Messy Han Qianxue

Han Qianxue had a long, long dream.

In the dream, she relived her dazzling life as an observer, watching it unfold like a revolving lantern.

It began with her sudden death in her previous life, followed by her transmigration to the Azure Cloud Continent, where she became an unremarkable menial disciple of the Flying Snow Sect.

To be honest, as a mere mortal with no innate talent for cultivation, she should never have touched the fringes of immortality. But her decent looks met the sect’s recruitment standards, so she was taken in—to do menial labor.

Those days were truly bitter. The menial disciples of the Flying Snow Sect were different from others—to put it nicely, they were called "disciples"; to put it bluntly, they were nothing but beasts of burden, expected to do everything!

At the break of dawn, she would break ice. In the freezing winter mornings, she dragged her half-awake body to the frozen Sword-Washing Pond, laboriously chipping away at the ice to clean the weapons of a hundred outer disciples. Even when her hands turned purple from the cold, she had to polish every weapon until they gleamed!

At noon, she sorted grains. Under the scorching sun, she picked the plumpest kernels from thousands of pounds of spirit rice, then toiled in the sweltering steam-filled kitchen to prepare meals for the disciples.

At midnight, she pounded herbs. A hundred pounds of spirit herbs had to be ground into medicinal powder, a process that allowed no rest. The pestle rubbed her hands raw, blisters forming and bursting under the irritation of the herbs, the pain searing into her bones!

She slept less than four hours a day before repeating the same grueling tasks.

The extreme physical and mental toll was unbearable, and even now, looking back on that wretched past, the memories remained etched into her soul.

In this cultivation world where strength reigned supreme, weakness was the original sin!

Just because she was a mortal, because she had no spiritual roots, because she was "trash," she had to endure abuse!

So, when the chat group bound itself to her, a light pierced the darkness of her world.

"I will climb, step by step, step by step, all the way to the top!"

"I refuse to be bullied anymore—I can’t take it! I won’t let others trample over me! I will become an immortal! I will ascend as an Ancestor!!!"

In the dream, Han Qianxue watched her past self swear this oath in the snow, and her long-dormant Dao heart burned anew.

For it was from that day onward that the renowned "Frostblade Immortal Venerable" of the Azure Cloud Continent was born!

With the chat group’s help, she escaped the hellish Flying Snow Sect.

As a mortal, her cultivation was agonizingly slow—but it didn’t matter. She had patience and resolve. If one year wasn’t enough, she’d take ten. If ten weren’t enough, she’d take a hundred!

As long as her lifespan held out, as long as she still drew breath, she would never stop!

Talent was lacking? Effort would make up for it. Perseverance was all she had.

Ten years to reach Qi Refinement. A century for Foundation Establishment. Three centuries to form a Golden Core. A millennium to ascend as a Nascent Soul!

By the standards of the chat group’s members—who had access to its vast resources—her progress was painfully slow. Every breakthrough came just before her vitality began to decline!

But every step was solid, and the bitterness of her struggles was hers alone to bear.

After reaching Nascent Soul, she returned to the Flying Snow Sect.

But alas, those who had tormented her were long gone. The place where she had suffered was now unrecognizable. The world had moved on without her...

She stood in silence for a long time before shedding her immortal grace, donning the robes of a menial disciple once more, and reliving the work of her past.

Hah. It was just as bitter as she remembered. The only difference? She was no longer weak. A simple spell cleared a day’s worth of labor for hundreds of menial disciples in an instant!

Easy, wasn’t it?

So why hadn’t the Flying Snow Sect’s Nascent Soul Patriarch done the same back then?

Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?

"Without rules, there is no order. Menial disciples are mortals. Allowing them to glimpse immortality is grace enough—how dare they complain?"

That was the sect master’s answer, and Han Qianxue remembered it well.

In other words: "We’ve given you lowly mortals a chance to brush against the immortal path. Shouldn’t you be grateful instead of whining?"

Hah. True, even as menial disciples, prolonged exposure to immortal artifacts did grant them longer lifespans than ordinary mortals—a selling point the Flying Snow Sect loved to boast about.

But they never mentioned that those extra years of life were just more time to be exploited!

Mortals worked from sunrise to sunset. Menial disciples? They had far more to worry about. Fail a task? Punishment. Slack off? Whipping. During peak periods, working days and nights without rest was the norm!

And don’t think hard work would earn you a promotion to outer disciple. Once a menial, always a menial—there was no hope of advancement!

Want to quit?

Too bad. The sect’s standards were high. As long as you had any use left, you were trapped. Death wasn’t even an escape!

So, to settle the score with her past self, Han Qianxue acted.

Even among Nascent Souls, there were hierarchies. The Flying Snow Sect’s master, despite centuries of cultivation, was no match for the monster who had shattered the taboo of mortals ascending to immortality!

In the end, the sect master’s cultivation was crippled, and he was demoted to a menial disciple—forced to taste the bitterness he had sown. A living death, filled with regret!

With her heart’s knot resolved, Han Qianxue broke through to the Divine Transformation Realm in a single day!

At this stage, she completely shed the limitations of her mortal body. In fact, its simplicity became an advantage, accelerating her cultivation at an unprecedented rate!

Even the most monstrous geniuses needed decades to advance from Divine Transformation to Soul Unity.

She did it in three years!

Her speed was so absurd that it drew the attention of the Azure Cloud Heavenly Dao. Discovering she was an unregistered transmigrator, it immediately summoned heavenly tribulations to suppress her!

At the time, she wasn’t strong enough to defy a Heavenly Dao with the power of a True Immortal.

Fortunately, the chat group saved her time and again.

After a thousand years of struggle, on her three-thousandth birthday, she ascended to the True Immortal Realm, her aura at its peak—and she rebelled against Heaven itself!

The Azure Cloud Heavenly Dao surrendered on the spot, willingly becoming Han Qianxue’s obedient steward.

A millennium of trials, and she had finally fulfilled her youthful ambition: to become an Immortal Venerable, hailed as the Frostblade Ancestor!

Yet, she was still not free.

Having accepted the chat group’s gifts, how could she refuse when it called upon her?

Thus, under its orders, she established the Frostveil Blessed Land and unveiled the High Isle Immortal Manor, nurturing talents in preparation for… something.

She didn’t know what they were waiting for, but she carried out her duties diligently, working with the Heavenly Dao to raise countless prodigies within the manor.

Then, the day she broke through to the Celestial Immortal Realm, everything changed.

The chat group revealed its fangs—the anchor point in her consciousness, once docile, suddenly transformed into a powerful will-brand!

It didn’t harm her mind, didn’t influence her thoughts, didn’t interfere in the slightest.

But she knew: if she disobeyed at a critical moment, this brand would make her comply.

Han Qianxue had expected this. She just hadn’t thought the chat group would drop the act so brazenly.

Of course. Nothing in this world came without a price—it had all been decided long ago.

But she had no regrets. Without the chat group, she would never have come this far.

If given the choice again, she would still embrace it without hesitation.

"Enough, this dream should end now. What exactly are you trying to do to me, you despicable sneak attacker?!"

After witnessing the entirety of her life play out before her, Han Qianxue suddenly lashed out with a furious demand.

The next instant.

The dream, so vivid it had felt real, shattered into nothingness. In the vast, blank expanse of her consciousness, a figure clad in deep indigo Daoist robes stood with his back to her, his hands moving deftly as he dismantled the will-imprint—the anchor point of the chat group—into scattered fragments...

At the sight, Han Qianxue’s primordial spirit and true soul froze in shock.

Wha—what in the...?

The will-imprint she had never been able to budge, no matter how hard she tried, was being effortlessly taken apart by him?

No—not just taken apart!

He was meticulously disassembling it without triggering the slightest resistance from the imprint!

And then... he reassembled it!

Heavens, why is he stuffing something else inside it now?!

Why isn’t the will-imprint reacting at all?!

Is this even the same will-imprint she knew?

Back then, just a slight probe from her had scorched her primordial spirit with a terrifying backlash—it took her a full decade to recover!

Yet now, this guy was practically molding it into whatever shape he desired... and it was letting him do as he pleased?!

Oh no... he’s after the chat group. My mission, my group, my... everything’s gone...

Han Qianxue’s mind was in complete disarray. She wondered if she was still trapped in the dream.