"You see that storage ring on your finger? I gave it to you when you joined the sect.
The Heavenly Silkworm Immortal Robe you're wearing, a mid-grade defensive spiritual artifact—I gifted that to you ten years ago.
The Cloudchaser Boots on your feet, high-grade flying gear—I gave you those seven years ago.
The feathered crown in your hair, another mid-grade defensive piece—I handed that over five years ago.
Everything on your body, every single item, was given by me. Not to mention all the pills you've used over the years.
You eat what I provide, use what I offer, and still turn your back on me.
If you're so full of pride, then give it all back. Right now."
Song Wanníng listed out each of An Ze's belongings with cool precision. Around them, disciples exchanged glances, some clearly envious.
Those treasures—just one would be considered a luxury. Yet An Ze, surrounded by gifts, hadn't known how to treasure them.
And now, everyone started to see him for what he was—ungrateful.
"You—!" An Ze hadn't expected Song Wanníng to confront him like this. Flushed with anger and embarrassment, he wished he could crawl into a hole and vanish.
The mocking gazes from fellow disciples only made it worse, like pins stabbing into his back.
"Fine, I'll return them. As if I cared for any of this!" He shouted with a stiff neck, voice full of indignation, then furiously began stripping everything off.
Within moments, he was down to a simple white inner robe. He emptied his storage ring, crammed everything into a basic storage pouch, and changed into a pair of plain boots, his long hair falling messily around his shoulders.
Then, like he was venting all his frustration, he flung the pouch at Song Wanníng's feet.
No matter how humiliated he felt, he would not show weakness. Not in front of her.
Song Wanníng remained unbothered. Her gaze shifted toward a four-legged beast working diligently on the mountaintop nearby. With a casual wave of her hand, all of An Ze's belongings floated over and dropped before the beast. "These things suit you better. They're yours now."
"Song Wanníng!!!" An Ze completely snapped.
She had compared him to a beast.
The smile on Song Wanníng's face vanished in an instant. She stepped forward and slapped him, hard.
And again. And again. Until An Ze's face swelled like a pig's head.
"No respect for your elders. As a senior of this sect, it's only right I give you a proper lesson." She made sure to control her strength—not enough to knock him out, but enough for him to feel every bit of shame, every sting of her palm.
He was furious. Humiliated. He wanted to kill her.
But what could he do?
This was nothing more than the powerless rage of a loser.
An Ze's bloodshot eyes burned with hatred. He clenched his fists and made a silent vow: the shame of today would be repaid a hundredfold.
He would make her regret this. He would erase her from this world.
From this moment on, there was no longer any shred of master and disciple between them.
.
An Ze collapsed in a corner, discarded like trash. No one dared to help him.
Song Wanníng still wore a smile, but her presence was terrifying—like a rakshasa wrapped in silk. No one dared provoke her.
Even Ye Chuxue and Bai Yang kept silent, not daring to stir up trouble now.
The entire peak fell into silence.
The Sect Master had held back, but now he finally stepped forward, unable to endure any longer.
"Junior Sister Song, what you choose to do is your business. We won't interfere. But for the sake of our shared sect ties, about Junior Brother Gu's poison..."
He was growing more and more confused about Song Wanníng.
Decades ago, after an expedition left both Gu Qingyuan and her gravely wounded, Song Wanníng had thrown herself into alchemy without rest, fighting illness just to craft pills to heal him.
And now… she stood unmoved, watching Gu Qingyuan suffer from poison.
The deeper the affection once was, the colder the indifference now felt.
Was she just angry—or had she truly stopped caring?
"I actually do have an antidote pill."
Song Wanníng smiled faintly at his words and slowly took out a single pill.
"This is the Hundred Venoms Pill. It can neutralize most known poisons."
She'd deliberately used the name to spite Ye Chuxue. In their past life, Ye Chuxue's 'Hundred Venoms Pill' had been famous, a rare and coveted treasure.
As expected, Ye Chuxue stiffened the moment she heard the name.
Her fists clenched silently.
"Then give it to Junior Brother Gu at once!"
The Sect Master was overjoyed, his brows lifting in relief.
So, she had only been angry. Deep down, she still cared for Gu Qingyuan.
But Song Wanníng frowned slightly, her lips curved in a subtle, unreadable smile as she slowly raised the pill.
"There's only one. Should I give it to that innocent disciple... or to Gu Qingyuan?"
"Of course to Junior Brother Gu!"
The Sect Master replied without hesitation.
An outer disciple or a pillar of the sect? The choice was obvious.
But as soon as the words left his mouth, the disciples nearby shifted. Their expressions changed, faint resentment hidden in their eyes.
Yes, Gu Qingyuan was important. But he had taken the poison pill as part of a bet. He brought it upon himself.
Wu Dan, on the other hand, had been dragged into this by Ye Chuxue and was still lying unconscious in a corner. No one had paid her any attention.
And now, the Sect Master openly said to abandon her.
They were all low-ranked disciples. How could they not feel bitter?
The Sect Master realized too late that his words had caused a stir. He coughed awkwardly, trying to backtrack.
"What I meant was, Junior Brother Gu's injuries seem more serious... Once Junior Sister Song refines another pill, we can give it to that disciple."
"The Hundred Venoms Pill requires extremely rare ingredients. Finding them again will take time, and even with the materials, it would take at least a month to produce a new one."
Song Wanníng shook her head and sighed softly.
"That little disciple won't last that long. What now?"
There was a glimmer of schadenfreude in her eyes, and the Sect Master felt a chill deep in his heart.
She had done this on purpose.
How dare she?
"Lan Le, since Junior Sister Song can't refine another pill for now, do you have any alternatives?"
The Sect Master, holding in his anger, turned to Lan Le, trying to provoke him.
Lan Le had always tried to compete with Song Wanníng in alchemy, even training obsessively to surpass her.
Surely he wouldn't miss this chance to show her up.
But Lan Le only gave a cold shake of his head.
"If Junior Sister Song can't do it, then this old man is helpless as well."
He might not like her, but between her and Gu Qingyuan or Ye Chuxue, she was far more tolerable.
Did they think he was beneath them?
Let them suffer, then.
Another dead end. The Sect Master was about to explode.
They were all mad. Completely mad.
Even these alchemists refused to show him respect. His nostrils flared with fury, yet he could do nothing.
Then, Song Wanníng spoke again, her voice as graceful as ever, yet dripping with malice and mockery.
"Ye Chuxue, since this all started because of you, you decide who gets the pill."
She always talked about fairness, didn't she?
She wanted to be seen as kind and selfless.
Well then, here was her chance.
Let's see what she chooses.