The ashes dispersed, gradually revealing a figure on the ground.

A woman stepped gracefully through the moonlight.

Bai Yushuang, just as in a past life, stood before Gu Baiyi and softly asked, “How did you know it was me?”

But times had changed.

Gu Baiyi responded with a faint smile. “Because I know what Senior is looking for, and I also know why you are here.”

“Oh? And what exactly does this little girl think she knows?”

Bai Yushuang’s smile was gentle as she reached for the flute at her waist, her expression calm and unruffled.

“I know you’re looking at me,” Gu Baiyi said.

Bai Yushuang frowned. “Looking at you?”

“No, to be precise... You’re looking through me to see someone else.”

Bai Yushuang fell silent for a long moment.

She truly had been looking at an old acquaintance.

Although Gu Baiyi’s demeanor bore no resemblance to that person, and their features were even less similar, the way she wiped blood from her hands, it was eerily identical.

Gu Baiyi noticed.

When Bai Yushuang first saw her, there had been a barely perceptible tremor in her expression, fleeting yet unmistakable.

In her past life, Gu Baiyi had thought Bai Yushuang was a benefactor of her destiny and had not noticed the oddity in her gaze.

Now she saw it clearly, Bai Yushuang’s expression was far too complex, mingling astonishment, joy, and perhaps... sorrow.

Snapping back to the present, Bai Yushuang’s voice turned cold. “You presume to speculate about me? Do you not know that I could kill you without lifting a finger?”

“Of course, Senior. But the fact remains that you haven’t killed me, have you?”

“That’s only because I don’t want to. Besides, killing you would make things far less interesting.”

Gu Baiyi asked softly, “What would be interesting, then? And what would be dull?”

“You want to know?”

She chuckled.

“I’m all ears,” Gu Baiyi replied with a serene smile.

Bai Yushuang’s lips curved slightly, forming a graceful arc.

Bathed in moonlight, her form was half-illuminated, half-veiled in shadow.

“Let’s hope you won’t regret it, nor disappoint me,” she said lightly.

Clang—

The sound of a sword being drawn split the air.

A cold blade pierced Gu Baiyi’s chest.

Blood trickled from her lips, vivid and crimson, yet she made no move to wipe it away.

Her gaze lowered to the sword, and it stirred memories within her.

In her past life, in the great hall...

After killing Ji Rong, Gu Baiyi had sat on the cold stone steps, her sword in hand, watching petals of red plum blossoms scatter to the ground.

Footsteps echoed faintly from outside the hall, but she had been too weary to turn her head.

Back then, too, the sound of a silver sword being unsheathed had rung out, followed by a blade piercing her shoulder. It might have been this very sword.

Gu Baiyi thought to herself, Bai Yushuang rarely uses a sword, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how.

Now, Bai Yushuang stood, her face devoid of emotion, as Gu Baiyi’s blood splattered from her chest.

Even as the blood flecked Bai Yushuang’s face, she didn’t so much as flinch.

Gu Baiyi’s lashes quivered faintly. She had anticipated this.

The searing pain in her chest almost made her laugh aloud.

But she didn’t laugh. Instead, in a hoarse voice, she murmured, “Thank you, Senior, for the lesson.”

Even with her heart shattered by the sword, it continued to beat. She was no ordinary human, a pierced heart wouldn’t kill her; it would merely hurt.

When Bai Yushuang pulled out the blade, blood gushed to the ground, yet Gu Baiyi only staggered slightly without falling.

From her neck, a phoenix totem unfurled its wings, blood-red veins intertwined with black threads. Dark demonic energy surged into her heart, forming a barrier to repair the gaping wound.

Bai Yushuang ran her fingertips along the blade, the blood upon it pulsating with the energy of a powerful demon—a force as unstoppable as an ancient tidal wave.

In that instant, Bai Yushuang understood many things, and countless possibilities raced through her mind.

The scattered swords of the legendary immortal Baihua, the sacrificial rites, the prophecy of the demon seed foretold by the Grand Priest before his fall...

Everything seemed to center on the person before her—or rather, the being who could no longer be called a mere person.

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Bai Yushuang smiled faintly. “A century ago, the Grand Priest predicted that the demon would return to the mortal world. You’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

At Baolu Market

Ji Rong stared at Wei Zongqiu and asked, “The Five Swords?”

Wei Zongqiu fanned himself leisurely. “The sect’s exam questions are never sequential. Three years ago, I saw this question on the 122nd scroll and failed to answer it. Last year, it came up again, and I got it wrong once more.”

With a wry smile, he continued, “This question has troubled me for years. So, Senior Sister Ji, do you know the answer?”

Ji Rong thought of her own absurd answers—Flirty Glances Sword and Sword of Unease—and fell silent.

Clearly, he was asking the wrong person.

But with nothing pressing to do, Ji Rong decided it wouldn’t hurt to lighten the pre-exam tension.

So she nodded. “I’ve heard a few legends about the Five Swords.”

As Liu Ningxue toyed with her duck figurine, she listened attentively while Ji Rong began recounting a long tale.

According to the Records of Cultivation Secrets, a thousand years ago, there were still traces of true immortals in the cultivation world—one titled Baihua and another named Minghua.

These two immortals maintained order in the cultivation realm, though no one knew where they came from.

All anyone knew was that they were deities far above the mortal masses, serving as their protectors.

Minghua, the immortal, proclaimed that those who broke through the Returning to the Dust Realm could traverse time, peer into the past and future, and reach the Outer Realms.

Upon hearing this, even woodcutters and fishermen abandoned their livelihoods to retreat into the mountains, seeking eternal life and ascension to immortality.

But what exactly were the Outer Realms?

No one truly knew, but in the imaginations of the people, the land beyond the mundane world was a place free from conflict, brimming with the essence of heaven and earth. Those who dwelled there, like the two True Immortals, were believed to be eternal, existing for ten thousand years without end.

Minghua, the True Immortal, cared little for worldly affairs and soon returned to the otherworldly realm. Sanhua, however, adored the vast rivers and mountains and chose to remain in the cultivation world, wandering the land.

People believed Sanhua to be a True Immortal, one who had transcended worldly desires and emotions.

With an infinite lifespan, Sanhua traveled between realms for millennia, savoring the eternal yet solitary life she was destined to lead.

No one had ever taught her about love or longing. She seemed born to uphold order, a solitary moon in the heavens, lofty, serene, and achingly lonely.

Until that day, when Sanhua arrived at the Divine Sect and saw a woman beneath a peach tree, plucking blossoms.

The woman’s features were elegant and refined, her smile as captivating as a crescent moon.

Sanhua paused, watching intently as the woman gently broke off a peach blossom. In that moment, she heard her own heartbeat thundering in her chest.

She had never imagined that her heart, long thought still and detached, could stir for another.

Sanhua had always considered herself akin to the bell tower in the otherworldly realm, existing only to correct the disorder of time and uphold the principles of her faith. Yet now, she found herself in disarray.

Hearing this, Liu Ningsheng’s eyes widened in disbelief. “So Sanhua True Immortal fell in love with that woman?”

Wei Zongqiu shook his head. “It’s not love. The original text says, ‘Sanhua was astonished and regarded her as a cherished one.’”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Liu Ningsheng retorted, at a loss for words. “I didn’t expect Senior Brother Wei to know this legend too.”

Wei Zongqiu sighed. “Junior Sister, if you’d read even one of the books the elders recommend, you wouldn’t have to ask such questions.”

Ji Rong, recalling the background lore of the ancient Heavenly Pits, continued the tale.

Sanhua never revealed herself. She simply observed the woman for two hundred years—watching her drink under the peach tree, marry someone else, and raise children.

She fulfilled her duty, gazing down at the world with compassion and benevolence. But whenever her eyes fell upon that woman, they softened with an unmatched tenderness.

Mortal lives were far too brief. Sanhua watched as the woman aged, her youthful beauty fading, her once-bright eyes growing clouded and dim.

Yet Sanhua’s gaze remained gentle. Occasionally, she would lean against the veranda, watching the woman nap in a reclining chair under the sun.

One spring day, the elderly woman squinted toward the empty courtyard and murmured, “Is that you?”

No one answered.

Even at the woman’s deathbed, Sanhua’s ethereal form hovered nearby, only a step away from grasping her frail hand. But she never took that step.

Sanhua was a True Immortal who walked the path of detachment. For ten thousand years, she had believed that by avoiding love and remaining an observer, she would never experience loss.

But after the woman’s death, Sanhua returned to the otherworldly realm. Gazing at the towering bell tower, she suddenly found the time and order she had upheld to be laughably hollow.

Her Dao heart wavered, and in its place, inner demons took root. The once-compassionate Sanhua True Immortal vanished, leaving behind a deranged demon.

Sanhua exhausted countless years of immortal power and sacrificed the lives of five hundred boys and girls to forge five divine swords. She sought to defy the eternal heavens and reverse time, to bring the woman back to life.

Her actions were deemed unforgivable, and the world united against her.

Just as Sanhua was on the brink of success, the heavens unleashed divine lightning upon her secluded cave.

Sanhua was reduced to ash, and the world was left without a True Immortal.

After hearing this, Liu Ningsheng fell silent before asking, “What happened to the five swords Sanhua forged?”

Ji Rong replied, “Because they were forged from the True Immortal’s very soul, it’s said they’re indestructible. Later, Minghua True Immortal returned to the world and entrusted the swords to the most renowned figures of the cultivation world.”

Liu Ningsheng frowned. “But wouldn’t that mean some went to righteous sects and others to demon sect?”

Ji Rong looked at Liu Ningsheng, momentarily at a loss for words in the face of her naivety.

Unable to bear it, Wei Zongqiu explained, “If they hadn’t done that, no single faction would ever be able to control all five swords. And to this day, no one knows for certain if they still exist.”

Ji Rong added, “The tale became so outlandish over time that it turned into legend.”

Liu Ningsheng seemed deep in thought before asking, “Senior Sister, do you believe True Immortals exist?”

Ji Rong nodded.

After all, she had already broken through the dimensional barrier to arrive here. What couldn’t she believe?

At that moment, Wei Zongqiu deftly steered the conversation. “Enough of that. I’m very curious—what did you write on the test scroll, Senior Sister?”

His eyes gleamed with curiosity, alight with the flames of gossip.

For centuries, people had speculated about the whereabouts of the five swords. Among the most popular theories were Yue Qianqiu’s Qing Shuang Sword and Chu Changli’s Chixiao Sword.

As a player of the game, Ji Rong knew exactly what the developers had intended for the five swords.

In the game, each sword required one hundred divine sword fragments to exchange. Despite all the money she’d spent, she had only managed to acquire two to fill her equipment slots over the years.

But how could she possibly explain this to Wei Zongqiu, something only a fellow pay-to-win player would understand?

Ji Rong looked at her two companions, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. Putting on a solemn expression, she mouthed as if to reveal a profound secret.

Just as the two held their breath, she calmly stated her answer.

“I wrote down two swords: one named Flirty Glances Sword and the other Sword of Unease.’ I hope Elder Gong won’t hold it against me.”

Liu Ningsheng froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Wei Zongqiu fell silent for a long time, finally letting out a bitter sigh. “Truly, your words are as enlightening as listening to a riddle.”