Jiang Ze listened to the silence behind him, his expression turning icy cold.
Hah.
Just soone who would throw everything away for the sake of love.
Unconcerned about their own cultivation being damaged, yet clinging to a single word spoken by that person in life.
How laughable.
His face remained cold as he flicked his sleeve and left.
The next day.
Beneath the Illusionary Beauty Tree, Xu Wanci practiced her swordplay with the sa focus as the day before, channeling her qi into each movent.
Beside the Dark Jade Table, Jiang Ze sat once more, though his expression was three degrees colder than before.
An aura of unyielding frost surrounded him, as if capable of freezing everything in its vicinity—a bone-piercing chill.
Yet Xu Wanci, practicing her swordplay not far away, remained completely unaware.
Her blade surged with sword intent, each strike carrying a faint but undeniable sharpness.
She had only recently grasped the concept of sword intent, and her control over spiritual energy during her movents was still unrefined. Occasionally, her sword energy spiraled out of control, scattering across every corner of the courtyard.
A wayward strand of sword energy, infused with intent, shot uncontrollably toward Jiang Ze—only to vanish into nothingness three inches before reaching him.
Jiang Ze didn’t move a muscle, but his expression darkened further.
His gaze swept over the scattered sword energy before settling on the Illusionary Beauty Tree, its leaves untouched by even the slightest disturbance.
After three breaths, he looked away, his voice dripping with frigid disdain:
"Focus your qi in the middle dantian, shift three inches to the right."
Though the instruction was cryptic, Xu Wanci only needed a mont to recall her training and adjust her spiritual energy accordingly.
The burning sensation in her left hand sharpened her focus, and her swordplay grew increasingly fluid.
She began to truly comprehend the essence behind each stance of the Origin-Returning Sword Art—its purpose and evolution.
Jiang Ze watched as Xu Wanci imrsed herself completely in the sword art, his eyes lowering slightly to conceal his thoughts:
With such talent and comprehension, if she dedicated herself to cultivation without distraction, her future would be limitless.
A pity—
His grip on the teacup tightened imperceptibly, his expression darkening further.
Xu Wanci paid no attention to his thoughts.
She continued, stubbornly and thodically, practicing the Origin-Returning Sword Art.
Once, twice…
After countless repetitions, an unusual rhythm suddenly infused her movents.
Her strikes beca as light as falling snow, yet carried an unyielding sharpness—as if she had left herself no room for retreat.
Jiang Ze silently set down his teacup:
This was the state of enlightennt that all swordsn sought in their lifeti—the purest understanding of a sword art.
But…
Xu Wanci had yet to fully master her spiritual energy control. Achieving enlightennt now was more perilous than beneficial.
As Xu Wanci’s swordplay grew increasingly erratic, Jiang Ze’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the Dark Jade Table.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths…
Just before she lost control, his fingers flicked, sending a dark strand of spiritual energy straight toward Xu Wanci’s right hand.
Xu Wanci felt a sudden numbness in her wrist. Her spiritual energy faltered for an instant, and her movents paused.
She stared at her sword-holding hand, her slightly dazed gaze clearing in a single breath.
Realizing what had just happened, she looked up—only to see a surge of fla-infused spiritual energy hurtling toward Jiang Ze from the courtyard entrance.
The attack was accompanied by a furious shout:
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Chu Qingchuan had endured half an hour after learning of Xu Wanci’s injury before his feet carried him to the Sword Peak.
Before he even reached the courtyard, he saw Jiang Ze strike out at Xu Wanci.
Without hesitation, he channeled half his spiritual energy, unleashing the Thousand Silence Flas from the Thousand Pill Transformation at full force.
Jiang Ze’s gaze remained fixed on Xu Wanci. He took a sip of tea, and inky-black spiritual energy coiled around the flas, devouring them whole.
In the next mont, tendrils of energy lashed out toward Chu Qingchuan, binding him tightly within seconds.
The Thousand Pill Transformation allowed Chu Qingchuan to fight above his level, but at best, it only enabled him—a late-stage Golden Core cultivator—to challenge a Nascent Soul cultivator.
Between him and Jiang Ze, a Great Ascension cultivator, lay an insurmountable gap.
Jiang Ze didn’t even glance at Chu Qingchuan, suspended midair by his spiritual energy, as if the man were beneath his notice.
Chu Qingchuan, bound and unable to move, flushed crimson with humiliation.
Since becoming the Taiqing Sect Master’s personal disciple, even the sect elders had treated him with respect.
It had been a long ti since anyone dared to humiliate him like this.
Gritting his teeth, Chu Qingchuan forced out his words:
"Why did you attack Xu Wanci?!"
Recognizing Jiang Ze’s identity and knowing he wouldn’t dare kill him, his voice steadied slightly:
"Xu Wanci may have injured Qiu Ning, but… there were extenuating circumstances. She already made ands with the Inkfrost Sacred Orchid. The matter is settled."
"Yesterday, you wounded her with the Nether Needle. Wasn’t that enough?"
"Why attack her again today?"
After listening to his tirade, Jiang Ze finally reacted.
He cast a dismissive glance at Chu Qingchuan, as if only now recognizing him, and raised a brow:
"Chu Qingchuan?"
Chu Qingchuan suppressed his fury, subtly adjusting his restrained spiritual energy. The Thousand Silence Flas quietly eroded the bonds around him.
Jiang Ze’s attention didn’t linger on him. His cold gaze returned to Xu Wanci beneath the Illusionary Beauty Tree, his voice indifferent:
"Why aren’t you with Qiu Ning? What business do you have here?"
Chu Qingchuan stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Slowly, he unclenched his fists and replied:
"Xu Wanci and I share a bond as fellow disciples."
"A fellow disciple was injured, and the cause involves . It’s only right that I co to check on her."
Jiang Ze’s eyes narrowed faintly:
A bond as fellow disciples?
He suddenly recalled Jiang Qiuning’s words:
Xu Wanci once believed Chu Qingchuan to be the reincarnation of that person.
She had been… deeply infatuated with him, going out of her way to please him.
His gaze returned to Xu Wanci, now absorbed in refining her sword intent. His grip on the teacup tightened, his expression darker than ever:
Reincarnation? Pleasing him?
Jiang Ze turned his head, finally looking directly at Chu Qingchuan:
Hah.
As if he were worthy.
In an instant, the spiritual energy binding Chu Qingchuan constricted violently, leaving bloody marks across his body.
Chu Qingchuan remained motionless—until a blinding golden light erupted around him.
A defensive artifact capable of withstanding a Transcendent Realm attack activated.
The black spiritual energy was instantly obliterated by the golden radiance.
Freed, Chu Qingchuan summoned black flas in his palm. With the aid of the half-step divine artifact, the Refinent Scripture, he launched himself at Jiang Ze without hesitation.
Jiang Ze flicked his left hand, and a surge of inky-black spiritual energy t the attack head-on.
anwhile, Xu Wanci paid no attention to the conflict between the two n.
A family dispute between an uncle and his niece’s husband had nothing to do with her.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was improving her cultivation.
Ti was running out for her.
Moreover, her current persona demanded nothing but relentless dedication to mastering the sword.
Everything else was irrelevant.
Recalling the sword intent she had grasped in her mont of enlightennt, she resud practicing the Guiyuan Sword Technique.
A muffled groan echoed.
Chu Qingchuan was struck in the chest by a surge of spiritual energy, sent flying backward, blood spilling from his lips.
Now, his body and face were streaked with wounds. Though the injuries weren’t life-threatening, the sight was pitiful.
Hearing Chu Qingchuan’s cry of pain, Jiang Ze glanced sideways at Xu Wanci, who was still practicing her sword forms.
Seeing not the slightest disruption in her movents, he leisurely took two steps back and sat down again.
Clutching his chest, Chu Qingchuan instinctively looked toward Xu Wanci.
Her expression was calm, utterly absorbed in her training—and in that mont, he realized that from the second he had stepped into this place, her gaze had never once settled on him.
Before, the mont he appeared, her eyes would forget all others…
But now, even as he lay battered and bleeding, she wouldn’t spare him a second glance.
To her, without the identity of the Immortal Venerable’s reincarnation, he was likely nothing more than a stranger.
An unfamiliar ache surged in Chu Qingchuan’s chest.
Knowing Xu Wanci hadn’t been hard by Jiang Ze, his voice carried a strange mix of exhaustion and resignation:
“I misjudged you, Young Master Jiang. My apologies.”
Just then, Xu Wanci sheathed her sword and spoke, her tone almost sighing:
“Chu Qingchuan.”
At the sound of her voice, his eyes lit up abruptly.
He jerked his head toward her, his gaze brimming with an anticipation he himself hadn’t noticed.
Nearby, Jiang Ze paused, his cup halfway to his lips.
The next instant, Xu Wanci’s voice was so soft it nearly vanished, weighed down by exhaustion:
“The Divine Refinent To—it has never known defeat.”
Chu Qingchuan stiffened. A storm of emotions rose in his chest, forcing his head down.
Even as he bled, even as he teetered on the edge of life and death—
The one she truly cared about had always been soone else.
After one last glance at Xu Wanci, Chu Qingchuan turned away, shoulders slumped, and limped out of the Sword Peak.
By the dark jade table, Jiang Ze’s aura grew even colder than when Chu Qingchuan had arrived.
His eyes swept over Xu Wanci’s weary, sorrow-laden figure before he looked away, his voice icy:
The Divine Refinent To.
Hmph.
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