The usually desolate Miaomang Mountain was now teeming with life. With the commencement of the Three Realms Trial Tournament, disciples clad in flowing white robes could be seen everywhere, traveling in groups.

At the mountain’s base, villagers from the surrounding areas had set up stalls, selling common mortal goods. Though the items were ordinary, they were novelties to the disciples who rarely left their sects. Each stall was packed with eager buyers, and the villagers, accustomed to such events, had no trouble quoting outrageous prices—even a cheap little trinket could be boldly priced at five taels of gold.

But the liveliness was confined to the base of the mountain. The higher one climbed, the denser the spiritual mist became, and the fewer people could be seen. Above the mist, a grand floating palace loomed silently, standing at an absolute height overlooking all below.

This palace was called Dengtian Pavilion. It served as a resting place for the Heavenly Emperor and the sect leaders during the tournament. Ordinary disciples dared not even glance at it, let alone approach it uninvited.

Inside the usually festive palace, a chilling stillness pervaded.

Di Jiang lounged lazily on a soft couch—one that was originally meant for the Heavenly Emperor. His previously well-arranged clothing was once again loosened, and his boots had disappeared somewhere. His bare feet rested carelessly on the floor, a smudge of blood staining his toes. Against his pale skin, the crimson stood out in stark contrast.

Lowering his eyes, he idly picked up a wine cup. Seeing that the wine had been tainted red with blood, he frowned in distaste, set it aside, and casually wiped his fingers against the couch before finally casting an indifferent gaze at the assembled individuals in the hall—men who dared not show their anger.

“I rarely come to join the fun. Is this how you welcome me? With those funeral faces?” His tone was light, carrying no real irritation.

A woman knelt on the ground, cradling a headless corpse in her arms. She glared at him with seething hatred but quickly looked away when his gaze swept over her, her body trembling with fear.

“Your Lordship’s presence at the trial tournament is, of course, a cause for celebration,” the Heavenly Emperor of the Immortal Realm  finally broke the suffocating silence, stroking his graying beard.

With that, the others quickly followed suit.

“Welcome, Your Lordship, to the trial tournament.”

“Your presence is an honor to the tournament.”

One after another, voices rang out as if the corpses littering the ground were mere stones instead of their fallen comrades.

Di Jiang observed them with amusement until they fell silent, likely realizing the farcical nature of their words. The hall was once again shrouded in oppressive quiet.

At last, the Heavenly Emperor of the Immortal Realm spoke again, the weight of the situation forcing his words to be careful. “Your Lordship has always preferred solitude. What brings you to the trial tournament this time?”

“Am I not allowed to come?” Di Jiang lifted his gaze.

The Heavenly Emperor forced a smile. “Of course, you are. With Your Lordship here, the Three Realms Trial Tournament has truly earned its name.”

Di Jiang’s lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in his eyes.

Inside the pavilion, the atmosphere was inexplicably tense. Only Di Jiang remained indifferent as he picked a fresh wine cup from the desk and poured himself another drink. The people in the hall exchanged silent glances, but no one dared to speak up. In the end, they could only pin their hopes on the Heavenly Emperor of the Immortal Realm.

The Emperor cleared his throat and unconsciously stroked his white beard. “I was in seclusion for three hundred years, and the moment I emerged, I heard about the Soul-Destroying Formation. Those reckless sects tried to use it to shake the peace of the Three Realms. Truly, they had no regard for their lives. I was furious when I heard about it and resolved to seek justice for Your Lordship.”

Di Jiang gave him a baffled look. “All those who harmed me are already dead. What justice are you seeking on my behalf?”

“…Right, they are all dead,” the Emperor of the Immortal Realm let out an awkward chuckle. “As the saying goes, when a person dies, their debts are cleared. What do you think, Your Lordship? The Trial Tournament is about to begin, and if you are willing to participate in the event, we would be deeply grateful.”

Di Jiang took a sip of his drink, found it unsatisfactory, and casually tossed the cup aside.

The cup clattered to the ground, and the sound made everyone present shudder. The tension in the room grew heavier.

“I’m merely here to watch the excitement.” His words carried the unspoken assurance that he would not go on a killing spree during the tournament.

The Demon Realm’s ruler was known for being domineering, bloodthirsty, and unpredictable, but he had always been a man of his word. Upon hearing his guarantee, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, and the tension in the hall eased significantly.

“Your Lordship is truly magnanimous. A model for us all.”

“Thank you for not holding the Soul-Destroying Formation incident against us. Once the tournament concludes, we will certainly present you with generous gifts.”

“Since Your Lordship is here for the tournament, may I ask if any disciples from the Demon Realm will be participating?”

Even though they had already flattered him once and knew how awkward this situation was, they couldn’t resist trying to say something favorable. As Di Jiang watched their insincere, fawning expressions, his thoughts suddenly drifted to Le Gui.

He wondered if she had managed to register yet. They had been apart for two days now. Even if she had to crawl, she should have reached the registration area by now. She would likely come looking for him today.

—

At that very moment, Le Gui was lying flat on a surfboard-like contraption, floating about a meter off the ground. She swayed unsteadily as Li Xingqiao led her forward with a rope.

“How much longer until we arrive?” she asked, utterly drained of hope.

Li Xingqiao wiped the sweat off his face and answered with patience, “At our current pace, about seven or eight more days.”

Le Gui, who only had three hours left before the registration deadline: “…”

Let this world be destroyed!

Two days earlier.

“…Fellow Daoist, why are you looking at me like that?”

Li Xingqiao had been under her gaze for quite some time. A faint blush crept up his face, making the mole on his brow even more distinct.

Le Gui cleared her throat. “N-nothing.”

She suddenly remembered that, in this timeline, the male lead was only sixteen. He had joined the Jinyue Sect just two years ago and was probably still at the Qi Refining stage.

That meant he was still a hundred thousand miles away from having the power to forge Wuliangdu with his bare hands.

Li Xingqiao noticed the way her expression shifted from excitement to disappointment and couldn’t help but ask, “Fellow Daoist, you seemed to be muttering to yourself earlier. Did you encounter some trouble?”

“Not really…” Just planning my escape route.

Before she could finish her sentence, an idea struck her.

Right! The male lead was still at the Qi Refining stage. He might not be able to make Wuliangdu yet, but he could take her to Cangmang Mountain!

[Yes! No more running away. Time to go to Cangmang Mountain, hand in my jade token, sign up for the tournament, wait for Di Jiang to rig the competition so I win first place, return to the Demon Realm as queen, inherit Wuliangdu, and get back to the real world. Perfect plan!]

Le Gui’s eyes suddenly lit up as she looked at Li Xingqiao again.

“…Fellow Daoist, are you sure you’re not in some kind of trouble?” Li Xingqiao instinctively took a step back.

Le Gui blinked and suddenly asked, “I’m a mortal with no cultivation. How did you know I was a fellow cultivator and not just an ordinary person?”

“You disguise yourself as a mortal very well, but your robes are of high-grade quality, something an ordinary person would never own.”

Sixteen-year-old Li Xingqiao was handsome and striking, with a single red mole on his brow that gave him an air of both righteousness and mischief. Yet, despite his sharp features, he had an honest demeanor. Whatever Le Gui asked, he answered without hesitation.

Le Gui looked down at her own robes. She had been digging holes and drawing in the dirt earlier, yet there wasn’t a speck of dust on them.

“Someone who wears such fine robes must have significant cultivation. Should I be addressing you as ‘Senior’ instead?” Li Xingqiao asked, looking at her with newfound respect.

Le Gui: “I’m really just a mortal.”

Li Xingqiao: “?”

“I’m serious.” She put on the most sincere expression she could muster. “As mortal as it gets.”

“Then your robes…” Li Xingqiao hesitated.

[Wuyou Palace’s work uniform.]

Le Gui wanted to tell the truth, but considering the Immortal and Mortal Realms’ not-so-friendly attitude toward the Demon Realm, she cleared her throat and vaguely replied, “Issued by my sect.”

“Your sect must be incredibly wealthy!” Li Xingqiao said with admiration.

Le Gui: “…”

Seeing that he was about to ask which sect she belonged to, she quickly changed the topic. “I’m heading to Cangmang Mountain to… meet up with my sect. Can you give me a ride?”

“Of course.” Li Xingqiao agreed immediately. He formed a hand seal and pointed to the ground, where a surfboard-like object materialized. He stepped onto it first. “Fellow Daoist, please.”

Le Gui followed him onto the board. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s just a small favor. No need to thank me,” Li Xingqiao said, then suddenly remembered something. “Oh, by the way, Cangmang Mountain has been renamed to Miaomang Mountain. Be careful not to call it by its old name when you get there.”

“It was renamed?” Le Gui glanced at him curiously. “Why?”

That place was called Cangmang Mountain in the original novel.

“It’s all because of that demon, Di Jiang.” Li Xingqiao frowned as he mentioned the name. “His palace on Diyun Peak is called Cangqiong Palace, and he is so domineering that he refuses to let any other place share the same first character as his palace. So Cangmang Mountain had no choice but to change its name to Miaomang Mountain.”

“…But ‘Cangmang’ and ‘Cangqiong’ are two completely different words. They just happen to share one character.”

Miaomang Mountain—it carried an air of hopelessness, an ominous name.

Li Xingqiao sighed. “That’s exactly why he’s called a demon lord. Demons are always domineering and unreasonable.”

[No wonder the mountain was still called Cangmang in the original story. So after Di Jiang died, they changed it back…]

“Very unreasonable indeed,” Le Gui agreed wholeheartedly, secretly relieved she hadn’t mentioned her connection to Di Jiang. “Let’s stop talking about him and get moving.”

Li Xingqiao nodded seriously and began forming hand seals. Le Gui felt the “surfboard” beneath her feet shift and quickly braced herself for departure.

But nothing happened.

Le Gui looked down at the board that was itching to move but remained stuck, then turned to the handsome young man whose face was now flushed red from exertion. After three seconds of silence, she asked, “Is this thing supposed to be ground-level flight?”

“…Please be patient, Fellow Daoist. This flying artifact usually carries two people without issue. I don’t know why it suddenly won’t move today.” Li Xingqiao was just as confused.

The mirror, which had been silent all this time, spoke up in a ghostly voice. “Because there are three people on it, you fool.”

Le Gui startled and instinctively glanced at Li Xingqiao, but he didn’t seem to hear anything. He was still focused on troubleshooting the artifact.

“What are you looking at? He can’t hear me,” the mirror said impatiently. “Stop wasting time with him. This broken artifact can’t carry three people.”

“You count as a person?” Le Gui was still stuck on its earlier remark.

Li Xingqiao looked up, puzzled. “Are you… insulting me?”

“Of course not,” Le Gui said innocently. “You must’ve misheard. I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t?” Li Xingqiao was confused. “But I swear I heard something…”

“You must be imagining things. Really, I didn’t say a word.” Le Gui flashed him a harmless smile.

Li Xingqiao seemed convinced and continued tinkering with his artifact.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Le Gui hopped off and whispered to the mirror, “You’re just a broken mirror, barely three ounces in weight. How could this thing not carry you?”

“Do you even have common sense? You think I only weigh three ounces because that’s what I allow you to perceive. My true weight is far greater than yours.” The mirror sneered. “This is a low-grade flying artifact, and it’s already falling apart. Of course, it can’t handle three people’s weight.”

“So… if I just leave you here, I can still make it in time to register?” Le Gui mused.

The mirror: “…”

She pulled the mirror from her robes and prepared to toss it aside.

The mirror spoke again. “Do you think His Lordship had me follow you for no reason?”

Le Gui froze.

“You think I only answer questions?” the mirror continued.

Le Gui hesitated.

“I won’t say more than necessary. If you want to throw me away, go ahead.”

Le Gui quietly tucked the mirror back into her robes. “I was joking. We’re best friends, battle companions who can trust each other with our lives. How could I ever abandon you so easily?”

The mirror: “Heh.”

Li Xingqiao was still busy fixing his artifact when he suddenly brightened. “I think it’s working now! Fellow Daoist, let’s set off.”

Le Gui: “…”

Though skeptical, she didn’t want to crush the boy’s confidence. After some thought, she decisively stepped back onto the board.

Ten seconds later, she crashed to the ground along with the barely airborne “surfboard” and twisted her ankle.