Time flowed on.
Ye Chuxue passed each trial with ease, one after another, while Song Wanníng remained motionless at the first test, her aura flickering and unstable. Her face, split between yin and yang, looked both ridiculous and terrifying.
Mu Zixu couldn't help but scoff. "A schemer like her—so what if she managed to enter the Inheritance Hall? She's still stuck at the very first step."
No matter how he looked at Song Wanníng, she rubbed him the wrong way. Some people are just naturally incompatible, like two magnets repelling each other.
Wang Yang gave a soft sigh from the side. "To endure for this long, her willpower must be strong. It's just a pity she's walking the wrong path."
If she had devoted herself to proper cultivation, she might have achieved something remarkable.
Such a waste.
Just as his words faded, a sudden change overtook Song Wanníng.
The previously balanced demonic qi and spiritual qi inside her clashed violently, erupting in a frenzied assault. The opposing forces raged and howled, tearing at her sanity as if to rip her mind to shreds.
Once again, the scenes from her past life surfaced. The hatred that had once drowned her rose anew, trying to awaken the darkest parts of her heart—the madness within.
She coughed up a mouthful of blood. Her dantian was already battered and torn, on the verge of collapse. Yet if one looked closely, her expression was calm. Strikingly calm. A stark contrast to the turmoil in her body.
Deep within her sea of consciousness, a small corner remained untouched.
There, her memories lived on: her master's gentle guidance, the love of her parents, her youthful years of tireless cultivation. That corner held the last threads tying her to the world, the final bit of light during her descent into darkness.
And now, that same corner kept her standing.
"Wanníng, your comprehension is exceptional. Your talent in swordsmanship far surpasses Qingyuan's," her master had once said. "But the sharpest blades snap the easiest. I worry that if you walk the path of the killing sword, it will bring too much bloodshed…"
The memory rang in her ears. Back then, her master would always stroke her hair gently and speak with warmth, telling her of the spirit realm above the cultivation world, and the immortal realm beyond that. He said that if she cultivated well, she would one day walk among the stars and witness new worlds.
Fearing that she would lose herself to slaughter, he had encouraged her to study alchemy.
She had little natural talent in it.
But Song Wanníng had never been one to admit defeat. Once she started learning, she had vowed to be the best.
While others laughed and drank, she refined pills.
While others traveled and played, she refined pills.
Apart from refining pills and honing her swordsmanship, her only other focus had been Gu Qingyuan. Back then, he had cared for her with quiet patience. Whenever she liked something, no matter how far he had to go, he would find it and bring it to her.
When she felt despair and wanted to give up, it was Gu Qingyuan who sat with her in the snow for three days and nights. Yet when she finally succeeded in refining the Heavenly Origin Heart-Nourishing Pill and ran to him in joy, he only looked at her coldly and told her to hand it over.
Song Wanníng had never doubted her sincerity.
But sincerity changes. It slips through your fingers the tighter you hold on.
So why not just let it go?
Unfortunately, in her past life, she hadn't been able to see through it. She had stubbornly tried to win Gu Qingyuan back, turning herself into a laughingstock.
Song Wanníng chuckled bitterly. Maybe it was her refusal to lose that had made her cling to something so empty. But in chasing after it, she had lost herself. Lost the expectations of her parents and her master.
Her eyes snapped open.
She raised her hand sharply, fingers curling around an invisible hilt, and swung it with all her strength.
That strike severed her attachments to the past.
That strike severed her longing for love.
That strike carved a new life for her.
That strike forged her future.
In the depths of her consciousness, a golden sword shot into the sky. It burst into radiant light, illuminating the entire chamber.
The once rampant demonic qi recoiled as if struck by thunder, trembling like rats before a cat.
It scattered, rushing to hide in the furthest corners of her body.
The golden light lasted only a few seconds before vanishing. It was as if nothing had happened.
Song Wanníng slowly opened her eyes. Her aura had calmed, and the magic qi was now under her control.
She tilted her head, lips quirking up, then glanced upward.
Wild and unrestrained.
That look said, clear as day—
"Look, I'm still standing."
Mu Zixu slammed the stone table, furious. "Such arrogance! She only managed to suppress her demonic qi, and she already thinks she's won?"
"Utter ignorance!"
That look she gave just now was obviously a provocation!
"As long as I have a say, she won't get a single drop of our Yaowang Sect's inheritance!"
He, a master of alchemy, had never been provoked like this in his life. And now a little girl dared to challenge him?
"She's just a child. No need to hold such spite toward her," Wang Yang said, frowning at his companion's outburst.
The fact that she could suppress the demonic qi and break through using swordsmanship—that alone proved she was no ordinary cultivator.
"Perhaps the heart demon wasn't her fault to begin with. If anything, I think she's rather admirable."
A hint of regret appeared in Wang Yang's eyes. If only she had been able to purge the heart demon entirely, how much brighter her path would be.
He couldn't help but wonder what kind of pain she had endured for her demon to become so strong.
"Tch, you're always too softhearted," Mu Zixu muttered, displeased that his friend had taken the girl's side.
But he said nothing more.
In any case, as long as he remained silent, she wouldn't receive the inheritance.
What could one little girl do against him?
Meanwhile, Immortal Lord Mòyáng sat listening to the two bicker, his face unreadable. His gaze never left Song Wanníng. The sword at his side trembled occasionally, almost… excited.
He reached out to press it down, gesturing for it to stay still.
Instead, it trembled harder.
He sighed and pressed it again. Only then did the blade fall quiet.
Back in the hall, Song Wanníng had already pushed open the second door.
As a renowned alchemist in the lower realm, the trials before her were hardly difficult.
Even though the Yaowang Sect's alchemy system differed from her own, she quickly grasped the essentials. In less than half a quarter-hour, she passed the trial and moved to the next stage.
"Well now," Wang Yang exclaimed, eyes bright with surprise. "She really has talent in alchemy, despite being a sword cultivator!"
It was rare—exceptionally rare—for a sword cultivator to also be skilled in alchemy.
Mu Zixu's face darkened. He had clearly noticed Song Wanníng's impressive performance too.
"Hmph, she already knew alchemy. She's just using shortcuts.
If we're talking raw talent, the girl in white is clearly the superior one."
Wang Yang: "..."
Mu Zixu just hated her. No matter what she did, it wouldn't be enough in his eyes. He stopped arguing, though. A faint trace of expectation stirred in his heart as he continued watching Song Wanníng.
And it was then that he realized—everyone's attention had shifted.
Now, the girl in black had become the center of focus.
The girl in white had faded into the background.