Chapter 1: First Encounter  

Qin Miaoyan had recently lost not only her appetite but also her libido.  

Of the three little pets she kept for amusement, two had already been given away. She had browsed the Demon pet market countless times but hadn’t found anything she liked.  

She had never felt life to be so dull before—so dull that she even considered severing her five senses and going into seclusion for a few hundred years.  

Over the years, she had dallied with humans, demons, ghosts, and even devils—no category was off-limits. The consequence of such indiscriminate indulgence was that excitement became increasingly fleeting. The boredom that followed each thrill was like the emptiness after climax—utterly flavorless.  

In the past, she had been obsessed with climbing higher, stopping at nothing to rise in power. Eventually, she killed that old scoundrel of a master and ascended to the position of Rogue cultivator sovereign of Nether Valley. Her cultivation grew stronger, and no one dared to humiliate or trample on her anymore. At last, she could live as she pleased.  

But humans were like this—once they had lived freely for too long and everything they desired was within easy reach, they slowly began to find nothing interesting anymore.  

Killing was dull. Saving lives was dull. Sleeping with others was dull. Even manipulating life and death had lost its thrill.  

Since the great Immortal-Devil War a few years ago, when the Demon God had fallen and the mighty cultivators of various sects had perished in droves, there were very few left in the world who could rival her.  

The newly appointed Sect Immortal Chiefs of various sects were nothing more than a bunch of green sprouts—stacked together, they wouldn’t be enough to entertain her for even a single hand.  

How lonely was invincibility?  

So lonely that even a sovereign like her, the supreme ruler of Nether Valley, had started taking in disciples just to pass the time. She even had the patience to collaborate with those Immortal sects, concealing her true cultivation and appearance to serve as an elder in some pathetic Immortal Alliance.  

Today, she and the other elders of the Immortal Alliance were rushing to a newly emerged Secret Realm to rescue the disciples of various sects who were trapped inside—including those from her own Nether Valley.  

Along the way, the other elders were visibly tense. When they finally arrived near the town where the Secret Realm had appeared, they huddled together, analyzing the Image-recording jade sent back by the disciples to determine what kind of Evil spirit had trapped them.  

Qin Miaoyan, however, watched with disinterest.  

She wasn’t the least bit concerned about the life or death of her disciples—those few disciples of hers… were incredibly hard to kill.  

Besides, if they couldn’t even escape from such a low-level Secret Realm, then so be it if they died. At worst, she could just find a couple of new little disciples to amuse herself with.  

Moreover, Nether Valley had always had an unspoken rule: life and death were fated, and cultivation was stolen.  

Back when Qin Miaoyan was a disciple in Nether Valley, her dear master had not only used her as a test subject for medicines and various Evil art formations but had also traded her away for resources.  

She had survived and mastered all of that old scoundrel’s skills not through the protection of her master or elders.  

And so, while all the Immortal Alliance elders gathered around a table, repeatedly replaying the Image-recording jade of the disciples battling Evil spirits and analyzing how to deal with them, Qin Miaoyan’s gaze drifted aimlessly. She was considering whether to send a puppet in her stead to go through the motions while she returned home to play with her little pets.  

That new half-snake she had acquired—though his appearance wasn’t entirely to her liking, being a bit too delicate and his body too cold—had a tail that could twist quite skillfully, and his tongue was long and even forked.  

“It must be a Vine demon!” one white-bearded elder declared, using magic to freeze the image and pointing at the rampant vines on the screen. “This Vine demon is of no low rank. The disciples may struggle to handle it.”

“I think it’s a tree demon. Look, these roots are attacking people too. Such a massive tree demon must be dragging the disciples underground as nourishment. We must find a way to enter the Secret Realm tonight—any later and the disciples’ lives may be in danger!”

Their discussion grew too heated, disturbing Qin Miaoyan, who frowned and glanced at the image on the Image-recording jade.

Just one look was enough for her to recognize it as a symbiotic demon of vines and trees.

Its cultivation wasn’t particularly high, nor was its lethality strong. The reason it had trapped the disciples was simply because both trees and vines belonged to the wood-element spiritual roots. Wood nourishing wood meant an endless cycle—even if the branches and vines were severed, they would quickly regrow, making it a nuisance to deal with.

There was no need for them to rush in for a rescue.

Qin Miaoyan knew that neither trees nor vines killed their prey directly. Instead, they preferred to constrict their victims, releasing a paralyzing sap before slowly draining their blood and vitality.

Some of the more perverse ones would even engage in continuous coupling with their trapped prey to extract their essence.

Though troublesome, these demons weren’t invincible. Locate the main symbiotic root, dig out the demon core, and it would just take a bit more effort to finish them off.

But Qin Miaoyan remained frozen, her gaze locked onto the image.

Her lazy demeanor gradually faded as her half-lidded, alluring eyes widened fully.

Her fingers, previously resting idly on the table, twitched nervously before the blood in her body surged violently from her fingertips toward her heart—only to rush back out to her limbs with equal intensity.

In just two breaths, Qin Miaoyan felt like a stone statue, sealed away for millennia, had suddenly come to life.

Her eyes remained fixed on the Image-recording jade, where a young man was bound spread-eagle against a rock by the vines. Her heartbeat pounded like a sprout breaking through soil, so fiercely it threatened to shatter her ribs.

For a fleeting moment, she thought she had traveled back centuries.

To the days of her humble beginnings, when she had once pledged eternal devotion to a lover—one who had even promised to elope with her on the eve of a palace coup.

Back then, Qin Miaoyan had been nothing more than an ordinary palace maid in the Southern Jia Kingdom, struggling to survive. Nearing the age when maids were dismissed from service, she had seduced a guard named Li Xi, who served a prince, desperate to escape the fate of older maids who could only marry poorly and live out their days in misery.

She had genuinely wanted to build a life with him—after all, he was the best prospect she could have hoped for at the time.

Tall, handsome, and skilled in martial arts, he even knew a bit of immortal techniques. He had promised to marry her and treat her well for the rest of their lives.

But then… fate had been cruel. She had later heard he died trying to save her.

Now, her long-dormant heart began to race uncontrollably.

Though time had passed and the world had changed, though whatever affection she once held for that lover had long faded over the centuries…

His face, his voice—they remained etched vividly in Qin Miaoyan’s memory. Just like the young man entangled in the vines before her now—they were identical.

Qin Miaoyan rose from the table, her gaze never leaving the image.

After a moment, she made her decision—she would go in and see for herself.

So she rapped her knuckles against the table, cutting off the ongoing debate.

When all eyes turned toward her, she slowly shed her disguise, revealing her true appearance.  

Her delicate, almost plain features began to transform, like witnessing a flower gradually bloom—each petal unfurling made the onlookers hold their breath involuntarily.  

By the end, the beauty had reached its peak, carrying a hint of bewitching allure, leaving the elders of the Immortal Alliance too stunned to even breathe.  

“Qin—”  

A white-bearded elder squeezed out a single word from his throat before freezing like a crane with its neck clamped shut, unable to make another sound.  

Another reacted quickly, immediately bowing and cupping his hands in greeting. “Valley Master Qin.”  

“The supreme ruler of Nether Valley… Why would she come in person?”  

After a brief moment of shock, those who regained their composure swiftly gathered around, offering respectful salutes to Qin Miaoyan. Though few in the crowd had seen her true face, her reputation preceded her.  

Qin Miaoyan merely smiled.  

The world knew that Nether Valley was now a major sect of mixed cultivation, teeming with talents and countless Transcendent Realm elders.  

But who remembered that Nether Valley was once called Avici Hell—a refuge for demonic cultivators, rogue cultivators, and even demons and fiends, all despised by the righteous sects?  

And she, once reviled as the leader of a demonic sect and shunned by the righteous path, had now become the revered supreme ruler of a mixed sect.  

She had even abandoned the demeanor of a demonic sect leader, donning the uniform white robes of the Immortal Alliance, playing the role of a proper righteous sect leader.  

But Qin Miaoyan couldn’t be bothered with their flattery.  

She spoke directly, “This time, three of my beloved disciples from Nether Valley have also entered the Secret Realm. The evil spirits are not weak, and I am anxious to save my disciples. Do as you please—I’ll take my leave first!”  

Before her words even faded, she had already vanished from the spot.  

Under normal circumstances, she would never have stepped into some damned Secret Realm to rescue anyone. But now, she was the most eager to enter.  

She wanted to see for herself whether the young man in the image truly resembled her long-lost lover!  

It had been so long since anything had excited her like this.  

Qin Miaoyan had long since reached the pinnacle of demonic arts, and her righteous cultivation had already ascended to the Cocoon Soul Realm. With her current power, shattering the Secret Realm in an instant would be trivial.  

But she merely tore a small rift to enter, swiftly locating the disciples from various sects locked in fierce battle with parasitic vines.  

Over a hundred disciples had participated in this trial, but a quick glance revealed fewer than thirty remained.  

Qin Miaoyan cursed inwardly—what a bunch of useless fools.  

Yet she didn’t rush to help, nor did she reveal herself.  

Instead, she flicked her sleeve, releasing countless strands of puppet silk, nearly invisible to the naked eye. The moment they touched the ground, they dispersed like spiritual threads, burrowing hundreds of feet underground with effortless ease, quickly locating the demon core of the parasitic vines.  

Meanwhile, Qin Miaoyan’s gaze locked onto the young man she had seen in the image-recording jade.  

Even from behind, she recognized him instantly. When he stood, his height towered over the other cultivators—broad shoulders, long legs. The sight made Qin Miaoyan’s brow arch slightly.  

He was even half a head taller than her lover from all those years ago.

He had a penetrating wound on his shoulder, blood soaking through his black robe. Though not obvious, Qin Miaoyan could tell his injury was far from light.  

Yet he still stood with the other sect disciples, forming a formation to resist the frenzied onslaught of demon vines. His right hand was injured, but his left wielded his sword with such precision that not a single gap remained. The demon vines fell before him in a rustling cascade, his body slightly leaning forward, one foot braced ahead—fearless and unyielding, not once falling behind the others.  

Qin Miaoyan stood hidden in the distance, watching without hurry. She neither rushed to see his face nor hurried to rescue the disciples like some divine savior.  

Her lips curled in amusement, as if patiently unwrapping a carefully prepared gift. How dull it would be to tear the box open by force.  

First, she inserted a slender “key” into the “lock.”  

She had located the demon core but didn’t rush to extract it. Instead, she wrapped it in puppet silk.  

At the same time, the puppet silk she scattered on the ground swiftly infiltrated the vines and tendrils.  

In a brief moment, the parasitic vines showed a slight hesitation—a precursor to being parasitized and turned into a puppet of a stronger force.  

But no one present, not even those incompetent elders from the Immortal Alliance, would notice anything amiss.  

These struggling disciples, these so-called elites from various sects, mistook the brief pause in the vines’ assault as the result of their own attacks.  

“Excellent! The formation is working! Everyone, channel your spirit power into the Evil-slaying Formation!” shouted a leading disciple from the Hengjue Sect, immediately directing the others to expand the formation.  

But the next moment, the branches and vines suddenly surged, shooting up dozens of feet in the blink of an eye before crashing down upon the disciples like a tidal wave, swiftly ensnaring them all—  

Then the ground abruptly split open, and the vanguard of the formation was swallowed whole by a massive maw of vines that appeared out of nowhere. Beneath it lay an abyss so deep its bottom couldn’t be seen.  

The remaining disciples were also entangled by the vines. This time, for some reason, even their swords couldn’t easily cut through them.  

The few survivors who weren’t dragged underground suffered varying degrees of injury.  

Especially the black-robed man who had been the primary target of the vines.  

Now, he lay collapsed on the ground, battered and bloodied.  

His entire body was drenched in blood, his hands slick with it, yet he stubbornly clung to his sword, arching his back in a futile attempt to stand.  

Unfortunately, the vines soon coiled around his limbs, dragging him toward the lightless abyss below.  

As he felt himself falling, despair didn’t fill his heart—only regret for sneaking away from home without telling his parents. Now he would die in this unknown place, perhaps without even a corpse to bury.  

*Father, Mother… your son is unfilial.*  

The sunlight above was blinding. He closed his eyes, preparing for a final desperate struggle, when suddenly, someone shouted—  

“Master?!”  

A piercing spirit light streaked across the sky like a white rainbow piercing the sun. A vast, icy spirit stream surged like a tidal wave, sweeping away all obstacles in its path.  

The vines that had been dragging him into the abyss suddenly went limp, releasing his limbs.  

But this didn’t improve his situation—instead, he fell even faster.  

At this height, with his meridians—the pathways for spirit power—completely severed by the vines, he couldn’t muster even a trace of spirit power. He would be nothing but a bloody pulp upon impact.

His eyes brimmed with despair, but at that very moment, he was astonished to see the blinding white light coalesce into a human figure. Standing atop a slender Fish Gut Sword, surrounded by swirling Spirit Light, with long hair and robes billowing without wind, the figure descended like a celestial being from the heavens, riding the sword as it flew toward him.

Just before he plunged into the black abyss, an arm reached out and embraced him.