Chapter 7

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Chapter 7: Title

Linglong Pavilion had ninety-nine layers, each containing thirty-six steps. With every step, the pressure intensified. Four Hundred Years Ago, even that swordsmanship genius from Sanqing Realm had barely passed the eightieth layer.

Lu Ciyou strained to lift her leg onto the next step. Beads of sweat rolled down her temples as coppery blood rose relentlessly in her throat.

Several steps below, Jiang Xinian wheezed violently, veins bulging across his pressure-twisted body until his blood seemed ready to reverse flow.

He retreated two steps and collapsed onto the stairs, unable to advance further.

The pressure eased immediately. He looked up to see Lu Ciyou still climbing.

"Hey," he called between gasps, "what’s even up there? Why torture yourself?"

His words shattered Lu Ciyou’s gathered focus. She turned, eyes blazing. "Quiet!"

"If Xia Wuwei reached the eightieth, I’ll conquer the eighty-first!"

Jiang Xinian watched her trembling form. "…This is only the thirtieth layer."

They hadn’t even glimpsed the thirty-first’s threshold. Forcing further might crush both spiritual sense and consciousness.

Lu Ciyou’s glare could pierce stone.

Jiang Xinian shrugged and slid down several steps. He’d reached his limit.

At the next layer’s base, pressure slammed into Lu Ciyou like a hammer. Stars danced in her vision as blood flooded her mouth.

"Young lady!" Jiang Xinian shouted from below. "Come down! No one can save you up there – such a waste to die young!"

Lu Ciyou steadied her swimming head, staring at the endless staircase. Her lips whitened under pressure.

She refused to yield.

Lingyang Jun truly lived up to his ascended immortal status – even posthumous pressure from his Purple Mansion Secret Realm remained this overwhelming. Jiang Xinian massaged his temples, spiritual sense still throbbing despite resting.

A crimson flicker in his peripheral vision made him sit upright. Lu Ciyou was storming downstairs.

"Giving up?" he called.

Her earlier boasts about the eighty-first layer evaporated faster than morning dew.

So much for Liujin Pavilion’s prized young lady.

They descended single-file, nearly colliding with a climbing man.

Ordinary features. Common Long Sword. Yet he ascended effortlessly, pressure nonexistent.

Lu Ciyou stared. Past the twentieth layer, climbers vanished. Beyond twenty-fifth, only Jiang Xinian had trailed her.

Mid-stage Golden Core cultivation paired with Heavenly Spirit Body – this barely got her to thirty. Yet this man…

Either his talent dwarfed Heavenly Spirit Body, or his cultivation level breached Spirit Severing Realm.

"Fellow Immortal!" Her voice cracked. "Wait!"

The man didn’t stop, as if deaf to her words, and kept climbing upward.

"Hey! Stop!" Lu Ciyou had been raised with a golden spoon. No one in Liujin Pavilion dared disobey her, and outsiders avoided disrespect under the pavilion’s influence. Enraged by this first-ever dismissal and breathless from the stairs’ oppressive force, she thrust her Soaring Dragon spear forward with a metallic hum.

Jiang Xinian’s eyelids twitched. The young lady’s temper was too fierce—she’d attack anyone who ignored her.

The spear froze a foot behind the man’s back, halted by an invisible force.

Lu Ciyou gaped, then yanked backward with all her strength. The Soaring Dragon remained motionless.

“Ah—the Liujin Pavilion brat. For an old friend’s sake, I’ll teach you a lesson.” The man tilted sideways. His sword stayed sheathed, yet a wave of soft sword energy hurled both youths downward.

This was the signature strike of a sword immortal.

Lu Ciyou and Jiang Xinian crashed from the thirtieth floor to the first, blood spilling from their lips.

Jiang Xinian scrambled up, coughing as he squinted at Linglong Pavilion’s dizzying heights. A lone figure kept ascending—far beyond the sixtieth floor now.

Goosebumps prickled his arms. “Lu Ciyou! You nearly got us killed!”

She spat crimson foam and hefted her spear anew.

“You’re insane!” Jiang Xinian nearly rolled his eyes skyward. He’d find Liu Sheng and leave—no lingering in this vipers’ nest.

On the fifth floor, they found Wen Zhishu and Liu Sheng crouched in a corner.

Lu Ciyou pivoted toward them. “What’re you doing here?”

Her scan revealed no Xia Shi, but clusters of rogue cultivators lurked nearby, stealing glances.

Wen Zhishu rose with a polite bow. “Miss Lu.”

“Explain.” Lu Ciyou’s voice carried. Several cultivators shifted uncomfortably.

Liujin Pavilion wasn’t just a top sect—the Xiao family’s commerce empire spanned the Nine Realms. Wise men angered other sects before crossing Liujin, whose wealth could strangle any traveler’s funds. Especially rogue cultivators’.

“Xia Shi and Suiyin stumbled into the black box’s formation. Young Master Liu joined my vigil.” Wen Zhishu gestured at the gathering crowd, her Jiangnan-lilted words honey-smooth. “The fifth floor’s popularity surprises me.”

*Clang!*

Lu Ciyou slammed down her spear and sat cross-legged, chin jutted defiantly at the clusters.

Fifth-floor treasures couldn’t draw this mob. The blood sandalwood box’s contents outvalued the wood itself—untouched for years because the formation killed all who tried.

If Xia Shi and Suiyin emerged wounded after breaking the seal, these vultures would swarm.

Lu Ciyou’s gaze sharpened. Four late Golden Core cultivators. One whose power she couldn’t gauge. Even Soaring Dragon couldn’t stop them all.

“Jiang Xinian.”

His eyebrow spasmed. “What now?”

The young lady never summoned him for good news.

“Since we’re all friends, let’s wait for them together. What do you think?” Lu Ciyou spoke, her gaze landing on a handsome young man who sat casually with lowered eyelids, toying with a short blade.

He wore a blue robe with black patterns, sitting alone amidst scattered groups of rogue cultivators. His presence stood out like a lone pine in a brushwood forest.

Lu Ciyou couldn’t discern his cultivation level at all.

The clever Liu Sheng had already explained the situation to Jiang Xinian. After brief hesitation, Jiang Xinian sat down decisively, his Shenwu Sword placed ready at hand.

“Good.”

Within moments, half the cultivators had fled the fifth floor. Who’d risk angering both Canghai’s young master and Liujin Pavilion’s young lady?

The man remained. Another blade appeared between his fingers.

Lu Ciyou snorted, producing numerous bottles from her storage ring.

“What’s that?” Jiang Xinian eyed the containers.

“Yangyuan Pills. Ningqi Powder. Baicao Dew. Celestial Maidens…”

Top-grade medicines. Rumors claimed a single Celestial Maiden could heal meridians and boost cultivation temporarily – each pill worth a king’s ransom. Yet this young lady carried a full bottle!

Jiang Xinian clicked his tongue, fighting the urge to stare at the priceless pills. “Why take these out?”

Lu Ciyou kept her eyes fixed on the blade-wielding man across from them.

Her cultivation might be inferior, but her spirit herbs were plentiful. Enough to exhaust any opponent.

Song Chen’s fingers stilled on his blades. A soft chuckle escaped him.

These sect youths were truly dull-witted.

Each cultivation level spanned vast differences no elixir could bridge.

Naïve.

His slanted eyes flicked toward the people behind Lu Ciyou before sliding away indifferently.

Within the formation,

Xia Shi frowned at the eight Water Mirrors encircling her. An illusion formation – forcing confrontation with buried memories.

But why only her?

She’d entered with Suiyin, yet all eight mirrors focused solely on her.

Suiyin stood separated by the mirrors. When she touched one’s surface, spiritual power stung her hand.

Rubbing the reddened skin, Suiyin muttered, “So vicious.”

Concerned despite the barrier, she called out, “Xia Shi? What’s happening?”

No answer came. Xia Shi had already been pulled into the illusion.

“Why choose ‘Wuqing’? Such an awful name.” The feminine voice whispered beside her ear.

Young Xia Wuwei smiled as she polished her sword. “They say the Heavenly Dao is heartless. With this blade, I’ll demand answers from heaven itself.”

The Heartless Sword trembled in her hand resentfully: "But I’m not heartless. I know my own likes and dislikes."

"It’s just a name. They call me Xia Wuwei – does that mean I’m purposeless? I won the Immortal Sect competition. No one surpasses my swordsmanship." Xia Wuwei’s eyes shone brightly as she leaped onto the frost-covered pool, casually demonstrating sword moves through the swirling mists of cold air.

"One day I’ll take you beyond the Nine Realms to see the fabled lands of immortals."

Xia Shi stood beneath the corridor eaves, coldly watching the sword-dancing young man. The grand ambitions of her youth had long since faded.

Challenging the Heavenly Dao with a sword? Pure nonsense.

The snowfall intensified, gradually obscuring both the swordsman’s figure on the frozen pool and her own presence.

Xia Shi turned and walked forward, meeting someone.

"Xia Wuwei, you’ll surely pass your tribulation. Have you chosen your location?"

Cultivators never revealed their true tribulation sites except to trusted companions.

Xia Shi’s brow furrowed. Half her former friends lay dead in Qinghu Region, the rest likely despised her now.

She didn’t recognize this figure. Xia Shi stepped closer, but the person’s face remained veiled in mist.

"Dark Domain," her own voice answered.

Xia Shi’s pupils contracted. Dark Domain!? Wasn’t her tribulation supposed to be in Qinghu Region!?

That disastrous tribulation in Qinghu had caused everything.

Her mind reeled. Illusion arrays couldn’t fabricate unexperienced events – the snowy sword practice was real, that ridiculous Heavenly Dao challenge was real, therefore this stranger’s words must be true.

Had her tribulation actually been in Dark Domain?

Who was this woman? Why did she trust her?

A blade’s energy surged toward her, shimmering with familiar golden spiritual power.

Her own power.

The Heartless Sword pierced her chest. Agony nearly shattered her consciousness as blood stained the hair ribbon touching her lips.

Looking up through pain, she saw the faceless woman holding the sword.

Strange phrases echoed around her:

"Xia Wuwei! So glad we met!"

"Xia Wuwei! My only friend!"

"Xia Wuwei! Why must you excel? Why does everyone adore you…"

"Xia Wuwei! I hate you!"

"Xia Wuwei! Die!"

Four Hundred Years of cultivated tranquility nearly shattered under this onslaught of disgust and anger.

Who was this!?