Eastern Isle Tianji, the Main Hall of the Three Trials.
Today marked the first day of the exam for outer sect disciples aspiring to join the inner sect—commonly known as the written test.

Inside and outside the hall, 327 outer sect disciples gathered. On each purple sandalwood desk sat a small, elegant white jade incense burner, its curling smoke meant to refresh the mind and calm the spirit.
On the desks lay 88 written test scrolls.

Ling Luo was staring blankly at the thirty-seventh scroll.

The familiar scent of Tianji wood wafting through her nose failed to calm her; instead, it made her temple throb.

She glanced at the pen in her hand, then raised her head to look around the room.

The hall was filled with a sea of people, all wearing the same dark green sect uniforms, their belts inscribed with the sect’s entry talismans.

The girl sitting to her left looked up, her emerald-green teardrop earring catching the light.

When their eyes met, the girl gave Ling Luo a gentle smile and mouthed silently, “Good luck.”

Everything was exactly the same as it had been back then.

Ling Luo took a deep breath, her gaze complicated as it returned to the scroll on the desk.
When she perished alongside the Heavenly Dao, she had felt no attachment to this world.

Yet she had awakened, inexplicably, to find herself back at the age of sixteen.
At this moment, she was still an outer sect disciple of Tianji Sect on the Eastern Isle.

But in her later years, after succumbing to her inner demons, she had massacred half of the Eastern Isle Tianji.

Once, she was the cherished personal disciple of the sect’s third headmaster—the pride of the sect, the most beloved junior sister among her fellow personal disciples, and the most revered senior sister among the “Yu” generation of disciples.

Yet she was also the one who trespassed into forbidden grounds, killed her master, betrayed the righteous path, and was relentlessly hunted by thousands of disciples under an oath of life and death.

Truly, fate had a way of toying with people.

Sighing inwardly, Ling Luo lazily picked up her pen to answer the exam questions.
So what if she was given another chance? Did the Heavenly Dao really think she would change her decisions?

Ling Luo felt neither surprise nor excitement at her rebirth.

In fact, she found it dull. If this was some ploy of the Heavenly Dao, it was bound to be disappointed.

If she were to live again, she would walk the same path as before.
The people she wanted to save—she would save them.
The people she wanted to kill—she would kill them.

The Eastern Isle Tianji was one of the Twelve Great Immortal Sects, and the foremost sect in the Eastern Isle.
It was divided into three branches, each with its own headmaster.

Ling Luo cast a glance toward the high platform.
The man seated there had a mustache shaped like the character for “eight,” a corpulent figure, and cheeks that jiggled when he smiled.
He sat cross-legged on a white velvet mat, which hovered above the ground, suspended by his sword’s spiritual energy.

This was Hall Master Fan of Tianyun Sect, the proctor for today’s exam.
Though his appearance seemed jovial and kind, he was a strict adherent of sect rules. Whatever the sect rules dictated, he followed without exception.

When he noticed a disciple cheating, he lightly flicked his fingers on the table beside him. The incense burner emitted a dense mist, and the cheating disciple immediately fainted at their desk, carried out by patrolling inner sect disciples.

Hall Master Fan announced with a cheerful smile, “As per Rule 163 of the sect, remove their uniform, erase their sect mark, and expel them.”

In her past life, Ling Luo had been entirely focused during this exam, striving to enter the inner sect.
Now, she found herself more indifferent, even taking a moment to look back at the commotion.

She sat in the last row of the inner hall. The thirty-two hall doors stood wide open, offering a clear view of the orderly desks lined up outside the steps.

Patrolling inner sect disciples, dressed in white robes with golden belts, stood out. Their clothing and the spell formations embroidered on them were far more refined and elegant than those of the outer sect disciples.

“Focus.”

A jade flute lightly tapped her desk as an inner sect disciple stopped beside her, gently reminding her.

Ling Luo froze at the familiar voice.
She turned her gaze back to the desk but stole a glance at the man beside her.

He wore a jade crown securing his hair, one hand clasped behind his back, the other spinning the emerald jade flute in his hand before resting it at his waist.
The jade flute emitted faint sparks of light, a rare high-grade weapon.

The young man’s demeanor was poised and composed. His fair complexion and delicate eyebrows framed phoenix eyes that were warm and gentle rather than aloof.

One of the favored disciples of the third headmaster.

Yu Xiu.
The second senior brother she had once admired.

Seeing an old acquaintance again, the reality of her rebirth hit Ling Luo even harder.
Imitating Yu Xiu, she twirled the brush in her hand, accidentally spilling ink onto the paper.

Yu Xiu: “…”

Ling Luo suppressed a smile at the corners of her lips, maintaining an air of composure as she continued to answer questions.

Yu Xiu glanced at her from beneath lowered brows.

This outer-sect junior sister had neat handwriting and had answered all the questions correctly, yet her earlier demeanor of idle amusement and playful antics made her seem mischievous.

In her past life, Lingluo had aced the written exam. In this life, however, she found herself hesitating over a few questions.

Back then, she had been intensely diligent, spending her time as an outer-sect disciple immersed in study and martial practice.

After all, she had come to Dongdao Tianji to escape a pursuit, keeping to herself before entering the inner sect. She spoke little and left barely a trace of her presence.

During the annual outer-sect entrance exam, her perfect scores in both the written and martial tests earned her entry into the inner sect and the favor of the third sect master, who accepted her as a personal disciple.

This was the first time she had garnered attention.

It had been so long ago that it took her some effort to recall those memories.

From noon to dusk, the sandalwood incense burned to the end.

“Pens down,” announced Master Fan, the head examiner. “Today’s three tests are over. You may leave.”

Ling Luo stood and followed the group out.

Outside the hall, beyond the sight of Master Fan, the disciples finally relaxed and began chatting.

“I can’t believe I didn’t write a single word on the last scroll!”

“This was so hard! Too hard! Oh, Mother, the questions were impossible this year!”

“Who was caught cheating earlier? How bold to do so right under Master Fan’s nose!”

“Senior brother! What did you pick for the last question on the thirty-sixth scroll?”

“Pick your nonsense! I didn’t answer it!”

“…”

“Ling Luo!” A girl with emerald earrings swaying beside her ears caught up, her accessories gleaming in the twilight.

Qin Yuan walked over to Ling Luo, smiling warmly as she invited, “Want to come to the evening dining hall for a meal?”

Ling Luo, always solitary and reserved, had such a low presence that only Qin Yuan, who had joined the sect with her, ever spoke to her.

This invitation had been extended dozens of times before, but Lingluo had always declined. She preferred cooking her meals back at her small courtyard.

Because she was being pursued, even the outer sect posed risks for her, and she avoided crowded places whenever possible.

Thinking of how the people from the Xiaoyao Sect would come to Dongdao Tianji in a month to hunt her down as a “murderer,” she had worked herself to exhaustion to gain entry into the inner sect to escape that disaster.

“Lingluo?” Qin Yuan waved her hand in front of the girl’s eyes when she noticed her lost in thought. “Are you not coming again?”

Lingluo snapped back to attention, tilting her head to look at Qin Yuan, her smile radiant. “I’ll go.”

Qin Yuan was momentarily stunned by the smile.

She had always thought Lingluo was quiet and obedient, yet sometimes there was a shadow of melancholy about her, making her irresistibly curious.

It was the first time she’d seen Lingluo smile.

What a beautiful smile it was.

Why doesn’t she smile more often?

“Come on.” Qin Yuan took her hand cheerfully. “You hardly ever go. I bet you don’t even remember the way!”

“Hmm, I don’t really,” Lingluo admitted, looking ahead. “I’ve never really taken a good look at the scenery in the outer sect. I can barely tell one place from another.”

Qin Yuan chuckled, pointing as they walked. “You spend all day cooped up reading. Forget the outer sect; I bet you don’t even recognize most of your fellow disciples. If I didn’t come looking for you every day, would you even remember my name?”

Lingluo laughed softly, her demeanor now vastly different from before her rebirth.

In her previous life, she had been consumed by the pursuit of excellence and power, striving to stand above others. From an esteemed cultivator championing righteousness to one of the infamous Twenty-Six Demons, and eventually clashing with the heavens themselves—her end was mutual destruction.

“Go past the Sanfang Hall, head toward the Discipline Hall, and you’ll see the Cloud Pavilion of the inner sect. Cross Westwater Lake, and we’ll reach the evening dining hall,” Qin Yuan explained as they walked.

Lingluo listened attentively, but inwardly she scoffed.

The misty clouds and elegant architecture before her, even the stone-paved path adorned with flowers leading to an ethereal realm, were all destined to be obliterated by her hand in a decade.

During the battle at Dongdao Tianji back then, her momentum was unstoppable.

The sect master had fallen at her hands, along with several hall masters.

She had intended to destroy the entire Tianji Sect, but her rampage was interrupted midway by a certain meddling sword cultivator.

The greatest swordmaster of the era.

His swordsmanship even surpassed hers.

Recalling him, Lingluo raised an eyebrow and gazed at the surface of Westwater Lake.

The clear waters reflected green lotus leaves and delicate blossoms, with red koi swimming leisurely below.

He had stood on this lake back then, braving her furious sword winds without retreating a single step, blocking one of her strikes.

Handsome yet wooden, that man.

As a youth, he had stolen her title as the top sword cultivator.

Later, as one of the Twenty-Six Demons, her attempts to kill were repeatedly thwarted by him. Whenever she sought to duel him, her swordsmanship fell just short of his.

That “just short” had persisted until her death.

Still—when that wooden swordmaster delivered himself to her later on, he hadn’t had a pleasant time under her control.

Ling Luo’s mood improved as she thought about it, and even a faint smile crept onto her face.

The dining hall for the outer sect disciples was bustling, with a mix of outer and inner sect disciples. Many inner sect disciples who managed outer sect affairs chose to dine here as well.

Not far from Ling Luo’s table, a group of inner sect disciples sat together, accompanied by an outer sect disciple.

They seemed to have a close relationship.

Qin Yuan sighed quietly and said, “Senior Brother Xiuman has the guidance and support of inner sect disciples. He’s bound to enter the inner sect this year.”

Ling Luo, focused on picking at the shredded carrots in her bowl, responded with a simple “Mm.”

Qin Yuan bit her chopsticks and added, “But Senior Brother Xiuman isn’t diligent in his cultivation. He’s just rich. He gangs up with inner sect disciples to bully others. Many people harbor resentment against him but can’t do anything about it.”

She frowned and warned, “Ling Luo, if you make it into the inner sect, stay away from those senior brothers. They’re not good people.”

Ling Luo replied, “Alright.”

Qin Yuan blinked, surprised at how obedient she was today. She turned to look, only to find Ling Luo meticulously picking out every bit of carrot in her bowl, leaving not a trace behind.

For some reason, she found Ling Luo’s persistence adorably endearing.

Feeling a surge of sympathy, Qin Yuan fetched another bowl of food. “Here, eat this. There’s no carrot in it.”

Ling Luo looked up in slight surprise.

Qin Yuan took her bowl filled with carrots and said, “I’ll eat this for you.”

Ling Luo poked at the food in her new bowl with her chopsticks.

She hadn’t had much interaction with Qin Yuan in her past life. Back in the outer sect, it had always been Qin Yuan initiating conversations while she ignored her.

After joining different branches of the sect as inner disciples, they had rarely seen each other again.

Ling Luo wondered idly whether, during the great battle at Tianji years ago, she might have accidentally killed this kind-hearted girl.

---

The Eastern Isle Tianji Sect was divided into three branches:
Tianyun Sect, Tianzhou Sect, and Sanji Sect.

Ling Luo had been an outer disciple of Tianyun Sect. Each year, there was a ten-day inner sect entrance exam.

Outer sect disciples lived in dormitories at the foot of the mountain, either in shared accommodations or individual cottages. Despite the sheer size of Tianji Sect, which housed thousands of disciples across its outer and inner sects, there was never a shortage of housing.

Returning to her small cottage, Ling Luo stood at the entrance, silently observing the familiar yet distant layout inside. After a moment, she stepped inside, closed the door, and lay on the bed to rest.

Maybe, just maybe, when she opened her eyes, she would be back where she belonged.

But fate didn’t grant her wish.

The next morning, Qin Yuan’s voice woke her up. “Ling Luo! Ling Luo! Get up! It’s time for morning lessons!”

Oh.

Was the mighty Demon Queen, at the age of twenty-six, seriously going to morning classes now?

Yawning, Ling Luo got up lazily. She put on the dark green sect uniform beside her, loosely tied her long hair, and opened the door.

The bright sunlight made her squint reflexively.

Today’s exam would take place in the afternoon, but there were two hours of morning lessons beforehand.

Morning lessons were divided by branches, with disciples of each sect attending their respective halls.

The instructors, called “respected masters,” varied—sometimes excellent inner disciples, other times hall masters or even branch heads.

The latter was rare, though.

While the respected master lectured eloquently in the hall, Ling Luo struggled to stay awake.

The cool morning breeze blew through the windows, brushing her face and waking her up a little.

As she looked outside, she noticed a group of people walking by the lake beneath the pink and white pear blossoms.

At the back of the group was a boy wearing a dark green sect uniform. However, he had tied up his long sleeves and hem, giving him a more practical appearance.

He was carrying three jars of wine and walking with his head lowered.

Suddenly, an inner disciple walking ahead turned and kicked him. The boy’s body bent forward momentarily before he straightened up again.

It seemed like a heavy kick.

Ling Luo blinked, watching as the group quickly disappeared under the pear blossoms and out of sight.

Why did that figure seem so familiar?

She wracked her brain, trying to recall.

The kicker was undoubtedly one of the inner disciples Qin Yuan had mentioned the day before—those of questionable character.

But as for the boy who got kicked, she didn’t think they had ever met before. Yet something about his figure and silhouette felt strangely familiar.

Was he someone from her past life whom she had forgotten?

Ling Luo pondered this all the way until the morning lesson ended, unable to come up with an answer.

---

In the afternoon, the written exam resumed at the main hall.

Having taken a nap, Ling Luo arrived a little late.

As she passed the desks at the foot of the steps on her way to the main hall, she noticed they were nearly full.

At the hall entrance, Qin Yuan waved at her, signaling her to hurry up.

Ling Luo strolled leisurely. As she reached the steps, a chestnut rolled off someone’s desk and onto the path. Its owner immediately bent down to pick it up.

She glanced over and saw a wooden nameplate on the desk inscribed with three characters: Yue Liangze.

Ling Luo’s eyes widened slightly, and she stopped in her tracks, momentarily dazed.

She lowered her gaze to the young man sitting at the desk.

The fleeting glimpse she had caught of him that morning by the pear blossoms returned to her mind. Now, seeing his face up close, she finally remembered.

Even as a teenager, his slightly delicate features were enough for her to recognize him.

Yue Liangze.

The first sword cultivator of the immortal sects, who had saved half of the Eastern Isle Tianji from her hands.

The wooden-headed man who had always been at odds with her.

“Ling Luo! Ling Luo!” Qin Yuan’s anxious voice called from the hall entrance.

But Ling Luo remained frozen, staring intently at the boy in front of her.

Sensing the gaze, the young man slowly looked up. His long black lashes quivered, and his bright yet calm eyes reflected the image of the girl standing by his desk.

“Be seated,” came Hall Master Fan’s clear voice from behind. “The second round of the exam is about to begin. Distribute the scrolls.”

“Let’s go!” Qin Yuan grabbed Ling Luo’s hand and dragged her toward the hall.

Ling Luo turned her head to look back.

She saw inner disciples distributing exam scrolls row by row. The boy in the dark green sect uniform had lowered his head again, focusing on the desk before him.