Xie Jingci had a silver tongue and effortlessly gathered information about this place.
The town was called Wucheng, a border city within the Ghost Domain, guarded by a demonic cultivator named Jiang Tu, who had reached the Nascent Soul stage.
As for where she currently stood, it was the largest martial arts hall in Wucheng, known as [Heavenly Evolution Dao].
"In the Black Tortoise Arena, winners naturally receive rewards, but not just anyone can enter this arena."
The demoness she had questioned was quite talkative. Leading Xie Jingci to the entrance, she leaned against the doorframe while watching the lingering crowd disperse, chattering away: "What’s your cultivation level? Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you’re not at least at the Foundation Establishment stage, the hall won’t let you fight."
Xie Jingci hesitated briefly before replying softly, "Foundation Establishment… I should have that."
The Black Tortoise Arena was an illusionary realm woven from spiritual consciousness. Though her old injuries had greatly diminished her strength, her spiritual sea remained intact—perhaps still as formidable as before.
In other words, once she entered the Black Tortoise Arena, Xie Jingci might very well regain her Golden Core cultivation.
This thought brought her a flicker of joy, causing a slight pause in her speech.
The momentary hesitation was subtle but keenly noticed by the woman beside her. Without showing any reaction, she quickly formed her own assumptions.
This unfamiliar young lady must be a wealthy girl from another city, given that the Ghost Gate hadn’t officially opened yet.
As for her cultivation, the hesitation likely meant she had just stepped into Foundation Establishment or was at the peak of Qi Refinement, lacking confidence in her abilities.
Clearly inexperienced and just here for some excitement.
"Even if you’ve reached Foundation Establishment, you’ll still need the hall’s approval to enter the arena."
The woman spoke leisurely, then pointed to a corner of the hall.
The martial arts hall was vast. Aside from the enormous mirror at its center, the sparring rings and smaller mirrors lining both sides were equally eye-catching.
Those at the Qi Refinement stage usually fought in the rings, while higher-level cultivators could compete within the Black Tortoise Arena, their battles projected through the smaller mirrors.
Most of the bustling crowd had already dispersed. In the corner the woman indicated stood several tall, burly young men.
Unlike the onlookers, they were clearly seasoned fighters with considerable cultivation. Even with their killing intent and spiritual energy restrained, an invisible aura of intimidation radiated from them.
"Those are the hall master’s disciples. To step onto the arena, you’ll need to defeat at least one of them."
The woman continued, "Most are at the Foundation Establishment stage, and exceptional ones like Mo Xiaoyang have even reached the Golden Core realm. With your level, facing any of them would be like an egg smashing against a rock."
The rule wasn’t hard to understand.
Today’s event was a major tournament drawing public attention, so no spirit crystals were charged for entry. On ordinary days, spectators paid to watch, and they certainly wouldn’t want to see amateurs scratching at each other.
The woman explained everything smoothly, expecting the girl to back off. Instead, Xie Jingci remained unfazed and casually asked, "Golden Core? Which layer is he at?"
The woman chuckled.
No matter which layer Mo Xiaoyang had reached, it wasn’t something this girl needed to worry about—
She’d learn the harsh realities of the world from the fists of others long before she ever faced him. And Mo Xiaoyang would never waste his time on a pampered, low-level young miss.
"Probably around the fourth or fifth layer."
The woman crossed her arms and gave her a look, raising an eyebrow. "Since you’ve sought me out, let’s consider it fate. I’m on good terms with this hall—follow me."
With that, she strode toward the disciples, Xie Jingci obediently trailing behind. "My name is Xie Jingci. May I ask how I should address you, sister?"
"Shen Que. You can call me—"
Before she could finish, a clear young voice called out from the corner, "Que-jie!"
Xie Jingci glanced over—it was one of the young disciples.
"Just like that."
Shen Que shrugged with a smile, then called out, "Congratulations to Xiaoyang for his victory today."
One of the youths replied proudly, "Senior Brother is still Senior Brother. Aside from Master, I don’t know anyone in Wucheng who can beat him."
Shen Que nodded. "It was indeed a spectacular match. My young friend here was so captivated that she’d like to try a spar herself. What do you all think?"
The moment the words left her mouth, all eyes turned to Xie Jingci.
Her striking looks had already drawn covert glances from many cultivators earlier. Now that Shen Que directed attention to her, the young men openly studied her.
The girl had concealed her aura, making her exact cultivation level unclear. With thin lips pressed into a faint smile, she stood silently, effortlessly standing out from everyone around her.
She inclined her head. "Pardon the intrusion. I am Xie Jingci."
"She’s likely at the early Foundation Establishment stage, maybe not even there yet, and this is her first time at the hall—she knows nothing."
Shen Que used spiritual transmission to relay this to the disciples, deliberately keeping Xie Jingci from hearing. "Whoever steps up, remember to hold back. Don’t scare the poor girl."
The youths exchanged glances.
Each was confident in their ability to win. If they could show off their skills in front of a beauty, they might even win her favor—
What a rare, heaven-sent opportunity! Go forth, brave youths, and create miracles!
The silence lasted only a moment before a young man in white stepped forward. "I’ll do it."
He shot Shen Que a discreet thumbs-up. "Don’t worry, Que-jie. I know how to be gentle."
By now, most of the spectators had left, though some, inspired by the matches, had begun sparring in small groups. The only remaining platform was a spiritual altar at the far end of the hall.
The Black Tortoise Arena required contact with the altar through spiritual consciousness to enter.
After giving his name, the young man led Xie Jingci toward it. Shen Que meant to follow, but another disciple suddenly called out, "Master! Senior Brother!"
The newcomers were none other than the newly victorious Mo Xiaoyang and the hall master, Zhou Shen.
"Ah, everyone’s here!"
Zhou Shen had a boyish face that belied his age. Despite being old enough to turn to dust, he still looked like a man in his twenties, grinning broadly. "Xiaoyang’s won today—let’s go celebrate with a few drinks! Shen Que, you coming?"
A junior disciple chimed in, "Que-jie brought a girl here. She’s sparring with Senior Brother Cen now."
Zhou Shen raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"That girl’s no expert. It won’t take long. I just brought her along for fun since it’s her first time."
Shen Que lazily glanced toward the altar at the far end, her brow quirking.
Xie Jingci was unknown, but her looks were striking enough to draw attention. Her opponent, a disciple of the hall, was no weakling.
The pairing of these two was downright bizarre. A few idle onlookers stood by the spirit platform, watching with amusement.
As soon as she finished speaking, someone in front of the circular mirror exclaimed, "Holy—! One move! She took him down in one move! Did anyone even see what happened?"
Shen Que's eye twitched.
That guy had sworn up and down he’d go easy on her—
And this was his idea of "going easy"?
The girl had looked so confident earlier. Shen Que could only hope she wouldn’t burst into tears when she came out.
Her temple throbbed as she stepped forward.
In the Mysterious Tortoise Realm, one’s consciousness detached from the body, leaving it motionless on the spirit platform. Those defeated in the illusion would wake up first, their eyes snapping open.
Yet Xie Jingci remained utterly still, not even a flicker of her eyelids.
Shen Que paused mid-step.
…No way.
She was too far from the platform to see the mirror’s reflection clearly, so she shifted her gaze slightly to the young man beside it.
The moment she looked over, she met a pair of utterly bewildered eyes.
Shen Que: …?
At the same time, another voice rose from the mirror: "That guy didn’t even have a chance to fight back—her blade was insane. What the hell was that?"
What was going on?
Had that girl… really taken down Zhou Shen’s disciple in one move?
The young man on the platform looked dazed, his steps unsteady as he descended, as if his soul had been drained from his body.
He’d gone in, gotten one-shot, and that was that.
"She said," the boy pointed behind him at the spirit platform, "next."
Shen Que stared blankly at the circular mirror.
Within the illusion, amidst mountains and rivers, stood a slender girl at the peak’s center, gripping a straight black blade. The cold gleam of the weapon traced serpentine wisps of dark energy.
Xie Jingci couldn’t sense their gazes, but she suddenly looked up and waved in their direction.
Xie Jingci was disappointed.
She’d thought entering the Mysterious Tortoise Realm would restore her strength to its former level, but at best, she’d barely brushed the threshold of the Golden Core stage—
Traversing between minor realms took a toll on one’s spiritual consciousness. Worse, she’d only just returned to this body, her spirit still scattered and not fully integrated. A few more fights might help speed up the fusion.
If it were Pei Du, maybe…
Her thoughts were cut short as a surge of spiritual energy flickered before her.
The newcomer was another disciple from the martial hall. Xie Jingci vaguely recognized him and smiled faintly. "I look forward to your guidance, fellow cultivator."
The young man nodded, giving a brief introduction, though his curiosity was impossible to hide.
The previous challenger, Junior Brother Cen, had been impulsive and not particularly strong, but he was by no means weak.
Given how utterly crushed he’d looked after his defeat, it was unlikely he’d thrown the match to impress her.
His loss had to be due to underestimating her and getting caught off guard.
He wouldn’t make such a rookie mistake.
There was no need for pleasantries in a duel between cultivators—the battle began the moment they clashed.
The young man had reached the sixth level of the Foundation Establishment stage. When he drew his sword, a cold light flashed.
"How did you lose in one move?" Zhou Shen studied his disciple with amusement. "Did you let your guard down?"
"Her blade technique was unlike anything I’ve ever seen—bizarre and unpredictable. I was careless, but… I was simply outmatched. I admit defeat."
A crowd had begun to gather, murmurs growing louder.
"Who do you think will win this round?"
"My guess? She only took down Brother Cen so fast because she caught him by surprise. If you can dodge that blade, your odds improve drastically."
"Easier said than done. I couldn’t even track her movements—how do you dodge that?"
Outside the illusion, the chatter was lively, but within the Mysterious Tortoise Realm, silence reigned.
Xie Jingci was holding back.
She wasn’t one for showing off, and her body hadn’t truly reached the Golden Core stage yet. Flaunting her skills here would only invite unnecessary trouble.
The young man’s swordplay was righteous and imposing, strikingly similar to Mo Xiaoyang’s style from the mirror earlier—they must have trained under the same master.
By comparison, her blade technique really did carry the air of a "demonic cult enchantress."
This straight blade, "Ghost’s Wail," was a notorious weapon steeped in bloodshed. The Xie family had tempered and suppressed its restless malice through reforging before it could be safely wielded.
Ghost’s Wail sliced through the air, clashing against the sword with a deafening clang. The impact sent both fighters stumbling back a step.
Xie Jingci’s palm stung from the recoil. She steadied her breathing, watching as the young man frowned and raised his sword again.
His movements were swift and efficient, every slash carrying earth-shattering force. As his blade rose and fell, the mountain mist condensed around him.
The sword’s energy came like a storm. Xie Jingci dodged sideways, her blade arcing up to meet the sword’s tip once more.
This time, neither retreated.
The blade’s aura was lethal, fast as lightning. Sunlight and the saber’s afterimages intertwined, hiding deadly intent within the chaotic light.
Wind surged from the ground, howling between blade and sword.
Xie Jingci’s footwork was ghostly, impossible for ordinary eyes to follow. The young man was already struggling to keep up. She wasn’t fighting to kill—this was more of a warm-up than a life-or-death duel.
Back in Ghost Tomb, she’d tangled with those two bandits, but their cultivation had been too low to make it satisfying.
Only now did Xie Jingci finally reconnect with that long-lost, nearly forgotten sensation.
The bloodlust born from drawing her blade.
Exhilarating, unstoppable, like falling embers igniting every meridian in her body, sending shivers down her spine.
Clouds swirled around the mountaintop, her long skirt fluttering as currents of energy spiraled around her.
The instant the sword threatened to pierce her abdomen, the blade-wielding cultivator twisted slightly—then flicked her wrist.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd outside the mirror.
Without warning, using the momentum of that precise motion, the young man’s sword…
Was sent flying straight out of his grip.
"My god," someone muttered. "Did anyone catch their moves just now?"
"How could we? But… his sword got knocked away. That means he lost, right?"
"So… the girl won?"
"Obviously! She won! Where did she even come from? That blade technique is something else!"
Shen Que was dumbfounded.
A junior disciple pointed at the mirror, his lips twitching. "Foundation Establishment, early stage?"
Zhou Shen, the hall master, mused, "Not a big deal, huh?"
The one-hit-wonder, Brother Cen, looked utterly shattered. "Going easy on her???"
That woman had zero mercy!
Xie Jingci still needed to return to the cave to check on Pei Du, so she withdrew after just two matches.
When she’d entered the Mysterious Tortoise Realm, the place had been empty and quiet. But when she opened her eyes again, she was met with a sea of bobbing heads.
For a second, she wondered if the system had glitched and sent her into another accidental transmigration—until she heard the young man beside her speak with forced calm.
"Master."
Master.
Xie Jingci followed his gaze and saw a tall young man with delicate, boyish features.
Shen Que enthusiastically introduced him: "This is the master of the Tianyan Dojo, Zhou Shen."
Zhou Shen smiled and nodded. "Miss Xie."
His expression was calm, but Xie Jingci froze upon hearing his name.
A swordsman, dwelling in the Ghost Domain, and seemingly of considerable cultivation.
Xie Jingci felt her heartbeat suddenly quicken. "Y-you… Could you be the legendary 'Sword of the Nether Prison,' Zhou Shen?"
Zhou Shen blinked, then burst into laughter. "That’s a title from decades ago—I’m surprised you even remember it. Please, don’t call me that. It’s embarrassing."
"I’ve read about your exploits in storybooks. All your heroic deeds in the Ghost Domain were recorded."
Xie Jingci lowered her head, rummaged through her storage pouch, and pulled out a yellowed old book. "Here it is!"
Zhou Shen had only meant to observe the commotion, never expecting to encounter a fan. Flustered, his cheeks reddened as he accepted the book from her hands.
The onlookers, who had never seen the dojo master blush before, immediately erupted into teasing laughter. "Master Zhou, why don’t you read it aloud for us?"
Zhou Shen shot them an exasperated glare, but in his distraction, the book was snatched away by someone else—
Mo Xiaoyang, standing beside him, grinned and flipped open the pages.
"Quiet, quiet! I’ll do the honors!"
Though barely literate, his admiration for his master was boundless, and he read with dramatic flair: "Behold, Zhou Shen charged through Liu Meishan seven times, cutting down foes left and right, a true display of manly valor!"
The young cultivators around them cheered enthusiastically. "Bravo!!!"
Zhou Shen himself flushed crimson, scratching his head with an awkward chuckle.
Xie Jingci, still starstruck, couldn’t help but beam—until Mo Xiaoyang’s next words made her freeze mid-step:
"Zhou Shen stood unyielding, but Liu Meishan was no ordinary opponent, matching him blow for blow!"
Wait.
"Zhou Shen charged through Liu Meishan seven times"—but according to this line, Liu Meishan… wasn’t a mountain?!
Xie Jingci’s eyes widened in sudden realization as she looked up.
The atmosphere grew noticeably tense. Most hadn’t caught the implication, still clapping and cheering. "Well done! Amazing!"
Her gaze dropped heavily to the title page of the book in Mo Xiaoyang’s hands.
—Amazing, my foot!
The cover clearly displayed bold characters—but it wasn’t the Life-and-Death Battles of the Ghost Domain she remembered.
Help! This was a bootleg copy of Love and Death in the Ghost Domain!
Xie Jingci could already recall the upcoming plot.
Lines like "Liu Meishan’s silver tongue danced, while Zhou Shen brandished his spear."
Or "Liu Meishan, breathless, mustered her last strength: 'Don’t spend ten years honing your sword—lest the iron rod be ground down to a needle! Finish this quickly!'"
And then "Zhou Shen laughed wildly, standing firm as a rooster: 'Patience! You are as vast as the sea—let me fill you like the mythical bird Jingwei!'"
Xie Jingci: "..."
What nonsense! What did idioms ever do to you, author? Why must you torture them like this?!
The disciple reading the book didn’t seem the sharpest, bouncing around like an overexcited monkey.
Xie Jingci hurried forward, cutting him off before he could recite more. "This part describes how Master Zhou clashed with the demoness Liu Meishan, striking her seven times with his sword. But there are far more thrilling sections—like the Siege of Dragonlock Valley or the final battle at Mourning Sun Tower! Master Zhou, splendid!"
Mo Xiaoyang led the applause. "Splendid!"
Everyone else: "Brilliant! Magnificent!"
"Today’s tale has truly stirred my blood."
Mo Xiaoyang clenched his fists, a man who usually despised reading now feeling the power of words for the first time. He slapped his junior brother’s shoulder. "Care for a spar tomorrow? When I stand firm as a rooster and charge seven times, you must summon all your strength—don’t let my beloved sword be ground down to a needle! Hah!"
In that instant.
The entire dojo fell silent.
Zhou Shen opened his mouth, then closed it. His pupils morphed from circles to squares, finally settling into trembling hexagons.
Never had his gaze been so twisted—and so utterly horrified.
