Boom! Rumble!—
Dark clouds pressed down from the sky, closing in on Feng Qingran.
The seventeenth Heart-Questioning Lightning bolt struck down.
Feng Qingran’s expression changed drastically, and an aura of profound coldness emanated from her entire body.
She saw the images again, the ones she had seen during the Golden Core tribulation.
And this time, there was even more…
These images weren’t tinged with blood-red, but were a grayish-white.
In the images, she was denounced by all, everyone looked at her with disgust in their eyes.
Wherever she went, people hounded her. She desperately tried to explain something…
But not a single person believed her words!
Dejected and crestfallen, she chose to distance herself from everyone. At that moment, they wouldn’t let her leave.
They captured her and subjected her to cruel torture…
Finally, the scenes shifted rapidly. She was thrown onto a snowy ground, her limbs all broken…
On the snowy ground, there was also a tall, straight figure with its back to her, exuding an aura of aloof and proud solitude.
She struggled frantically, trying to explain something to that person…
Feng Qingran couldn’t help but clench her fists. Why be so abject?
No!
She couldn’t be like that!
That was the fate of the original Feng Qingran from the book…
But something still felt off. Those experiences felt as if she had lived through them herself.
These images definitely weren’t something she had conjured up.
They seemed deeply etched into her mind…
Feng Qingran formed a bold conjecture: perhaps she was truly a person from within this book!
It was just that for some unknown reason, she had awakened her consciousness and was no longer controlled by the book’s plot.
Was she… reborn?
Crack!—
Feng Qingran suddenly felt as if shackles within her body had been broken…
A flood of unfamiliar memories instantly surged into her sea of consciousness.
A gentle and serene mother… a woman with a hateful face… Little Ox Brother… escaping the village on her eleventh birthday…
Then meeting Su Yanran at the Sect Assembly… entering the Heavenly Sword Sect…
Later, after losing her usefulness, dying in the back mountains of the Heavenly Sword Sect…
After death, her soul, filled with resentment, drifted everywhere… followed by a vast expanse of a white, blank world.
But that still wasn’t right!
If she was reborn, how did she know she lived in a book?
So, she wasn’t just reborn; it was also possible she was a transmigrator into the book?
For a moment, Feng Qingran’s thoughts were in turmoil, her qi unstable. Inner demons began to stir again…
Feng Qingran abruptly came to her senses.
Whether she was a transmigrator or reborn, her primary task was to become strong.
Strong enough that no one could rival her!
Strong enough to cover the sky with a single hand!
At that time, the truth would inevitably come to light!
Feng Qingran steadied her mind and spirit, withstanding the eighteenth tribulation lightning bolt.
She didn’t move, entering a cultivation state once more. The power of eighteen tribulation lightning bolts couldn’t be wasted.
While Feng Qingran refined the lightning power, a hint of purple faintly appeared on the Nascent Soul in her dantian.
By the time Feng Qingran stabilized her realm and opened her eyes again, three months had passed.
She looked towards the foot of the mountain, where a young master in dark robes stood.
Feng Qingran stood up, performed a cleansing technique, and her entire body was instantly refreshed.
She rode her sword down, arriving before Mo Jinghong.
“Seventh Senior Brother, sorry to keep you waiting.” Feng Qingran’s eyes sparkled like stars, crescents that seemed to overflow with spiritual essence. Her features had become even more strikingly beautiful and ethereal.
“It wasn’t long.” A warm gleam flashed in Mo Jinghong’s dark starry eyes, and his crimson lips curved slightly.
“Seventh Senior Brother, what stage are you at now?” Feng Qingran’s apricot-shaped eyes shone brightly. She always felt Mo Jinghong’s aura had grown even more steady.
“Late Soul Transformation stage,” Mo Jinghong said casually.
“Holy—! Seventh Senior Brother, you’re practically not hu— Ow… why hit me?!” Feng Qingran pouted, rubbing her forehead. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, were clear and bright.
Mo Jinghong chuckled softly. “No swearing. You’re the one who’s practically not human, advancing to Nascent Soul in just three years.”
Feng Qingran: …
Wasn’t he the one who said no cursing?
“Seventh Senior Brother, how long until the selection competition?”
“Eight more months,” Mo Jinghong said quietly.
“Has Master signed us up yet?” Feng Qingran’s eyes widened. Only eight months left?
She still had so many things to do!
“I imagine he hasn’t,” a faint light flickered in Mo Jinghong’s dark eyes.
“Then let’s go find Master quickly.”
————————
The two rode their swords to Inquiry Peak.
As soon as they entered the mountain, the scent of wine wafted towards them.
Feng Qingran’s mouth twitched. How much had Master been drinking?
Thud!—
A sound came from the distance.
Feng Qingran looked in the direction of the sound and saw Ye Wentian fall from a tree.
Then, Ye Wentian simply rolled over and continued sleeping.
Feng Qingran: …
She remembered when she first met Ye Wentian; he was also reeking of alcohol and looked half-asleep.
“Master, Master… wake up!” Feng Qingran walked over to Ye Wentian and called out several times, but got no response.
Ye Wentian hugged his gourd, turned over with his back to Feng Qingran, and started snoring.
“One jar of Taibai Immortal Brew…” Mo Jinghong’s words hadn’t even finished.
Ye Wentian scrambled to his feet, swaying drunkenly. “Where? Where?! Where’s the Taibai Immortal Brew?”
Feng Qingran rolled her eyes. Here they were, two such large people, and Master completely ignored them, eyes closed as he searched for wine.
“Master, the wine is with me. I need you to trade it for the Sect Leader’s Token…”
As soon as Feng Qingran finished speaking, a token flew into her hand.
Then a large hand stretched out in front of her, mumbling, “Wine… give it…”
With a flick of his sleeve, Mo Jinghong sent a jar of wine into Ye Wentian’s hand. Once he had the jar, Ye Wentian hugged it to his chest, turned, and walked away.
Ye Wentian perfectly demonstrated:
Disciples?
What disciples?
He couldn’t see them!
