"You're so lucky—Master has a soft spot for you, Gao Yun." Mianmian's voice dripped with contempt. "Rodent, he says. More like he is." The Master's voice cut through. "Mianmian." He turned to the others. "These two are my newest disciples." He gestured toward the taller one. "You already recognise one. The little one—her brother." Ren didn't speak. His silence pressed against the room like a second gravity.
"You're that jade dancer, aren't you? I remember you. To think we'd see you here of all places. I thought we left you in the dust." "Yes, well... I'm your junior sister now. Please treat me with kindness—that is my intent." Mianmian scoffed. "Don't bother. He doesn't deserve respect, in my opinion. He was rude to Master the first time they met. I was watching from the trees when Master arrived at the Glass Lotus Sect—he was arrogant, barely Step One. He's lucky the early steps grant longevity, or he'd be dead and shrivelled by now. He only reached Step Five Hundred because of Master's teachings. Even when Master wasn't around, he changed—his body, his mindset, everything. I even helped him with discipline." "Be quiet, Mianmian. You have such a big mouth."
She threw another nut at him. It struck like judgment, and he was sent flying into the heavens. Ren saved him—even though he didn't need saving. "Master, you have such a soft spot for him. I don't understand." "Because he's a changed man. That's enough for me to show him the respect he deserves. Could you try to do the same? He should do the same for you." Ren turned toward the training grounds. "I'll teach the princess and prince sword techniques, spear techniques, and axe techniques. All of it. It will help their cultivation—because I'll be the one guiding them. If I teach them how to wield every weapon, refine every form, and improve without bias, they'll grow beyond confidence. They'll grow into clarity."
"This technique was taught to me by my master, Fairy Jin. It's been passed down through her family for generations. With it, you can wield any weapon you prefer—and still draw the same power. Of course, once you reach the Divine Realm, it becomes even more effective not just in raw strength, but in versatility, resonance, and control. I've refined it further—woven in my intent, my understanding. It's no longer just inherited. It's mine now, too. Of course, I gave it back to my master—copied it into her scroll, gave her the improved version. I remember this technique by heart. Truth is, you could live your whole life with just this one. But there's nothing wrong with adding more techniques to your arsenal. Mastery isn't about having less—it's about knowing what to reach for, and when."
"We understand True Immortal." Ren thought of the Glass Lotus Sect. Far away, within its crystalline halls, Fairy Jin, Lady Yueh, and the others sat in council. Fairy Jin rarely attended these meetings. But today, something stirred. Her family scroll pulsed. She paused—then smiled. Ren must be teaching the technique again. It seems he had found new disciples. She was glad. Glad that he was using what she had taught him—passing it on, refining it, making it his own.
After the council meeting ended, Fairy Jin walked with Lady Yueh through the garden of the sect. They moved in silence, watching the beasts that roamed freely among the lotus ponds and crystal paths. Fairy Jin spoke softly. "It seems Ren is no longer within the provinces of the Glass Lotus Sect. He hasn't been for some time now."
"I did warn him about his safety," Fairy Jin said, her voice light with memory. "But he doesn't need it. After all, we're talking about Ren." Lady Yueh listened quietly to her senior sister, the garden's silence enveloping them like a mist.
"Lady Xuanhe made a formal complaint," Fairy Jin said, her gaze drifting toward the distant peaks. "She told him to stay. To use what she had refined with her own Divine God Qi. It would have benefited him greatly." She paused. "But he went elsewhere."
Up in the heavens of Mìngjiè Xiānlù, within the sanctum of her divine realm, Lady Xuanhe stood beneath the veined sky of immortal silk, her breath braided with Divine God Qi, her silence heavier than decree. "He's reached the demigod realm," she said, voice low but edged with intent. "That's good. Tell me, Mistress Baihui—your husband, the others… What are you plotting in Mìngjiè Xiānlù? He hasn't told me. Are you willing to?" Mistress Baihui smiled. Her probing flames burned bright, flickering with restrained amusement. "I think you can guess," she said. "But I'm wondering if you know when to pick a side. After all, I wouldn't want to fight you. I've come to like you quite a bit." She stepped closer, her voice soft but sovereign. "It's clear as day—you'll become my husband's wife someday. So I should at least try to convince you." Lady Xuanhe's gaze didn't waver. "I wish to have him as a disciple, for now," she said. "If that happens, fine. I do like him. He is my type."
Blood Orchid Sect. The veiled heavens trembled as the shadow figure of a god watched from the edge of reality. Below, Liáng Xu and Fei Yan trained together—movements sharp, synchronised, unaware of the truth braided into their blood. Beside the god stood Yuēn Sīzhào, his voice low, reverent. "Thank you, Master… for reviving them. After all, they are my sons. And Lady Yueh—she is their biological mother." The god's shadow pulsed, slow and deliberate. They did not look at Yuēn Sīzhào when he spoke. "Tell me… Why do you love a woman who never married you? Who raised her children alone, in secret, within the Glass Lotus Sect?" Their voices darkened, not with cruelty, but with cosmic sorrow. "Those two—Liáng Xu and Fei Yan— they don't even know. The woman they lust for, the one they desire, is their mother."
"I don't know why she never married me," Yuēn Sīzhào said, his voice barely more than a breath. "She won't tell me now. She's closed herself off— to love, to closeness, to everything we once were." He looked down at the two boys training, unaware of the truth braided into their lineage. "I gave her my vow. She gave me silence."
"That Shen Wuyin killed my sons in cold blood," Yuēn Sīzhào said, his voice hollow with memory. "But I suppose… it was for good reason." He didn't look away from the training ground, where the revived forms of Liáng Xu and Fei Yan moved like echoes of what they once were. "Their personalities had been corrupted— by power, by resentment, by the intent that twists desire into domination."
"Yes… Them," the shadow god murmured, they form flickering against the veined sky. "I tried to kill them. But that bitch—Lady Xuanhe—stopped me before I could." Their voice sharpened, then softened, caught between wrath and recognition. "But that Shen Wuyin child… They're strange. Something about them feels familiar. I don't know from where. And it irks me." The shadows around them pulsed, restless.
In the sanctum of her divine realm, Eternal Empress Bai played with fire. She shaped it idly, sculpting a miniature phoenix—a creature of rebirth and ruin—between her fingers. Its wings flickered with golden flame, pulsing like a heartbeat long forgotten. Across from her, Talia drank blood from a crystal glass, her lips stained, her silence louder than prophecy. Mariko, wrapped in her countless tails, slept atop them like a goddess of dreams— or perhaps she merely pretended, listening through closed eyes.
And then there was Venya Blackragon. She stood apart, her presence carved from shadow and legacy. Her thick white hair was pulled into a high ponytail— not for beauty, but for readiness. A black dragon tattoo pierced through her thumb, its tail winding up her arm in elegant, deliberate coils, ending at her neck, where the dragon's head rested—eyes open, mouth poised.
Venya Blackragon drank from a glass, her gaze fixed on Ren, who trained her disciples with quiet precision. The courtyard below pulsed with movement—each strike, each breath, a thread in Ren's tapestry of discipline. Venya spoke without turning. "Ren has finally reunited with the Ancient Clans. That's good." She swirled the blood in her glass, watching it catch the light like prophecy. "It means we can conquer this realm more efficiently." Her tone was calm, almost bored. But the dragon at her neck seemed to stir—its inked eyes narrowing, as if it knew conquest was never clean.
Talia entered, her blood-red hair tied in a sleek ponytail that shimmered like warpaint. She wiped the blood from her lips with the back of her hand, slow and deliberate. "I miss the taste of my husband's blood," she said, voice low, almost fond. "He should be arriving soon. A visit, for all of us." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. It lingered like a blade held just out of sight.
Mariko stirred from her nest of tails, eyes half-lidded but sharp. "Sister Bai," she murmured, "what did Lady Xunhe speak to you about?" Eternal Empress Bai didn't look up from the phoenix flickering between her fingers. "She asked what we were planning here," Bai said, voice calm, almost amused. "I didn't answer. She can probably guess." She let the fire phoenix dissolve into smoke. "She won't stop us. She'll likely join us. It's good to know we have one of the Legendary Six on our side."