Chapter 1: A Fresh Start

When Shi Luoyi opened her eyes, the snow had already fallen all night on Mingyou Immortal Mountain.

She vaguely remembered that she had died—in the twenty-third year of Zhaohua, alone in a dilapidated temple in the mortal realm. No one had come to collect her body. She had died in the middle of summer, when the world was at its most beautiful. The pond in the broken temple had been filled with blooming lotus flowers.

The rose-tinted sky stretched endlessly, meeting the vast expanse of lotus leaves.

Perhaps it was the beauty of the season that made her remember catching a whiff of fresh lotus fragrance just before she closed her eyes.

Shi Luoyi didn’t feel much pain in death. In fact, she felt a sense of liberation and relief. Finally, she could rest, no longer trapped by the resentment and frustration that had consumed her heart.

But now… what was going on?

Her entire body ached with cold, and she couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. Her hands and feet were numb from the freezing temperatures, and the snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes blurred her vision.

Yet Shi Luoyi knew that if she were truly dead, she wouldn’t feel the cold—only the emptiness of a soul dissolving into nothingness. Besides, it was absurd. It was July now, and how could it possibly snow in July?

Through the haze, she saw a group of blurry figures.

The people around her whispered among themselves. A young girl, her small hands warm, wiped the snow from her eyelashes and threw herself into her arms, crying like pear blossoms drenched in rain.

“Big Sister, it’s all my fault! If I hadn’t angered you yesterday, you wouldn’t have left Mingyou Mountain and encountered that ferocious beast Chilis. You nearly lost your life because of me…”

The scene felt strangely familiar to Shi Luoyi. She blinked in confusion, her vision clearing as she finally took in the crowd. Her gaze swept over their long robes, embroidered with cloud patterns, and then over the familiar, youthful faces. Suddenly, she recalled why this moment felt so familiar.

This scene… it was something that had happened sixty years ago!

At that time, her junior sister Bian Qingxuan had picked a hundred-year-old peony from her backyard garden. Enraged, Shi Luoyi had lashed out at her.

Bian Qingxuan hadn’t fought back; she only cried and apologized.

Just as Shi Luoyi’s spell was about to strike Bian Qingxuan, a man rushed in and stopped her, deflecting the spell with a single palm strike that sent her flying.

The man was her senior brother, Wei Changyuan.

In his haste, Wei Changyuan hadn’t held back, and she crashed into a rock formation, hitting her head and bleeding profusely.

The wound itself wasn’t severe, but the heartbreak she felt was crushing. Her beloved had protected another woman and injured her in the process. The pride in her heart shattered, leaving behind a deep ache that almost stopped her heart from beating.

Holding back her tears and anger, she ignored Wei Changyuan’s concerned expression and stormed down Mingyou Mountain, fleeing the sect. In her daze, she encountered the ferocious beast Chilis.

Thanks to years of painstaking cultivation, she managed to fight the beast and extract its inner core, narrowly surviving. But she was gravely injured, unable to move even a finger, and collapsed on the ground, too weak to resist as the snow buried her alive.

She lay under the snow for an entire night, feeling both pain and humiliation. The next day, her fellow disciples found her, pulling her from the snow. Her frozen lips couldn’t form words as Bian Qingxuan rushed over, sobbing pitifully.

Then, everyone scolded her for being reckless, running off during such dangerous times and forcing the entire sect to search for her.

If she remembered correctly, her beloved senior brother had spoken up then as well.

Shi Luoyi still remembered his harsh words of reproach. Sure enough, as she recalled this, she heard the low, cold voice of a man—

“Luoyi, you’ve been far too reckless. Over a flower, you attacked your junior sister, then left the mountain without permission, disobeying orders. These past few years, your behavior has become increasingly unacceptable. If Master Shihuan emerges from seclusion and sees you like this, he will be utterly disappointed.”

Yes, their tolerance of her now, their willingness to search for her with all their might—it was all because she had a father who was on the verge of ascending to godhood as a Great Elder.

Otherwise, given how much her peers despised her, they would have gladly let her die outside.

Her father, Shihuan, was revered as the “Yuanxin Daojun,” and she was his only daughter, cherished beyond measure. Ten years ago, while eradicating demons, he had suffered grave injuries and fallen into a deep slumber. From that point on, her life had changed completely.

Perhaps her misfortune hadn’t begun then but had worsened later, after Junior Sister Bian Qingxuan joined the sect.

Her gaze fell on the young girl in her arms.

The girl looked to be around sixteen or seventeen, with large, tearful eyes that gazed at her with apparent sincerity and concern.

But Shi Luoyi didn’t feel moved—only nauseated.

The junior sister’s name was Bian Qingxuan, and she had only been in the sect for three years.

Her fate was extraordinary. On the day the celestial gates opened, countless mortals sought to join the path of immortality. But when Bian Qingxuan appeared, the seven stars in the sky shone with strange colors, hinting at dragon qi. The elders of the Celestial Fate Pavilion stared wide-eyed and personally divined her destiny, declaring her the “Fated Child,” someone of unparalleled fortune.

How lucky was the Fated Child? While other mortals who entered the sect might take three to five years to establish a foundation and decades to form a golden core, Bian Qingxuan established her foundation within a year, reached full foundation mastery in the second year, and formed a golden core by the third.

In contrast, despite being born with innate divine potential, Shi Luoyi had worked tirelessly for thirty-nine years just to form her golden core!

Whenever Bian Qingxuan participated in sect missions, everyone returned with bountiful rewards. Even walking down the road, she might stumble upon rare herbs.

But whenever Shi Luoyi joined them, their luck seemed cursed. Not only did they return empty-handed, but they often encountered ferocious beasts.

At first, people only dared to complain in secret. To avoid awkwardness during missions, they began sneaking out at night, deliberately leaving Shi Luoyi behind. Eventually, their complaints turned into veiled insults and sarcastic remarks.

Shi Luoyi, proud as she was—the daughter of a powerful elder, once the apple of her parents’ eyes—felt both humiliated and unwilling to burden her peers. From then on, she started taking missions alone. Though perilous, at least she no longer had to endure their cold stares and judgmental whispers.

At first, she didn’t dislike Bian Qingxuan. Though her junior sister’s talent had made her envious, Shi Luoyi had grown up pampered and privileged. Once she adjusted her mindset, she stopped feeling jealous.

But gradually, things changed. Her beloved senior sister, her fiancé Wei Changyuan, and even the sect leader—who was like a brother to her father—all began reprimanding her for Bian Qingxuan’s sake. She felt wronged and confused. Then she noticed that Wei Changyuan was growing gentler toward Bian Qingxuan, while her peers secretly ostracized her. Her instincts told her this was all connected to Bian Qingxuan. Finally, Shi Luoyi came to despise this junior sister who had taken everything from her!

She trained hard, determined to surpass Bian Qingxuan. But in the decades that followed, Bian Qingxuan seemed unstoppable, advancing rapidly in cultivation as if blessed by fate. Even while sleeping, her power grew.

Within twenty years, Bian Qingxuan achieved the infant soul stage and kept breaking through barriers. Meanwhile, Shi Luoyi, despite pushing herself to the brink of madness, barely managed to reach the same stage by the time she died. By then, Bian Qingxuan had already advanced to the early stage of soul division, her innocent face masking her extraordinary progress.

Shi Luoyi traveled through countless secret realms, striving to prove that she too could seize opportunities and wasn’t the jinx everyone claimed her to be. But fighting alone was difficult. Time and again, she returned injured, battered, and exhausted. Her rewards paled in comparison to Bian Qingxuan’s effortless gains—even tripping and finding a rare blood lingzhi.

How could she accept this? Shi Luoyi’s mental state deteriorated.

She chased relentlessly, desperate to prove that she could surpass Bian Qingxuan in at least one aspect. But fate seemed determined to oppose her. Gradually, her reputation worsened.

At some point, the kind, beautiful, and loving Senior Sister Luoyi became known as arrogant, cruel, selfish, and petty.

Even the children of the sect looked at her with disdain.

Eventually, consumed by inner demons, she lost consciousness one day and woke to find several of her peers dead at her feet.

Panicking, Shi Luoyi fled the mountain, too afraid to return to the sect. The righteous factions issued a bounty for her capture. She hid in the mortal world, where she eventually died alone in a ruined temple.

Until her last breath, she never understood where her life had gone wrong.

Why had her earlier years been filled with love and affection, with her senior sisters pinching her nose playfully, drinking and singing with her, and her senior brothers blushing as they gave her gifts and competed to take her on adventures? Wei Changyuan had once commissioned the finest celestial silk to make her a scarf and secretly prepared betrothal gifts for her…

Why, in the blink of an eye—a mere few decades in the eyes of cultivators—had she gone from flourishing to withering, dying with nothing but scorn and curses?

Filled with bitterness, regret, and jealousy, she coughed up a mouthful of blood and gazed at the magnificent sky, knowing her end was near. Through her haze, she thought of her father, still in seclusion and gravely injured.

Would he wake up? And if he learned that his only daughter had died exposed in the wild, would his heart shatter completely?

Why had she worked so hard for half her life, obeyed her father’s teachings, cared for her fellow disciples, and pitied the common people, only to end up hated by everyone, with a bounty on her head?

She thought again of her gentle and tender mother, the scent of lotus flowers filling the air as a beautiful woman embraced her, singing ancient songs from Nanyue.

Shi Luoyi’s dreams grew lighter, and gradually, she closed her eyes…

Never did she expect that when she opened them again, she would be back sixty years in the past—just the third year since Junior Sister Bian Qingxuan had entered the sect!

Looking at the sobbing Bian Qingxuan and the coldly reprimanding Wei Changyuan, she should have felt a surge of disgust and anger. But unexpectedly, Shi Luoyi’s heart was eerily calm.

One person she could never surpass, no matter how hard she tried; one person she could never win over, no matter what.

Having already died once, her mindset had shifted from extreme imbalance to an almost unnerving serenity.

In short, she was numb.

Bian Qingxuan, perhaps deliberately, buried her tear-streaked face into Shi Luoyi’s chest, taking advantage of her inability to push her away, acting willfully and intentionally trying to provoke her.

Shi Luoyi did feel nauseated, but now that she had been reborn, her mind was clear. She understood her current predicament amidst this absurd situation.

Bian Qingxuan seemed intent on provoking her anger to highlight her own timid innocence. Every time Shi Luoyi lashed out, she not only appeared monstrous and ugly but also made Bian Qingxuan seem like an unfairly wronged, pure flower.

Her past life had been like a puppet in Bian Qingxuan’s hands, manipulated at every turn. Shi Luoyi watched her coldly, acknowledging that she wasn’t as skilled at playing the victim as Bian Qingxuan. But from now on, she wouldn’t let Bian Qingxuan have her way so easily.

She had come to terms with it. She decided to lie still, closing her eyes peacefully.

With her eyes shut, she wouldn’t have to see Wei Changyuan.

Wei Changyuan was the youngest direct disciple of the sect leader. Born into nobility, he was beloved by all and widely regarded as the future successor to lead Hengwu Sect.

Shi Luoyi had been betrothed to him since childhood. They grew up together, sharing deep affection. Immortals reached adulthood at the age of a hundred. If her father hadn’t fallen into slumber due to his injuries and if Bian Qingxuan hadn’t joined the sect, Shi Luoyi would have turned adult this year and should have married him.

She had genuinely loved him, and later, she had genuinely hated him. She feared that seeing his face would awaken the bitterness and resentment she had finally managed to suppress, flooding her emotions once again.

She remembered the year she had been most humiliated while on the run. She thought she was going to die.

Wei Changyuan appeared, brandishing his sword before the crowd: “As her senior brother, I will personally execute her!”

The crowd exchanged glances, then dispersed.

But Wei Changyuan didn’t kill her. He healed her wounds and said, “Leave, and don’t come back.” His hand had risen as if to pat her head like he used to when they were children, but he ultimately closed his eyes and lowered his hand, saying nothing.

A snowfall blanketed the mortal world, and their paths crossed without recognition. He remained a lofty immortal, while she had long since fallen into darkness.

That day, Wei Changyuan left silently, leaving behind a qiankun bag filled with healing herbs and protective talismans.

She sat beneath a tree in the forest, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the bag.

She wondered if Wei Changyuan remembered how he had once felt heartache for her, carrying her step by step down a hillside covered in wildflowers. Did he recall cutting the finest celestial fabric to make her clothes, taking responsibility for her childish mistakes, and kneeling to endure punishment on her behalf…

Shi Luoyi thought of many things. In her final moments, she finally let go.

Blinded by jealousy and resentment, she had chased after him like a madwoman her entire life, ending up with nothing. The version of herself she had become was unrecognizable even to her. How could Wei Changyuan possibly love such a person?

Moreover, in life, weren’t there more important things to pursue than a man—destiny, character, family, and cultivation?

Perhaps because Shi Luoyi had closed her eyes and refused to respond, Bian Qingxuan’s crying became meaningless. Under the comforting words of others, she eventually stopped crying, wiping her red, swollen eyes.

The male disciples fawned over Bian Qingxuan, blaming Shi Luoyi for being immature and causing the kind junior sister to worry and blame herself.

Shi Luoyi felt a wave of irritation but also found it utterly pointless.

In the end, her fellow disciples carried her back using magical artifacts.

She knew she must look pathetic. After being frozen overnight, her limbs and face were bruised and purple, her posture stiff and awkward, and her blood-stained robes left her dignity in tatters.

If this were her former self, she would have been overwhelmed with shame and frustration, especially seeing Bian Qingxuan surrounded by seven or eight people consoling her. Jealousy and resentment would have consumed her. But now, she could examine herself with clarity.

At least her foundation wasn’t damaged.

The disciples brought Shi Luoyi back to Mingyou Mountain. Wei Changyuan still had sect duties to attend to. He frowned at her, unwilling to indulge her reckless behavior of putting herself in danger at the slightest disagreement, and turned to leave.

Bian Qingxuan, however, walked over, holding her hand and expressing concern: “Senior Sister, rest well and recover. I’ll visit you in a few days.”

Don’t touch me! Just leave, hurry up and leave!

Mingyou Immortal Mountain was where all the disciples of Hengwu Sect resided. A few years ago, Shi Luoyi had moved out of her father’s residence, Buye Immortal Mountain, and started living with her peers.

The disciples who carried her back showed her no kindness. Seeing that she wasn’t going to die, they dumped her in her room and left without a second glance.

Shi Luoyi stared blankly at the beams of the ceiling. Snow fell heavily outside, but the room offered no warmth. Her throat was dry and aching. After resting for a moment, she saw yesterday’s leftover cold tea on the table. With great effort, she rolled off the bed and stumbled toward the table.

However, sixty years ago, she was still only a golden core cultivator, far weaker than she would become later. Yesterday’s battle with Chilis had left her gravely injured, her bones feeling like they were frozen solid, and every movement brought excruciating pain. Before she could reach the table, she collapsed heavily onto the ground.

If she were her former self, she might have already teared up from the humiliation. But now, having endured much, she was accustomed to licking her wounds. Gasping for breath, she decided to take her time getting up.

A figure had been stealthily observing her from outside. Upon seeing her fall, they rushed in: “Miss, are you alright?”

Shi Luoyi looked at the delicate woman before her. The tears she had been holding back spilled uncontrollably.

The woman was named Huixiang. She adorned her hair with green leaves, clearly not a cultivator but a spirit transformed into human form.

“Miss, let Huixiang help you up. Are you hurt? Do you want some water?”

Shi Luoyi couldn’t utter a word, her throat choked with emotion.

Huixiang was a mountain spirit her mother had found years ago. Back then, she hadn’t yet taken form and was on the brink of death. Daojun, Shi Luoyi’s father, had helped her transform. After recovering, Huixiang stayed to care for the young Shi Luoyi.

Later, when Shi Luoyi was hunted by the sect, Huixiang, fearing she would be found, bravely left the mountain to warn her to escape. She herself was captured and branded a traitor. Locked in a dungeon, she was cruelly used as a furnace vessel by a group of male cultivators and died tragically.

When Shi Luoyi learned of this, tears of blood streamed down her face. She unsheathed her blade, which she hadn’t used in decades, slaughtering countless cultivators and turning rivers red with blood to retrieve Huixiang’s shattered, original form.

From that moment, her eyes turned crimson, and she fully descended into darkness.

Now, given a second chance, Shi Luoyi was most grateful that Huixiang was still alive.

Huixiang helped her drink water and carefully changed her clothes. As she applied medicine, she noticed Shi Luoyi’s red-rimmed eyes and teardrops falling uncontrollably, making her look pitiful. Thinking the young miss was in pain, Huixiang gently patted her back, soothing her as she had done when Shi Luoyi was a child.

“Miss, please bear with it. The Daojun will awaken soon, and then no one will dare to bully you.”

Shi Luoyi could only shake her head silently, unable to speak through her sobs.

Just as Huixiang set down the teacup to say something, the sound of a wheelchair rolling outside interrupted them. A knock followed.

Huixiang knew who it was and sighed inwardly, pitying the boy outside. But seeing Shi Luoyi’s red eyes, she whispered, “Bian Lingyu is here, Miss. Should Huixiang send him away?”

Huixiang’s thinking was simple: if the young miss didn’t see him, neither would he be humiliated, nor would the miss get angry.

Shi Luoyi was momentarily confused, nearly blurting out, “Who is Bian Lingyu?”

Then she remembered. Sixty years ago, Bian Qingxuan had a mortal older brother she cherished deeply—Bian Lingyu.

A quiet, unassuming mortal boy whose existence Shi Luoyi had deliberately erased from her memory.

After sleeping with him out of spite, she had completely forgotten about him—a silent, withdrawn mortal youth.

Bian Qingxuan, the favored child of destiny, had always triumphed over Shi Luoyi effortlessly. Yet toward this boy, she was careful, attentive, and caring. Her devotion to him even made many of the sect’s male disciples jealous.

Shi Luoyi took a deep breath.

Though she had deliberately forgotten him, the memory now came rushing back painfully. She and Bian Qingxuan had fought their entire lives—over cultivation, reputation, and the love of their fiancés. Shi Luoyi had lost everything…

Except once. Just once.

That one victory had felt like trampling Bian Qingxuan’s heart into the ground. At that moment, Bian Qingxuan had nearly fainted, her gaze filled with hatred, wishing to devour her alive!

It was the most satisfying moment in Shi Luoyi’s oppressed life. She had never imagined seeing such an expression on Bian Qingxuan’s face—someone who always seemed to glide effortlessly through life.

Unbelieving, heartbroken, enraged, devastated!

Though Shi Luoyi hadn’t felt entirely comfortable either. Along with the satisfaction came a sharp pain that made her frown.

The pain was real. Hurting the enemy a thousand, she had injured herself eight hundred. But she no longer cared!

Suppressing her discomfort, she deliberately curled her lips into a smirk, looking down at Bian Qingxuan’s distress. It felt invigorating, as if a weight had been lifted. One thought dominated her mind: So, Bian Qingxuan, even you have someone you care about this much?

The boy beneath her neither collapsed in despair like Bian Qingxuan nor acted as crazed and obsessed as she had.

His pupils were black, his eyes like a lifeless, dark pool. With his pale, slender hands, he pulled the blanket over himself. Closing his eyes, he coldly addressed them both:

“Get out.”