Chapter 1

After a heavy rain, a mysterious layer of white mist shrouded the mountain stream, creating an ethereal atmosphere. Clusters of winter jasmine branches stretched out from the stream’s edge, droplets of dew gliding gently down their brown branches.

The rhythmic sound of a wooden mallet striking against clothing filled the air, accompanied by occasional laughter from the women at the stream. They sat in small groups on the rocks, their voices a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Have you heard? The Ghost Sect has announced to the Six Realms that they’re recruiting male and female cultivators to serve the Ghost King,” a deliberately lowered voice whispered.

Though the term “serve” was used, everyone washing clothes by the stream understood the real meaning—the Ghost Sect was selecting furnaces for the Ghost King.

The Ghost King was not the ruler of the Netherworld, but he was far more terrifying than any underworld king. His very name was spoken only in hushed tones.

But this did not affect their enthusiasm. These women were the lowest-ranking outer disciples of Mount Penglai, without talent for cultivation or resources to enhance their abilities. Becoming an inner disciple was as difficult as ascending to the heavens.

Instead of languishing on Mount Penglai, they’d rather take their chances serving the Ghost King as a furnace.

The Ghost Sect promised that those chosen would serve the Ghost King for three months, after which they could select any magical artifact from the sect’s treasures and receive an additional reward of 100,000 premium spirit stones.

A hundred thousand premium spirit stones—what did that mean?

The entire annual expenditure of Mount Penglai was only 1,000 premium spirit stones. With 100,000 spirit stones, sects would compete to recruit them as inner disciples.

As they chatted animatedly, Yu Zhengzheng, sitting near the winter jasmine, remained silent. Focused on pounding a set of white robes with her mallet, she appeared indifferent to the gossip.

A soft and ethereal voice broke the peace of the mountain stream. “What a coincidence, Sister, you’re here too?”

The chatter ceased. All eyes turned to Yu Zhengzheng and the woman behind her.

Yu Zhengzheng didn’t look back or pause her work, her mallet continuing its steady rhythm as though she hadn’t heard the voice.

The smile on the newcomer’s face stiffened, her expression turning forced. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me, Sister. But in cultivation, one’s foundation is paramount. You have a wood spiritual root, but without a source of spiritual energy, even consuming countless pills won’t help.”

This time, Yu Zhengzheng paused. Slowly, she turned to look at the woman. “So?”

The woman wore an ethereal white dress, her delicate, porcelain-like skin glowing against the misty backdrop. She resembled a pristine, otherworldly flower blooming in the water, a stark contrast to Yu Zhengzheng’s coarse gray clothing.

Despite their different attire, their stunningly beautiful faces bore a few similarities. However, Yu Zhengzheng’s thinner frame and plain clothing made her appear less striking.

Both were daughters of Mount Penglai’s sect leader, but they were not born of the same mother.

Yu Zhengzheng’s biological mother was once the sect leader’s legitimate wife. However, the sect leader achieved a breakthrough into the Nascent Soul stage through the ruthless act of sacrificing his wife, paving the way for Yu Jiangjiang’s mother to take her place.

Born just a month apart, the two sisters had vastly different upbringings. Orphaned at a young age, Yu Zhengzheng was raised under the care of her stepmother. Although they were outwardly equal as daughters of the sect leader, the disparity in treatment was stark.

Yu Jiangjiang grew up pampered, cherished like a pearl, while Yu Zhengzheng endured disdain, frequent beatings, and scoldings. Over time, this treatment shaped her into a silent and reserved person.

Though rumors of their animosity were widespread, witnessing it firsthand was far more entertaining. The women by the stream eagerly awaited a dramatic confrontation, mentally preparing for a fierce exchange of words.

Yu Jiangjiang didn’t seem angered. She maintained a gentle smile. “Sister, you must have heard about the Ghost Sect’s recruitment of… attendants. I recommended you to Father.”

The deliberate pause in her words made Yu Zhengzheng curse inwardly.

Recommended? So even becoming a furnace now requires connections?

Before Yu Zhengzheng could respond, Yu Jiangjiang continued, “This is a rare opportunity. If you’re selected, after three months you can take any artifact from the Ghost Sect and leave.”

“Father mentioned an artifact called the Heaven and Earth Cauldron. With it, you could transform your wood spiritual root. Returning to the inner city would be within your grasp.”

The wood spiritual root was once the most powerful attribute in the cultivation world.

But a thousand years ago, the Ghost King single-handedly slaughtered the Eastern Dragon Clan, stripping tens of thousands of dragon scales. The dragon clan was nearly annihilated.

The massacre caused celestial anomalies—months of bloody rain. The rain turned soil to rot, vegetation withered, and barren lands spread across the realms. Only the human realm was spared total devastation thanks to the heavens’ protection, though it still suffered. Crops became mundane, devoid of spiritual energy.

In this generation, cultivators with wood spiritual roots were all but abandoned. Yu Zhengzheng’s status as the sect leader’s daughter made leaving impossible, forcing her to endure scorn on Mount Penglai.

Becoming a furnace for the Ghost King? If she were capable, she’d prefer to smash the Ghost King into pieces for causing her plight.

If the Heaven and Earth Cauldron truly existed, Yu Jiangjiang would never have mentioned it. Yu Zhengzheng knew her scheming sister too well.

With a single strike of her mallet, Yu Zhengzheng shattered the illusionary winter jasmine, the force of the blow startling Yu Jiangjiang so much she nearly fell into the stream.

“Who said I wanted to return to the inner city?”

Calmly, she picked up the white robes soaking in the water. Her pale fingers twisted the fabric, wringing out the water. “You’ve always been shy, Sister. If you want the Heaven and Earth Cauldron, I can speak to Father for you.”

Yu Jiangjiang froze, her face flushing red with anger.

If she weren’t utterly desperate, she would never have sought out her useless older sister. The Ghost Sect demanded a cultivation furnace, which could be male or female, with only one requirement: they must be of utmost purity and possess the yang attribute.  

She, with her fire spiritual root, embodied pure yang and perfectly fit the Ghost Sect’s criteria.  

The Ghost Sect was notoriously domineering. Though they announced to the world that they were looking for volunteers, in truth, any cultivator who met their requirements, male or female, had no way to escape.  

It was always the Ghost Sect that chose people—never the other way around.  

She had no intention of becoming a furnace for the Ghost King. Rumor had it the Ghost King had lived for tens of thousands of years; who knew if he was some decrepit old man?  

But the Ghost Sect was not to be trifled with, and no matter how much she cried and begged, her father was dead set on sending her there.  

Yu Zhengzheng, on the other hand, had a wood spiritual root, which barely qualified as yang. The two of them bore a slight resemblance. If she could trick Yu Zhengzheng into taking her place at the Ghost Sect, she might just escape this ordeal.  

If persuasion failed, she would resort to force. Her plan was to drug Yu Zhengzheng, knock her unconscious, and have her delivered.  

Her father, who doted on her, wouldn’t stand by and let her be thrown into the fire pit to serve as a furnace for some old man.  

Yu Jiangjiang’s eyes reddened as she gazed up at Yu Zhengzheng, who had stood up. “I know you love Senior Brother, and that’s why you’re unwilling to go to the Ghost Sect. But even after serving Senior Brother for seven years—cooking and doing laundry for him—he still only sees you as a servant.”  

“I was just trying to help you. Why must you be so ungrateful?”  

Yu Jiangjiang’s voice grew increasingly aggrieved, as though she was on the verge of tears. Yu Zhengzheng paused mid-step, her grip tightening around the wooden club in her hand.  

She couldn’t help but start calculating: what were her chances of sneaking into the inner city at night and bashing this idiot Yu Jiangjiang to death with the club?  

As she pondered, she realized that her love for Senior Brother and her refusal to become a furnace for the Ghost King had no logical connection.  

Senior Brother was the epitome of grace and refinement, like an otherworldly immortal. While he was difficult to pursue, the mere thought of the inner city’s unkempt, unattractive senior and junior brothers reminded her that she could persevere.  

Yu Jiangjiang had a narrow perspective, only seeing her cooking and laundering for Senior Brother. What she failed to notice was that Senior Brother had long since reached the stage of fasting, yet every meal she delivered returned as empty plates and bowls.  

Inner city disciples never did laundry themselves; they merely used a cleansing technique. Senior Brother could do the same, yet he entrusted his personal garments to her.  

For the record, Yu Jiangjiang also had feelings for Senior Brother, but she clung to her persona of elegance and virtue, unwilling to shed her dignity to pursue him.  

Yu Zhengzheng, however, thought differently. Dignity was meaningless—winning Senior Brother’s heart was the real achievement.  

Casually, Yu Zhengzheng asked, “Do you know why Laozi wrote the *Dao De Jing*?”  

Yu Jiangjiang blinked in confusion. “I don’t know.”  

Yu Zhengzheng smiled faintly. “Because he wanted to.”  

Yu Jiangjiang: “…”  

She was left speechless, her face alternating between red and green in a fit of silent fury—a sight to behold. 

It was rare to see the pampered Yu Jiangjiang lose face. The female cultivators held back their laughter, their faces turning red from the effort, but the undisguised mockery in their eyes still made Yu Jiangjiang’s face burn with embarrassment.

Just as the atmosphere became awkward, someone passing by the mountain stream suddenly shouted, “Senior Brother is in trouble!”

Yu Zhengzheng froze for a moment. Following the direction of the voice, she saw many inner-sect disciples in white robes rushing out of the inner city toward the western cliff mountain.

She formed a hand seal, placing Senior Brother’s white robe into her storage bracelet. Without bothering to argue further with Yu Jiangjiang, she hurried toward the cliff mountain.

Yu Jiangjiang summoned her Qingyan Sword, stepping onto its blade and flying off. In just a blink, she caught up with Yu Zhengzheng.

Though it was warm spring, the wind at the cliff mountain was bitterly cold. Yu Zhengzheng pushed through the crowd, forcing her way to the front of the onlookers.

At the edge of the cliff stood two figures, one in black and one in white. Between them was a girl in an apricot-colored long dress, creating a stark contrast as if dividing yin and yang. The scene was strikingly jarring.

The man in black had snow-white skin and squinted slightly with a faint smile. On his collar was embroidered a golden Udumbara flower, a symbol of the Ghost Sect.

In his hand, he held a chilling longsword, its blade faintly pointed at the throat of the young man in white. “I’m here under orders to execute the top disciple of Mount Penglai. My apologies.”

The girl in the apricot dress bowed slightly and echoed, “Apologies.”

This was the Ghost Sect’s way of killing—polite first, ruthless later—brazen to the extreme.

The young man in white didn’t take them seriously. He leaned lazily against an ancient tree at the cliff’s edge, his thin fingers idly playing with two walnuts, his demeanor casual and indifferent.

Yu Zhengzheng felt like kneeling on the spot. At a time like this, Senior Brother still had the leisure to fiddle with walnuts?!

The Ghost Sect left no soul alive under its sword. What could Senior Brother have done to provoke them to chase him all the way to Mount Penglai?

No one dared to step forward or intervene. Those who usually fawned over Senior Brother now shrank back like quails, afraid of being implicated.

Even Yu Jiangjiang stood at the very back, anxiously speaking into her communication bracelet, seemingly calling for reinforcements.

But it was too late. The man in black struck with lightning speed, his sword radiating a chilling aura. With a slight twist of his wrist, the sword’s momentum multiplied a hundredfold, aiming straight for the young man’s soul core.

This strike, even if it didn’t kill him, would cripple his spiritual roots, turning a four-spiritual-root cultivation genius into a cripple.

Yu Zhengzheng’s pupils constricted. In just 0.01 seconds, she calculated the consequences of blocking the strike and found her feet moving uncontrollably forward.

The wind roared past her ears, her loose hair swirling in disarray. Amid the chaos, there seemed to be screams, and the sound of the blade piercing flesh echoed in her ears, magnified to an unbearable degree.

She could clearly hear the strong, powerful beating of her own heart, the vibration causing her eardrums to ache.

Blood gushed from beneath her collarbone. Even as she pressed her hand against the wound, the blood quickly soaked her coarse gray clothes.

The fierce sword energy made her instinctively retreat. Her peripheral vision caught sight of the abyss behind her, a trace of panic flashing in her eyes.

Mount Penglai was surrounded by the sea. The abyss below was filled with seawater. Falling wouldn’t kill her, but in her current injured state, if she lost consciousness in the water, she wouldn’t die from the fall but would drown.

Unable to stop herself, inertia sent her entire body hurtling off the cliff. Gritting her teeth, she flung herself forward, her slender fingers barely grabbing onto the icy cliff rocks.

She looked up in panic at the young man in white, reaching out her hand in a desperate plea. “Senior Brother, save me…”

The young man in white leisurely lifted his gaze, his calm eyes settling on her blood-stained arm. A faint smile curled at the corner of his lips. “Your hands are covered in blood; they’ll dirty my white robes. Didn’t you say you love me? Then climb up yourself.”

Yu Zhengzheng’s pale lips trembled slightly as she stared at him in disbelief.

If she weren’t hanging on for dear life, she would have dug her ears to see if her hearing was faulty or if the man before her had lost his mind.

Dirty his white robes?

For the past seven years, she had been the one washing his white robes. Were his clothes more important than her life?

A searing pain tore through her chest from the wound. Her pain sensitivity was high, and if not for the life-threatening situation, she might have already passed out from the agony.

The pain made her heart race, and she gasped heavily. A faint flash of white light passed through her mind as if broken fragments of memory were being pieced back together.

Her eyelids felt weighted down like lead, growing heavier and heavier. Summoning the last of her strength, she struggled to shout her final words, “I love you, gra…” “Grandfather…”

Before she could finish, her body, hanging in midair, lost its grip and plummeted into the abyss.

The young man in white squinted, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

What did she just say?

I love you… forever?