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Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. For A Shang, these fifteen days had been incredibly fulfilling—attending classes during the day, taking on sect missions to earn spirit stones, and meditating diligently at night.
Late one evening, just past the second watch, A Shang, who had only been meditating for a short while, suddenly opened her eyes, her face lighting up with joy.
After days of relentless cultivation, her cultivation base had finally advanced by a level.
Wu Zhu, who was half-lying on the bed munching on melon seeds while reading a storybook, caught sight of her faint smile out of the corner of his eye and nearly jumped. “What’s with you? Why are you smiling so… creepily all of a sudden?”
As he spoke, he flipped the cover of the book he was reading toward her—just to make sure she didn’t have some kind of X-ray vision that allowed her to see the embarrassingly melodramatic romance novel in his hands.
Yes, despite being an ancient demon who had lived for tens of thousands of years, Wu Zhu was different from his peers who took pleasure in tormenting humans. When he wasn’t eating, he preferred lounging in sunny spots, cracking melon seeds while indulging in trashy romance novels.
Because of this, that old fox Jiuyin often teased him for being “more human than humans.”
At the thought of his old comrades—the ones he had once spent every waking moment with—a shadow flickered through Wu Zhu’s eyes.
Having been imprisoned in the Ten Thousand Spirit Abyss for millennia, he could only imagine that his old companions hadn’t fared much better.
If possible, he truly wished he could see them again.
Over these long years, he had reflected deeply. In his reckless youth, he had committed countless atrocities, but now, looking back, nothing seemed more desirable than living a peaceful, stable life.
“Can you feel it?” A Shang’s gaze flickered toward him, carrying a rare trace of delight.
“Huh?” Wu Zhu tossed a few more melon seeds into his mouth.
A Shang: “My spiritual energy.”
Wu Zhu narrowed his eyes, sensing the flow of power within her. “Mhm, I feel it. It’s grown a bit.”
A Shang’s lips curled into a faint smile.
Seeing the hint of joy on her face, Wu Zhu froze. Over the past half-month of living together, he had noticed that A Shang rarely smiled—usually, her expression was icy cold during cultivation.
With such a lovely face, it was a shame she seldom let it show.
Wu Zhu: “Actually, if you want to boost your spiritual energy, you don’t have to rely solely on rigid cultivation. There’s a much faster method.”
“A faster method?” A Shang was puzzled.
“That stone-faced Sword Cultivator Dao companion of yours. He’s a rare pure yang physique—using him as a cultivation cauldron would be more effective than months of hard training.”
Wu Zhu had long since gathered the details about A Shang and that expressionless swordsman. According to the sect disciples, A Shang had allegedly drugged the Xie fellow out of lust for his beauty, forcing herself on him to become his Dao companion.
Though Wu Zhu hadn’t known A Shang for long, their time together had convinced him that the A Shang he knew would never resort to drugging someone.
There had to be more to the story.
“Because of that Xie guy, you’ve been misunderstood and slandered by so many. Shouldn’t you at least take some compensation from him?” The memory of that stone-faced man hurling him off Yujie Peak still rankled Wu Zhu. One day, he would get his revenge!
A Shang: “…”
She should’ve known nothing good would come out of his mouth.
Taking a deep breath, the smile vanished from A Shang’s face. “If you suggest something like that again, I’ll make you go a full day without food.”
Wu Zhu: “!!!”
Instantly, the melon seeds in his hand lost their flavor. “Nooo, Shang Shang—!”
Forcing him to go a day without food was worse than killing him.
“Get down,” A Shang said. “I’m going to sleep.”
Her tiny shack had only one bed, so they took turns sleeping—one night each. Tonight was A Shang’s turn.
Wu Zhu climbed off the bed, watching as the girl lay down with her back to him, still fully dressed.
He wasn’t sure if his words had upset her. Though they were supposed to alternate nights, most of the time, she let him have the bed.
Maybe she really was angry. Well, fine—he’d just eat less tomorrow. Maybe then she’d forgive him.
With that thought, Wu Zhu sprawled out on the hard daybed nearby.
Outside the window, the night was pitch black, tree shadows swaying in the wind. Deep in the dense woods beyond, two dark figures stood motionless, their pairs of emerald-green eyes fixed intently on the girl lying in bed.
After what felt like an eternity, their gaze slowly shifted to the red-haired youth snoring loudly on the daybed. A cold glint flashed in those jade-green eyes as they silently drew icy daggers from their sleeves.
*
A common saying in the cultivation world was that Sword Cultivators were the poorest of all. The reason? They lacked money-making skills. Talisman Cultivators could sell talismans, Alchemists could peddle pills, Artifact Crafters could trade spiritual tools—
But Sword Cultivators? They had nothing to sell—in fact, they often had to spend money maintaining their swords, frequently ending up in the red.
As a Blade Cultivator, A Shang was in the same boat. Already struggling to make ends meet, now she had to support Wu Zhu’s bottomless appetite, plunging her further into poverty.
Thus, she had no choice but to take on more sect missions to earn spirit stones.
“There’s currently a demon-slaying mission outside the sect. We’re still one person short—are you interested? The reward is fifty spirit stones.”
Compared to the measly three or four stones earned from gathering herbs or doing odd jobs around the sect, fifty was undeniably tempting.
Since this was a group hunt rather than a solo mission, A Shang accepted without hesitation.
This was her first time, across both lifetimes, leaving the Immortal Sect as an official disciple on a demon-slaying assignment.
Aside from providing basic protective talismans and healing pills, the sect also issued first-time hunters a Cultivation Spirit Card—a universal tool in the cultivation world for accepting missions and communication.
Binding the card to her identity, A Shang immersed her consciousness into its spiritual sea. A line of text materialized before her:
Immortal Sect – A Shang – Blade Cultivator – Foundation Establishment Stage – Heavenly Ranking: 99+
Seeing her rank, A Shang sighed softly. “As expected, I’m still too weak.”
The next moment, the text faded, replaced by the top ten names on the Heavenly Ranking.
Her gaze was immediately drawn to the first line, gleaming in radiant gold:
Immortal Sect – Xie Hengyu – Sword Cultivator – [Unknown] – Heavenly Ranking: 1
Beside it, countless fervent admirers had left messages—most praising his strength and achievements.
A Shang had intended to exit, but watching the endless stream of scrolling text, she finally left an anonymous comment:
“No one stays at the top forever.”