After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 1

Fifteenth Day of the Eighth Month, Sunset.

As the dying sun set the last wisps of twilight ablaze in hues of orange and red, the boundary between heaven and earth dissolved, merging into a shared amber glow.

The summit of Mount Taibai, silent for millennia, was now teeming with a lively cacophony of flora spirits of all shapes and colors.

Every plant brimmed with spiritual energy, their heads raised toward the horizon, eagerly awaiting the moment the fiery glow would fade and the first rays of moonlight would bathe them.

The peak of Mount Taibai was the closest place to the Goddess’s palace and the celestial realm, home to countless flowers and plants.

Legend had it that on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, when the moon was full, the Goddess would disperse her spiritual energy, bestowing blessings upon all living beings.

And on this day, any plant that had cultivated for a thousand years could take human form.

The orange-red twilight bridged heaven and earth, and amidst the restless crowd of vegetation, hushed whispers could be heard.

“Excuse me, may I squeeze forward a little?” A trembling mimosa timidly poked its head out, softly addressing a small plant in front of it.

The mimosa was already overflowing with spiritual energy, having pushed its way from the very back. Finally, as it reached the last layer before the boundary, it mustered the courage to speak up.

The spots closest to the horizon were the best for bathing in moonlight, but this prime area had long been claimed by the “native” plants of Mount Taibai.

The addressed plant paused, its gaze falling on the mimosa’s leaves. The foliage, already withered and curled, could no longer contain the spiritual energy seeping out in wisps, as if it might burst apart at any moment.

“Of course.” The small plant at the forefront shifted slightly, making just enough room for the mimosa while taking a step back itself.

A lily of the valley beside the small plant reached out to stop it, grumbling, “Mianhao! Now’s not the time to be doing good deeds!”

The mimosa hadn’t expected to secure a spot so easily and stared blankly at the plant before it. This small plant resembled a narcissus in shape, with leaves like arrowhead, standing alone on a single stem against the wind, its lush green leaves bathed in the golden twilight.

For a moment, the mimosa couldn’t identify its species and shyly lowered its head, murmuring a soft “thank you.”

“You—” The lily of the valley drew out its voice in exasperation.

The small plant that had given up its spot didn’t seem the least bit disheartened. Unlike the other impatient plants, it appeared remarkably serene.

“Alright, Lanlan,” Jiang Mianhao soothed. “It’s just one spot. The wait won’t be long.”

Seeing that persuasion was futile, the lily of the valley shook its leaves in frustration and turned away.

Now standing in its new position, the mimosa felt a pang of guilt. Its curled leaves struggled to unfurl, but to no avail. “I’m sorry. My name is Mi Xiu. I’m a mimosa. May I ask your name?”

“I’m Jiang Mianhao,” the small plant replied, waving its leaf, which shimmered with a pristine green under the moonlight. “I’m a goodnight grass.”

After exchanging names, Mi Xiu fell silent, unable to conjure another word.

Her discomfort didn’t escape Jiang Mianhao’s notice. With a friendly flick of its leaf, it gently brushed against the tightly curled foliage, a faint green glow passing between them. “Don’t be nervous. You need to relax.”

A soothing coolness spread across Mi Xiu’s leaves, which had been burning from the chaotic surge of spiritual energy. Miraculously, they calmed. Grateful, Mi Xiu unfurled slightly and whispered, “Thank you.”

Jiang Mianhao smiled softly but before it could respond, a haughty and rude voice cut in from behind.

“Hey! You there, little grass spirit. Make way for me.” A resplendent peony in full bloom thrust its branch directly in front of Jiang Mianhao.

The crude and overbearing peony’s sudden outburst caused the delicate and newly unfurled flower to shrink back in fear once more.

Jiang Mianhao frowned, turning her back to ignore her.

The ignored peony grew even more indignant and snapped, “How dare a lowly grass spirit like you not recognize this young lady?”

The peony clan, renowned as the queen of flowers, hailed from the distant city of Luoyang. Having cultivated her way up through the ranks, she had leveraged her status for many privileges, and now she naturally assumed she could command others as she pleased.

Jiang Mianhao continued to disregard her shouting. She had grown up on the summit of Mount Taibai, diligently cultivating for a thousand years, waiting for the day she could finally take human form.

“Look the sunset glow is fading!”

A startled cry from the front drowned out the argument.

The curious blades of grass all turned their heads, staring eagerly at the darkened sky.

As the twilight receded and the full moon rose, the plants and trees that had waited for a millennium grew restless with excitement.

But once the sky dimmed, it never brightened again. Mountain mist stretched endlessly, and scattered points of light flickered in the distance.

……

……

At the same time.

In the mist-shrouded Wolong Pavilion, a child who had risen to light a lantern rubbed his eyes. Before he could even make out the shadowy figure in the courtyard, he was already struck down by a blade.

The wielder of the blade hovered midair. A beast with a human face, its massive black wings flapping ominously.

The once-celebrated Wolong Pavilion was reduced to ashes in a single blaze.

Before dawn could break, the news reached the Qingyang Palace.

The vast hall was illuminated by only a single flickering lamp, its hazy glow casting shadows over the face of the figure seated within, obscuring her expression.

The man prostrated on the floor wept uncontrollably, kowtowing repeatedly. “The Ao Bird Clan launched a night raid, destroyed our Wolong Pavilion, slaughtered our sacred heir, and stole our treasure! I beg the Goddess to aid us in avenging this annihilation of our clan!”

“If the Goddess refuses to help Wolong Pavilion, our Hulong Clan will have no choice but to die to prove our resolve!” Realizing his words were too bold, the man dared to glance up at the figure on the throne, then immediately cowered in fear, not daring to speak further.

The one seated upon the throne was like an ethereal wisp of smoke merely sitting there, she seemed untouchable.

The newly ascended Goddess was the youngest daughter of the Heavenly Emperor. Though the youngest in age, she was the first to awaken her wisdom and possessed the highest combat prowess. She was the only immortal in countless millennia capable of wielding the Frost Condensation technique.

Yet she was also the only deity in all those ages who remained aloof and unapproachable. Rumors claimed she lacked compassion and mercy; rigid and unyielding, one could only make direct requests of her. But…

“Die to prove your resolve?” Ye Qingge lifted her lashes slightly, her tone indifferent.

Her voice drifted down like a cold, wispy mist.

Realizing his mistake, the man pressed his forehead to the floor, sobbing. “Forgive me, Goddess! My words were improper. I beg for your mercy. Please save our Hulong Clan!”

Transforming into his true form, the man revealed himself as one of the Hexagonal Azure Dragons, guardians of the dragon veins. His jade-green horns pressed against the pristine white jade floor as he wept and pleaded.

The wails echoed through the grand hall until Ye Qingge finally parted her long lashes and spoke softly, “Granted.”

Just two words, and the sobbing Hexagonal Azure Dragon immediately ceased his cries. After a hurried expression of gratitude, he soared into the sky and vanished.

Silence returned to the hall. The Wuji Mystic Master, who had been standing at the side, furrowed his brows in concern.

Sensing her master’s unease, Ye Qingge asked gently, “Does Master find something amiss?”

The Wuji Mystic Master was Ye Qingge’s mentor, one of the few remaining elders from the old celestial court who had once fought alongside the late Heavenly Emperor to conquer the Three Realms.

The Infinite Mystic Master pondered for a moment before speaking gravely, “Qingge, your Dao foundation is still unstable, and the final breakthrough remains elusive. This journey may be—”

“No matter,” Ye Qingge replied, her expression unchanged. “The demon realm has been locked in battle with our immortal realm for over a century. It’s time for an end.”

“But last month, you suffered a backlash of spiritual energy, and your strength has yet to recover. Those serpent-birds are cunning beyond measure,” the Infinite Mystic Master sighed. “And tonight is the full moon, your spiritual energy.”

Azure pillars supported the four corners of the hall, where the Frost Fan left by the previous Immortal Emperor rested on an altar. A wispy mist curled through the grand chamber.

“The Fate Diviner has yet to calculate my Red Luan stirring. There will be time to sever the bond of love with my sword upon my return,” Ye Qingge said, rising with a flick of her sleeve. “Your disciple has already accepted this task. Though perilous, I must go.”

The Infinite Mystic Master opened her mouth to say more, but Ye Qingge had already walked away, leaving only an aloof silhouette behind.

Last night, while observing the celestial omens, the Infinite Mystic Master had calculated with her fingers. Ye Qingge’s Red Luan star flickered faintly, a sign that her destined love was about to emerge.

The Infinite Mystic Master and Ye Qingge’s mother, Ye Liyu, had been as close as sisters, having fought side by across the Nine Provinces. But compared to the lively and laughter-loving Ye Liyu, Ye Qingge was the epitome of cold detachment.

Ye Liyu had borne nine children, and Ye Qingge was the youngest yet also the first to awaken her divine wisdom.

By the age of a thousand, she had already ascended as a goddess and taken her place in the celestial court. Yet Ye Qingge had stubbornly refused to accept her official title, all because the final layer of her Emotion-Severing Dao remained unbroken.

The goddess lineage was revered for sheltering the heavens and upholding righteousness. Their true forms were the stars above but Ye Qingge was different.

Her true form was born of the crescent moon, a once-in-a-millennium constitution of extreme cold. The Dao she cultivated was the Emotion-Severing Path, the legendary Dao of Heartlessness.

But the final breakthrough eluded her, causing her inner energy to deplete severely. The devoured spiritual power tormented her endlessly.

Unlike her sisters, who, though lacking in cultivation, were compassionate and magnanimous, Ye Qingge was detached and indifferent, almost unrighteous. She adhered rigidly to rules, untouched by human sentiment, appearing fair and impartial on the surface.

In truth, she was bound by doctrine, never swaying in judgment, as if measuring everything with an unerring ruler. She cared only for order, never for mercy.

She would kill exactly as many as decreed, leaving no room for leniency or redemption.

The Infinite Mystic Master had admonished her countless times for this, but eventually realized Ye Qingge wasn’t lacking in compassion. She simply had no heart.

This was also why her final tribulation remained unbroken.

A goddess without a shred of mercy, yet burdened with a fatal calamity, the tribulation of love.

The Infinite Mystic Master sighed. She knew Ye Qingge’s temperament. This journey was inevitable.

Sure enough, the one who had left with a flick of her sleeve returned. Her silver-white hair was now tied in a crown, and her beauty was so arresting that one dared not look too long, fearing even a lingering gaze would be a desecration.

No matter how many times she saw her, the Infinite Mystic Master was always struck anew by her disciple’s ethereal grace. Her white robes fluttering, her jade-like features radiant as the moon after a storm.

“Qingge,” the Infinite Mystic Master waved her hand, and golden light coiled around Ye Qingge before vanishing into her surroundings. “You must protect yourself.”

Ye Qingge bowed. “Master need not worry.”

Passing the Hall of Eternal Bliss and crossing the Moonlit Sea, she arrived at the Raven-Python Abyss.

Before her eyes churned a sea of black clouds. The ravens lurking beneath the roiling mist sensed the disturbance but had barely glimpsed their assailant before meeting their end beneath a flashing blade.

This was not the first time Ye Qingge had crossed the Raven-Python Sea alone. For over a century, she had been locked in a relentless struggle with the demon realm, neither side able to gain the upper hand.

The Raven-Python Sea was ruled by two sovereigns—the black-winged ravens and the giant serpents. The territory was divided between them, with the ravens holding the north and the pythons the south.

Last night’s ambush had been orchestrated by Wuji, overlord of the raven forces.

As Ye Qingge flew forward on her sword, every raven that crossed her path fell to her blade.

When she reached the Black Raven Palace, its dark crimson gates were guarded by a massive blood-red python.

As if awaiting her arrival, the serpent flicked its tongue and shifted its coils. This was the other ruler of the Raven-Python Sea—Siji.

Before Ye Qingge could draw her sword, the python’s crimson tail had already coiled around it. The slender, scarlet appendage wound its way up the moon-white hilt, then paused as droplets of blood, red as fresh flesh, dripped down.

“Tsk, Little Qingge is as fierce as ever,” Siji’s voice was light and soft, her blood-red tongue boldly flicking against the back of Ye Qingge’s hand.

A flash of cold steel, the serpent’s tongue instantly retracted.

Embedded in Siji’s tail was an ice blade, the mark left by that fleeting gleam.

“Where is Wuji?” A flicker of weariness passed through Ye Qingge’s eyes as she flicked her wrist, sending the serpent’s tail recoiling from her sword hilt.

Siji clicked her tongue in displeasure, reluctantly withdrawing her tail with a sigh. “Is that dead crow all you ever think about?”

“I could just as easily think about a dead snake like you.” With those words, Ye Qingge raised her sword and struck.

The azure blade danced in her hands, its silver gleam cutting through the air like frost as it slashed toward the serpent.

Siji hadn’t expected Ye Qingge’s strike to be so swift. Before the flirtatious serpent could react, the blade had already left multiple gashes across her scaled body.

“Tsk~ Little Qingge is as sharp as ever.” Siji smirked, retracting her tail and shifting into human form. Her fiery red hair cascaded over her shoulders as a blood-red whip lashed through the air, coiling around Ye Qingge’s sword hilt. “But wounds only excite me especially when they’re drawn by your hand.”

With her sword ensnared, Ye Qingge lifted her icy gaze. A frigid light erupted from her azure eyes, striking Siji squarely between the brows.

Caught off guard, Siji staggered as the whip loosened, sending her plummeting downward. Before she could hit the ground, a black-feathered wing wrapped around her, and a hand steadied her shoulder.

“Stupid snake.” The dark wings flapped once before their owner shifted into human form. Wuji sneered, “If not for your mother’s ties to mine, you’d never be fit to rule alongside me.”

Siji curled her lip in disdain. “Dead bird, let go of me.”

Ye Qingge didn’t linger on their bickering. Her sword flashed again as she advanced, striking with renewed force.

Her earlier clash with Siji had drained her stamina. No matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t break through the final barrier each exertion only rebounded upon her.

Wuji was quicker than Siji. She had already raised her blade to block before Ye Qingge’s strike landed.

“Little Qingge, don’t waste your strength.” Wuji’s laugh was cold as she swung her sword forward.

At the same moment, a silver needle shot from her fingertips. Siji’s crimson whip lashed out in tandem, both attacks aimed at Ye Qingge’s legs.

A sharp pain shot through her limbs. As the scarlet whip coiled around her, Ye Qingge raised her sword and slashed down.

The silver needle pierced the base of her thigh, and pain spread instantly in its wake.

Ye Qingge glanced at the red whip still coiled around her leg and understood. Raising her gaze, she began channeling the true qi within her body.

Her final breakthrough had always eluded her. Wuji, ever the master of deceit, had laced the needle with poison, which was already spreading through her.

But just as she mobilized her energy, darkness clouded her vision. A brilliant golden light flared beside her, repelling the sword and whip that had been aimed at her.

The golden barrier bestowed upon her by the Wuji Mystic Master suppressed the qi she had summoned. The backlash of spiritual energy was forced back into her body.

Blood trickled from the corner of her lips. Before she could react, she was sent plummeting downward.

Frostblade Sword clung to her side as endless darkness enveloped her. The only sound in her ears was the howling wind.

She fell for what felt like an eternity before a sliver of light finally pierced the darkness.

The wind ceased. Ye Qingge landed.

The voice of the Wuji Mystic Master echoed in her ears.

[Qingge, the first person you see upon opening your eyes shall be your love tribulation. Sever it, and only then shall you achieve greatness.]