The silver needles embedded in Gu Chengxue’s body were plucked out by Jiang Yue with a flick of her hand.
Her muddled consciousness gradually cleared, and amid painful whimpers, she gasped for breath.
Yet in her voice was a trace of excitement, as if she relished this pain.
She lifted her head, seemingly fearless in the face of death.
She looked at Ling Huan and said, “Ah, Young Master’s lips are really soft, with a faint scent to them. Can we do it again? We got interrupted by some irrelevant person.”
Irrelevant person…?
With a sharp “crack,” Ling Huan didn’t know what broke—it might have been Jiang Yue’s hand, tightly clenched in her sleeve, causing her knuckles to make an odd sound.
At this moment, Ling Huan truly admired Gu Chengxue.
To dare provoke her own teacher at such a time—she really was a madwoman.
“Bah. I don’t think it smells good at all,” Ling Huan shot back at once.
“Feels like I was just forcefully kissed, disgusting!”
Ling Huan expressed her disgust without hesitation, thinking this would deal some blow to Gu Chengxue.
But…
“Of course~ I’m Young Master’s pig. You can kill or flay me as you wish~”
Ling Huan finally understood—for this sort of masochist, the more she expressed her revulsion, the happier Gu Chengxue became.
Hearing Ling Huan say this, Jiang Yue seemed to relax, her previously tense tone softening.
“Don’t think that just because you’re not afraid of death, you can do whatever you please. Though I teach and nurture, that’s not all I know. I’m somewhat versed in methods of torture. I can absolutely make you wish you were dead.”
Jiang Yue’s tone was calm, but a sharp aura radiated from her, forcing Gu Chengxue’s breath to hitch, cold sweat pouring, her face turning a livid pig-liver color.
Yet even so, the smug expression on Gu Chengxue’s face didn’t fade.
She still wore that smile, as if eager for the world to fall into chaos, and the heavier Jiang Yue’s hand, the more delighted she became.
Jiang Yue suddenly stopped.
Because she understood—violence wouldn’t work on this type.
Against someone who enjoyed it, she was utterly at a loss.
“Ah, cough cough, I almost thought I was dead just now. By the way, Young Master, what do you want to know? You’ve passed my test. Ask me anything and I’ll tell you, but first, you have to take me in!”
Even severely wounded, Gu Chengxue flirted with Ling Huan, sending kisses and winks his way.
“Take…? Take in…? What do you mean?”
Jiang Yue instantly stood in front of Ling Huan, using her terrifying presence to shatter the “hidden weapons” of winks and kisses sent her way.
“Ah, old woman, don’t block my view of Young Master. It’s just as it sounds—make me your wife, lover, bedmaid, **, dog, whatever you want. Plaything or sandbag, up to Young Master. I only have one request.”
Even lying pitifully on the ground, Gu Chengxue spoke like a negotiator, not a bargaining chip.
“I can only belong to Young Master. Do whatever you want with me, I don’t care. You’re the first person I’ve ever recognized. I acknowledge your potential. To show my sincerity, I’ll tell you my reason for coming to Qīngmù City—it’s the Spirit Mine.”
Spirit Mine?
Jiang Yue was the most shocked.
She immediately barked, “Nonsense! If there were a Spirit Mine deep underground, how could the spiritual energy here—”
Mid-sentence, Jiang Yue’s expression faltered, clearly realizing something.
“That’s right, old sir~ Seems you’ve figured it out.A place where a Spirit Mine is born must be where spiritual energy converges.But the entire cultivation world’s spiritual energy has already been blanketed by a massive formation, forcibly gathered in Central State.”
“Outside Central State, spiritual energy is sparse, so Spirit Mines can’t form. But if this place already had one, sealed away, and now spiritual energy is thin, then it’s no surprise the mine hidden beneath this land has gone undetected until now.”
“Nonsense!”
Jiang Yue rebuked, “You just want Young Master to—”
“Then why did the Nascent Soul who took Young Master as a disciple come to such a remote place? He must have had a purpose.Though nothing is confirmed yet about Qīngmù City, it’s only a matter of time.”
Hehe, I made that up.
Ling Huan secretly laughed.
By accident, he’d overheard a major secret… No wonder the system wanted him to bring this crazy woman under his wing—she had such crucial intelligence?
If what she said was true, and there really was a rich Spirit Mine beneath Qīngmù City, then it would become the battleground of all the sects…
“But that alone isn’t enough to make people believe you. If a single Nascent Soul wandering here is strong evidence, then couldn’t this also be a feng shui treasure capable of breaking the seal? It’s just your word.”
“Of course, that’s not all. That’s just bonus information~ So, Young Master, will you take me in? Of course, if you beat me to death, I have no objections either. Who hasn’t died since ancient times?”
“But just imagining Young Master sending me off with your own hands, using your fists on my body, gets me so excited~”
[Warning, please complete the task, Host.]
It was as if Gu Chengxue was the system’s own daughter, forcing Ling Huan to make a choice.
Overall, since Yan Qing and Ninth Brother hadn’t been harmed by Gu Chengxue, Ling Huan wasn’t that angry anymore.
Though she’d tried to take his life, after his own brutal beating, the resentment had mostly dispersed.
Still, he felt a bit uneasy.
After all, keeping a lunatic like this as a subordinate—who knew when she’d drag you into something catastrophic.
“Is Young Master worried I’m some whore who’ll sleep with anyone? No need. Before meeting Young Master, I always disguised myself as a man—no one knew I was female.”
“Right now, only Young Master has seen my true face. My first time is also yours. If you don’t believe me, you can check my maiden’s mark—it’s still there!”
“I don’t care about that.”
Ling Huan stepped out from behind Jiang Yue.
“I want to know, why are you so eager to sell yourself?”
“I can’t say that. But I can offer Young Master a copy of the ‘Ancient Pact of Taixu,’ as—”
“Are you from the Stargazing Hall or the Hidden Court?”
Jiang Yue suddenly blurted out.
For the first time, Gu Chengxue’s smile froze as she snapped her gaze to Jiang Yue.
“Young Master, you can’t trust this woman.”
Jiang Yue sneered, “I thought it was something else, but it turns out to be that filthy organization.”
“Filthy? Teacher, what’s going on?”
“This woman’s organization doesn’t have a specific name. It’s a coalition of lunatics who want the world in chaos. They believe—‘Feeding on obsession, mocking the Dao of Heaven, all living beings suffer, only then can truth be seen.’”
Jiang Yue then gave Ling Huan a detailed explanation.
Orthodox cultivators sought “transcendence” and “freedom.”
But these people went against the grain, believing that only by immersing themselves in extreme love and hate, suspicion, betrayal, despair—the obsessions of the mortal world—could they touch the cruel truth of the Dao.
They called themselves “Obsessive Cultivators” or “Appraisers.”
Their cultivation was extremely bizarre; they didn’t rely on spiritual energy, but instead absorbed intense “karmic force” and “emotions” to grow.
For example, they might orchestrate or guide the massacre of an entire family; the amassed hatred and grief at the site would be, to them, a feng shui treasure and a place of spiritual convergence.
They had no name, but the world had many for them out of fear: “Maidens of Forgetting River,” “Threads of Chaos,” “Heart-Demon’s Bane.”
A thousand years ago, they caused countless disturbances.
First was the “Heart’s Dao, Sowing Demon” case: a rising star of the cultivation world, tipped to withstand a hundred heavenly tribulations and reach ascension, who reached Nascent Soul in only two hundred and thirty-two years, encountered a “perfect” chance meeting orchestrated by these women.
In the end, they led this genius astray, onto the path of evil, killing his entire sect and destroying an eight-thousand-year legacy.
Not only that, they incited him to kill countless other talents, creating a devastating gap in the cultivation world.
Today’s Nascent Souls were once the bottom rung of the previous generation.
As a result, the world of cultivation grew ever more withered.
And this was only one of countless cases, albeit the most severe.
“That’s not true!”
Gu Chengxue suddenly looked up, all her careless, flippant bravado wiped away, replaced by indignation and frustration.
“We’re not like that! It was that person—”
But midway, Gu Chengxue bit her tongue.
She nearly forgot—nothing she said now mattered.
They had a name: “Siming Pavilion.”
They weren’t lunatics, but guides.
They were the last inheritors of the ancient “Seer” bloodline.
Their founder once glimpsed a “Heavenly Omen”: every thousand years, a “Cataclysmic Tide” would sweep the world.
Only by finding the “Child of Tribulation” and guiding them onto the right path could the world survive and embrace the light.
But the “Dragon-Seeking, Fate-Appraising” art passed down was flawed—it could identify those with great fortune, but not tell if that fortune was to save the world or doom it.
Since they couldn’t tell, they would forge one.
They believed “real gold must be tempered by fire,” that only by putting candidates through extreme, brutal tests could they be honed and awakened as true guides.
They were convinced they were the only ones truly awake, burdened by a misunderstood, heavy destiny.
But not everyone was worthy of guiding the world.
If they fell, broke, or lost their minds, then so be it.
Yet the world repeatedly blamed them for every disaster.
In the eyes of the world, they were “witches of chaos,” “sources of disaster.”
Their arrival always heralded the fall of dynasties, sect wars, and rivers of blood.
But that was all fate!
They were hunted, slaughtered, misunderstood, yet their leader still believed the world could be saved.
Save it?
With what?
Watching loved ones die under slander, watching friends hacked to death.
They’d done nothing wrong!
They hadn’t even started!
Save them?
They didn’t want to be saved—they’d rather be boiled like frogs in warm water!
Then why bother saving them?
Why not help the world die?
Since the Siming Pavilion was always seeking the Child of Tribulation, she would seek the Harbinger of Disaster!
“Heh, what’s wrong? Nothing left to say?” Jiang Yue snorted, turning to Ling Huan.
“Young Master, never sign any contract with her. While she’ll certainly obey you after that, and never harm you, She’ll still drag you into endless trouble, and she can still lead you astray, turning you into something neither man nor ghost.”
Very soon, Gu Chengxue lifted her head again, her manic smile returning, “Yes~ Young Master, that’s right, we’re just like that. We’re bad people, the baddest sort who want the world in chaos~”
Ling Huan knew that smile well—that forced, self-destructive smile.
He knew it too well.
He had seen that same smile in the mirror before his own despairing death.
He thought he was smiling, but it looked so pathetic, so laughable.
Ling Huan stepped forward, crouching in front of Gu Chengxue, and gently said, “How do we make the contract?”
“Young Master!” Jiang Yue cried out, and just as she took a step forward, a wave of purple light surged out, wrapping Ling Huan and Gu Chengxue together!
“As long as you wish it, it is done.”
Gu Chengxue’s voice was cold and sly.
“How about that~ Young Master, surprised? The contract is that simple. And it’s a double-sided contract—I can fulfill any wish of yours, but you must fulfill one wish of mine too! If you break it, your soul will scatter! No reincarnation, ever!”
Ling Huan felt as if something new had appeared within his heart.
In the swirling purple glow, he saw a faint thread stretch from his own heart to Gu Chengxue’s, sinking into her chest.
Gu Chengxue watched Ling Huan’s face, her smile gradually freezing and fading.
Because she saw no fear, no anger, no hatred in Ling Huan’s eyes—what replaced them was… was… what?
She didn’t understand that emotion, couldn’t comprehend that gaze.
It was so unfamiliar.
“Is that so? Then I just happen to have an order.”
Ling Huan spoke softly.
“Please, Young Master~ Whether it’s sharing your bed or taking a beating, anything!”
“What have you been through?”
That order… stunned Gu Chengxue.
What was this?
Why did he care?
Didn’t the old woman already explain it?
So clearly.
It’s in the books, too.
Besides, why care about her experiences?
Shouldn’t he want the truth?
Her organization?
Her purpose?
Why she was so fixated on him?
Gu Chengxue was filled with confusion.
Gu Chengxue could see through Ling Huan’s heart, but wasn’t the reverse true now as well?
Maybe not before, but now, Gu Chengxue’s heart was as open as her body.
“What have you been through?”
I—I haven’t! I haven’t been through anything.
I’m just bad, I just want chaos.
But what came out of her mouth was: “I have no home anymore.”
“Why?”
I don’t need one!
The world will end anyway—home or not, it’s all the same!
“They… were all killed, just because we were Siming Pavilion’s inheritors. We did nothing, just wanted to be ordinary people… but they wouldn’t listen, and the Pavilion didn’t save us, even called us traitors.”
Good!
The Pavilion didn’t save us—good!
I don’t need a home! I don’t!
I don’t need anyone to listen—I—
“I don’t know how to live anymore… I… I have no home… so I want to destroy everything, I’m not afraid to die.”
Gu Chengxue’s tears trickled down, the shimmering drops scattering in the misty purple glow.
She lay prone on the ground, limbs dislocated, unable to wipe her tears away.
She wanted to bury her face in the dirt, letting the earth and straw soak up her sorrow.
But a pair of hands cupped her cheeks and gently pulled her into a warm embrace.
In that instant, the tiny warmth shattered all her defenses.
Her tears, pent up for so long, burst forth.
The sound of her sobbing could no longer be suppressed.
It had been so, so long since anyone cared for her.
She relished pain and hardship—because that was all she had.
“Gu Chengxue, what an awful name. From now on, you’re my little brother. No matter what, you have to listen to me.”
Gu Chengxue wasn’t surprised by this result; she’d long been prepared.
“Yes… Young Master.”
“Then get ready for my second order. I’ve already decided.”
Gu Chengxue turned, raising her head to await her first command in this new life, in this ugly, battered state.
Aren’t men all like this?
After disguising as a man for so many years, she thought most were.
But…
Ling Huan gently stroked Gu Chengxue’s hair, speaking softly, “From now on, in public you’ll be called Lingxue, in private, Gu Chengxue.”
“…What does that mean?”
“What does it mean? It’s simple.”
Ling Huan hadn’t wanted to bother with all this, but the system wouldn’t allow otherwise, so he had to play the bad guy.
“Don’t you understand?”
Ling Huan lowered his head to meet her eyes.
“Your name is stripped away. Your past is thrown out.From now on, you’re Lingxue.Your enemies are my enemies. My goals are your goals.Just wait—you’ll always be my servant, my dog.You’ll serve me your whole life.”
So that’s it… Gu Chengxue smiled inside, but before she could speak, Ling Huan added one last line that rendered her speechless.
“And also my family.”
The tears that had just stopped broke loose again.
No longer able to weep silently, Gu—no, Lingxue—burst out sobbing.
In the embrace of this young lord, so much younger than herself, she cried her heart out.
She didn’t notice as the swirling purple glow turned pink—the legendary color of fate.
It was the color Siming Pavilion had sought for tens of thousands of years.
She only cried, letting out all the sorrow of her twenty-eight years of wandering at life’s edge.