Her breath came fast and shallow. Sitting upright on her bed, she glanced quickly around, and when she saw the familiar room, she finally let out a long sigh of relief.
“A nightmare. It was only a nightmare.” Her heart thudded wildly. She touched her face, wiped her brow—her forehead was damp with cold sweat born of fear.
Relief followed close behind. For a moment, she had thought she had crossed over yet again. But no—it had only been a dream. Still, the dream had felt unnervingly real, as though she had truly been there. Even now, the emotions from that dream clung to her, lingering in her chest. That fierce, burning hatred had nearly consumed her, stripping away reason.
Terrifying. Was the cultivation world truly so dangerous… that even dreams were unlike those of ordinary mortals?
Yu Sangsang, still shaken, dared not fall asleep again. What if the nightmare returned? She remembered vividly the dreadful upheaval before she woke—when that mechanical female voice had spoken in her ear, the world itself had begun to tremble. The blood-red moon shook in the sky, swaying as though it might crash to the earth.
Mountains in the distance quaked violently, as if something monstrous was breaking free from the soil, shaking heaven and earth, tearing the world apart. And then, from within her body, a phoenix’s clear cry rang out. The sound seemed to quell the chaos. The tremors subsided; the upheaval stilled. The last thing she saw before waking was the blood-colored coffin, silent once more, utterly still. Nothing else mattered. Just seeing that coffin subdued filled her with a strange sense of triumph. That inexplicable pride lingered even after she woke, tugging her lips into a faint smile—before a shiver ran through her, and she let it fade. She had no time to be pleased. Besides, such emotions felt alien and unsettling.
The delicate, fragile girl sat on her bed, only now realizing that something unusual was happening within her body. Spiritual energy was pouring into her like a flood, accumulating rapidly. She frowned in confusion—then suddenly her mind cleared, and before her inner vision appeared a wondrous book. Its pages shimmered with radiant light, countless characters flowing together in profound patterns. They transformed into streams of brilliance that entered her brow. For a moment, she understood it all. The mysterious words unfolded within her as though she had always known them, requiring no study, no effort. When the light faded, she felt spiritual energy gathering in her dantian. It coursed joyfully through her meridians and bones, following new paths she had never known, completing cycles again and again. Her qi sea expanded within her dantian, becoming a swirling pool of dense energy. Her whole body rejoiced, absorbing more and more.
There was no limit, no sense of being overwhelmed—however much spiritual energy came, she could contain it.
Yet Yu Sangsang quickly opened her eyes. She stared at herself in astonishment, then clapped a hand over her mouth, whispering in disbelief. “Could it be… this princess is truly a genius?”
It was the only explanation that made sense. Not long ago, she had been fretting—possessing an extraordinary cultivation physique yet unable to even begin training. And now, after a single night’s sleep, she had comprehended an entire cultivation method. And that voice… the mechanical female voice that had nearly frightened her to death, now seemed oddly familiar, even intimate. Yu Sangsang drew in a sharp breath.
Of course, she knew that electronic tone. It was the background voice from the game. More importantly, the *Supreme Purity Treasure Record* she had heard—wasn’t that one of the most powerful cultivation manuals in the game? A treasure that could be cultivated all the way to the immortal stage, with countless profound transformations and applications.
She remembered: her demon-lord main account had once spent over a hundred million spirit stones and traded a top-tier artifact just to obtain it. It was the pinnacle of human cultivation methods… which she had then given to her little side account to train with. Thinking of this, the princess’s eyes grew misty. She had sacrificed so much for that side account. And now, inexplicably, she had grasped the very technique, solving her greatest worry about cultivation. Perhaps this was her reward. Back then, spending the money had been painful. Now, stumbling upon such fortune, she could only feel grateful. Yet beyond her relief, Yu Sangsang hesitated.
Was this transmigration… a little too convenient? A flawless cultivation physique, a top-tier manual—had the game given her too much? After all, she had only played a game.
Could a game truly be so powerful? To casually set down rules and systems that, in the real cultivation world, manifested as supreme truths.
In the game, the *Supreme Purity Treasure Record* was described as a top-tier technique capable of molding stars with bare hands. And from the essence she had just glimpsed, it seemed entirely possible—cultivated to its peak, it could overturn heaven and earth. This game was defying the heavens.
And more astonishing still—Yu Sangsang lowered her head, staring blankly at the silver bracelet carved with a phoenix upon her wrist. From the finely wrought bracelet, a phantom phoenix peeked out, tilting its tiny head inquisitively.
Meeting Yu Sangsang’s gaze, the tiny phoenix phantom tilted its head, almost shy, before suddenly retreating. A faint glimmer flashed in the silver phoenix’s eyes, and even the cold bracelet seemed to come alive.
At once, Yu Sangsang realized what that fleeting thought had been. She had found it strange. This silver bracelet—given to her long ago by the former King of Dayu, her grandfather—was peculiar. When she was three, it fit snugly around her wrist. Now, fourteen years later, she had grown into a young woman, yet the bracelet still fit perfectly—neither too tight nor too loose. It was as though it had grown alongside her. Her mind blurred, but deep within her memory, something long forgotten began to sharpen. She saw a dignified old man gently fastening the bracelet onto the wrist of a small child. His weathered hand caressed the child’s face as he spoke softly: “Xian’er, remember—this belongs only to you. You must keep it safe. Never tell anyone of it, and never give it to another.”
“Not anyone?” she had asked in her childish voice.
“Anyone but you.”
“Alright. Xian’er will listen to Grandfather.”
Though she had not understood, she had remembered. Even after losing her grandfather, her mother, and everything else, she had never let the bracelet be taken. Now, gazing at the silver bracelet infused with spiritual energy, Yu Sangsang thought the carved phoenix winked at her. Tentatively, she channeled spiritual energy into it. Suddenly, she gasped, clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream, and rolled across her bed in shock.
Inside the bracelet was a vast space, overflowing with heavenly treasures, spirit pills, and magical artifacts—most of them familiar, gifts her main account had once bestowed upon her side account. None had been lost. She had not been cheated. And in another corner of the bracelet lay an even greater hoard: towering mountains of high-grade spirit stones, with mid- and low-grade stones scattered like sand around them. Scrolls of cultivation manuals, spirit treasures glowing with energy, and countless bottles of pills filled the space.
Curious, Yu Sangsang picked up one pill bottle. On its base was engraved a single character: *Jing*. At the sight of that word, she fell into thought.
Of course, she knew it well. It was her mother’s family name.
That clan had once been among the most renowned in this realm. And since these treasures bore her family’s mark, it meant that the hoard within her grandfather’s bracelet was not only the game’s gifts—but also her mother’s legacy.
Yu Sangsang scratched her head, beginning to guess… Could this wealth have been what her mother brought with her when she married into the Dayu imperial court? But if her grandfather and mother had been alive then, why had they never told her of its existence?
Had she known earlier that the King of Dayu might never have laid hands on her mother’s treasures, that her wretched father was worth nothing at all, she would have long since scattered flowers and run free…
No—truthfully, even if she had known, Yu Sangsang herself would have left. But Yu Xian’er, unless driven to desperation, would never have gone. She might not have loved her father, but she had loved her grandfather dearly. His and her mother’s memorial tablets were here, and she had wanted to guard them. Besides, where could a small, helpless child have gone to make a life outside these walls?
“But I must leave.” The thought was bittersweet—painful, yet fulfilling.
She remembered how much her grandfather had loved her. And in the clarity of her mind, she recalled childhood memories: her mother, even bedridden with illness, still holding her hand with a gentle smile, tenderly wiping the dirt from her little face like a mischievous kitten, never once demanding she “be good.” As though no matter what she did, her mother thought her perfect. Those memories, though not truly her own, now felt as if she herself had been that child, cherished and loved. And because of that, she had to go. She wanted to love her too—to love the Yu Xian’er who seemed lost forever. She had received her gifts, inherited her body, and now wished to repay her. She would take her to see the world’s beauty, cultivate to success, and one day return here to strike down those who had wronged her.
Exhaling, she withdrew her consciousness from the bracelet and looked again at the seemingly ordinary silver band. A phoenix phantom peeked out timidly, watching her in secret. She couldn’t help but laugh softly.
The beautiful girl brushed her slender fingertips across the phantom’s tiny head, stroking it gently. Her mood lifted. After all, though she had suffered a nightmare, she had gained so much. She had even stabilized her newly opened sea of consciousness, leaping in just a few days to the third level of Qi Refining…
She truly was a genius!
Until one day, the shabby old servant came grinning like a flower, eager to play the bearer of good news. “Great joy, my lady!” he chirped, buzzing like a grasshopper. “The King has sent word—he will come to see you in a few days!”
The princess, lately radiant with fortune, now wore a blank face. Utterly deflated.