In the vast sky.
When Xiao Yuyan's figure appeared, the forces of the Heavenly Dao eerily fell silent.
They were waiting—waiting for the moment his body would truly collapse.
One more time would be enough.
Xiao Yuyan sensed the Heavenly Dao's power nearing his core and slowly closed his eyes:
He, too, was waiting for that moment of collapse.
Only then could he use his divine soul to extract all traces of the Heavenly Dao's power.
Only then could he truly appear by her side.
Not long after Xu Wanci awoke, the second barrier opened.
She felt the nearly depleted spiritual energy within her, her fingertips trembling faintly.
If this continued, her spiritual core would dissipate within a month.
By then, the dream would also end.
Her gaze shifted to the gradually expanding second barrier in the distance, and without hesitation, she rose and walked toward it:
If she could obtain a treasure imbued with immortal energy, the drain on her spiritual core would lessen significantly.
Then, perhaps... the dream could continue.
After the Mirror of the Heart's trial, she could no longer deceive herself.
A trace of obsession—one she recognized but chose not to suppress—flickered in Xu Wanci's eyes:
If her cultivation was strong enough, what did it matter if it was just a dream? Why not let it continue?
She had trained relentlessly to seize everything she desired.
Once, it had been freedom and survival.
Now, it was simply one more dream.
By now, many Venerables had already stepped into the barrier.
Xu Wanci met Ning Menglan and the elders' worried gazes and bowed firmly:
"Sect Leader, Elders, rest assured—I will protect myself."
She would survive. She would pass through the second barrier.
And she would claim the treasure.
For her cultivation, for ascension... and for the person in her dreams.
Ning Menglan's cultivation was insufficient, and burdened with the Taiqing Sect's administrative duties, he did not enter the barrier this time.
Standing outside, his eyes brimmed with unease.
He knew Xu Wanci too well—when she said she would "protect herself," it only meant she would stay alive.
Whether she was injured or how severe those injuries might be—she wouldn't care.
Taking a deep breath, Ning Menglan began mentally cataloging the healing treasures stored in the Taiqing Sect's vault.
When Xu Wanci stepped into the barrier, several Venerables were already inside.
Yet each looked disheveled, their bodies marred by bloody wounds.
And this was only moments after the barrier had opened.
Xu Wanci's nerves tightened. Without fully understanding the situation, she remained cautious.
While carefully probing her surroundings with her divine sense, she observed the Flame Venerable nearby.
The Flame Venerable was struggling against spatial blades assaulting him.
His movements were stiff, his once-mighty spiritual energy now nearly depleted—reduced to the level of a Qi Refining disciple, barely fending off blades that could wound a Nascent Soul cultivator.
In an instant, fresh gashes split his skin.
Watching his struggle and sensing the energy of the spatial blades, Xu Wanci's expression grew graver.
The power behind the blades attacking the Flame Venerable... came from himself.
Sure enough, the next moment, the spiritual energy he had just used to block the blades transformed into new blades—now sharper, stronger.
What had been Qi Refining-level energy now escalated to Foundation Establishment.
More wounds bloomed across the Flame Venerable's body.
Realizing the truth, Xu Wanci warned the Taiqing Sect elders behind her in a low voice:
"Do not use spiritual energy."
The elders, trusting her judgment, suppressed their instincts and remained still.
Even so, faint cuts still appeared on their skin.
When Xu Wanci saw the Grand Elder wounded merely from taking a single step, she understood—it wasn't just spiritual energy that turned against them.
Even the slightest movement, the faintest stir of air, could become a weapon.
Nearby, another Venerable also grasped the nature of the spatial blades:
If he refrained from using spiritual energy, the blades born from his movements alone were bearable.
He allowed the blades to strike him, advancing step by step.
One step, two, three...
Yet with each step, even without resistance, the blades grew exponentially stronger.
By the fifth step, their force was enough to tear his body apart.
With no other choice, he fled the barrier at full speed.
Even so, the blades nearly cleaved him in half.
The other Venerables who witnessed this shuddered in dread.
A hundred meters away, everyone could see the crystal controlling the entire barrier, yet no one could reach it, nor dared to test it with spiritual energy.
Xu Wanci also witnessed this scene. She restrained all her movements, even her breathing.
Beside her, the Second Elder gritted his teeth and said,
"This is bad. Even if we remain completely still within the barrier, we’ll still be attacked by spatial blades."
The Grand Elder’s voice was grave. "This wave of spatial blades is already equivalent to a strike from a Foundation Establishment cultivator."
If this continued, their situation would soon be no better than the other Venerables around them.
Hearing their words, Xu Wanci frowned almost imperceptibly.
From beginning to end, not a single wound had appeared on her body.
It was as if the spatial blades had ignored her entirely, leaving her unharmed.
She tentatively moved her right hand, the motion stirring a faint breeze.
One breath, two breaths…
The surroundings remained eerily calm.
Xu Wanci stared at the barrier crystal in the distance, her mind tense, yet her steps were resolute as she walked forward.
Seeing her move, Gu Yunqi beside her suddenly called out,
"Wanci!"
Before she could say more, she watched as Xu Wanci advanced unharmed, step by step.
Not only did the spatial blades fail to wound her—they didn’t even come within three feet of her.
Even the blades targeting other Venerables flickered past her, veering away as if avoiding her presence.
The other Venerables witnessed this as well, their eyes filled with unconcealed shock:
How was this possible?!
Why were the spatial blades in the barrier completely ineffective against Xu Wanci?
They glanced at their own battered bodies, barely recognizable, then at Xu Wanci—her robes pristine, not a speck of dust on her. A faint thread of envy coiled in their hearts:
The first layer of the barrier had been broken because of her sharp insight, uncovering its flaw.
But for the second layer… she had done nothing at all!
Could her spiritual energy somehow suppress the spatial blades?
Or had her actions in the first barrier affected the second?
Whatever the reason, one thing was certain:
Xu Wanci’s fortune was truly extraordinary.
Xu Wanci herself had no attention to spare for the others.
Even though no spatial blades had struck her yet, with each step she took, if one were to appear now, it would be fatal.
She moved forward cautiously, ready to retreat at any moment.
Yet when she finally reached the barrier crystal, there was still not the slightest ripple of spatial disturbance around her.
Behind her, all the cultivators—including the elders of the Taiqing Sect—continued to struggle desperately against the spatial blades.
Only she stood untouched at the heart of the barrier.
Xu Wanci shielded herself with spiritual energy and carefully reached out a hand.
The moment her fingers brushed the barrier crystal, it dissolved into nothingness.
Behind her, all movement abruptly ceased.
The second barrier had shattered, becoming just another part of the desolate wasteland.
In the distance, the third barrier stood tall and unyielding.
Now, the gazes the other Venerables cast toward Xu Wanci held not just respect, but a trace of awe.
After a round of flattery, everyone settled into silence, waiting for the third barrier to open.
Even though they knew the treasure within would almost certainly belong to Xu Wanci, none of them left.
However…
The Grand Elder studied the still-intact barrier, his voice tinged with caution:
"It’s already been twenty days."
The third barrier had lasted far longer than they had anticipated.
The Second Elder scanned their surroundings, deep in thought.
"It seems we’ll have to wait even longer for the third barrier."
A few Venerables had already chosen to depart.
Everyone had guessed the treasure’s eventual owner, and with sect affairs piling up, few could afford to waste more time here.
It would be better to return once the barrier finally opened.
For Xu Wanci, the longer the delay, the fewer competitors she would face.
By all logic, this should have been a good thing—and yet…
The Second Elder’s brow furrowed slightly as he observed Xu Wanci, her usual composure uncharacteristically unsettled:
"Wanci, she…"
The Grand Elder shook his head subtly, his voice so quiet only they could hear:
"In ten days, it will be the centennial of Immortal Venerable Qingyan’s sacrificial rite."
High above, a figure trembled faintly.
Down below, Xu Wanci felt the dwindling spiritual mass within her, shrinking day by day. She forced herself to unclench her fists.
It was fine.
She still had time.
Turning, she met Xie Tingbai’s concerned gaze and offered him a smile so calm it seemed devoid of all emotion:
"Seventh Elder, don’t worry. I’m fine."
Xie Tingbai watched the figure passing by him with a helpless and worried gaze:
He hadn’t even spoken yet…
For her, this was already an uncharacteristic loss of composure.
In the following days, Xu Wanci appeared calm on the surface, still diligently cultivating every day. Yet many could sense the emotional turmoil hidden beneath her serene facade.
Nine more days passed.
Xu Wanci felt the spiritual mass in her dantian, now transparent and on the verge of dissipating completely the next day, and pressed her lips tightly together.
Not far away, the third-layer barrier remained utterly unresponsive.
Gu Yunqi cautiously approached her, her voice laced with lingering concern:
"Wanci, are you alright?"
Xu Wanci stared blankly at her for a moment before seeming to snap back to reality. She replied softly,
"It’s nothing."
"I’ll be fine in a few days."
Once the spiritual mass vanished completely tomorrow, everything would return to normal.
Today was the only time she allowed herself to grieve for him.
Starting tomorrow, she would move forward again.
Continue cultivating, growing stronger, taking control of her own life.
She turned away with apparent calm, her left hand brushing against the trunk of a nearby tree.
Despite her Mahayana-level cultivation, the rough bark left a shallow cut on her skin.
High above, a figure clenched his fists abruptly.
He suddenly realized what he had forced himself to ignore before:
A hundred years ago, she had witnessed "his" departure with her own eyes.
What had she felt that day?
Xiao Yuyan stared at the temporal vortex in the distance—one that could only be traversed once more—and stepped toward it, one slow footfall at a time.
Gu Yunqi reached out to check Xu Wanci’s injury, but she evaded the touch with quiet detachment.
A surge of spiritual energy later, the wound on her hand healed completely.
Her voice carried a trace of exhaustion, barely perceptible:
"It’s just a minor scratch. Not worth the concern."
"Elder Gu, I’m tired. I’ll retire to my quarters now."
Xu Wanci didn’t even know when she had fallen asleep.
By the time she became aware again, she was already in a dream.
Despite it being midsummer, snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky.
Xu Wanci lifted her hand, her gaze dulled by confusion:
Why did the aura within the snow feel so familiar?
Was this… a gift from him in her dream?
Like that field of Rainbloom flowers from before.
When two versions of oneself met across time and space, one would fade into obscurity, unnoticed by anyone.
Xiao Yuyan watched as Xu Wanci’s eyes looked right through him, focusing instead on the falling snow around them. His hands trembled faintly, as if he couldn’t suppress the motion.
He heard his own voice—gentle, almost frantic in its coaxing:
"Wanwan, look at me."
"Don’t turn around."
Xu Wanci couldn’t see him. Couldn’t hear him.
Without hesitation, she turned—and there, against the sky, stood a figure clad in blue robes.
Amid the swirling darkness of the vortex, he was the only light.
Fierce winds howled, yet his outer robe fluttered softly. The aura of a Void-Shattering cultivator, mingling with the snow, swept across the entire cultivation world.
She couldn’t make out the expression on his face, but she could see the spiritual energy dissipating from his body, inch by inch. Could see his form slowly fading away.
Across the cultivation world, every cultivator knelt, heads bowed, unable to lift their gazes.
Only Xu Wanci remained standing, watching the scene with numb detachment.
Dark clouds gathered, the heavens on the verge of collapse.
One man’s sacrifice bought a century of peace.
So this was the scene from a hundred years ago—the moment Immortal Venerable Qingyan offered himself to the heavens.
Xu Wanci kept her head raised, motionless, until it was all gone. Until the black clouds receded. Until the sky turned blue once more.
Time lost meaning.
Eventually, she lowered her gaze to the snowflakes drifting around her.
A line from the original novel surfaced in her mind:
That day, it snowed across the cultivation world for an entire day.
Every snowflake carried a fragment of Immortal Venerable Qingyan’s scattered soul.
As if waking from a trance, she pressed a hand to her chest—then slowly, slowly clenched her fingers.
She, who had always endured pain without complaint, now curled inward, overcome by agony.
She sank to her knees, snowflakes settling on her like a shroud.
Snowflakes infused with that man’s soul.
Xiao Yuyan dropped to one knee before her. Desperation filled him as he tried to brush the snow from her shoulders, but his hands passed right through her.
The ache in his chest was so sharp it made his movements unsteady.
He cupped her face with a trembling hand, his voice rough:
"Wanwan, I’m here."
"I’ve always been here."
Then a tear fell—straight through his translucent palm.
His words cut off abruptly.
Xu Wanci stared blankly at the droplet on the ground, pain and emptiness spreading through her body like poison:
Her dream was ending.
Amid the swirling snow, a transparent figure leaned forward, carefully wrapping his arms around the woman before him.
The blizzard swallowed everything—the tear, the traces of their presence, all of it.
Behind them, Luoyu Peak began a century-long slumber, sealed away from the world.
