Yuyi opened his eyes, the cold, damp air of the Netherworld Cave washing over him. The light from the Rebirth Formation had not yet completely faded. He lay in the center of the formation, his spiritual power exhausted, his cultivation having regressed to the early stages of Qi Refining. That weakness surged like a tide, leaving him barely enough strength to stand. Every rebirth after falling came with cultivation regression—this was a price Yuyi had already paid three times.
Yuyi struggled to his feet, looking around. The Netherworld Cave was empty. The dharma artifacts he had painstakingly accumulated in the cave were gone. Those defensive robes, spirit stone pouches, healing pills, and even the precious materials obtained from Netherworld Beasts—all had been divided up by cultivators hiding in the shadows. The cruelty of the cultivation world was displayed in full measure here. After a cultivator fell, the protection period for their remains lasted only ten breaths before other cultivators descended like hungry wolves to claim everything.
Only that ordinary iron sword lay lonely on the ground. A kind cultivator had returned it—perhaps because the sword was too ordinary to be worth keeping, or perhaps from some remaining shred of conscience. Yuyi picked up the iron sword. The blade was cold, reflecting his pale face. Notches from battle still marked the edge—traces left from his clash with Duanchang Jian. This ordinary iron sword was his only reliance, and a witness to his humiliation.
Bitterness rose in his heart. In the cultivation world, only strength was fundamental. Without strength, one couldn't even protect one's own dharma artifacts, let alone dignity or vengeance. Yuyi gripped the iron sword tightly, his knuckles whitening, his nails nearly embedding into his palms. "Xuesha Ren, Duanchang Jian, I will remember you. One day I will avenge today's humiliation!" He swore silently, his voice soft but carrying bone-deep hatred. This hatred was branded into his soul, never to be forgotten.
Yuyi turned and left the Netherworld Cave with determination. He resolved never to return here to cultivate. This place would only remind him of humiliation and hatred, of the pain of two falls. He would start anew, from zero. The darkness of the Netherworld Cave gradually receded behind him, but that humiliation was deeply branded in his heart, becoming his motivation to advance.
After leaving the Netherworld Cave, Yuyi returned outside Xuantian City. He spent half a month re-cultivating basic techniques. Every morning, he meditated in the wilderness outside the city, absorbing heaven and earth's spiritual energy, recovering his cultivation. At dawn, he would sit cross-legged on a green stone, eyes closed, regulating his breath, feeling spiritual energy slowly flowing through his meridians. In the afternoons, he went to the mines, striking rocks with his pickaxe again and again in exchange for meager spirit stones. Dust flew in the mines, sweat soaking his robes, but he never complained. At night, he refined dharma artifacts in his simple hut, melting mined ore into basic tools. The furnace fire reflected his determined face—each hammer strike carried his hopes for the future.
Half a month later, Yuyi finally accumulated enough spirit stones to re-equip himself with basic dharma artifacts. Though not as fine as before, they were sufficient for cultivation. Looking at his new robes and spirit sword, bitterness rose in his heart. Those precious artifacts he once possessed were now gone, forcing him to start from scratch. But Yuyi did not lose heart. He knew the cultivation path was filled with obstacles—only persistence could lead to the peak.
After returning to Xuantian Sect, Yuyi started again as a novice disciple. He discovered that his former fellow disciples had all learned intermediate techniques, their cultivation significantly advanced. Qingshan had even completed his training and gone down the mountain. The fellow disciples who had entered together had all surpassed him, becoming formal disciples. Yet Yuyi, because of his falls, had regressed in cultivation and was once again a novice. This gap filled his heart with mixed emotions, but he did not give up. Instead, his determination to cultivate grew even stronger.
Yuyi went alone to the precipice, standing against the wind. The cliff was steep, clouds swirling around it, with a bottomless abyss below. Mountain wind howled, stirring his robes as if telling of the cultivation world's heartlessness. He relearned the Fast Sword Art—though simple, it contained the foundation of Xuantian Sect. Yuyi practiced his sword, the light like silk winding around his fingers. Each strike carried his dedication to cultivation, his hope for the future. Sweat ran down his temples, but he did not slacken, practicing the forms again and again.
"I will find my own place to cultivate, no longer relying on the sect." Yuyi thought. He knew that only by relying on himself could he establish himself in the cultivation world. The sect's protection was temporary—true experts had to forge their own paths. He gazed at the sea of clouds in the distance, determination shining in his eyes.
Just then, the sect's Sound Transmission Jade Talisman suddenly rang. Urgent shouts came from within: "Tianyin Pavilion and Xuesha Sect are killing cultivators at the foot of Xuantian Sect! Fellow disciples, come quickly!" In the talisman, shouts rose one after another, mixed with fear and anger. Yuyi's heart tightened as he gripped his ordinary iron sword.
Righteous anger rose in Yuyi's heart. He gripped his iron sword and decided to go down the mountain to watch. The sect transmission carried voices criticizing Xuantian Sect: "Xuantian Sect's techniques are inferior in attack to other sects, inferior in defense! The Plum-Plucking Hand can kill a Xuantian Sect disciple using the Fast Sword Art in just three moves!" These words cut into Yuyi's heart like blades, igniting his anger. He didn't believe Xuantian Sect's techniques were so worthless. He wanted to see for himself—was it the techniques that were useless, or the cultivators who weren't working hard enough?
Driven by curiosity, Yuyi arrived at the foot of Xuantian Sect. The scene was chaotic—a one-sided slaughter. Two Tianyin Pavilion female cultivators, Xueji and Hanshuang, were like incarnations of Shura. Wherever they passed, Xuantian Sect disciples fell one after another. Xueji wielded twin blades, her blade light like blood, each strike taking a life. Her face bore a mad smile, as if slaughter was the greatest joy in the world. It was said that over a thousand cultivators had fallen to her hand—the entire cultivation world hated her. Hanshuang was cold as ice, her sword technique sharp, each strike precisely piercing vital points without any emotion.
The Xuesha Sect disciples were even more brutal, slaughtering Xuantian Sect disciples like dogs. They wielded blood-colored long blades, their edges emitting nauseating bloody qi. Xuantian Sect disciples scattered in all directions but couldn't escape. Remains covered the ground, blood staining the earth. The air was thick with the smell of blood, suffocating.
Anger rose in Yuyi's heart as he saw a Xuantian Sect female disciple being attacked by a Xuesha Sect disciple, in mortal danger. The female disciple's cultivation wasn't high—only late Qi Refining. Facing a Foundation Building Xuesha Sect disciple, she had no power to resist. Her robes were already cut, multiple wounds bleeding. Her eyes were filled with despair, as if she already saw her end.
Yuyi charged forward, using the Fast Sword Art to fight the Xuesha Sect disciple. His Fast Sword Art hadn't reached the fiftieth level, so he couldn't project sword qi—only close combat. Yuyi's sword technique was sharp, the light like silk winding toward the Xuesha Sect disciple's wrist. The disciple sneered, swinging his blade down. The blade force was powerful, carrying bloody sha qi. Yuyi felt the oppression of the blade force, his heart tightening, but he didn't retreat.
Yuyi dodged sideways, his sword tip turning to stab at the disciple's ribs. The Xuesha Sect disciple reacted quickly, bringing his blade back to block. The two became entangled, sword light and blade shadow interweaving. Though Yuyi's cultivation was inferior, his sword technique was refined, and for a moment he didn't lose ground. Each of his strikes contained the essence of Xuantian Sect's sword arts—the Fast Sword Art was simple but full of variations.
Seeing this, the female disciple also swung her sword to help. She attacked from the side, distracting the Xuesha Sect disciple. Caught between two opponents, the disciple gradually showed openings. Yuyi seized the chance, thrusting his sword into the disciple's chest. The Xuesha Sect disciple's eyes went wide, looking at the blade in his chest in disbelief, then fell motionless, blood gushing out.
Yuyi had killed someone for the first time. His emotions were complex—tension, guilt, and excitement all interweaving. His hand trembled slightly. The blood dripping from his blade made him dizzy. This was his first time personally ending a life—the feeling was both strange and real. He looked at the remains on the ground, emotions rising that he couldn't describe.
Yuyi was about to comfort the female disciple when he suddenly heard a warning: "Watch out for an ambush!" He spun around, but it was too late. A blood-colored blade light slashed from the shadows, impossibly fast. Yuyi only managed to turn his body slightly before the blade pierced his chest. Intense pain instantly spread through his body as he felt his life force rapidly draining.
Before dying, Yuyi saw a white-robed female cultivator standing not far away. Her white robes were like snow, her face stunningly beautiful, but her eyes held complex emotions. That was Xuying—the mysterious female cultivator he had seen before. Yuyi wanted to speak but had no strength. His vision gradually darkened, consciousness fading. His third fall came so suddenly, so humiliatingly.
Reborn again, his cultivation regressed again. Yuyi lay in the Rebirth Formation, his whole body weak. His mining skills were intact, but his cultivation had hit rock bottom. He smiled bitterly—this was already his third fall. Each fall meant cultivation regression, meant starting over. But he didn't give up. He knew the cultivation path was filled with obstacles.
Yuyi hurried down the mountain to retrieve his dharma artifacts. Xuying had already killed Dao Ba, avenging him. The Xuesha Sect disciple's remains lay on the ground, blood still fresh. Xuying stood to the side, her white robes still unstained, as if the slaughter had nothing to do with her.
Yuyi looked at Xuying, complex emotions rising in his heart. Xuying advised Yuyi to leave Xuantian Sect and go to Tianjian Sect. "How did you end up in such a hopeless sect? Go to Tianjian Sect—after rebirth you can choose a new sect." Xuying's voice was cold, carrying a hint of concern. A trace of reluctance showed in her eyes, as if she didn't want to see Yuyi continue suffering at Xuantian Sect.
Xuying charged a fee to return the dharma artifacts: "These things are worth about ninety thousand spirit stones total. Just pay me forty-five thousand." Yuyi only had thirty thousand spirit stones, owing fifteen thousand. He took the dharma artifacts with bitterness, feeling both grateful and guilty toward Xuying. He didn't know when he could repay this debt.
Xuying told him the ambusher's name: "The one who ambushed you is called Dao Ba, a Xuesha Sect disciple." Yuyi memorized this name, silently swearing to personally avenge this in the future. He wouldn't forget this hatred.
Yuyi insisted on staying at Xuantian Sect: "I don't believe Xuantian Sect is so useless. I will stay at Xuantian Sect! Achievement is personal, not granted by the sect!" His voice was firm, his eyes shining with stubborn determination. Lingxiao had once said his stubborn nature wouldn't let him rest unless he was going against others. Now it seemed true.
Xuying looked at Yuyi, something complex flashing in her eyes. She seemed to want to say something, but in the end only sighed softly. She didn't try to persuade him further, turning to leave. Her white robes fluttered in the wind like a white cloud. Her figure gradually disappeared into the distance, leaving Yuyi standing alone.
Yuyi turned off the sect's sound transmission, no longer participating in sect conflicts. He would focus on business and cultivation, beginning a new life.
In the sect transmission, disciples were still discussing. "So many people fell today. Those two female demons are Tianyin Pavilion's number one and number four experts. One is called Xueji, one is called Hanshuang. Especially Xueji—she was among the earliest to enter the cultivation world, a killer from the very beginning."
"Bah, what's the use in hating? She's still living well. How many can can do anything to her? Even Xuesha Sect's number one expert Xuesha Ren only fought her to a draw. Duanchang Jian has to yield to her. Forget it—our Xuantian Sect experts are worthless! Every so often they come slaughter us. My friend in Xuesha Sect told me they use our Xuantian Sect disciples to practice combat experience, and also to blood their blades!"
Yuyi listened to these words, growing irritated. He didn't care about this anymore. He would prove himself, prove Xuantian Sect wasn't useless.
Yuyi stood at the precipice, facing the wind. He gripped his ordinary iron sword tightly, determination flashing in his eyes. The cultivation path had only just begun. He would walk his own path, no longer drifting with the current. Even if the road ahead was filled with thorns, he would walk it firmly. Because he knew—only persistence could lead to the peak.