Even now, Song Wanníng could still remember the way Lu Nanfeng had looked when he self-righteously urged his master to embrace death. With a face full of lofty ideals, he had tried to convince her to sacrifice herself—only to then step on her dying body to earn himself a good name.
Ridiculous.
It was time he experienced that feeling for himself. If he truly had the spine to face death with dignity, then she wouldn't mind leaving him a complete corpse.
Song Wanníng stood quietly, eyes fixed on him, waiting for Lu Nanfeng's choice.
At this point, Lu Nanfeng finally understood. His master... had truly abandoned him.
"Master... I know I was wrong. Why won't you help me?"
All the resentment he had buried inside erupted at once as he shouted in fury, "I'm your disciple! How could you send me to die?!
How can you be so heartless?!
Are you even still my master?!"
Lu Nanfeng raged, venting his grievances with all the viciousness he could muster. Who would've thought his master would just give up on him like that? He had even been regretting his past actions. But now? It felt like he had done nothing wrong at all.
"The moment you betrayed me, I stopped being your master."
Song Wanníng curled her lips, watching him break down like a madman. Her mood brightened with every second.
Look at him. Until the whip lands, he'll never know pain.
Hearing those cold words, Lu Nanfeng finally realized he couldn't count on her. He shoved her hands off and staggered back, staring at her with a vicious glint in his eyes.
"Song Wanníng," he spat.
"Master Gu cast you aside because you deserved it!" He said it with cruelty, thinking it would cut her to the core.
But to Song Wanníng, it was laughable.
He was nothing but trash. Whether Gu Qingyuan liked her or hated her made no difference now.
Once love fades and the illusion breaks, it's easy to see the other person for what they truly are—garbage.
But the fact that Lu Nanfeng dared speak to her like that?
That pissed her off.
Without a word, she kicked him. Hard.
She didn't stop at one. Another kick came, then another. Each one calculated and precise. Painful, but never fatal.
She still needed him alive, after all.
"Aaagh—!"
Lu Nanfeng flew like a tattered kite, thrown around without the strength to resist. He was nothing more than a punching bag now.
The resentment from her past life poured out with every blow. Even when his face was bruised and swollen, his whole body covered in wounds, Song Wanníng didn't stop.
Lu Nanfeng felt utterly humiliated. He wanted to threaten her, to shout something harsh in return—but he was afraid she really would kill him.
So he swallowed the shame and took it in silence.
Because deep down, he didn't want to die.
—
Thud—!
Lu Nanfeng slammed into the ground again, face-first. He couldn't even stand. His face was a mess of bruises. His teeth were all knocked out. His limbs were bent at strange, grotesque angles.
Song Wanníng retracted her foot and casually ground her sole into the dirt, snuffing out the last shred of his dignity.
He stared blankly at the ground, still unable to understand why Song Wanníng had suddenly turned on him like this.
She looked down on him coldly, then walked over and squatted before him. Locking eyes with him, she gave a small, eerie smile. Her eyes gleamed with a strange light.
"It's been a while since we last heard from An Ze," she said softly. "I had a dream... In it, he was torn apart by a wild beast. Ah... That despairing scream. It really tugged at the heart."
Her face never lost that gentle, smiling expression. But nothing about her tone matched the words coming from her mouth.
In that instant, something clicked in Lu Nanfeng's mind. He trembled violently. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Song Wanníng, a core belief inside him shattering to pieces.
A red haze crept into his vision as he forced the words out through clenched teeth.
"You... didn't you say... you would always protect us...?"
He still remembered the day they became disciples—how their master had held their hands with a warm smile, showered them with generous gifts, and promised to keep them safe forever. And now, not even that much time had passed, and she had already murdered her own disciple with her own hands...
She was terrifying.
Absolutely terrifying.
Lu Nanfeng's pupils contracted. His shoulders shrank in fear.
"I don't want to die. I don't want to die!"
Song Wanníng let out a soft hum of surprise.
"Oh? So you actually remembered?"
She gave a mocking, disdainful smile.
Funny how they only remembered her promises, and never their own.
People really were selfish.
She rose to her feet, her smile growing.
"Don't worry. You're still my disciple, after all. Do you really think I'd be willing to send you to your death?"
The moment the words left her mouth, Lu Nanfeng's eyes lit up.
She smiled even wider.
"The most I'll do is pretend I know nothing about any of this. Whether you live or die... that's up to your own luck."
And with that, before Lu Nanfeng could react, she turned and left in a flash. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.
He stared after her, dazed. A strange mix of relief and disappointment stirred in his chest.
He was glad she didn't kill him. But she really had abandoned him.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to take out a pill, shoving it into his mouth. When he could finally stand, he staggered to his feet and limped off in search of safety.
In his current state, even a passing demon cultivator could take his life. He had to hide.
What he didn't realize was that the path he had chosen led only to death.
—
Song Wanníng returned to the Guardian's cave and gently knocked on the door of the inner chamber.
She didn't feel the least bit sorry for interrupting Mo Yuan's cultivation.
She looked entirely at ease.
Mo Yuan didn't mind either. He stepped out and asked what she needed.
"Help me send her off again."
Song Wanníng pointed to Ye Chuxue, who had recovered significantly.
As expected of the heroine—after just a single day, she'd already found some powerful item, and her injuries were almost healed.
Mo Yuan frowned, glaring at Ye Chuxue with obvious hostility. But he didn't question it. He followed Song Wanníng's command and relocated Ye Chuxue.
"All right, go back and cultivate. I'll come find you when I need you again."
Her tone was offhand, but to Mo Yuan, it made his ears turn red.
The more casually she treated him, the more it meant she trusted him.
Now that he had a chance to prove himself, he was all too eager. There wasn't the slightest hint of resentment. He turned and returned to the inner chamber. This time, he would seize the opportunity and raise his cultivation.
As the door closed behind him, the warmth in Song Wanníng's eyes vanished.
She still needed to figure out how to get the Xirang.
Once she could create a clone, she would replace Mo Yuan completely.
Her ambitions were enormous.
Having Mo Yuan lead the demon race in her name wasn't enough.
She wanted to control the entire demon race herself.
After all, she could cultivate with both demonic and spiritual energy.
Song Wanníng looked up at the sky, a trace of challenge flashing in her eyes.