Chapter 17

◎Immortal Power◎  

A month in heaven is a year on earth.  

By the time Zhong Xianqing returned to Prince Duan’s Mansion in Ji City, she had just turned twelve that spring.  

After her encounter with Zhuoying at Yanjue Mountain that day, she followed Zhuoying’s instructions and told Lin Xianqing the entire story about the immortal’s dream visitation upon returning home.  

The Lin family was both shocked and skeptical.  

However, they had indeed never mentioned the incident of giving birth in the rain temple to Xianqing. Upon closer inspection of Xianqing’s face, which bore no resemblance to the Lin family, the couple pondered and eventually believed about eighty to ninety percent of the story. They took Xianqing to Prince Duan’s Mansion to acknowledge her true lineage.  

Almost no verification was needed—Xianqing’s features, which bore an eighty percent resemblance to Prince Duan’s, were undeniable proof of their blood relation.  

The five-year-old girl looked up at this father who resembled her so closely, her eyes filled with admiration.  

He was tall, handsome, and exuded extraordinary grace—more perfect than she had ever imagined a father could be.  

But the noble Prince Duan merely frowned as he regarded his daughter.  

Her arrival did not seem like a joyous occasion but rather an enormous trouble brought upon the family.  

“Yingying has grown up in Prince Duan’s Mansion, and everyone here is deeply attached to her. If she were to learn she is not my biological daughter, she would be heartbroken. You will be registered in the family records as an illegitimate child from an outside affair. Do not reveal your true identity to Yingying or your mother. Understood?”  

Xianqing, who had stepped into Prince Duan’s Mansion with a heart full of excitement, finally began to vaguely understand the words of her Fairy Sister.  

It turned out that not all parents would love their children.  

Xianqing nodded softly in agreement.  

Life in Prince Duan’s Mansion was not as wonderful as she had imagined, but it wasn’t bad either—at least there was meat at every meal, warmth in winter, and coolness in summer.  

She also lit incense daily for the Fairy Sister at Yanjue Mountain—the Fairy Sister had said that sincerity in offering incense made it effective, even without a divine statue.  

The only downside was that the legitimate sister she had been switched with seemed to harbor deep hostility toward her.  

Zhong Yingying could not accept this sudden intrusion of a half-sister into her life.  

Her father was the powerful Prince Duan of the Great Yong Dynasty, her mother a noblewoman from a prestigious family. She was born a golden-branched, jade-leafed little princess, the daughter who should have resembled her father the most.  

Yet this half-sister had inherited all of their father’s best traits.  

Not only did she look strikingly similar to him, but she was also healthy from childhood, fond of martial arts and weaponry. Even without formal instruction, she learned remarkably fast by secretly observing the young masters of the mansion.  

By the time Zhong Yingying and Zhong Xianqing turned twelve,  

Prince Duan gifted Yingying extravagant but impersonal hairpins and jewelry, while Xianqing received a treasured sword from his own collection.  

Yingying felt an unprecedented sense of crisis.  

“…There is no need for the Goddess to weep.”  

In the dead of night, in the rear chambers of Prince Duan’s Mansion, Zhaocui and two members of the Barren Sea Celestial Clan silently appeared by Zhong Yingying’s bedside.  

Yingying, her eyes red from crying, peeked out from under her blankets.  

“W-who are you? How did you get into my room?”  

Zhaocui smiled. “Who I am is unimportant. The Goddess need only know who you are.”  

Yingying looked bewildered.  

“You are Ying Chu, the Goddess of the Mount Sumeru Immortal Realm in the Immortal Realm. You were sent to the mortal world to undergo trials as punishment for a minor transgression. But given your noble status, your uncle dispatched me to the mortal realm to assist you in overcoming these trials.”  

Yingying tentatively asked, “Trials? What trials?”  

“What troubles the Goddess?”

She pondered for a moment, then revealed everything about Zhong Xianqing. Finally, she tugged at Zhaocui’s sleeve and said:

“Are you really an Immortal sent from the heavens to help me? Then can you kill Zhong Xianqing for me, so she can never, ever take my father away from me again?”

The twelve-year-old girl looked childish and innocent, but as she spoke these words, there was a naive yet cruel arrogance on her face.

Zhaocui fell silent for a moment before replying:

“But she is your sister, Goddess.”

“Who told her to steal my father! Who asked her to come to our home!”

Zhong Yingying was utterly aggrieved.

Before Zhong Xianqing arrived, she had been the most beloved little princess of the royal manor. Aside from her two older brothers, her father spent the most time playing with her.

But now, half of her father’s attention and affection had to be shared with that girl. Why should she? She was just a lowborn daughter born to a concubine!

She was born noble—why should she have to share anything with a base-born illegitimate child?

Zhaocui seemed to drift into a daze, as if recalling something.

Perhaps it was from her childhood, when her mother had dragged her back to the palace just as she was about to go play with her elder sister, whispering over and over in her ear:

—Listen well, Zhao’er. From the moment you were born, from the moment her ungrateful mother nearly became empress, you two were destined to be rivals, mortal enemies! How could you ever be sisters?

—A woman’s life is spent fighting for favor, for status. If you don’t fight, you’ll be trampled into the mud!

—She befriends you only to compete with you! Would you trade places with her and live her life of hunger and cold?

“…You’re right.”

After a long pause, Zhaocui smiled faintly, as if affirming the girl—or perhaps affirming herself.

“She is lowborn, and you are noble. It is only natural that she should step aside for you.”

Zhaocui took a deep breath and clasped the girl’s hand.

“In a few days, it will be your father’s birthday. I’ll prepare the finest gift for you—one that will surely win his favor.”

Zhong Yingying’s face immediately bloomed with a bright, innocent smile.

After leaving Zhong Yingying’s room, Zhaocui and her entourage passed by the manor’s training grounds.

Under the moonlit sky, the training grounds were empty—except for a delicate-looking little girl practicing with her newly acquired sword.

Zhaocui’s gaze shifted to the lotus pond beside the training grounds.

If this child died, Goddess Ying Chu’s troubles would also vanish.

Chongming God would no longer pressure her, and she could stay peacefully by the Young Lord’s side, free from these dangerous and complicated schemes.

If she died, everyone would be freed.

Before the two Barren Sea Celestial Clan guards beside her could react, Zhaocui raised the Jade Clarity Fan and gave it a light flick, summoning a gust of wind strong enough to knock a twelve-year-old girl into the pond.

Splash—

Ripples spread across the lotus pond.

The child clearly couldn’t swim. After struggling briefly in the water, the surface grew still again.

This was the first time in both her lifetimes that Zhaocui had taken a life.

Pressing a hand to her wildly pounding heart, she forced her voice to remain steady:

“Let’s go.”

The two Barren Sea Celestial Clan guards exchanged uneasy glances.

“Your Highness, you used a Celestial Artifact to kill Zhong Xianqing. If the Heavenly Dao judges the Karmic Force…”

“If I’m not afraid, why should you be?”

At worst, she’d suffer some internal injuries. She was working for Mount Sumeru Immortal Realm—if she were hurt, they would naturally send her the finest healing treasures, just as they had with this Jade Clarity Fan.

And after this, she would never have to do these things again.

The figure above Prince Duan’s Mansion vanished into the night.

Yet from within the lotus pond came the sound of a second splash.

“Cough, cough—!”

The little girl Zhuoying fished out was pale from choking, taking a while before she could breathe freely again.

Once she saw the face of her rescuer, the drenched girl blinked, then immediately clung to Zhuoying’s waist and burst into loud sobs.

“I knew it! I knew Fairy Sister would come to save me when I was in danger— cough, cough, cough…”

Her cries dissolved into another fit of coughing.

Exhausted, Zhuoying weakly raised a hand to pat her back:

“Don’t speak.”

Watching the pitiful girl spit out water, Zhuoying sighed with lingering fear.

Fortunately, Zhong Xianqing had called out in time, and she happened to be preparing to descend to the mortal realm.

Otherwise, the tool she’d painstakingly found to earn Merit Points would have drowned in a lousy pond.

After struggling in the water, both looked disheveled as they supported each other back to the room.

“—You’re saying tonight’s incident is related to my sister?”

The girl wiping Zhuoying’s hair with a handkerchief looked puzzled.

“But when I was practicing swordplay, there was no one around…”

“This world holds more than just me among the immortals.”

After a long pause, Zhuoying spoke softly:

“Your sister already harbors murderous intent toward you. How do you plan to respond?”

The question left Zhong Xianqing stunned.

“…I don’t know.”

She knew Zhong Yingying disliked her, but never imagined the hatred ran deep enough to wish her dead.

“You must know.”

Zhuoying lifted her gaze, damp strands clinging to her snow-pale face. Her calm eyes held something mysterious and dangerous, like a water spirit.

“If you don’t know how to save yourself, do you think I’ll appear so promptly next time?”

Zhong Xianqing sensed Fairy Sister’s displeasure and quickly said:

“I—I’ve thought of something… I’ll never show mercy again. I’ll strive for Father’s favor, compete with Zhong Yingying, make him cherish me more, so she wouldn’t dare…”

Seeing Zhuoying’s unchanged expression, she nervously twisted the handkerchief.

“Is this… wrong?”

Zhuoying smiled faintly:

“In saving oneself, there’s only what works and what doesn’t—no right or wrong. You’re not wrong, just choosing an ineffective path.”

Zhong Xianqing stared blankly.

“Favor is the most fleeting thing. Cherished today, you’re safe for a day; discarded tomorrow, your life hangs by a thread. You speak of winning your father’s love, but when Zhong Yingying was most favored, what did she truly have?”

Zhong Xianqing pondered. “Fine clothes, lavish feasts, adored by all?”

Wasn’t that enough?

To her, it seemed the happiest life imaginable.

Zhuoying asked, “And your brothers?”

Zhong Xianqing froze.

“The position of heir, inheritance of your father’s wealth, tutors for poetry and horsemanship, the freedom to come and go as you please—when Zhong Yingying was most favored, did she touch any of these?”

Zhong Xianqing was dumbfounded.

“But… but those were never meant to—”

“You think yourself inferior to your brothers?”

That wasn’t the case.

Zhong Xianqing thought to herself that both her elder brothers were rather dull—neither excelling in literary pursuits nor martial arts. Despite their tutors’ earnest efforts to impart knowledge, she learned more just by eavesdropping outside the window.

“In the prince’s mansion and outside, who holds higher status—your brothers or Zhong Yingying?”

Zhong Xianqing fell silent.

Even as a child, she understood how prestigious the heir of a prince’s mansion was. Even a princess couldn’t compare.

Noticing her expression, Zhuoying smiled faintly and walked over to the study desk in the room.

The desk was fully equipped with brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. As she picked up a brush, she said:

“When I first met you, I told you to fight for what you want—but not over mere clothes or jewelry.”

“If you’re going to fight, aim for the most stable, most valuable things in this world—things that will never betray you.”

Zhong Xianqing looked utterly confused and asked blankly:

“What are those?”

With the final stroke on the paper, Zhuoying folded it neatly and handed it to her.

“Take this letter, and you can become a disciple of the Utmost Subtlety Sage. Though he attained enlightenment through literature, he is one of the foremost cultivation masters in the mortal realm. Under his guidance, you can master both literary and martial arts.”

A month later, during Prince Duan’s birthday banquet, two incidents became the talk of Jicheng.

The first was the young princess of Prince Duan’s mansion performing a long-lost Celestial Dance Music, summoning countless butterflies in winter to form the character for “longevity” in the sky as a tribute to the prince.

The mansion’s Daoist priest declared that the princess possessed a Celestial Bone Structure and an extraordinary fate, making her a lucky star destined to bring prosperity to the family. Prince Duan was overjoyed, and the incident became widely celebrated.

The second was the heir of Prince Duan’s mansion somehow gaining the favor of the Utmost Subtlety Sage, departing that very day for Kunlun Mountain to study under the sage.

In the Great Yong Dynasty, even three-year-olds knew of the Utmost Subtlety Sage’s reputation.

A wandering scholar with three thousand disciples, his most outstanding followers were all exceptional talents of their time. Many considered it an honor to study under him.

Thus, the otherwise unremarkable heir of Prince Duan’s mansion gaining the sage’s favor became a topic of astonishment in Jicheng for quite some time.

In truth, there was a third unexpected event in Prince Duan’s mansion.

After the birthday celebrations, the second young lady, Zhong Xianqing, suddenly fell gravely ill and was sent to a countryside estate to recuperate, unlikely to return anytime soon.

The news quickly reached both the Mount Sumeru Immortal Realm and the Barren Sea.

The Chongming God was delighted:

“The Barren Sea’s Princess Zhaocui works with such efficiency! With Zhong Xianqing now half-dead, she won’t hinder Ying Chu anymore. No matter how clever Chi Shui Zhuo Ying of the Supreme Purity Heavenly Palace is, she likely can’t turn the tide now.”

Zhaocui was also surprised.

After learning that Zhong Xianqing hadn’t died from drowning that day, she had initially felt regret. Yet a month later, the girl fell severely ill again.

This was even better—she wouldn’t bear the Karmic Force of killing, and the matter was resolved neatly.

Only one thing puzzled her:

How did the heir of Prince Duan’s mansion get involved with the Utmost Subtlety Sage?

Mention of the sage reminded Zhaocui of Zhuoying, but she couldn’t see any connection between the two.

Oh well. As long as Goddess Ying Chu could undergo her tribulation smoothly, what did other matters have to do with her?

Thus, the Mount Sumeru Immortal Realm and the Barren Sea enjoyed six months of peace.

Until the day the heir of Prince Duan’s mansion returned from his studies—

“Disaster, my God! Something has happened in the mortal realm! The heir of Prince Duan’s mansion has returned!”

The Chongming God frowned at Ting Yun, who had rushed in flustered to deliver the news.

“Returning to the residence is just returning—why are you so panicked?”

Ting Yun had hurried back from the mortal realm, his youthful and handsome face flushed from running:

“Because… because the one who returned isn’t Prince Duan’s heir, it’s… it’s…”

It was Zhong Xianqing, disguised as a man.

For all these years, the one who had studied under the Utmost Subtlety Sage and moved about under the identity of Prince Duan’s heir was none other than Zhong Xianqing.

Upon hearing this news, Zhaocui was dumbfounded.

This is bad.

If it were anyone else, it might not matter—but if the mastermind behind this was her elder sister…

Even if it had originally been an act, the identity of Prince Duan’s heir, Zhong Xianqing, was now irretrievably lost.

At the same time, on the training grounds of Fusang Academy.

“What rotten luck, getting paired with me.”

Xie Cexuan looked at the girl assigned to spar with him, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

“Fine. Considering your pitiful cultivation, I’ll give you a handicap—one hand, no Immortal Power. If you can make me move even a single step, you win. Deal?”

Zhuoying was halfway through listening to his words when she suddenly sensed a shift within her meridians.

A continuous stream of spiritual energy was pouring into her body.

It was the same sensation she had felt during previous increases in Merit Points.

But this time was different. Unlike before, when the energy had flowed through her meridians and vanished without a trace, it now remained.

It gathered in her dantian, filling her, spreading through her entire body with every breath she took.

A premonition stirred within her.

She took a deep breath.

Xie Cexuan crossed his arms, about to mock her for being weak yet putting on airs, when suddenly—a palm shot toward him at an unexpected speed, right before his eyes.

Too close.

And he had no time to react.

Before he could even process what had happened, the world spun. He barely managed to flip midair and land on one hand, then jerked his head up to meet the girl’s slowly spreading smile.

“Young God of War, wasn’t that step a bit too big?”

Xie Cexuan: “…”

Damn it!

Since when did she have Immortal Power?!

Author’s Note:

Sorry for the delay! Dropping fifty red envelopes for this chapter—mwah mwah!

Also, the next chapter marks the start of the VIP arc. Thank you all for your support along the way—I’ll be waiting for you in the VIP chapter with more red envelopes!

—

Check out my upcoming novel, *The Immortal Realm’s Top Kindergarten*.

Shen Zhuoyu was born with a sword bone, her celestial grace unmatched, her blade sweeping through countless geniuses of the cultivation world.

As the head disciple of Zhaoye Immortal Residence, she devoted her life to the sect, sacrificing everything—until the day the demonic horde descended. Betrayed by the sect leader, her sword bone gouged out, her golden core ripped away, she was torn apart like livestock.

When she opened her eyes again, Shen Zhuoyu found herself reborn five hundred years in the past, the year she had been taken in by Zhaoye Immortal Residence.

That year, five-year-old Zhuoyu lived as an outcast, lucky to get three meals a day—but guaranteed four beatings.

Little Zhuoyu blinked up at her, eyes brimming with hope:

“Are you an immortal sent from the heavens to save me?”

Battered and bruised, Shen Zhuoyu, pale-faced, tossed the drunken uncle she was dragging into a cesspit.

She stared at her emaciated younger self for a long, long time.

“Kid, stop dreaming.”

“Heaven and earth are merciless. The only salvation is saving yourself.”

—

To one day take revenge on Zhaoye Immortal Residence, Shen Zhuoyu founded her own sect—with her younger self in tow.

I thought I would have to bide my time for five hundred years, but on the very first day the sect was established, a “Cultivation World Talent Development System” chimed into existence within my consciousness.  

Simply put, by nurturing future villains who would wreak havoc into becoming pillars of the cultivation world, I could obtain resources for the sect’s growth.  

And so—  

The twin sister from an immortal cultivation family, treated as living medicine for her younger brother’s illness—**get**.  

The illegitimate daughter of the Demon Lord, abandoned in the Ten Thousand Demon Abyss for two hundred years—**get**.  

The young master of the demon race, rejected by his own kind for his poor innate talent—**get**.  

…  

Soon, all the major sects heard rumors of a new sect in the cultivation world that specialized in taking in strange children, jokingly referring to Shen Zhuoyu’s sect as a “kindergarten” behind her back.  

That was until the Immortal Realm’s grand sect competition, where the sect—once dismissed as a gathering place for problem children—revealed a dazzling array of prodigies, sweeping through the cultivation world and crushing the elite disciples of the number one sect, the Zhaoye Immortal Residence.  

And standing beside the female sect master in the audience, a crimson-robed youth with a lazy demeanor, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Demon Lord, rested his chin on his hand and smiled innocently:  

“How about using your former master’s head as a betrothal gift?”