could she not trust him?
She had simply waited so long that she’d begun to believe all hope was lost.
Her voice was whisper-soft, as if speaking louder would shatter this fragile dream:
“How… can I save him?”
How could she gather the fragments of his soul, scattered across the cultivation world?
The illusion’s voice began to fade:
“Haven’t you already found the answer in your heart?”
Xu Wanci stared into the returning silence of the darkness, then pressed a hand slowly against her chest.
Listening to her erratic heartbeat, she finally felt something real.
Outside the secret realm.
Everyone watched as a faint speck of light flickered within the abyssal darkness of the Illusion Heart Array.
Gu Yunqi, seeing this, could hold on no longer—her spiritual energy dissipated, and she collapsed to her knees.
The Second Elder caught her, urgently channeling energy into her meridians:
“Your spiritual energy is critically depleted. Even your transcendent core has run dry.”
She left unspoken the rest: Recovery would take years of rest.
The Grand Elder fed Gu Yunqi one top-grade recovery pill after another.
Finally, as a trickle of energy returned to her dantian, Gu Yunqi found the strength to breathe again.
She abruptly snatched the medicine bottle from the Grand Elder’s hand and poured its contents into her mouth in one go. Then, she grabbed the spiritual herb from the Second Elder and stuffed it into her mouth without hesitation. Afterward, she tossed the empty bottle aside, sat cross-legged, and began regulating her spiritual energy.
The Second Elder watched Gu Yunqi’s meditative state and gently wiped away the trace of blood at the corner of her lips.
Just then, the faint sound of a falling droplet echoed.
Everyone except Gu Yunqi instinctively looked up, their gazes drawn to the Secret Realm’s projection.
Inside the Secret Realm.
Xu Wanci had awakened at some point.
She stood amidst the Illusory Feather Flower Field, tears dripping one by one onto the petals. Though she wept, her eyes shimmered with scattered flecks of light—hope, joy.
She smiled through her tears.
Given Xu Wanci’s current cultivation level, there was no way she could see through the Illusion Heart Array Gu Yunqi had set. To her, everything within the array was real. Even if that reality was fragile, so easily shattered.
Outside the Secret Realm, silence reigned.
Everyone knew it was a lie.
They couldn’t bear to look at Xu Wanci’s expression any longer.
If she ever learned the truth…
Even the usually stern Grand Elder averted his gaze helplessly.
All they could do was prolong the deception.
Perhaps in a few hundred or thousand years, Xu Wanci’s feelings for the Immortal Venerable Qingyan would fade.
After all, time could heal all wounds.
Only Xie Tingbai remained fixated on Xu Wanci’s every move.
Watching her weep with joy, he suddenly recalled the rumors he’d heard from other disciples—Xu Wanci’s infatuation with Chu Qingchuan.
Chu Qingchuan was nothing like that person.
Had she truly not noticed the discrepancy?
Or was she too afraid to question it?
Just like now, clinging desperately to that lifeline, unwilling—unable—to let go.
Without it, she might collapse entirely.
Inside the Secret Realm, Xu Wanci wiped her tears and stepped out of the Illusory Feather Flower Field.
Each of her footsteps carried a newfound determination and hope, unlike anything she’d shown before.
Watching her retreating figure, everyone turned away, unable to bear the sight.
Amidst the heavy silence, Ning Menglan was the first to compose himself. He buried his emotions deep, his expression reverting to its usual authority.
Then, he remembered his own personal disciple, who had also entered the Secret Realm.
For most of the day, their attention had been fixed on Xu Wanci. He wondered how Chu Qingchuan was faring.
With a wave of his hand, the projection shifted to reveal Chu Qingchuan’s figure on the giant stone screen.
Unlike the serene flower field surrounding Xu Wanci, Chu Qingchuan was knee-deep in a swamp, locked in a grueling battle against a sixth-grade Mud Dragon.
Watching him get thrown into the mire again and again, his once-neat attire reduced to tatters, Ning Menglan showed no concern. Instead, he shook his head leisurely.
"Young people these days lack experience."
"They need more training."
As soon as he spoke, Chu Qingchuan was hurled aside once more, coughing up blood.
The Grand Elder nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, more tempering is necessary."
At that moment, in the other projection, Xu Wanci’s fingertip was pricked by a hidden spirit insect amidst the flowers.
A single drop of blood welled from the tiny wound.
Though it was barely noticeable, Ning Menglan’s gaze sharpened instantly, his concern unmistakable.
The Grand Elder’s brow furrowed slightly, while the Second Elder stood abruptly.
"Even though it’s just a harmless Spirit Veil Insect, it’s still a creature of the Secret Realm. The wound will linger."
Seeing Xu Wanci continue forward without pause, showing no sign of pain, she sighed softly.
"Why doesn’t she tend to it? At least apply some medicine."
All eyes remained fixed on Xu Wanci, not a single glance spared for Chu Qingchuan as he struggled to rise from beneath the Mud Dragon’s bulk.
Another day passed.
Perhaps because Xu Wanci had once been guided through the Secret Realm by that person, she encountered no real danger.
She moved forward with unwavering resolve, heading straight for her goal.
Ning Menglan couldn’t help but wonder aloud.
"Grand Elder, what treasure do you think Xu Wanci will claim?"
With the Immortal Venerable Qingyan’s prior guidance, she was likely to obtain the most precious artifact in the entire Secret Realm.
Before the Grand Elder could respond, he sensed a sudden surge of spiritual energy beside him.
Gu Yunqi had been meditating for an entire day, yet showed no signs of awakening. Instead, the aura around her grew even more profound and unfathomable.
Gu Yunqi focused inward, her emotions in turmoil.
Before this, she had always believed her arrays were tools for subduing enemies—the Illusion Heart Array included.
Her proudest creation, the Illusion Heart Array, was designed to exploit memories, whether despair or joy, to deliver a decisive blow.
She had never imagined it could be used to save someone.
Remembering the faint glimmer of light at the end of the illusion, she felt an answering ripple of spiritual energy in her dantian.
A thought contrary to her usual methods took root:
Why couldn’t the Illusion Heart Array heal?
Yes.
A path focused solely on destruction was too narrow, incomplete.
The Illusion Heart Array could save.
She could make it save.
In that moment, the bottleneck that had plagued her for centuries began to loosen.
She settled into deep stillness:
Salvation and punishment—both were her path.
Suddenly, a radiant white light enveloped her. Her once-depleted dantian filled with spiritual energy, and centuries of accumulation, combined with this epiphany, finally allowed her to break through the bottleneck of the early Transcendence Stage.
She had advanced to the mid-Transcendence Stage.
The onlookers stood frozen in shock.
They knew Xu Wanci was tied to the karmic debt they owed the Immortal Venerable Qingyan.
But they had never expected the benefits to manifest so swiftly.
Gu Yunqi had merely reignited Xu Wanci’s will to live, and in doing so, shattered a centuries-old barrier.
Now, they shared a single conviction:
They must protect Xu Wanci at all costs.
This was an opportunity they would regret for eternity if missed.
Under their collective gaze, Gu Yunqi finally opened her eyes. The fervor for power and opportunity that once burned within them had tempered into something calmer, more profound.
Several voices chimed in unison: "Congratulations, Junior Sister / Third Elder, on advancing to the mid-stage of Transcendence Tribulation."
Hearing their voices, Gu Yunqi suddenly snapped back to reality, the steadiness in her eyes replaced by a dazed expression as she murmured,
"I actually broke through?!"
Feeling the surging spiritual energy within her body, she abruptly stood up, her gaze burning with intensity as she stared at Xu Wanci within the Secret Realm's projection:
"Oh heavens!!"
"Xu Wanci isn’t just an opportunity—she’s my destiny!!"
"I’d marry her in a heartbeat—heck, I’d even become her spirit beast if she’d let me!"
The Second Elder let out a resigned sigh, as if this were nothing new:
"Junior Sister, you should focus on your cultivation."
Please, just stop talking.
Meanwhile, inside the secret realm, Xu Wanci finally arrived at her destination.
Amidst a sea of green grass, a single pale-white lily of the valley stood out at the center, radiant and captivating.
Xu Wanci gazed at the Jade Soul Lily, her fingertips twitching slightly:
In the original novel, when Chu Qingchuan arrived here, he was already severely injured. While plucking this flower, he encountered no attacks from spirit beasts.
And once the Jade Soul Lily was picked, he would be instantly teleported out of the secret realm.
So there was no real danger.
Now, all she had to do was wait for the Jade Soul Lily to mature.
The moment its pale-white hue deepened into a soft lavender…
Outside the secret realm, everyone frowned at Xu Wanci’s choice.
Gu Yunqi, in particular, blurted out in shock:
"Why would Xu Wanci choose the Jade Soul Lily?"
Her voice carried a barely detectable note of reproach, her dedication to the path of cultivation making her question the decision:
"With her talent and cultivation level, she could form her Nascent Soul effortlessly—she doesn’t even need the Jade Soul Lily!"
"If she just waited a few more years…"
The Boundless Secret Realm held so many other opportunities, and she even knew the locations of every rare treasure…
Only Xie Tingbai understood her choice.
For the first time, his voice carried a trace of bitterness:
"Because she can’t wait."
"Only by becoming strong enough will she have a chance…"
To save that person.
So she refused to rely on external aids, choosing instead to push her cultivation to its limits, no matter the cost.
Just like before, when she learned that the sect competition’s reward included a Three-Leaf Lotus forged by that very person—she had forged her sword heart without hesitation, consequences be damned.
Today was no different.
Ning Menglan sighed softly:
"What a fool for love."
Xu Wanci stood silently beside the Jade Soul Lily, waiting for the moment of its full bloom.
Time stretched endlessly.
Just as the three-day deadline approached, a golden light erupted from the flower.
A delicate fragrance spread outward, enveloping the surroundings.
Xu Wanci reached out and gently plucked it.
The moment the Jade Soul Lily settled into her palm, it fused seamlessly with her blood and meridians.
In the next instant, the Boundless Secret Realm tenderly expelled her.
Outside the secret realm,
Xu Wanci hovered mid-air, cradled by the flower’s gentle spiritual energy.
Her cultivation steadily climbed as the golden core in her dantian shattered piece by piece.
Yet she felt no pain—only an endless tide of spiritual energy, vast as the ocean, pouring into her dantian. Where her golden core had once been, a tiny Nascent Soul, shaped like her, now lay peacefully.
The remaining energy surged through her meridians, spiritual roots, bones, and blood.
Ning Menglan and the others had long prepared for this moment, their expressions solemn as they braced for the heavenly tribulation.
Forming a Nascent Soul required enduring nine heavenly strikes—each infused with the power of the heavens, unavoidable, unyielding.
But no heavenly tribulation came.
Instead, they were met with celestial music, a sky-spanning vision of countless lotuses blooming, and an overwhelming divine aura.
Beams of heavenly light swirled around Xu Wanci, dancing before merging into her body.
This was a gift from the heavens—a sign of the Dao’s favor.
Yet, unnoticed by all—even Xu Wanci, who was usually hyper-aware of being watched—
From the endless expanse of the sky,
A divine will cast a fleeting glance in her direction.
