The man's expression twisted hideously as he lunged for Song Wanníng again.
Song Wanníng didn't indulge him. She burned three of the portraits in her hand in one breath.
Bright flames danced and flickered, their glare stabbing into the man's eyes until they ached. He refused to believe he could be outplayed and tried to retaliate, but every attempt struck empty air. All he could do was watch helplessly as more than ten portraits were reduced to ash.
When he saw that Song Wanníng had only a little over twenty portraits left, his composure began to crumble. These portraits were his final spiritual tether after death. It was by clinging to the memory of his deceased wife that he had endured until now. And here Song Wanníng was, destroying them one by one, clearly aiming to shatter his resolve.
He glared at her, gritting his teeth until he finally stopped moving. "What exactly do you want?"
If she wanted to kill him, she would have done it long ago. She wouldn't toy with him like this without some other purpose.
Song Wanníng's lips curved. "A smart man."
The flame between her fingers still leapt and swayed, as if ready to consume all the remaining portraits in the next instant. Her gaze deepened as she studied him, a probing note in her tone. "Why has the Trial Tower appeared at this time? Do you know?"
It wasn't that Song Wanníng was being paranoid, but its sudden appearance was far too coincidental—especially with news having spread beforehand. It was anything but ordinary.
The man frowned. "That's what you're after?"
"What else? What could you possibly have that I want?"
Her half-smiling eyes swept him up and down. The man's face instantly darkened. This woman's tongue was venomous. He should never have asked—only brought humiliation upon himself.
"If I tell you the reason, will you spare these portraits?"
These paintings were the last proof his wife had once existed in this world. He couldn't bear to watch "her" be desecrated.
"Of course. I'm not petty enough to keep targeting a few pictures. If you tell me the truth, I'll store them for you here at the highest shelf of this study. As long as the Trial Tower remains, they'll remain. How about it?"
Her smile deepened. So the Trial Tower's appearance truly did hide another scheme.
The man hesitated, then fixed her with a deep look. "Fine. Keep your word. If you dare break your oath, forget about ascending in this lifetime."
Apparently afraid she might regret her promise, he cursed her first.
Song Wanníng's expression went flat. "They're only a few portraits. I don't need to lie about this."
"You see, she was the one who obtained the Trial Tower's realm token and opened it."
As he spoke, a curtain of light appeared, revealing the figure of Liu Yiyi.
"It's her again?" The little golden sword instantly bristled. This woman had schemed against Big Sister again and again, and now here she was once more.
Song Wanníng let out a soft laugh. Trouble had been coming one after another lately, and she hadn't yet had time to deal with Liu Yiyi—yet Liu Yiyi had chosen to walk straight into her hands.
So that's why everything had been so coincidental. This was all aimed at her from the start.
"You know this person?"
The man frowned, then quickly realized.
So he'd been used as well. His gaze hardened, resentment shifting to Liu Yiyi.
"This woman got the realm token some days ago and tried several times to enter, but always failed. Yet two days ago, she suddenly opened it toward the outside…"
His deliberately suggestive tone was a perfect bit of poison in Song Wanníng's ear.
Her brows arched slightly, killing intent flashing in her eyes. "Since she's delivered herself, there's no reason to let her walk out alive."
She turned to him. "I keep my word. I won't touch these portraits."
She took out a box, carefully placed the portraits inside, then set it high on the top shelf of the study.
The man's expression eased slightly, but just as he was about to speak, a blade of sword light suddenly slashed toward him.
His eyes widened in shock. Before he could react, his body dissolved into countless motes of starlight that drifted away into the air. That look of disbelief lingered in her mind as Song Wanníng lowered her gaze.
Her tone was lazy as she sheathed her sword. "I said I'd spare the portraits. I never said I'd spare you."
She lifted her eyes toward the image of Liu Yiyi in the light curtain, her lips curving into an icy smile.
The little golden sword hopped in excitement. "Bif Sister, kill her! Kill her!"
"Alright."
Song Wanníng's smile spread in her eyes, and in the next instant, she shot toward the image.
Following the passage, she stepped into Liu Yiyi's room, arriving just in time to block an incoming strike from the other woman.
Liu Yiyi had been in the middle of a fight, mind half on guessing Song Wanníng's situation, when suddenly a figure descended from above and stood in front of her.
She attacked on instinct, but with a casual wave of the newcomer's hand, her attack dissolved like foam.
Liu Yiyi's heart sank. As the magic dispersed, she finally saw who stood before her—and her eyes went wide in disbelief.
"How are you here? You were supposed to—"
"Supposed to be dead?" Song Wanníng smoothly finished for her, a depth in her gaze that made Liu Yiyi's heart give a shudder.
A bad premonition gripped her. Panic crept into her voice. "What do you mean by that? I don't understand."
Her heartbeat quickened, and she could hardly suppress the fear rising inside.
In a bid to save herself, she quickly switched to a pitiful, guilty tone. "Wanníng, I misunderstood you before. You're still angry with me, aren't you? It was all because Ye Chuxue deceived us. She said you'd never truly treated me as a friend, that you were two-faced…
She's the one who suggested I test you during the tournament. Really, you have to believe me. I've always thought of you as my best friend."
Tears welled in her eyes. Liu Yiyi was a master at this act—delicate, fragile, and stirring pity.
In her past life, Song Wanníng had believed her and helped her again and again. Liu Yiyi's poor family background had never mattered to her; she had encouraged her whenever she felt inferior. But that kindness had been repaid with betrayal.
Now, seeing this flimsy performance again, Song Wanníng only found it laughable.
"Enough. If you're not tired of acting, I am."
She cut off Liu Yiyi's words. Now that she'd completely fallen out with Ye Chuxue, Liu Yiyi clearly hoped to shove all the blame on her former ally. How convenient.
"I don't care about your reasons."
Her gaze shifted, the smile fading from her face.
Liu Yiyi's heart went cold. Her lashes trembled, tears hanging in her eyes in a way that made her look both ridiculous and pitiful.
She looked up to speak again, but saw Song Wanníng raising her sword, impatience written plainly on her face.
"No! Wanníng, listen to me—"
Liu Yiyi's composure broke entirely.
She couldn't die. She must not die.
"Wanníng, I was wrong, I was wrong! Please, don't kill me!
From now on, I'll listen to everything you say, alright? As long as you spare me, I'll follow you for the rest of my life!"