In that moment, she failed to suppress the malice in her heart. It blazed plainly across her face.
Ye Chuxue looked up at the water mirror.
What she saw was not reality, but a projection of her own thoughts.
Yet she had no idea.
All she saw was Song Wanníng walking toward the beautiful woman—the one holding the legacy—and preparing to hand it over.
Ye Chuxue's expression twisted. Consumed by the darkness within, she reached out and seized the unconscious Xiao Jiao.
She began to absorb its healing energy with all her might. Even knowing this would cause it irreparable harm, she showed not a trace of hesitation.
Xiao Jiao was only a beast. Strictly speaking, it wasn't even human. If it died, so be it.
As long as it helped her... then its death would have meaning.
At that moment, Ye Chuxue finally gave in to her own evil and ambition.
The mask of false righteousness was torn away completely.
Feng Jiuxiao clenched her fists. Her fury surged to its peak. She had misjudged her after all.
"You wretched girl!"
Feng Jiuxiao had lost the wager—and with it, all patience for Ye Chuxue. She rose in a flash and slapped her palm down at the water mirror.
Song Wanníng watched coldly but didn't stop her.
In the previous life, without herself, Yu Cheng, or the others around, Ye Chuxue had no need to hurry. She had more than enough time to shine.
Feng Jiuxiao had seen a strong, independent, and kind-hearted Ye Chuxue.
The legacy had been given to her naturally.
But in this life, everything was different.
Song Wanníng stared at Ye Chuxue's twisted face. Instead of feeling pleased, she found it deeply ironic.
"So this was the "pure-hearted" girl everyone spoke so highly of."
The massive palm crashed down. Ye Chuxue, who had been siphoning energy, was thrown violently against the wall.
Pfft—!
She coughed up blood, her entire body writhing in pain on the ground.
Then Feng Jiuxiao appeared before her.
The shock snapped Ye Chuxue back to her senses. Her eyes filled with fear and disbelief. When she saw Xiao Jiao in Feng Jiuxiao's arms, guilt and regret flooded her heart.
"I... I didn't mean to..."
She opened her mouth to explain, but no words would come.
She'd lost control—actually attacked Xiao Jiao.
She really must have gone mad. Absolutely mad.
"Hmph."
Feng Jiuxiao didn't want to hear another word. She raised her palm again and struck down. This time, the blow held nothing back, infused with Divine Transformation power.
Ye Chuxue's pupils shrank. Her face went pale with terror. But she was gravely injured. She couldn't even open her storage pouch. All she could do was wait for death.
Was she really going to die here?
She couldn't accept it.
She was a transmigrated heroine. These people, these legacies—they were supposed to be stepping stones!
The fatal blow neared.
Suddenly, a spiritual projection burst from her body and raised a palm to clash with Feng Jiuxiao. It was a protective soul imprint left behind by Gu Qingyuan.
The two palms collided, shaking the entire chamber with a roaring shockwave.
Ye Chuxue was caught in the backlash. Debris struck her bloodied body from all sides. Her face twisted from the pain. But Gu Qingyuan didn't spare her a glance.
He glared at Feng Jiuxiao, eyes filled with murderous intent. "Touch my disciple, and you'll answer to me!"
"Oh?"
Feng Jiuxiao narrowed her eyes at the spirit projection and sneered. She recalled Song Wanníng's earlier comment. So this was the so-called "master" who had gotten too close to his disciple?
What a disgrace. Birds of a feather, indeed.
"And a mere Nascent Soul dares bark before me? You've got some nerve." Her face turned icy. She raised her palm again, this time unleashing far greater force.
Gu Qingyuan's eyes flashed. He didn't hesitate—he pushed Ye Chuxue out of the room with all his strength.
He would take the blow himself.
Even if his soul would shatter, he had to save his disciple.
"How touching. Truly tear-jerking loyalty."
Song Wanníng's lips curled in mockery. Her eyes were cold as ice.
Feng Jiuxiao, too, found it nauseating. A flicker of killing intent passed through her gaze.
The palm strike landed.
Pfft—!
Gu Qingyuan grunted. The next instant, his projection burst apart into countless motes of light, scattering through the room.
Ye Chuxue, meanwhile, had only been shoved just beyond the chamber. She stared wide-eyed at the fading sparkles of her master's soul, her heart sinking into despair.
Was this really the end?
She couldn't accept it!
Why could Song Wanníng have everything—fortune, favor, and power—while she was left to die?
It wasn't fair!
Madness swelled within her like a tide, drowning all reason.
At that moment, Song Wanníng became the demon in Ye Chuxue's heart. An obsession she would never be able to remove. Only if Song Wanníng died could she be freed.
Feng Jiuxiao didn't hesitate. Her palm descended again.
If it hit, Ye Chuxue would surely die.
But then—the skies suddenly shifted.
A terrifying pressure descended from above, locking onto her.
A bolt of heavenly lightning struck down from the heavens.
Feng Jiuxiao's eyes widened in shock.
This was divine punishment!
She was merely a strand of spiritual will. If it struck her, she would be annihilated.
How could this be?!
The lightning was fast and wrathful, filled with destructive power.
Then—a figure appeared.
Song Wanníng wrapped one arm around Feng Jiuxiao and reached out with the other, snatching Ye Chuxue from the ground.
In the next instant, she hurled Ye Chuxue toward the lightning.
The motion was clean, swift, and without the slightest hesitation.
The violent heavenly lightning, which had been about to fall on Feng Jiuxiao, suddenly changed course.
It swerved—and struck Ye Chuxue instead.
The once-roaring divine thunder came to an abrupt halt, almost like someone popping a balloon.
Boom—
Ye Chuxue hit the ground hard and immediately lost consciousness.
The tribulation scattered. Feng Jiuxiao stared at the mess around her, thoughts churning.
A moment later, Song Wanníng gently set her down.
A flush rose to Feng Jiuxiao's cheeks. She coughed awkwardly.
"You knew harming her would trigger heavenly punishment?"
Feng Jiuxiao gave Song Wanníng a sideways glance. This woman's reaction had been way too fast. She was clearly a repeat offender. That toss she'd just pulled off? Gotta admit—it was kind of cool.
"Mm." Song Wanníng didn't deny it. She had wanted to see how the heavens would judge others.
Seeing the person they had chosen become the very knife that harmed Ye Chuxue… the heavens were probably furious too.
A faint smile tugged at her lips.
She felt a little vindicated.
"Hah."
Feng Jiuxiao let out a dry laugh.
Song Wanníng really was impossible to read.
Like a drifting cloud—ungraspable, untouchable.
And yet, she found herself walking toward Ye Chuxue anyway.
===
So… a few days ago, I already told you that my body felt totally broken, right?
Well. Newsflash: it's still broken.
The physical pain is still there, but what's worse is that my brain, while no longer foggy, is now just... lagging. And as someone who takes immense pride in how fast my brain usually works, this has been nothing short of torture. Seriously.
I feel so deeply insulted by myself, honestly.
Like—what do you mean I have to think before writing? Or actually analyze a sentence to understand its meaning??
Usually, I just glance at a sentence and bam—I know what it says, how it feels, and how to express it.
Now?
It's like my mind just stands there, blinking, going:
"Wait... give me a sec... what was that again?"
(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
Do you know how many times I got mad at myself for taking too long to understand a line? TOO MANY.
The betrayal. The insult. It's giving: who even am I anymore? (╥﹏╥)
Because of that, I've honestly lost the mood to keep translating this particular novel right now. It's not about the story. It's not about the characters. It's just... my brain is lagging and my heart is not here.
Even though the fog is clearing, the mood is broken. So until I feel emotionally reset again, I don't think I'll be able to push past 3 chapters per day for writing the continuation of my draft for these novel. I'm really sorry for that.
For now, I've decided to switch gears and start translating a new project I mentioned earlier in my "upcoming work" note:
A post-apocalyptic themed novel.
Hopefully, the genre shift and change of energy can help stabilize my mood and bring back the fire.
I understand this might be disappointing for those of you waiting for regular updates, and I truly apologize.
But I promise—once my mood improves, or once the cosmic interference (hello lunar eclipse, Sura month, & the fact that Earth on high frequency👀) settles down and stops messing with my Yin alignment, and my energy, I'll return to this project in full.
And when I do, I'll work on building up a thick chapter buffer like usual.
Thanks for your understanding and patience (｡•́‿•̀｡) You're the best.
With slightly fried neurons but much love,
— your translator, Reiya (ฅ'ω'ฅ)