As Shuang Xu approached closer, she still couldn’t detect any magical artifact on Ye Lizhi that could conceal her aura. Most of the time, this Miss Ye resembled an inconspicuous shadow—unless one deliberately sought her out, her presence was often overlooked. Only when one’s gaze fell upon her would there suddenly be a flash of Spiritual Light, realizing she was here too.
Though somewhat puzzled, Shuang Xu didn’t dwell on it. Her eyes swept over the bloodstained clothes and she said with concern, “Miss Ye is seriously injured. Let’s go inside first before we talk.”
Ye Lizhi snapped back to attention, nodded, and followed Shuang Xu into the room. She bowed respectfully to Mu Zhaoran, “Your Highness.”
Mu Zhaoran sat calmly in her chair, while Ye Lingyan, standing nearby, ran to the doorway and glanced outside. Not seeing Ye Rong, she turned and asked, “Why did you come alone? Where’s Father?”
Ye Lizhi answered her question, though her explanation was directed toward Mu Zhaoran. “When Father found me last night, we encountered some strange occurrences. We were attacked by a group of vengeful spirits and ghosts. Father was seriously injured and needed immediate medical attention, so he couldn’t return to report to Your Highness. Father entrusted me to apologize to Your Highness and beg for your forgiveness.”
Ye Lingyan was nearly infuriated by her repeated use of “Father.” She shoved Ye Lizhi and snapped, “What are you shouting in public? Who is your father? Are you worthy? Watch out or I’ll have someone tear your mouth apart!”
Although Ye Lizhi’s identity wasn’t exactly a secret, as long as Ye Rong didn’t publicly acknowledge her status for a day, she would remain an illegitimate child forced to live in the shadows.
The title “Father” was something she would never be worthy of uttering.
Pushed by Ye Lingyan, Ye Lizhi staggered like a willow branch swaying in the wind. Fortunately, Shuang Xu reached out to support her, allowing her to barely regain her balance. She lowered her head and fell silent.
Ye Lingyan raised her hand to push her again but belatedly realized now wasn’t the time to argue over titles. Anxiously, she asked, “How is Father really?”
Afraid of provoking her further, Ye Lizhi reverted to her previous form of address. “Don’t worry. Last night, an immortal passed by and saved us. The General took the pill he gave and is no longer in critical condition. He was escorted by his personal guards to the nearest town for treatment.”
Mu Zhaoran nearly crushed the cup in her hand upon hearing this, secretly sneering coldly.
Ye Lingyan sighed in relief and accused, “Demons and monsters often linger in desolate mountains and wild forests. It’s all your fault—why did you run off? You caused Father to suffer because of you!”
She completely absolved herself of any responsibility, glaring at Ye Lizhi with hostility. However, mindful of Mu Zhaoran’s presence, she refrained from making a scene publicly.
Whether their apparent discord was specifically performed for her benefit, Mu Zhaoran couldn’t tell. Whenever she recalled how they would later reconcile and become deeply affectionate sisters, she felt utterly disgusted.
She placed the cup back on the table, withdrawing her hands into her sleeves as she restrained the emotions in her heart. “So, it was the immortal you mentioned who brought you back?”
Ye Lizhi nodded. “The immortal wanted to investigate the origins of those vengeful spirits and happened to be heading in this direction to investigate, so he gave me a ride here.” Before leaving, seeing her injuries, he also gave her a small sword so she could protect herself.
Ye Lizhi carefully cradled the sword in her arms and glanced once more at the Yaoguang Saintess seated on the main throne. It seemed as though the dimness of her life had finally been illuminated by a ray of dawn.
Mu Zhaoran paid no attention to Ye Lizhi’s reaction, preoccupied instead with recalling whether she had thoroughly erased all traces the previous night.
The ghost bandits, summoned by the tainted talisman, had emerged from the earth and traveled thousands of miles to assassinate Ye Rong. Such an act was bound to leave traces. With Yun Xiaoyang’s abilities, it was only a matter of time before he traced the clues back to the mass grave. All she needed to ensure was that nothing could implicate her.
The mass grave was over a hundred miles from the relay station. Though she had been flustered and anxious last night, she had mustered the strength to eliminate every trace she left behind.
To prevent Yun Xiaoyang from using a retrospection spell to reconstruct the events of the previous night, she had even scrambled and muddled the entire energy field within the mass grave before leaving. It was unlikely any clues would be found.
Lost in thought, Mu Zhaoran feigned curiosity and peered outside. “Why isn’t anyone here?”
Ye Lizhi answered truthfully, “Upon hearing that Your Highness was resting here, the immortal master did not wish to disturb you. He escorted me to the outskirts of the relay station and then departed, likely to pursue the ghostly fiends.”
Now that the expected person had arrived, Mu Zhaoran had no desire to linger any longer. She rose to her feet and declared, “The time has come. Let us depart.”
As she passed by Ye Lizhi and Ye Lingyan, her brows furrowed slightly, revealing unmistakable annoyance and impatience. “I have no patience to play such games with you a second time.”
Ye Lingyan understood the warning in her words and shot Ye Lizhi a resentful glare before smiling ingratiatingly. “Your Highness need not worry. I will keep a close eye on her.”
The crowd in the hall followed Mu Zhaoran out in single file. As Ye Lizhi stepped forward to join them, her wrist was abruptly seized and she was roughly dragged to the back of the line. Ye Lingyan’s furious interrogation pierced her ears. “What exactly are you trying to do?”
Ye Lizhi turned to see the look of disgust on her face and calmly retrieved Ye Rong’s jade pendant from her robes. “Father has already agreed to let me go to Tiandao Palace.”
Ye Lingyan glanced down at the pendant, snatched it from her hands, and confirmed it was indeed her father’s possession. In disbelief, she exclaimed, “How is that possible?”
Tiandao Palace stood as the foremost institution of righteousness in the world, housing all the cultivation techniques under heaven and gathering renowned masters and sages. Anyone with ambition dreamed of entering Tiandao Palace to study and ascend the path of immortality.
To study at Tiandao Palace, one needed a Yanjin Order. Yet, Tiandao Palace issued only twenty-four Yanjin Orders every ten years. While the Saintess had no desire to go, countless others fought tooth and nail for the chance to enter.
Even Ye Rong, despite years of scheming and maneuvering to obtain a Yanjin Order, had never succeeded.
But Ye Lingyan had accidentally discovered a Yanjin Order on this lowly illegitimate child of the household. At first, she could hardly believe it. Only after summoning her father to verify its authenticity did she force Ye Lizhi to surrender the order.
Her father had always despised this bastard child, refusing to formally acknowledge her identity, let alone allow her to represent the Ye family at Tiandao Palace. As expected, her father had given the Yanjin Order to her.
So why would he suddenly change his mind now and agree to let Ye Lizhi go to Tiandao Palace? The Ye family possessed only one Yanjin Order, meaning only one person could enter Tiandao Palace.
Without even looking, Ye Lizhi could guess what Ye Lingyan was thinking at that moment. She lowered her voice in a show of weakness and said, “Sister, rest assured. I made a vow before Father that I will not compete with you. Only you, as the legitimate daughter, can represent the Ye family in entering the Tiandao Palace.”
Outside, the carriage procession was being organized and would soon set off. Ye Lingyan had no time to say more to her, nor did she believe her words. She merely snorted coldly and said, “Don’t call me sister! You’d better remember that. Keep your mouth shut. If you hinder my entry into the Tiandao Palace, Father won’t let you off either.”
Ye Lizhi lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
The carriage procession set off from the relay station and continued toward the Central Continent. Mu Zhaoran truly disliked sharing a carriage with Ye Lizhi, so she tossed her into the accompanying servant’s carriage and sent the Sacred Hall’s medical cultivator, Liu Yue, to tend to her wounds, lest the System blame her for Ye Lizhi’s poor health.
Fortunately, the latter half of the journey proceeded smoothly, and Ye Lingyan behaved obediently without causing any more trouble.
Five days later, the group crossed the Southern Realm and arrived in the Central Continent.
The Central Continent lay at the heart of the world, surrounded by the Four Realms to the east, south, west, and north. The prosperity and flourishing of Tiandu City surpassed even that of Nanrong. Tiandu City alone possessed the grandeur of an entire nation.
Tiandu City was situated on a plain. After entering the Tiandu region, the land stretched for thousands of miles as a vast, flat expanse. Only at the center of Tiandu City stood a towering mountain that rose abruptly from the ground, piercing the clouds. At its summit lay the Tiandao Palace.
After entering the Central Continent, Mu Zhaoran could already glimpse the faint silhouette of the mountain in the clouds from afar in her carriage. The convoy activated all its magic arrays and sped toward the mountain shadow for three days before finally reaching Tiandu City at the foot of the mountain.
A reception envoy was already waiting at the city gate to welcome the Nanrong carriage procession into the city.
The city walls were tall, thick, and majestic, and the gate passage was extremely long. As the imperial carriage entered the city gate, the light outside the window dimmed. After dozens of breaths, the light outside brightened again, and the lively clamor poured through the window along with the light, flooding into Mu Zhaoran’s ears.
She pushed open the sliding window on either side and looked out through the thin white gauze.
This road was the main thoroughfare of the city, paved with bluestone, wide and smooth, capable of accommodating four luxurious carriages side by side. Tall buildings lined both sides of the street, standing row upon row. Many people had gathered along the roadside to watch their procession entering the city.
“Is that the Nanrong flag? The person in that carriage must be the Nanrong princess, then?”
“I heard that princess is as beautiful as flowers, captivating enough to topple cities, hailed as the treasure of the Southern Realm. I wonder if we’ll be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her true appearance.”
“What treasure of the Southern Realm? Can she compare to the noble ladies of our Tiandu?”
“That carriage is a bit too extravagant. Look at the gemstones embedded on the imperial carriage—they’re bigger than goose eggs. The danglu on the horse’s face is made of pure gold, right? It’s blinding my eyes. Nanrong really is wealthy.”
“So what if they’re wealthy? Just a bunch of rustic upstarts. Don’t they still have to pay tribute to our Tiandu? Count how many chests are being pulled behind the Nanrong convoy—more or fewer than those from the Three Immortal Islands?”
Amid the rustling whispers drifting from the roadside, someone actually began counting.
In her previous life, when she first came to Tiandu, Mu Zhaoran was endlessly curious about this sacred city. She had sat behind the curtains, curiously observing this city so different in style from Nanrong. Hearing the vulgar discussions from the street, she grew indignant and signaled Shuang Xu to vent her anger for her.
Shuang Xu kept her hands tucked inside her sleeves, her fingers never loosening from the hand seals she formed along the way. She drew water from the air, using it to wash out hundreds of mouths along the street, flushing them until their mouths were filled with blood, and they dared not speak recklessly again.
With the sharp hearing of a cultivator, Shuang Xu naturally caught every vulgar word spoken. Indignantly, she said, “Your Highness need not listen to such idle gossip—it would only sully your ears. Allow me to teach them a lesson on your behalf.”
“No need. It’s just the talk of the common folk,” Mu Zhaoran replied unhurriedly. Now that she had returned to this familiar place and saw the old streets once more, only weariness remained in her heart, and the discussions drifting from the roadside stirred no ripple within her.
Moreover, in her previous life, when she was expelled from Tiandao Palace, she had heard far worse words than these.
Mu Zhaoran raised her hand and closed the window, shutting out the clamor of the common folk.
Passing through an inner city gate, the streets narrowed slightly, but the buildings within the inner city grew increasingly elegant and refined. The whispers along the roadside vanished—those who had gossiped earlier would never cross this inner city gate in their entire lives.
The carriage procession traveled through the outer city of Tiandu for half a day, then continued forward for another half-day after entering the inner city, finally arriving at the heart of Tiandu City—the gatehouse at the foot of the towering mountain.
The gatehouse stood over a hundred ren tall, crafted from white marble, with glazed tiles atop that shimmered brilliantly under the sun. Outside the gatehouse lay a broad bluestone plaza, where many carriage processions were already parked on either side—all visitors from the Four Realms.
Beyond the gatehouse, the mountain rose high and dense with forests, shrouded in mist and clouds. Only when the mountain gate opened could one catch a glimpse of the jade palaces and crimson pavilions suspended within the clouds.
A long staircase wound upward from behind the mountain gate, leading straight to the summit. Tiandao Palace stood atop these ethereal clouds and mist—clearly situated in the heart of the busiest city, yet possessing the secluded depth of lofty mountains and clear waters, transcendent and detached from the world, both within the mortal realm and elevated above it.
Even as a princess born with a silver spoon in her mouth, accustomed to the world’s splendors, she had once widened her eyes in awe upon first seeing the floating palaces beyond the mountain gate, completely forgetting the grievances of leaving home, revealing an unmistakable sense of wonder and longing.
Now, she had returned here.
Mu Zhaoran glanced up at the three characters “Tiandao Palace” dancing across the plaque on the gatehouse, then caught sight of the towering stone stele to the right of the mountain gate in her peripheral vision. She stepped down from the imperial carriage and walked toward the stele.
Shuang Xu followed behind her, puzzled, and reminded her, “Your Highness, that is the Sin Stele of the Heavenly Dao.”
“I know,” Mu Zhaoran replied. Of course she knew it was the Sin Stele—in her previous life, her name had once been carved upon it.
Her reputation as a heinous Dao-loser had spread from this very Sin Stele, out of the inner city, out of Tiandu, and across the entire world, making her an outcast everywhere she went.
The stele before her bore the names of many Dao-losers. Mu Zhaoran studied the surface carefully, starting from the top right, scanning down name by name.
In her previous life, she had never paid attention to others, so she didn’t know when he had been “convicted” by Tiandao Palace.
With the Holy Maiden having stepped down from the carriage procession, the others from Nanrong naturally couldn’t remain seated in their carriages. They all followed suit and disembarked. Ye Lingyan stood before the carriage procession of the general’s estate, muttering to herself, “What’s so interesting about a Sin Stele?”
Any name on that Sin Stele was like a rat scurrying across the street—everyone shouted and chased after it, and even a single glance was considered unlucky. Others would rather detour around the Sin Stele, staying as far away as possible. Who would deliberately approach it for a closer look?
To the uninformed, it might seem as though she recognized someone on the stele, as if searching for an old acquaintance.
The carriage procession halted before the Sin Stele was quite conspicuous. Ye Lingyan felt the gazes from all directions fixed upon them and irritably kicked the ground, wishing she could drag the General’s Estate’s carriage away to distance themselves from the Saintess and avoid implicating the Ye family.
Ye Lingyan stared thoughtfully at Mu Zhaoran. Her transformation over the past few days had been rather significant, her every action unexpectedly surprising, as if she had become a different person. She had suddenly grown partial toward Ye Lizhi while deliberately distancing herself from Ye Lingyan. It was unclear what bewitching potion that wretched maid had given her.
Along the way, she had received Ye Rong’s reply. Her father had unexpectedly changed his stance and acknowledged Ye Lizhi. Even though he assured her that Ye Lizhi would not compete with her for the spot to enter Tiandao Palace, Ye Lingyan felt deeply unsettled. She did not believe Ye Lizhi would be so compliant. If she truly had no desire to enter Tiandao Palace, why had she stubbornly insisted on following them?
Her father and close friend’s sudden change in attitude left Ye Lingyan uneasy. She turned her gaze and found the person standing in the shadow of the imperial carriage, her eyes sharp as knives as they swept over her.
Ye Lizhi lowered her head, habitually avoiding her gaze, unwilling to provoke any direct confrontation.
The more she acted this way, the more Ye Lingyan despised it. She took a step forward, intending to approach her—she dared not question Mu Zhaoran, but she had no reservations when it came to Ye Lizhi. Wasn’t she the Ye family’s second young miss? As the eldest sister, she certainly had the right to teach her a proper lesson.
Just then, a sudden explosive crack echoed from high above. Ye Lingyan was startled and retreated beside the carriage. Everyone was drawn by the explosive sound, looking upward.
In the clear sky, a blazing bolt of lightning suddenly erupted, crackling and rapidly spreading in all directions. The people below scattered in panic, some grumbling as they were forced to make way for the serpentine lightning, retreating to the sides.
The lightning tore through the space, distorting it and ripping open a rift in the air.
A figure clad in white stepped out from the rift, treading upon the flickering, darting lightning. Arcs of electricity shimmered around him, his robes fluttering in the wind as he descended slowly, landing on the steps before the mountain gate.
The lightning dissipated without a trace. His flowing hair settled, and two golden hair ribbons rested atop his dark locks within his hair crown, dazzlingly conspicuous.
The golden-ribbon disciples of Tiandao Palace were few in number, each renowned far and wide. Among them, only one possessed the power to command lightning. The identity of the newcomer was now unmistakably clear.
“It’s the Sword Venerable’s chief disciple, the Xingtian Sword Lord, You Guxue.”
Someone announced his identity, and all those present straightened with solemn reverence, their hearts filled with awe. Who would dare complain about the overbearing lightning now? They gathered once more before the gate tower, adjusting their robes and headwear, bowing with clasped fists toward the Xingtian Sword Lord.
You Guxue’s brow held a frost-like chill as he coldly accepted the salutations of the crowd, showing no intention of returning the courtesy. His gaze drifted lightly over the assembly before finally settling on the Sin Stele ahead.
Only two figures stood before the Sin Stele. Shuang Xu stiffened, bowing from a distance toward You Guxue with a clasped fist salute, and whispered urgently, “Your Highness, Your Highness…”
Mu Zhaoran focused intently on the list of names inscribed upon the Sin Stele. The roster was long and foul, accumulating sins from who knew how many years. Once a name was carved upon it, the infamy would endure forever, never to be erased.
Unless one perished completely, body and soul reduced to ashes, even a single remnant of a soul would be captured and imprisoned within this Sin Stele, never again to see the light of day.
Just as she was searching until her eyes grew dizzy, she heard Shuang Xu’s call and turned her head impatiently, her gaze colliding with the person on the steps.
Mu Zhaoran’s heart skipped a beat. Pierced by that icy stare, a shiver of dread crawled up her spine from the base of her neck. Every hair on her body stood on end, her scalp tingling, and goosebumps rose on her neck.
The other quickly lowered their eyes, thick lashes veiling the light within, and stepped toward her.
Mu Zhaoran instinctively retreated until her back pressed against Shuang Xu.
Sensing her tense posture, Shuang Xu supported her from behind, whispering, “Your Highness, I am here.”
Shuang Xu’s voice brought Mu Zhaoran a measure of calm. Concealed by her sleeve, she reached back and grasped the sword at Shuang Xu’s waist.
The figure advanced step by step, soon standing before her. Just as Mu Zhaoran was about to draw her sword, the other brushed past her and halted before the Sin Stele behind.
The Sin Stele—was he here for the stele? Not for her?
Mu Zhaoran’s heart, which had leapt to her throat, slowly settled back down. She breathed a silent sigh of relief and turned to look.
The person stood facing the Sin Stele, raising a hand and spreading five fingers. A drop of fresh blood floated in their palm, and with a light flick of their fingertip, they sent it into the stele.
A name on the stele, soaked by the blood, suddenly erupted with a bloody crimson light. Within the glow, a chaotic scene appeared: under thunder and lightning, a face twisted like a Malignant Ghost burst forth from the red light, emitting a piercing, mournful roar.
“You Guxue, you lackey of Tiandao Palace! I curse you to die a wretched death—”
You Guxue chuckled softly, bringing two fingers together to swiftly write the character for “seal” and striking it toward the stele’s surface.
The “seal” character transformed into darting lightning, coiling around the twisted Malignant Ghost and lashing its body until the flesh split open.
Mu Zhaoran watched in horror, her eyes wide, as the lightning bolts left gruesome wounds on the sinner’s body. In her mind flashed the dense, vine-like scars covering Yanluo’s chest. Not just his chest—his back, limbs, and face were all covered with such scars.
Those ugly scars on his body, which she had once scorned, were caused by lightning.
It was You Guxue who had wounded him!
Sensing the gaze fixed upon him from behind, You Guxue tilted his head slightly, lowering his lashes to glance toward the source of the stare.
On the stele, the lightning condensed into chains, pressing the sinner inch by inch back into the Sin Stele. The bloody light receded, the scene vanished, and the resentful curse fell silent, leaving only a name imprisoned by lightning shackles upon the stele.
This signified that the sinner had been subdued.
The entire mountain gate fell into a deathly silence; no one dared even to breathe loudly.
Having completed his task, You Guxue calmly withdrew his hand and turned to face Mu Zhaoran. He glanced down at the exquisitely carved characters “Yaoguang” on the jade pendant at her waist, then raised his eyes to lock onto hers. “Saintess Nanrong? Most of those on this stele perished by my sword. Whom are you seeking? Speak the name, and perhaps I can be of service.”
Mu Zhaoran witnessed the bloody and gruesome scene up close, her ears ringing, still echoing with that venomous curse.
She glanced at the densely inscribed names confined on the stele, her mind flashing with the dense scars covering Yanluo’s body, and trembled as she said, “N-no need, I was just looking around…”
Zhaoran: Damn you, so it was you who ruined my ex-husband’s beauty!