She Once Was Called Ye Jiuzhou

Inside the Cave of Forgotten Dust, the passage of time went unnoticed.

Deep within the cave, myriad-year unmelting black ice hung upside down like swords, every icicle condensing the chill of the ages.

Occasionally, a drop of frigid pool water would slide from the tip of an icicle, tracing a transparent arc in the dead-silent air, before finally dropping into the deep pool with a crisp ding, stirring up ripples.

In the center of the cave, mountains of top-grade spirit stones emitted a soft halo, illuminating the entire space to look like a dream.

The majestic spiritual energy contained within these stones was enough to drive any cultivator mad, but at this moment, they merely lay there quietly, like cold tombstones, witnessing a woman's painstaking cultivation day in and day out for over ten years.

Bai Qianqiu sat cross-legged at the very top of the pile of spirit stones, her figure appearing exceptionally lonely under the illumination of the spiritual light.

Her face was as pale as paper, fine beads of sweat seeping from her forehead—the traces left by long-term, high-intensity cultivation.

Her breathing was very light, so light it was almost inaudible, yet every inhalation and exhalation tugged at the surrounding spiritual energy, forming tiny vortices.

It had been over a decade.

For a full ten years and more, she had not taken a single step out of this cave.

Under her master's nearly force-fed infusion of resources and devilish guidance, her cultivation base had been forcefully elevated from the early Nascent Soul stage to the late Nascent Soul stage.

If word of this speed were to spread, it would be enough to shock the world and drive cultivators everywhere insane. But Bai Qianqiu felt it was too slow, far too slow.

She was still a hundred and eight thousand miles away from the Mahayana stage.

And she was even further out of reach from that person.

Her fingers gently stroked the longsword resting on her knees. The sword, named Wenqing, had a blade as cold and clear as autumn waters, and its hilt was wrapped in dark red silk ribbons, resembling congealed streaks of blood.

Whenever she touched this sword, scenes from the secret realm would surface in her mind: that man in white as pure as snow, those aloof yet gentle eyes, and that phrase that made her heart flutter.

Your heart is in turmoil.

A cold and clear voice suddenly rang out, breaking the dead silence of the cave.

An avatar of Ye Jiuhuang sat cross-legged at the cave entrance like a jade sculpture.

She had her back to Bai Qianqiu, her posture as straight as a sword, her white robes spotless. Her long hair cascaded down like a waterfall, shimmering with a faint silver light in the halo of the spirit stones.

Bai Qianqiu opened her eyes; those originally clear pupils were now bloodshot.

Master...

Her voice was very light, so light it seemed afraid of disturbing something.

She looked at the Wenqing sword in her hand, a trace of confusion, a trace of pain, and a trace of longing she herself was unwilling to admit flashing through her eyes.

Your disciple cannot calm down.

When these words left her mouth, she felt as if her heart was tightly gripped by an invisible hand.

Every time I enter meditation, the scenes from the secret realm always surface in my mind.

Bai Qianqiu's voice began to tremble. She bit her lip, trying hard not to cry.

But her tears welled up disappointingly, sliding down her pale cheeks and dripping onto the Wenqing sword with a faint tick-tock sound.

I want to know... what kind of person is my husband, really?

She had already asked herself this question countless times in her heart.

Every time she went into secluded cultivation, every time she meditated, the figure of that man in white would appear in her sea of consciousness. His smile, his gaze, his every movement were like brands deeply imprinted on her soul, impossible to erase, nor did she want to erase them.

Ye Jiuhuang's back stiffened slightly.

After a long time, she sighed softly.

You want to hear a story?

Ye Jiuhuang's voice remained cold and clear, but Bai Qianqiu keenly sensed that a trace of something she had never heard before had entered her master's voice.

I do.

Bai Qianqiu answered almost immediately, her eyes lighting up as if she had seen a ray of light in the darkness. She shifted her body forward, like a child eager to hear a bedtime story, her eyes full of anticipation.

I want to hear... how did you and him... first meet, Master?

Ye Jiuhuang slowly turned around.

At the moment she turned around, Bai Qianqiu held her breath.

Even though she had followed her master for countless years, even though she had seen her master countless times, every time she saw her master's face, she would still be shocked by a beauty that transcended gender, transcended life and death.

It was a face so perfect it was suffocating.

Her skin was like snow, her features so exquisite they seemed carved by the most outstanding artisan in heaven and earth using their life's blood. But the most unforgettable feature was those eyes: those eyes were beautiful, so beautiful they resembled a lake of melted myriad-year ice, yet they were also very empty, so empty it seemed they had lost everything.

In this gloomy cave, Ye Jiuhuang's gaze became unusually ethereal. The corners of her mouth curved up slightly, forming a bitter arc; in her smile was nostalgia, pain, remorse, and a helplessness that seeped deep into the bones.

That is a very long story.

Back then, I was not called Ye Jiuhuang.

She paused, a trace of complex emotion flashing through her eyes—nostalgia for the past, doubt about her choices, and defiance against fate.

I was called Ye Jiuzhou.

Time flowed back to ten thousand years ago.

That was a resplendent golden age where all saints rose together and almighty experts were everywhere.

The spiritual energy of heaven and earth was so dense it almost solidified into substance. Any random mountaintop could hide ancient ruins, and any random river could nurture peerless spiritual herbs. It was the most glorious era of the cultivation world, and also the most cruel.

Central Continent, Sword God Palace.

This immortal palace standing tall in the clouds of the highest heavens was the most prestigious holy land for sword cultivators in the entire cultivation world.

In front of the palace gates, nine towering peaks thrust straight into the clouds like nine sharp swords, each mountain radiating a fierce sword intent that filled countless cultivators with awe.

On this day, anomalies descended from the heavens.

Just as the first ray of morning sunlight spilled across the earth, the entire Sword God Mountain Range was suddenly enveloped by a blazing firelight.

Nine gigantic phantoms of fire phoenixes emerged from the void, each a thousand zhang large, blotting out the sky and covering the sun when they spread their wings.

They circled in the air, letting out sonorous phoenix cries that echoed through the highest heavens, shaking the clouds until they trembled.

Even more shockingly, as the phoenix cries rang out, the tens of thousands of flying swords in the entire Sword God Palace flew out of their sheaths uncontrollably, all bowing in unison toward the direction of the main peak.

She's given birth! She's given birth!

Outside the delivery room, an old servant was so excited his voice changed pitch. He rushed out the door and shouted to the crowd waiting outside:

Palace Master! Madam has given birth to a daughter! She naturally triggered the myriad swords' homage—she is a peerless sword embryo!

The master of the Sword God Palace at the time, Ye Qingtian, froze completely upon hearing this.

In the next second, an expression of wild ecstasy erupted on his face.

He shoved the old servant aside and charged into the delivery room with large strides, even losing a shoe in his haste.

Inside the delivery room, sandalwood incense curled upward, and spiritual energy swirled densely.

The woman lying on the bed had a pale face, but her eyes were full of tenderness.

She held a swaddle in her arms; the infant inside was carved from pink jade, her skin as white as the finest mutton-fat jade, and her large eyes as clear as the stars in the sky.

Qingtian... the woman smiled weakly. Look, how beautiful our daughter is...

Ye Qingtian rushed to the bedside and carefully took the swaddled baby. The moment he saw his daughter, his eyes instantly welled up with tears. This master of the Sword God Palace, an all-powerful figure in the cultivation world who had slain countless foes, now looked like an ordinary father, his eyes filled with tender affection.

"Good, good, good..."

He said the word "good" three times in a row, his fingers trembling.

He couldn't wait to release his divine sense to examine his daughter's constitution.

However, when his divine sense swept through the delicate, jade-like infant's body, the ecstatic joy on his face instantly froze, as if a basin of ice water had been poured over him, chilling him from head to toe.

His hands began to tremble, not out of excitement, but in disbelief and unacceptability.

His complexion turned from ruddy to pale, from pale to ashen, and finally morphed into endless regret and disappointment.

"How could this be..."

Ye Qingtian's voice was hoarse. As he held the infant, his fingers trembled so much that the shaking transferred to the swaddle, causing the baby to let out a soft cry.

But he had no time to care about that right now; his eyes held only shock and despair.

"The Heavenly Phoenix Sword Bone..."

He muttered to himself, his voice brimming with indignation:

"This is the legendary supreme sword bone, of utmost firmness and ultimate Yang, capable of reaching the very pinnacle of the Sword Dao!"

"But why..."

He suddenly looked up at the sky, his eyes full of questioning:

"Why must you be a girl?"

The woman on the bed grew even paler. She reached out her hand, wanting to say something, but ultimately let it drop weakly.

In the cultivation world, there was a cruel truth: the compatibility between one's constitution and fate determined a cultivator's upper limit.

Women were inherently Yin; their meridians were Yin, their vital blood was Yin, and even their souls carried a soft, Yin energy.

Yet the Heavenly Phoenix Sword Bone was the purest, most ultimate Yang entity in the world.

It contained a sword intent as blazing as the true fire of the sun, a domineering power meant to incinerate and sever everything.

Yin and Yang clashed like water and fire.

If this child forced herself to cultivate, not only would she fail to unleash even a tenth of the sword bone's power, but every night of the full moon, the Yin and Yang energies within her body would violently collide.

That kind of agony would be like countless red-hot swords piercing through her meridians, churning in her bone marrow, and slicing into her soul.

This pain would accompany her for her entire life.

Moreover, bearing the Heavenly Phoenix Sword Bone in a female body meant her lifespan would not exceed a hundred years.

"The Heavenly Dao is unfair! The Heavenly Dao is unfair!"

Ye Qingtian sighed toward the heavens, his voice filled with unwillingness and rage.

He placed the infant, who should have been a peerless prodigy, back into the cradle. His movements were gentle, but his eyes were cold. He turned and walked away, his back looking desolate and resolute, not even glancing back once.

"If she were a boy, my Sword God Palace would prosper for ten thousand years!"

"What a pity, what a pity..."

This sigh echoed in the delivery room, lingering for a long time.

The woman on the bed finally couldn't hold back anymore, and tears streamed from her eyes.

She looked at her daughter in the cradle, that delicate, oblivious infant, her heart twisting in agony.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

She reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked her daughter's cheek. Her tears fell onto the swaddle, blossoming into damp patches.

"It's all Mother's fault... It's all Mother's fault..."

This sigh became the heaviest curse of Ye Jiuhuang's childhood.

From that day on, the Sword God Palace gained a mistake.

She was the Ninth Young Miss of the Ye family, Ye Jiuhuang.

She knew from a young age that she shouldn't exist. No one explicitly told her this; rather, she pieced it together bit by bit from the gazes of those around her, from her father's coldness, and from her older brothers' mockery.

When she was three years old, she picked up a wooden sword for the first time.

The moment her small hand grasped the hilt, all the swords in the martial arts arena trembled and hummed.

The precious swords resting on the racks, the divine weapons hanging on the walls, and even the swords at the elders' waists let out buzzing resonances, bowing in submission to her.

"A genius! This is a genius!"

The elder in charge of instruction was so excited that his beard trembled. He looked at this delicate little girl, his eyes brimming with pleasant surprise.

But this surprise quickly turned into pity.

Because when Ye Jiuhuang tried to circulate her spiritual energy and channel her sword qi, the Heavenly Phoenix Sword Bone within her clashed violently with her Yin meridians.

This agony caused the mere three-year-old girl to faint on the spot. Her small body convulsed on the ground, bleeding from her seven orifices, a sight that terrified everyone present.

"Stop! We can't let her practice anymore!"

The elder rushed forward, using his spiritual energy to forcefully suppress the rampaging sword qi within her body.

When he examined Ye Jiuhuang's meridians, his expression turned incredibly grim.

The child's meridians had already developed tiny fractures. If she continued, her meridians would likely shatter completely, reducing her to a cripple.

"What a pity... what a pity..."

The elder sighed, his eyes full of sympathy as he looked at Ye Jiuhuang.

From then on, Ye Jiuhuang became the most peculiar existence in the Sword God Palace.

She possessed a terrifying comprehension ability that surpassed any of her brothers.

At the age of five, she only needed to glance at a clan elder demonstrating the Nine Heavens Sword Art to point out three flaws in it.

At seven, she could see through the sword trajectories of a Nascent Soul stage elder and even anticipate their next move in advance.

But she could not practice the sword.

Whenever she held a sword, the extreme Yang sword qi within her body would clash with her extreme Yin meridians. That pain was like countless red-hot knives churning within her flesh and blood.

She would be in so much pain that her whole body would convulse, she would pass out from the agony, and she would hurt so badly that she wished for immediate death.

"Ninth Sister, give up."

Her third brother, a Golden Core stage genius, stood by the edge of the martial arts arena, looking down at her. In his eyes, there was pity, mockery, and a sense of superiority.

"As a girl, isn't it better to support your husband and raise children?"

"With your body, practicing the sword is courting death."

"You might as well marry early and save the family from losing face."

The surrounding clan members nodded in agreement. Their gazes toward Ye Jiuhuang held sympathy and regret, but mostly a matter-of-fact coldness.

In their eyes, a descendant of a sword cultivation family who couldn't practice the sword was simply trash, a burden.

Ye Jiuhuang knelt on the ground, her small body trembling. Her hands gripped the wooden sword tightly, her nails digging into her palms. Blood dripped down the hilt, blooming into crimson flowers on the ground.

She lifted her head. On that tender yet breathtakingly beautiful little face, there were no tears, only a heart-palpitating stubbornness.

"Who says women are inferior to men?"

Her voice was soft, but every word sounded as if squeezed through her clenched teeth.

"Who says Yin and Yang cannot be reversed?"

She stood up, covered in blood, but her gaze was firmer than ever before.

"I, Ye Jiuhuang, insist on cultivating this supreme Sword Dao!"

"I insist on standing above the Nine Heavens!"

"I will show everyone that a woman can also become the strongest sword cultivator!"

At this moment, the entire martial arts arena fell silent.

Everyone was shocked by the madness in the eyes of this seven-year-old girl. That madness was not anger or resentment, but an almost paranoid determination—even if it meant being smashed to pieces, even if it meant eternal damnation, she would prove herself.

But soon, the mocking laughter echoed once more.

"Hahaha, Ninth Sister, have you gone mad?"

"You? A piece of trash who can't even hold a sword steady?"

"Keep dreaming!"

Ye Jiuhuang ignored their ridicule. She turned and walked away, her back cutting a lonely yet resolute figure.

That day, she made a vicious oath in her heart:

One day, she would make everyone who mocked her kneel before her in repentance.

One day, she would stand above the Nine Heavens, looking down upon all living beings.

Even if she had to pay any price.

The year she turned ten.

Ye Jiuhuang made a decision that would change her destiny forever.

In the forbidden grounds of her family's ancient archives, she found a fragmented map and ventured alone into the Netherworld Sea of Death.

Barely surviving the ordeal, she finally found a Heaven-defying Yin-Yang Fortune Pill beside the remains of an ancient immortal.

This pill could reverse Yin and Yang and reconstruct the physical body. By swallowing this pill, she would completely discard her female body and transform into a male. From then on, Yin and Yang would merge, and her Sword Bone would achieve great perfection.

Without a shred of hesitation, on a night filled with thunderstorms, ten-year-old Ye Jiuhuang swallowed the divine pill in one gulp.

"Ah!"

Heart-wrenching screams echoed through the cave for three whole days and nights.

It was the ultimate torture of flesh reconstructing and bones remolding.

When the dawn of the fourth day shone into the cave.

The Ye Jiuhuang on the ground was gone. In her place stood a youth in white, with a face as flawless as jade and eyes as bright as stars beneath sword-like eyebrows.

He slowly stood up and clenched his fists.

A terrifyingly pure Yang sword intent soared into the sky, directly cleaving the mountain peak above into two!

Yin and Yang united, the Heavenly Phoenix awakened!

The youth looked at the heroic and striking face reflected in the water, a wildly arrogant smile curving his lips.

He had severed his past. He had severed his weak female body.

"From this day forward, there is no longer a Ye Jiuhuang in this world."

"My name is Ye Jiuzhou."

"In the vastness of the Nine Provinces, I alone reign supreme!"