Ye Chuxue forced herself to stand, her face growing darker by the second.
"Depending on men really was useless."
She needed to return and study the Yaowang Sect's inheritance as soon as possible. Only with strength could she truly slap Song Wanníng in the face.
Never again would she beg for her pills.
...
Song Wanníng returned to the sect quietly, without drawing any attention. Back in her secluded cultivation chamber, she bathed and rested for the night. At dawn the next day, she began preparing to comprehend the legacy now embedded in her mind.
She had no intention of walking the Path of Ruthless, but an inheritance from a true powerhouse was still worth studying.
Who knew? It might even offer a chance for her strength to rise again.
Taking a slow breath, she steadied her thoughts, closed her eyes, and sank inward.
In her spiritual sea, the nameless scripture gently unfurled like a vortex, pulling her consciousness straight inside.
The next moment, she arrived in a strange place. It was pitch black all around, save for the faint outlines of fields of rice swaying in the dark. In the distance stood rows of small houses, lit by flickering yellow lamps that glowed like dim stars in a sea of night.
She had expected a dazzling sword strike or some awe-inspiring revelation, not... this. Her brows knit slightly, but she stepped forward anyway. She reached the edge of the village. A small child spotted her and immediately brightened up.
"Pretty big sister, who are you looking for?"
The little girl had a blade of foxtail grass in her mouth. Her hair looked like it had been cut with a kitchen knife, and the patched clothes she wore had two new holes in them, as if something had just torn through.
"Just passing through." Song Wanníng remained calm, letting her gaze sweep across the village. She was trying to discern the meaning behind this illusion.
"Are you here to stay the night? Come on, I'll take you in. I'll tell Grandpa Village Chief!" The child beamed with innocent joy and tugged at Song Wanníng's hand, dragging her toward the village.
Perplexed but curious, she followed.
Most of the houses were dark. Only a few glowed with warm light and rising cooking smoke. The air was thick with the scent of life.
To someone like Song Wanníng, who had grown up in the cultivation world, this kind of scene felt strangely unfamiliar—yet not unwelcome.
Thanks to the village chief's arrangement, she was housed for the night with a local family. The woman of the house was a widow. Her family included an ailing mother in her fifties and two half-grown children. They were clearly struggling to survive.
Their clothes were ragged and thin, yet no sorrow showed on their faces.
They welcomed Song Wanníng warmly.
"You'll have to forgive us, young lady. Our house is simple. This is the best room we have."
The woman rubbed her hands together nervously, offering a shy smile.
Song Wanníng looked around.
The walls were made of mud and straw, rough and full of gaps. It was summer now, but if it had been cold, the wind would've cut right through. There was a single bed and a rickety vanity that looked older than its owner.
There wasn't even a table.
"Are you hungry? I could make some noodles—"
"Noodles? Mama, I want noodles too!" The seven-year-old sniffled, his eyes shining with hope.
"Be good, Gou'er. Once we harvest the rice, I'll make noodles for all of you."
The woman gently patted his head.
"Yay! We'll have noodles in a few days!" The boy jumped with joy, as if those noodles were as rare as celestial peaches.
Song Wanníng's brows furrowed. She couldn't grasp the deeper meaning of this scene yet. "No need. I'm not hungry. Please, go on with your evening. I'll rest on my own."
There was no need to act until she understood what this illusion was trying to teach. If she couldn't even discern that much, then she had no right to receive such a powerful legacy.
The woman took the children and left.
Song Wanníng pulled out a meditation cushion from her storage ring and sat cross-legged in the center of the room.
Outside, everything was still. Her thoughts began to drift.
...
"Junior Sister Ye, there's no need for you to walk us all the way here."
Lu Nanfeng smiled as he walked beside Ye Chuxue. Their group had just returned from the Yaowang Sect ruins.
Ye Chuxue held a small parcel of pastries in her hands. At his words, she smiled gently. "Since Li Ruo joined Yunxiao Peak, I've never come to visit her. That's my fault.
Now that Senior Aunt Song is in seclusion, I naturally want to show a little more concern." Her voice was soft and sweet. Even her wind-tossed hair seemed to carry fragrance.
Lu Nanfeng stared at her, briefly dazed. She was beautiful no matter how long he looked.
"What's there to care about with a three spiritual-root disciple?" An Ze sneered.
He continued, "Master only took her in to provoke the rest of us. You don't have to worry about her."
Among the core disciples, everyone had single or dual spiritual roots. Li Ruo, with her three, was nothing short of a joke.
But as soon as he said it, Ye Chuxue's expression shifted. She forced a smile. "Junior Brother An, I was born with five spiritual roots…"
"You and her are nothing alike, Senior Sister!" An Ze immediately realized his mistake and tried to backtrack. He had forgotten Ye Chuxue had once been a low-ranking outer disciple too.
"Junior Brother An, all under Heaven are equal. You mustn't judge others by their roots."
Ye Chuxue seized the chance to lecture him, laying down principles with a serene air. Lu Nanfeng and An Ze looked visibly awed. In their eyes, Ye Chuxue was pure and noble, set apart from the rest.
Only Gu Qingyuan and Bai Yang looked distracted.
It was obvious Ye Chuxue hadn't come for Li Ruo. She had come to confirm whether Song Wanníng was truly in seclusion.
In the past, that wouldn't have seemed suspicious.
But now... her actions felt increasingly paranoid.
Before long, the group arrived at the main hall.
Li Ruo had just returned from the back mountain, still stained with blood. She froze at the sight of the motionless crowd.
"Senior Brother, you're back!"
She ran up with a bright smile.
"Mm."
Bai Yang nodded coolly. "Where's Master?"
"Master has been in seclusion this whole time."
Li Ruo's eyes lit up as she answered.
"Junior Sister Li, has Senior Aunt Song not left seclusion at all?"
Ye Chuxue couldn't wait to ask. She hadn't even offered the pastries in her hands.
"No, she hasn't."
Li Ruo shook her head. "Master said this seclusion will last at least six months."
"Six months?"
Bai Yang's brows creased, worry flickering across his face.
Ever since Master had started ignoring him, the thought lingered in his heart.
Now she was cutting herself off for half a year?
He pressed his lips together, deep in thought.
Maybe this was for the best. He would use the time to figure out how to repair their relationship.