Qingyan lowered his gaze for a long moment before speaking faintly: “You are rather open‑minded.”
Taking advantage of his silence, Yu Sang‑sang happily took two more bites of the delicious meat. A handsome man paired with savory roast—what kind of heavenly day was this!
At that moment, the puppet came forward with more food. Yu Sang‑sang accepted the platter obediently and said, “Thank you, sister.”
The puppet turned and walked away, her steps lighter than before in Qingyan’s eyes. Serving the icy Sword Sovereign every day was like attending a funeral; even a puppet with little intelligence had begun to feel life was unbearable. Only a sweet, lively girl could bring a trace of warmth to that cold body.
For an instant, Qingyan doubted his own skill in crafting puppets. Had he created some strange monster? His gaze shifted from the puppet—whose demeanor had grown oddly different since the girl’s arrival—back to Yu Sang‑sang, who was once again gnawing on her roast. Eating and drinking without restraint, as though she had come to feast at another’s expense!
Yet watching her eat so heartily, even dishes that usually seemed dull appeared fragrant. The beautiful man turned his eyes away and asked calmly, “Do you know of the Heavenly Pillars?”
“Yes!” Yu Sang‑sang hugged her roast, feeling the Sword Sovereign’s wandering gaze. It almost seemed like he wanted a taste himself. But since he was master of the house, he hardly needed her invitation. She hesitated, then chose not to offer. Still, she knew the answer to his question.
Born in this world, how could one not know of the Heavenly Pillars that uphold all realms? Not only this world, but even smaller realms possessed their own pillars. Yu Sang‑sang had read many descriptions of them in Old Wang’s travel notes.
Instinctively, she followed the Sword Sovereign’s gaze beyond the pavilion, as though through the distant space she could glimpse colossal supports piercing sky and earth. They resembled towering mountains.
Though the pavilion itself stood atop a lofty peak, those faraway summits—dim and indistinct—still rose higher, seeming to pierce the heavens and brace the world, opening the space in which living beings could survive.
These were the Heavenly Pillars.
According to legend, ten thousand years ago, the realms suffered a great calamity: the heavens collapsed, the earth cracked, and the sky sank toward the ground. Had heaven and earth joined, all living beings would have perished. In that catastrophe, many mighty figures used their immense power to forge pillars that held apart heaven and earth, saving the realms. These supports came to be called the Heavenly Pillars.
Yu Sang‑sang rubbed her forehead, recalling that she had heard of them even within the story itself. Among her maternal family, the Jing clan, there was once a formidable female immortal named Fairy Suwen.
She had been one of the heroes who created the Heavenly Pillars and saved all living beings. Yet in forging them, Fairy Suwen exhausted her strength and fell within the greatest and most vital pillar of this world.
Because of her sacrifice, the Jing clan had long enjoyed the special regard and favor of the Taisu Sect.
The Heavenly Pillars were not conjured out of nothing.
Qingyan Sword Sovereign had already learned of Yu Sang‑sang’s background and her ties to the Taisu Sect, so he naturally knew she was descended from powerful figures. Yet he was always indifferent, uninterested in her lineage. What surprised him was that someone from a family once linked to the Heavenly Pillars knew only the common tales passed among ordinary cultivators, without grasping their true origin. He frowned slightly, suspecting that the Jing clan’s inheritance had been broken. Still, today’s matter had little to do with that. He simply said: “The source of the Heavenly Pillars actually lies in the demons beyond this realm.”
That, she truly did not know.
Yu Sang‑sang’s mouth fell open as she listened in a daze. “Demons? The demon race?”
“Not the demons of this world,” he clarified. “Here, all beings—whether human, beast cultivators, or even demons—dwell together in this realm. Though there are disputes of power, they still acknowledge one another’s existence. So‑called ‘demonic cultivators’ are not spoken of here with fear and loathing.”
So the two must not be confused.
Qingyan shook his head and said, “Ten thousand years ago, from the chaos beyond the realms was born a kind of monster—nurtured by heaven and earth itself. Its form was hideous and terrifying, its powers immense, impervious to ordinary immortal arts.”
Yu Sang‑sang had never expected to hear such a myth. She forgot her food entirely, listening intently.
“These demon‑gods were by nature violent, without awakened intelligence, beyond teaching or guidance. They knew only destruction and slaughter. When they broke into the realms from beyond, they came like a flood, annihilating all things. The beings of the realms could not simply await death, and their battles against the demon‑gods were bitter and desperate.”
Most of these outer demon‑gods had skin thick and flesh tough; ordinary immortal arts barely scratched them, and common flying swords could not pierce their hide. Fortunately, they remained chaotic and mindless, acting only on instinct, unable to match the ingenuity of the living beings of the realms.
Thus, the struggle dragged on for countless ages. The demon‑gods gradually weakened, but the realms suffered grievous losses. In the end, after years of ceaseless war and devastation, the realms themselves began to collapse, heaven and earth shattering.
When the sky seemed about to fall, saviors arose. They devised a method: forcing out the demon‑gods’ vast manifestations of heaven and earth, then sealing and solidifying them. Those colossal manifestations stretched sky to ground, propping up the world itself. The sealed demon‑gods slowly lost vitality, leaving only their husks to support heaven and earth—repaying their own sins with their bodies.
Yet because the Heavenly Pillars were born of demon‑gods, the truth was hidden from common cultivators, lest they be filled with fear.
But Yu Sang‑sang, descended from Fairy Suwen’s clan that once fought the demon‑gods, ought to have known. So Qingyan did not bother to conceal it from her.
“Outer demon‑gods…” Yu Sang‑sang murmured, her eyes unfocused. She felt as though she had heard of them before—perhaps even faced them herself. Those vast, sinister beings… she almost longed to confront them. A sudden pain in her finger snapped her back. From the silver bracelet on her wrist timidly poked out a tiny phoenix head, which nipped her with all its courage.
The little creature trembled under Qingyan’s gaze, then quickly withdrew.
Qingyan Sword Sovereign: … Did he look like some fiend who slaughtered everything he saw?
“So, about the Heavenly Pillars…” Stroking her timid phoenix’s head, Yu Sang‑sang coughed twice to divert his attention. Her mind cleared, and she asked curiously, “Did Sword Sovereign mention the Heavenly Pillars because the baleful qi is connected to them?” She gave herself a mental pat for her cleverness.
Qingyan glanced at her small, proud face, cheeks flushed, then turned his eyes away and said calmly: “That baleful qi originates from the Heavenly Pillars—it is the resentment and hatred of the sealed outer demon‑gods leaking into this world.”
Though sealed, the demon‑gods were not wholly extinguished. Their instinct to destroy the realms remained, along with the bitterness of being forced to uphold heaven and earth. Those chosen as Heavenly Pillars were all immensely powerful; otherwise, they could not have manifested forms spanning sky and earth. Born of outer chaos, their turbid energy far surpassed the world’s spiritual qi. Thus, baleful qi is a supremely malignant force. Even the slightest taint can corrupt a cultivator, turning them into a soulless monster. That would no longer be the cultivator himself— only an empty shell remained.
Yu Sang‑sang instinctively touched herself, uneasy. “Those demon‑gods… they weren’t completely destroyed?” she asked hesitantly. “Why weren’t they annihilated back then?”
“After countless years of battle, the beings of this realm were already exhausted, unable to utterly eradicate them. And once sealed, the demon‑gods were no different from fallen, unable to break free.”
Too many mighty figures had perished in those struggles; at that time, strength was simply insufficient. Moreover, the seal was the crystallization of countless sages’ wisdom. The outer demon‑gods, knowing only brute force and lacking intelligence, could never escape it.
Qingyan said calmly, “Besides, to guard against mishap, beside every Heavenly Pillar stands the descendants of those who sealed it, generation after generation. These families hold artifacts that restrain the demon‑gods.”
He frowned slightly. “The baleful qi is a by‑product of the Pillars. Normally, those families would seal it back into the Pillars so it would not spread into the cultivation world.”
“Then how…” Yu Sang‑sang wondered aloud. “How did I end up tainted?”
“There are those who defend this realm against the demon‑gods,” Qingyan said coldly, “and there are those who worship them, treating the demon‑gods as totems.”
The cultivation world is vast—there are all kinds of fools. Some cultivators actually admired the demon‑gods’ power to destroy heaven and earth. Utterly senseless. Yet over ten thousand years, such people were not few. They even gathered into a secret faction, bent on reviving the demon‑gods. Since such people existed, they studied the Pillars formed from demon‑gods, seeking to break the seals and unleash them again. Naturally, they also researched the calamities spawned by the Pillars.
Though each Pillar was guarded, these zealots still found loopholes, stealing fragments of the demon‑gods’ essence. That is how the baleful qi came to be.
But these heretics acted in secret, with great caution. And baleful qi was no common cabbage in the marketplace—it was rare and precious, seldom used. Especially a brocade pouch that could contain baleful qi without harming its bearer—such an item was a treasure. That was why Wei Li had not been harmed by it.
Yu Sang‑sang stroked the precious pouch in her arms, eyes wide. “So rare a treasure, and Wei Li actually…” No wonder Qingyan, after hearing her account, had sent Yin Mingjing to investigate Wei Li’s possible future master. She asked nervously, “Will Yin Mingjing be safe going alone?”
Reviving demon‑gods to destroy the cultivation world—just the thought was insane. Though Yin Mingjing’s cultivation was formidable, facing madmen was worrying.
“The baleful qi is no trivial matter. Last night I saw how much of it covered you…” Qingyan’s voice was grave. Those zealots had secretly hoarded their prize, and it seemed they had poured it all onto Yu Sang‑sang. So much of it.
Yu Sang‑sang instinctively covered her mouth. Even knowing her situation was dangerous, she couldn’t help recalling the rich, mellow taste from last night. She knew it wasn’t anything good. And yet… It was delicious!