What left Yu Sangsang utterly stunned was this—since Old Wang had insisted on handing her that crystal sphere, forcing it into her hands, did that mean… He suspected she had taken over another’s body? Had she already been exposed so soon?
One had to admit, the old man truly lived up to his past as Grand Steward of the imperial palace. Though fallen from power and reduced to obscurity, his sharpness remained intact.
Yu Sangsang had only been here three days, yet he already harbored doubts about her. Such keen perception. And indeed, it made sense.
Yu Sangsang’s temperament was clearly very different from Yu Xian’er’s.
No matter how hard she tried to imitate the memories left behind, little slips inevitably showed through.
In the deathly stillness of the imperial mausoleum—where even the wind seemed frozen—the beautiful young girl lifted her head slightly, gazing at the old man outside the window, who looked so humble before her.
Feigning calm, she smiled faintly and extended her hand. “Thank you.” She steadied her nerves, all the while discreetly scanning the empty surroundings.
Beneath the silence, she could not shake the sense of lurking danger.
That crystal sphere was indeed a spiritual artifact used to test whether one’s body had been possessed. Naturally, it was a rare and precious item—even in the old games where immortals and demons roamed freely, such things sold for an exorbitant price.
Though she had only just crossed into this cultivation world and knew little of its ways, Yu Sangsang was certain this was no common trinket one could casually own, which made it all the more puzzling.
According to Yu Xian’er’s memories, though she was nominally a princess and her father styled himself “King,” in truth Dayu was but a tiny kingdom, tucked away in some remote corner of the cultivation realm. This land was hardly prosperous. Cultivators here were few and far between. In recent decades, the strongest among them had been her grandfather, who reached the Golden Core stage. After his death, her father remained stuck at the mere level of Foundation Establishment.
Foundation Establishment… so pitifully weak it was almost unbearable to watch. If she had her main account, she could blink and force that useless father to reincarnate. But now she was stuck with a “three‑no” alt account—no cultivation, no techniques, no foundation. Even if her body’s attributes were maxed out, talent alone meant nothing without a proper cultivation method.
Just like the old man bowing humbly before her—though he looked frail and trembling with age—the faint ripple of spiritual energy around him told Yu Sangsang this was not someone she could possibly contend with.
Cornered inside the room, with no chance of outrunning this elder who was clearly a cultivator, Yu Sangsang put on an award‑winning smile, the kind of performance only a seasoned actress could manage, and clasped the crystal sphere in her hand. The sphere felt smooth and warm to the touch. The instant her fingers closed around it, mist began to swirl and churn within.
Almost simultaneously, both of them fixed their eyes on the glowing sphere. After a long moment of scrutiny, nothing changed.
Yu Sangsang exhaled in relief, though doubt lingered in her heart. She didn’t know the rules of this cultivation world. But in her game, this “Spirit‑Revealing Sphere” was an artifact far beyond ordinary standards. It defied logic, an uncompromising tool that even immortals could not deceive. Even at the immortal stage, if one had seized another’s body, the sphere would expose it without fail. Once possession was detected, the mist inside would turn blood‑red—symbolizing the bloody karmic bond between the possessor and the possessed.
Judging by the old steward’s expression, he clearly trusted the sphere’s verdict.
Yu Sangsang, who had just been plotting her escape, now rubbed the sphere curiously and glanced at Old Wang. She saw him staring intently at the mist—untouched by any trace of red—then looking back at her with a dazed, almost regretful expression. In his clouded eyes flickered the unmistakable look of someone realizing he had “lost out.”
He stammered, “This old servant must have misremembered… This Spirit‑Revealing… sphere, it—it’s enshrined in the ancestral temple. It’s Dayu’s greatest treasure.”
Rubbing his hands together, his back bent even lower under her innocent gaze, he forced a smile and said, “This isn’t something you can just play with. So… perhaps you could… return it to this old servant?”
Oh dear. Once a treasure is given, how can it be taken back? How stingy.
Yu Sangsang tightened her grip ever so slightly on the priceless treasure.
A penniless princess needed treasures!
“Our Dayu ancestors…”
“Return it… please.”
The old man invoked her forebears.
Though she had no impression of those ancestors she had never met, she had just inherited their granddaughter’s body—there was karmic weight in that. And besides, the old steward looked so pitiful. Even if he hadn’t shown her much kindness during their shared exile in the mausoleum, Yu Sangsang still remembered: once upon a time, he had been the most trusted servant of Dayu’s former king. Perhaps he was not truly loyal to her, always yearning to return to the palace of Dayu. But to the former king, he had indeed been faithful. For that alone, she would not treat him harshly. After all, though most of her seventeen years had been marked by her father’s neglect and disdain, she still remembered her grandfather from her earliest days. The kindly old man who doted on her, laughing heartily and promising his little granddaughter a life free of worries. The proud elder who once held her in his arms and insisted every minister praise the child he carried—her dearest, most beloved grandfather.
Yu Sangsang lifted her gaze, placed the crystal sphere into the old steward’s hands, and looked past him toward the distant, solemn stone tablets. Exiled to the mausoleum, surrounded only by silence and the “ancestors.”
To Yu Sangsang, it felt like a cruel injustice. But to Yu Xian’er, it had not been so. Her life here was hard. Everyone knew she had fallen from favor.
The King of Dayu quickly remarried the consort he adored. And in the fourteen years since, the great sect her mother had once relied upon never sent a single person to her aid, as if they too had erased her from memory. Opportunists no longer cared for a princess with nothing but bloodline, and even her daily provisions were meager. Yet despite all this, Yu Xian’er had chosen to remain in the mausoleum. Because here dwelled those she loved.
Her grandfather. Her mother’s memorial tablet. They were here. And Yu Xian’er was willing to stay, to honor them with her devotion.
That was the difference between Yu Xian’er and Yu Sangsang.
The body’s former owner had been pure‑hearted, striving to be kind to everyone. But if it were Yu Sangsang, the first thing she would do—once she had the strength—would be to storm the palace, seize the throne, and crown herself Empress. Then she would cast her father into the mausoleum, let him taste what it meant to be “out of favor,” abandoned by all. Of course, that was far beyond the reach of the current Yu Sangsang, who didn’t even have a cultivation method. For now, she was just a powerless princess. She smiled again at the dazed Old Wang.
The old steward accepted the sphere with both hands, facing the princess whose nature seemed unchanged—still simple, still unwilling to make things difficult for others.
It was indeed Yu Xian’er’s temperament. And with the crystal sphere confirming she had not been possessed, his doubts quickly faded. Forcing another smile, he said, “Then please rest, my lady. This old servant will have some refreshments brought to you.”
The so‑called refreshments were simple, looking as though they had been purchased outside.
Yu Sangsang nodded and thanked him with practiced ease. Though she was forbidden to leave the mausoleum, the guards and servants stationed there were occasionally allowed out to purchase supplies. Most of those sent here were people who had fallen from favor, with little silver to their names.
Yu Sangsang herself had no money. All her life, she had relied solely on the meager provisions allotted by the King of Dayu to those living in the mausoleum.
The king did not entirely neglect them—after all, this was the resting place of his ancestors. He had to feed the caretakers, lest the mausoleum fall into ruin. If he truly abandoned even the mausoleum, wouldn’t that make her father nothing short of a beast? Though, truth be told, he was already a little better. It wasn’t merely his cruelty to his daughter that stirred Yu Sangsang’s resentment. It was the memory of her mother: the gentle woman from a proud clan, who had died—and within ten days, the King of Dayu had remarried. So swift a remarriage could only mean hidden motives.
“Since you enjoy toys…” The frail old steward, pausing on his way to fetch refreshments, glanced at the crystal sphere in his hand. Perhaps recalling the princess’s dull daily life, he hesitated, then rummaged in his patched robe. He drew out a scroll and slowly handed it to Yu Sang‑sang, who accepted it with a bright smile. “You can read, eat your snacks… Did you finish the book I gave you last time?”
Perhaps the loyal servant still held some genuine affection for the bloodline of his former master. Over the years, whenever Old Wang was permitted to go out, he always brought back travelogues from various corners of the cultivation world for Yu Xian’er. But for Yu Sangsang, they were useless. Those records described other realms, not this one.
“I finished it.” Remembering that the old man had even used the precious Spirit‑Revealing Sphere to test whether she had possessed his princess’s body, Yu Sang‑sang felt emboldened.
Tentatively, she asked, “Old Wang, I’m already seventeen. I should be cultivating. Do you know where my mother’s cultivation method was left?”
This was, after all, the cultivation world, where the strong were cultivators. The Yu clan had founded a kingdom; naturally, many of them were cultivators. Even if this small nation was poor and shallow‑rooted, with most of its practitioners stuck at the Qi Refining stage, cultivators were still different from mortals. For a princess of Dayu’s royal blood to reach seventeen without cultivating was far from normal. Even if her wretched father refused to let her practice the Yu clan’s methods, her mother had been a cultivator too—born of a cultivation family. Surely she could inherit her mother’s legacy. Could it be… that her father had even stolen her mother’s inheritance?
Quite possible. After all, he was scum. Doing something even more vile would suit his character perfectly. And indeed, the old steward’s face showed hesitation.