Outside the latticed window, the night rain fell in a steady drizzle.
Raindrops, carried by the wind, tapped rhythmically against the glazed tiles of countless pavilions and halls—now lightly, now heavily—like the sound of shattering jade.
He Qingqing lay on the cold jade bed as the Jiangyun Fairy gently pressed her pulse, continuously channeling Spirit Qi into her body to keep her conscious and her Divine Sense focused.
This also sharpened He Qingqing’s five senses to an extreme degree.
"So this is the sound and sensation of a blade slowly scraping against bone," she thought.
Every sensation of pain was magnified twofold.
A haze of blood clouded her vision, allowing her only glimpses of the old monk switching blades, needles, and sprinkling medicinal powder, but nothing was clear.
At times, an unbearable itch would arise, as if countless ants were gnawing at her skin and devouring her flesh. Had she not been bound and immobilized, she would have torn her own face off.
At other times, an excruciating pain would strike, like a sharp needle piercing between her bones and drilling deeper. If not for the silencing spell cast by Jiangyun, she feared she would have screamed aloud.
This night felt interminably long and dark to her.
Pushed into the mine by her sect siblings, reprimanded by her master, subjected to a thousand cuts—yet she hadn’t shed a single tear.
"Enduring punishment in the eighteenth layer of hell could hardly be worse than this," He Qingqing thought. "I am a ghost clawing my way out of hell. A ghost determined to live among humans and live as they do!"
Bang! The latticed window was flung open by a fierce gust of wind, letting in a rush of cold air and rain.
Amid the blurry crimson haze, an inexplicable thought softened He Qingqing’s heart, which had been as firm as rock—
With such heavy rain, what is Senior Brother Song doing now? Has the flower trellis in his courtyard been blown over by the wind?
The pain persisted, and she lacked the strength to think further.
After what felt longer than ten thousand years, a pair of cool, soft hands clasped hers, and a woman’s voice, gentle and compassionate, spoke:
"It is done. Sleep now, sleep."
He Qingqing was finally released, her consciousness sinking instantly into darkness.
In the darkness, a light gradually brightened, illuminating a family of three.
The woman had eyes as tender as water and a faint, delicate fragrance; the man had a resolute face and broad shoulders.
A little girl with twin buns, jade-like and adorable, chirped playfully, "Mother, I want more rice cakes."
The woman held her hand. "How about we have rice cakes every year on your birthday?"
The man lifted her into his arms. "Qingqing, look at the lantern I bought you! Let’s go float river lanterns."
Suddenly, the lantern shattered, and all light vanished.
In the pitch-black Demon Cave, only the upper half of the woman’s body remained, screaming hoarsely, "Qingqing, live on, live on!"
Ziye Wenshu, drenched in blood, stood before collapsing boulders as demons roared.
Amid blood and fire, the entire world shook violently.
A god-like figure in black robes glanced down at her indifferently and extended a hand. "Come with me."
That hand was swallowed by a sea of flames.
The flames blazed into a blinding vermilion, transforming into the vermilion-lacquered small gate of Song Courtyard.
Song Qianji, bathed in silver moonlight and holding the Green Ripple Platform, stood beneath a peach blossom tree, smiling faintly at her.
The handsome youth’s voice was clear and gentle. "This zither is for you, as an apology."
The night breeze scattered his words, rippling over the sparkling waters of Qing Shi’s pond.
The Jiangyun Fairy moved through the crowd, her expression earnest. "Will you be my disciple?"
He Qingqing mustered all her strength to reach out—
But her fingertips only touched the icy surface of water, and the reflections, along with the peach blossoms, shattered into pieces.
Icy lake water flooded her mouth and nose, pulling her into deeper darkness.
She could grasp nothing.
No one in this world can save another from suffering; each must find their own way across.He Qingqing abruptly opened her eyes.
The sky was bright, birds chirping merrily.
Rising from the jade bed, she was startled to find her body unusually light, as if a few steps might send her flying.
She touched her face—the skin was smooth and delicate. Yet her room had never contained a mirror, nor many reflective surfaces.
Summer sunlight bathed the world in brilliance, lush vegetation thriving amid a chorus of birdsong.
With her hair flowing loose, He Qingqing rushed to the lotus pond.
Crimson lotuses bloomed in overwhelming profusion, so vibrant they seemed to eclipse the sky.
She approached slowly, hesitating like one returning home after long absence. As she lowered her head, fish darted beneath the water's surface, which clearly reflected a figure—raven hair cascading like a waterfall, a full forehead, phoenix eyes and long brows slightly upturned, a straight nose, and vermilion lips naturally red without adornment.
If Miaoyan’s face resembled celestial clouds or silver lotuses upon water, radiating a gentle glow without any hint of aggression,
Then this face was the sharp gleam of moonlight on blades, the cold pride of red plum blossoms in snowy fields.
A beauty that cut like a knife.
Each glance drew blood, making it impossible to behold directly.
With such features, she shouldn't be draped in plain white robes with disheveled hair.
She ought to wear six feet of opulent robes trailing along the ground, adorned with jewels and rare treasures that dazzled the eye.
He Qingqing smiled, and the radiant beauty in the water smiled back.
She reached out to gently touch her cheek, her eyes stinging slightly, the tip of her nose turning red.
"A thousand cuts and ten thousand wounds—truly worth it!" Jiangyun's voice sounded behind her.
He Qingqing whirled around.
"Amitabha." The old monk Wuxiang said, "Fairy He possesses remarkable resilience and profound wisdom. Surviving great calamity surely heralds future blessings."
Jiangyun nodded with a smile.
The old monk spoke gently, "This humble monk has two words I wish to share with Fairy He alone."
"Of course, Master." Jiangyun naturally consented.
Facing the "Divine Hand Monk" Wuxiang, He Qingqing bowed once more. "Thank you."
"You and this humble monk share a connection—no thanks are needed. I offer you this gift to celebrate your rebirth."
He Qingqing accepted it, lowering her head to examine it closely.
It was a string of crimson spirit jade prayer beads—eighteen dark red pearls, fine and translucent.
Under the sunlight, they glittered brilliantly, their internal patterns resembling flowing blood.
As He Qingqing rotated the beads, the two central ones successively revealed clearly carved characters.
Parting her vermilion lips, she softly read, "Qing... Qing."
Not only was this a superior magical artifact, but also a meticulously prepared gift. He Qingqing felt delighted. "It's my name!"
The old monk nodded with a smile.
"If Fairy He is willing, this humble monk will impart a cultivation method to double this artifact's power."
He Qingqing hesitated. "Having received such great kindness, I've no way to repay you."
The old monk spoke slowly, "We are not master and disciple, merely forming a worldly connection. I had planted a karmic seed, but that individual's fate has altered, severing our bond. By learning my method and fulfilling my wish, you repay the healing grace."
The old monk spoke with utmost directness.
Because of this frankness, He Qingqing no longer refused. With graceful composure, she smiled and said, "Thank you, Master!"
The old monk's eyes were profound like deep pools. From his wide monastic sleeve, he extended a finger to lightly touch the young maiden's brow.
At that moment, He Qingqing straightened her back, tilting her head slightly upward.
She believed this was heaven-sent fortune, the sweet reward after enduring bitterness.
...
"Sister Jiangyun, why do you say this?"
In the Peony Hall, Fairy Wangshu chuckled softly. Her smile remained beautiful, yet slightly strained."It means exactly what it says." Jiangyun's expression remained impassive. "Previously, without a personal disciple, many matters were temporarily handled by others. But now that I have taken a personal disciple, according to sect tradition, my disciple holds the position of head senior sister. She should rightfully oversee the Instruction Hall, guide junior disciples, supervise the mining of spirit stone veins, and safeguard the key to the top floor of the Hall of Ten Thousand Melodies."
Wangshu drew a sharp breath, suppressing her displeasure. "Senior Sister, Qingqing is still young and new to our sect, unfamiliar with our rules. Moreover, she has just recovered her appearance and needs time to rest peacefully. Since Liaohua has been managing the scriptures in the Instruction Hall, perhaps we could first ask her..."
Immortal Jiangyun interrupted, "Liaohua has violated sect rules and was just summoned by Qingqing to the Glazed Hall. She cannot come."
Immortal Wangshu's delicate brows furrowed slightly before quickly smoothing over as she glanced subtly behind her.
Standing behind her was Miaoyan.
Today, Miaoyan wore a lake-green gown with her hair styled in flowing clouds, enhancing her snow-white skin and flower-like beauty, making her appear ethereal and transcendent.
Since the Music Examination at the Grand Assembly of Distinguished Appraisals, Wangshu had not shown Miaoyan the slightest favor.
Yet Miaoyan remained her most accomplished personal disciple.
Matters among the younger generation should be resolved by the younger generation themselves; it would be undignified for seniors to intervene.
Moreover, Miaoyan clearly outmatched that He Qingqing, so she had nothing to worry about.
Catching her master's glance, Miaoyan understood and departed.
Wangshu smiled with satisfaction.
Jiangyun had come with ill intentions, and she needed to be fully alert to handle the situation.
...
Inside the Glazed Hall.
Rows of outer sect disciples stood on either side of the great hall, while He Qingqing sat alone on the elevated platform. Below, seven or eight female cultivators stood.
One woman's voice rose sharp and shrill as she defended herself loudly, "Head Senior Sister, you have no evidence! How can you wrong us like this? Are you bullying us junior disciples?"
Though their cultivation and talent were unremarkable, their backgrounds were prestigious, and they excelled at forming cliques. Calling themselves "junior disciples" was quite a stretch.
The outer sect disciples at the sides struggled to suppress their laughter.
They didn't know why He Qingqing had ordered them to summon these domineering troublemakers, but they hoped this "head senior sister" could truly hold her ground. Otherwise, by tomorrow, they might be the ones facing misfortune.
He Qingqing swiftly descended the high steps.
Slap! A crisp sound of a slap echoed through the hall.
The young woman covered her face in shock, pointing at He Qingqing with her other hand, "You... you!"
The other women were equally stunned.
"Speak the truth," He Qingqing said calmly.
"How dare you hit me? Even my master has never struck me!"
"The head senior sister has the authority to discipline all disciples on behalf of her master," He Qingqing replied. "Wasn't that a rule you taught me? Have you forgotten?"
The young woman's face flushed crimson as she unleashed her spiritual pressure, but it crashed against an invisible wall, throwing her to the ground.
She shuddered in realization—He Qingqing must possess some extraordinary treasure!
Who knew what life-protecting treasure Jiangyun had given her, enabling her spiritual pressure to rival that of a Golden Core cultivator.
The women exchanged swift glances, hoping to stall until Immortal Wangshu arrived to rescue them.
The young woman adopted a pitiful expression, "Head Senior Sister, I didn't do it! You fell into the mining tunnel by accident. Everyone was searching for you, so worried..."
Slap! Another harsh blow landed, drawing blood from her lips and reducing her to tears.
"Still lying?" He Qingqing said coldly. "Bai E, I remember your face."
As she raised her hand again, Bai E shrieked in terror:
"It was Senior Sister Liaohua! Senior Sister Liaohua told me to push you!"
"Silence!" Liaohua snapped.Seeing He Qingqing turn and walk toward her, her face instantly turned deathly pale, trembling like a sieve as she shouted with a fierce but weak tone:
"How dare you hit even me? Do you know who my aunt is?"
At that very moment, the maid loudly announced:
"Fairy Miaoyan has arrived—"
The women instantly breathed a sigh of relief, but to their surprise, He Qingqing paid no heed and still delivered that slap fiercely.
Liaohua was sent flying and fell to the ground, unable to get up.
Miaoyan’s eyes swept over the chaos in the hall and she knew she had arrived just in time—He Qingqing must have already vented her anger.
Once her temper had cooled, the matter would be easier to handle.
She first bowed to He Qingqing, her posture proper and her attitude humble:
"I have been negligent in my daily teachings. I do not know where my junior sisters have offended you, Senior Sister, but I apologize to you on their behalf. Today, I will take them back and will certainly discipline them strictly from now on. If they offend again, they will be severely punished."
The women’s eyes suddenly lit up. It was foreseeable that if they were saved today, they would be endlessly grateful to Miaoyan.
The lower Miaoyan’s posture was for them now, the more steadfast their loyalty would be in the future.
Miaoyan knew that He Qingqing responded better to softness than force—surely her temperament hadn’t completely overturned just because her face had changed?
She revealed a smile: "Senior Sister, please consider their youth and ignorance, and also for my sake, spare them this once."
She didn’t continue, but everyone knew what she meant to say.
"You want me to consider your face?" He Qingqing looked at her.
Miaoyan only smiled without speaking.
Face was reputation.
Miaoyan had the most beautiful face in the world—no one disliked looking at it.
But as He Qingqing looked at that face now, she found it utterly bland, like a bowl of plain noodle soup that had forgotten to add salt.
She even felt somewhat puzzled—how had her former self been so bewitched by this superficial appearance, working for others’ benefit?
He Qingqing said calmly, "I taught you the complete 'Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune'—that was already considering your face. Didn’t you know?"
Hearing her suddenly mention this tune, Miaoyan’s smile stiffened slightly.
"After the Music Examination, if you had sincerely sought guidance, you should have come to me yourself. Why did you invite me to your bamboo loft? If you had truly wanted to invite me, you could have invited only me. Why did you bring a crowd to back you up? Because you knew that in front of everyone, I would be too embarrassed to refuse you."
Miaoyan’s smile vanished completely, not out of embarrassment, but astonishment.
She had long grown accustomed to acting this way—achieving her goals without deliberate design, as naturally as blinking or breathing.
Suddenly having someone expose and puncture it—how could she not be astonished?
Miaoyan smiled again, saying softly, "Senior Sister, you’ve misunderstood. I only thought that since you’re new here, you should spend more time with everyone…"
He Qingqing interrupted: "After obtaining the complete piece, you said the seven-string zither solo was too lonely, so you adapted it into an ensemble score on your own, yet you still used the incomplete version. Regarding this tune, can you truly say you have a clear conscience?
"Fairy Miaoyan, you are not a bad person, but you are not genuine either. I have already seen enough of your face in the past—I don’t wish to see it anymore in the future."
Is she insane? How dare she speak to Senior Sister Miaoyan like this?
Miaoyan’s maid glared angrily but was silenced by the overwhelming pressure emanating from He Qingqing.
Seeing the situation turning unfavorable, the female cultivators cried out in panic, "Senior Sister Miaoyan, save us!"
Miaoyan turned a deaf ear, only standing there in a daze, as if she had been brutally slapped twice.
Would you dare strike the most beautiful face in the world?
He Qingqing did.
Miaoyan fled in disarray.She hadn't walked in such disarray for many years.
"Fairy, why are you leaving just like this?" The maid still couldn't accept it.
"What she said is true. Regarding the incomplete score, I do indeed feel guilty in my heart." Miaoyan said calmly:
"But I circulated the incomplete score not because I feared others might surpass my performance. I merely didn't want others to know the final notes of the qin score."
The Wind and Snow Array Entry Tune was like a story—Miaoyan wanted everyone to hear this story, yet she didn't want to reveal its ending.
This was her selfish desire.
For some unknown reason, Miaoyan stopped and suddenly looked back.
The scene inside the hall was almost indistinguishable now.
After the young woman regained her appearance, she remained slender, her waist so fine it seemed one could encircle it with a single hand.
Yet she resembled an incomparably sharp blade, determined to sever all the world's impurities, to make a clean break with the past.
Miaoyan murmured: "In what way am I inferior to her? Why did she obtain this piece first? Why did she learn the ending earliest?"
"Fairy, you are ten million times better than that evil spirit. She—" The maid originally wanted to curse the other's ugliness, but couldn't go against her conscience, so changed her words: "Her face may resemble a lotus, but her heart is that of a venomous snake."
Miaoyan paid no attention, only staring blankly as she said: "Every time I play it, I can't help but wonder—how could such a piece exist in this world? What kind of person could compose such music? I don't even know what they look like, whether they're male or female, what clothes they prefer to wear, what cultivation method they usually practice, what books they read."
"Fairy, you..." The maid hesitated, leaving her words unfinished.
Miaoyan gazed at the flowing clouds at the horizon:
"From today's perspective, this piece has become my heart's obstacle. I must meet the composer, fulfill this obsession, and break through this delusion."
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