The stunning sword strike Ying Bing had just executed was witnessed by all present.
The Holy Maiden of the Drizzle Pavilion, ranked sixth on the Hidden Dragon List and possessing the physique of the Heavenly Demon Enchantress, was undeniably formidable.
In that fleeting moment of lightning and sparks, even an Outer Realm expert who failed to concentrate might have been ensnared by her illusions.
This was precisely how Yin Mianmian had managed to slay several Hidden Dragon prodigies and escape unscathed.
Yet just now, her Heavenly Demon Phantom Form had been shattered by a single sword stroke!
A heart as clear as a sword’s edge!
The elders present inwardly admitted that, at the same cultivation level, none of them could achieve what Ying Bing had just accomplished.
Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that, in their entire lives, they had never encountered someone like her.
The young girl had treated the sword scar as a divine diagram, comprehending its ultimate form—a feat already beyond imagination.
But what of Ying Bing?
The elders exchanged glances, each seeing solemnity and anticipation in the other’s eyes.
They were likely about to witness a historic moment for the Hengyun Sword City.
"Please," Elder Zeng gestured.
Ying Bing gave a slight nod, her serene gaze shifting to Li Mo.
Had it not been for their spiritual exchange and the resonance of their souls, she would never have glimpsed that unique moon or attained her current state of sword-heart clarity.
Thus, if she were to gain anything from the Hengyun Sword Scar now, his presence would undoubtedly be part of it.
After a brief pause, she suddenly parted her lips and spoke softly:
"Give me the painting."
"Uh..."
Now it was Li Mo’s turn to be mentally flustered. Caught off guard by the request, he hesitated before retrieving the jade slip on which he had copied the sword-scarred boulder.
"Not this one."
"Huh? Then...?"
Li Mo tentatively produced the portrait of the noble lady.
Then, he watched as Ying Bing took out the big-headed doll from her sleeve and gently pressed it onto a corner of the painting.
With a surge of true energy, the doll’s large head left a faint imprint on the paper.
"This was also part of me. You missed it."
"Is this a group photo?"
Li Mo couldn’t help but chuckle.
It looked more like a seal stamp.
The young girl turned and walked toward the sword-scarred boulder. At that moment, the lingering aftermath of the earlier clash between Outer Realm experts had yet to dissipate, and a light drizzle fell through the pale blue sky.
Her blue-patterned dress seemed even more ethereal against the rain’s curtain, her silhouette hazy—as if she were stepping out of a painting or walking into one.
"Sky blue waits for misty rain, while I wait for you~"
"The moonlight is fished up, blurring the ending~"
Li Mo tucked away the painting and couldn’t resist humming a few lines.
To be fair, his singing wasn’t half bad.
Had there been a music cultivator from the Fragrant Tower present, they might have praised him for possessing the potential to touch the Dao through song.
"Big Brother Li... what was that song? It sounded... really nice..."
Princess Little Jiang had discovered yet another of Li Mo’s talents.
Li Mo smiled. "I’ll teach you sometime."
"But I... I..."
"It’s fine. You’ll learn if I guide you hand in hand."
"!"
Jiang Chulong’s small frame trembled. Thanks to her master’s vivid PowerPoint-style animations, though she still struggled with speech, her imagination was remarkably active.
In an instant, she could already picture the scene.
But she... she stuttered...
Could she really learn like this?
If it was Big Brother Li teaching her... then maybe... maybe she could?
......
At that moment.
A strange, indescribable ripple emanated from the sword-scarred boulder, reaching the ears of everyone present.
Not just those atop the Sword Tower, but even the chaotic crowd of martial artists below could faintly sense something.
It was as though an unknown presence was murmuring from the depths of the void.
Every word seemed profound and mysterious.
Some strained to hear clearly, hoping to glean some enlightenment, but the harder they listened, the more indistinct the words became—until their very spirits teetered on the brink of collapse.
Countless gazes, filled with longing or stupefaction, converged on the Sword Tower’s peak.
While the onlookers felt immersed in the moment, Ying Bing, standing at the epicenter of the ripple, beheld an entirely different scene.
Buzz—
The divine patterns on her soul flickered faintly.
Following the clear cry of a celestial bird, moonlight draped over her like a mantle.
Just as Ying Bing reached out with her soul to touch the sword-scarred boulder, she realized she was now standing in an expanse of emptiness.
Facing her was another version of herself.
Unfamiliar yet familiar.
No.
Was that her past self, from the time she first glimpsed the divine?
Or perhaps it was the lingering obsession in her heart—her devotion to the martial path, to the Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword.
That "other her" was cold and emotionless, her eyes devoid of feeling, yet holding an identical Frost Sky Sword.
Those mirror-like eyes gazed over, and though no words were spoken, it felt as though a thousand questions had been asked.
"Have you forgotten your convictions?"
"Have you forgotten your martial path?"
"Are you... still yourself?"
One accusation after another came crashing down.
She had no intention of answering with words. Instead, she lightly raised her Frost Sky Sword.
Words were feeble.
Right or wrong, the sword would answer.
The "other Ying Bing" moved. A tyrannical, heaven-defying sword light—one that sought to seize the will of the heavens—erupted like divine retribution, as if to swallow the Ying Bing who had strayed from her true self.
This was the sword of the past Ying Bing, directed at the Ying Bing of the present!
It was the truly flawless and complete "Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword Art"!
With decisive momentum, it swept forth!
"That sword strike..."
Ying Bing closed her eyes, as if seeing once more the bright moon she had witnessed during the fusion of their souls.
But it was not merely a moon.
Nor was it just the Dao of the Lunar Yin.
Within it, there was also a sword.
In that fleeting instant, Ying Bing struck.
That divine intent, that clarity, that newfound understanding of the Dao—now merged seamlessly into the original "Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword," becoming one with it.
Moonlight erupted around her.
As if behind her, an ethereal moon had risen.
Grasping the sword's radiance, she descended like an immortal from the Lunar Yin itself. The technique had yet to arrive, yet its artistic conception had already manifested.
Flawless and untainted.
Simultaneously swift and slow.
Tranquil yet surging, heartless yet full of sentiment, the softest yet the hardest!
This was her answer.
To follow nature’s course—was this not the Heavenly Dao itself?
Clang—
The tips of two Frostblade swords met, a contest of profound meaning, a clash of souls.
It felt like an eternity, yet also but a fleeting moment.
Ying Bing opened her eyes. Reflected in her gaze were the sword-carved mystical stones, her serene pupils now tinged with an even deeper air of mystery.
The "Divine Firmament Heavenly Heart Sword" she now wielded was still a divine technique, yet it could no longer bear its former name.
And then—
The void trembled. The sword-carved mystical stones, even after being comprehended, continued to resonate without cease!
Such a phenomenon had never occurred before!
The elders froze for a moment before swiftly stepping forward, fearing some sudden anomaly.
Yet what was meant to happen, happened regardless.
Under their horrified gazes—
The sword mark that had remained eternally engraved upon the mystical stone began to fade at an alarming speed.
As if...
It was being erased by some higher existence.
Like ink dissipating from a painting, returning the canvas to blank purity.
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
. As long as he maintains the villain image and follows the plot to the grand finale, he can obtain generous rewards and return to the real world. So Gu Chen'an entered the role and began to act as a scumbag villain, but who would have expected that the female leads could hear his inner thoughts. Miss Su from the Su family was shocked: "I originally thought Gu Chen'an was a scumbag, but I didn't expect he turned out to be a gentleman! What? You said I have to call off the engagement? I definitely won't, I'll piss you off!" Bai Yuan Tian was dumbfounded: "Young Master Gu is usually unreasonable and a complete brat, but he actually calls me little sweetie in his heart? What, Young Master Gu even said he likes me?" As the female leads' images collapsed more and more, the plot also collapsed with it. Gu Chen'an looked at all this chaos. "Ladies, don't aggro me, if you keep this up the male lead really will stab me, I still need to survive to the grand finale!"
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
