Every sword cultivator's Sword Heart undergoes countless temperings.
It is realized in moments of life and death, deepened with every swing of the blade in daily practice—an imprint etched upon the soul.
Even if all memories and cultivation were lost, this instinct ingrained in the soul would remain.
Duan Ziwei frowned in confusion:
How could a sword cultivator's Sword Heart... shatter?
Then, he suddenly recalled what Chu Qingchuan had once told him:
Xu Wanci... had mistaken Chu Qingchuan for the reincarnation of her beloved.
And she had just learned that the true one was already gone, his soul scattered beyond recovery.
His gaze fell upon the slender figure in the courtyard, his expression unreadably complex:
Could it all be true?
Every kindness Xu Wanci showed Chu Qingchuan was meant for another?
Her suicide with the Soul-Severing Bone—for that person.
And now, the shattering of her Sword Heart—also for that person.
Was such a thing even possible?
In the cultivation world, could love truly be so pure... so utterly staggering?
He liked Jiang Qiuning, yes—but it was merely fondness.
He would never abandon what he cherished for her, let alone... die for her.
Duan Ziwei stood frozen, staring at the figure in the courtyard, unable to take a single step forward.
Xu Wanci had sensed the gaze at her gate the moment she sheathed her sword.
Distracted, the unruly blade slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground.
By the time she picked it up, her composure was flawless.
She slid the spiritual sword into its scabbard, turned calmly, and faced the gate—
Only to be momentarily blinded.
From his crown to his shoes, every inch of the man was adorned with rare magical artifacts, their radiance and spiritual energy dazzling under the sun.
She blinked discreetly before recognizing him.
Duan Ziwei?
If she recalled correctly, he was one of Jiang Qiuning’s admirers.
And his relationship with the original owner of this body?—Utterly hostile.
The original Xu Wanci came from humble origins and had a somewhat aloof temperament, despising Duan Ziwei’s reliance on his family’s influence to act tyrannically within the Taiqing Sect.
Meanwhile, Duan Ziwei loathed her for everything she’d done to Jiang Qiuning.
His purpose here was obvious.
Reviewing her recent actions and finding no flaws, Xu Wanci curved her lips into a detached smile.
People had thresholds for accepting emotions.
If she appeared inconsolable before others, it would only seem bizarre to the uninformed and wearying to those who knew the truth.
She merely needed to maintain the original owner’s usual demeanor, revealing grief only when necessary.
The profound sorrow hidden beneath calmness—that was what moved others.
And once moved, they would overlook inconsistencies.
Besides—
Her gaze settled on the man still lingering at the gate:
Duan Ziwei likely knew nothing of what had transpired. Playing the heartbroken mourner before him would be pointless.
He was probably here to exact revenge on Jiang Qiuning’s behalf now that she’d survived.
The thought stirred a flicker of anticipation beneath her calm facade.
Perfect. She could test whether the Grand Elders had left any defensive artifacts on her.
Duan Ziwei had no inkling of Xu Wanci’s thoughts.
At this moment, the idea of attacking her hadn’t even crossed his mind.
Her expression—so utterly composed—made him frown.
This wasn’t how it should be.
Shouldn’t she be pouring out her pain to him?
Her grief for her lost love, her remorse for hurting Jiang Qiuning, her plea that she hadn’t meant to wrong anyone—that she’d simply mistaken identities...
Yet she said nothing. She stood as she always had when facing him: detached, indifferent.
No trace of someone who had just died and returned.
Xu Wanci waited, but Duan Ziwei remained rooted in place.
Her brows furrowed almost imperceptibly:
Wasn’t he here to settle scores?
Why this reaction?
She set her spiritual sword on the stone table beside her, arms hanging loosely—a posture of complete vulnerability.
When he still didn’t move, her voice laced with deliberate confusion:
“Not going to strike?”
Duan Ziwei flinched as if scalded, stumbling back two steps.
“Who said I came to fight?!” he blurted, voice cracking. “I—I was just wandering!” He nodded vigorously. “Yes. Wandering.”
Xu Wanci listened, her face serene, but a sliver of doubt arose:
Letting go of Jiang Qiuning’s tormentor?
This wasn’t like Duan Ziwei.
Unless... he’d heard something.
Her lashes lowered, veiling a flash of understanding:
It couldn’t be the Taiqing Sect Leader or the Elders. Only Chu Qingchuan.
But the identity of the Qingyan Immortal Venerable was too shocking—surely Chu Qingchuan hadn’t revealed it...
In mere breaths, she pieced together the likely scenario.
Realizing Duan Ziwei wouldn’t attack, a faint disappointment flickered.
She’d have to wait for the next vengeful visitor.
Turning away, her voice tinged with weariness:
“In that case, I won’t see you out.”
Duan Ziwei stiffened at her blatant dismissal.
He’d just arrived! He hadn’t even—
Steeling himself, he drew a breath and looked at Xu Wanci, ready to probe further.
Then he saw it: her back, slumped with exhaustion and solitude.
No defenses. No spiritual energy. Not even the basic vigilance of a cultivator.
A mere Qi Refining novice could harm her effortlessly.
Did she trust him... or simply not care if she lived or died?
The thought pricked him. He averted his eyes, scanning the courtyard instead.
The dilapidated gate, the crumbling walls—his chaotic emotions suddenly had an outlet.
When agitated, he had a habit: throwing money at problems.
The greater his turmoil, the more extravagant his spending.
Duan Ziwei strode forward, suddenly finding every detail of the courtyard intolerable.
A wooden gate without a wisp of spiritual energy? Replace it with Millennium Springwood!
This shabby stone table—outdated even for mortal markets? Swap it for a Dark Jade Table, impervious to divine senses and imbued with defensive arrays!
And this soil—barely enough spiritual energy to sustain a weed? Mix in the Ten-Thousand Flora Earth his father had looted from a secret realm!
...
This was second nature to him. In moments, the courtyard was transformed.
By the time Xu Wanci turned back, bewildered, the makeover was nearly complete.
At this moment, Duan Ziwei was so engrossed in scattering spiritual treasures and artifacts that he failed to notice Xu Wanci had already turned around.
He was sharpening his metaphorical blade, eyeing the last untouched spot in the courtyard.
There stood a Phantom Beauty Tree.
The sight of it made Duan Ziwei pause abruptly.
He remembered this tree.
When he first saw it, he had inwardly mocked Xu Wanci for her delusions and shamelessness—how she, unable to win Chu Qingchuan’s affection, had resorted to a Phantom Beauty Tree in a futile attempt to console herself.
But now, he suddenly realized that the person she had always longed to see through that tree was none other than him.
Yet the Phantom Beauty Tree was too low-grade, capable of affecting only Qi Refining or Foundation Establishment cultivators at best.
For Xu Wanci, it might have been nothing more than an unattainable fantasy.
Duan Ziwei took a deep breath.
He couldn’t replace the tree, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enhance it!
With that thought, he deftly rummaged through his storage jade pendant for treasures that could elevate the tree’s grade.
Just as he pulled out a vial of Clear Transformation Spring, an almost inaudible voice spoke up:
“No need.”
Xu Wanci gazed at the towering Phantom Beauty Tree, her eyes downcast, her voice laced with bone-deep weariness:
“It’s no longer necessary.”
Hearing her words, an unfamiliar pang of bitterness surged in Duan Ziwei’s chest.
Was it because she now knew that person’s soul had scattered, leaving her unwilling to even deceive herself anymore?
Xu Wanci’s attention never once strayed toward Duan Ziwei. Her emotions flickered only for a moment before her voice regained its initial calm detachment:
“Young Master Duan, about the things in this courtyard…”
Before she could finish, Duan Ziwei caught her meaning.
In a flash, he bolted from the courtyard, his voice trailing behind him:
“I just remembered something urgent—I must go!”
Xu Wanci watched his retreating figure, her expression unchanged, though inwardly she sighed in relief.
She knew Duan Ziwei possessed countless rare treasures, and among them, there might indeed be something capable of upgrading the Phantom Beauty Tree.
An enhanced Phantom Beauty Tree would be far too unpredictable.
She couldn’t afford to leave behind even the slightest risk of exposing her lies.
Still—
Her eyes swept over the revitalized courtyard. Even aware of Duan Ziwei’s penchant for flaunting his wealth, she couldn’t help but marvel:
How… extravagantly wasteful.
Meanwhile, the so-called “extravagant wastrel” Duan Ziwei sprinted a considerable distance, terrified Xu Wanci might demand he retrieve the scattered treasures.
Ridiculous!
In all his years traversing the cultivation world, Young Master Duan had never once taken back what he’d given away!
Once sufficiently far from Xu Wanci’s courtyard, he finally slowed his pace.
Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he straightened his robes and adopted an air of nonchalance, strolling leisurely onward.
But after only a few steps, he spotted Liu Qiang leading a boisterous group toward him.
Duan Ziwei’s brow furrowed in disdain:
What were they doing here?
And making such a racket—didn’t they know someone on the Sword Peak was severely injured and needed quiet to recuperate?
Liu Qiang noticed Duan Ziwei too. Remembering his earlier actions, he puffed out his chest and hurried over obsequiously:
“Young Master Duan! What brings you here?”
Duan Ziwei waved him off irritably, signaling him to keep his distance:
“Why are you all on the Sword Peak?”
Liu Qiang halted obediently seven paces away, his face plastered with a sycophantic grin: “Well, I thought you’d—”
Catching himself, he hastily corrected, “No, I mean, we—”
“We couldn’t stand seeing Xu Wanci acting like nothing’s wrong, so we came to teach her a lesson.”
“To show her—”
Before he could finish, Duan Ziwei cut him off, his voice sharp with anger:
“You came to harass Xu Wanci?”
Liu Qiang blinked in confusion, about to nod when Duan Ziwei unleashed a torrent of scolding:
“Do you not realize Xu Wanci is still recovering from her injuries?”
“Do you not know internal conflict is forbidden among Taiqing Sect disciples?”
“Teach her a lesson? Even the elders of the Enforcement Hall haven’t spoken—who gave you the right?”
Liu Qiang stood dumbfounded:
Had Young Master Duan been possessed?
Since when had he become so… forgiving toward Xu Wanci?
But accustomed to his mercurial moods, Liu Qiang tentatively ventured:
“Then, Young Master Duan, should we… leave?”
Duan Ziwei shot him a sidelong glance. He was about to snap at him to scram when he recalled Xu Wanci’s current state.
She had barely survived the Soul-Severing Bone, her sword heart shattered, her will to live extinguished.
Even the weakest disciple could harm her now.
If others like this group came along—
Ahem—not that he believed a word of what Chu Qingchuan had said…
But still, attacking someone so gravely injured was utterly dishonorable.
With that, he arched a brow:
“You there, stand guard here. Don’t let anyone disturb Xu Wanci.”
Having issued the order, his frown finally eased.
He tossed a bottle of seventh-grade elixirs to Liu Qiang and sauntered off:
“Remember—not even a fly gets past you.”
Liu Qiang clutched the elixirs, his face creasing into a delighted grin:
“You got it!”
Back in her courtyard, Xu Wanci sat at the pristine obsidian table, calmly awaiting the promised trouble:
One cup of tea,
One stick of incense,
One full hour…
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, her doorstep remained deserted—not a soul, not a sound.
Xu Wanci: ???
