Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 1

After the rain swept over the mountains, it washed the landscape into a misty, picturesque expanse of verdant hues.

Amidst the swirling clouds, the figures of several young disciples flickered in and out of view along the massive ridge. Their plain robes brushed against the spirit herbs growing in the crevices of the stones as they ascended the steps, carrying light swords and conversing in hushed tones.

Meanwhile, the protective formation enveloping the entirety of Qingdi Divine Mountain was being cleansed by the celestial rain that fell once every thirteen days. High above them, within the immortal mist hundreds of zhang away, an imperceptible golden glow radiated unseen by these young immortals.

Having just emerged from the Sword Platform, the disciples had shed the sharp, murderous aura of blades and were now relaxed. Seeing that they had moved far beyond the boundary controlled by the Sword Venerable, their conversation shifted from purifying the mind and comprehending the Dao to idle gossip. But they had only chatted for a few moments when one of them suddenly halted, her eyes widening in horror as she gazed up the stone steps.

On the necessary path leading to the summit of Qingdi Divine Mountain, where the disciples’ Qing Chambers were located, a gruesome trail of deep crimson blood had appeared at some point.

As if someone, not long ago, had struggled to crawl upward on hands and knees.

The young immortals attending the Fuxian Sword Academy exchanged uneasy glances before simultaneously looking up toward where the blood trail disappeared, already forming a conjecture in their minds.

The one at the front carefully stepped around the still-damp bloodstains and, as if recalling something, remarked knowingly, “It must be her. She was the only one absent from Sword Venerable Jiexia’s morning lesson today.”

With someone breaking the silence, the others no longer held back. One of them, who seemed privy to some inside information, sighed and said, “If she has no affinity for the sword unable to draw it after three hundred years, why does she still come to Qingdi Divine Mountain to study?”

“Perhaps it’s because of Immortal Hongjing?”

At these words, the others turned as one to stare at the speaker. Seeing their displeased expressions, she hesitated and asked, “Did I say something wrong? But everyone says the same.”

“If you already know, there’s no need to speak of it openly,” the disciple at the front cautioned softly. “Immortal Hongjing dislikes her. Do not mention anything related to her in the immortal’s presence.”

The blood continued to snake along the stone steps like a river flowing backward.

The young immortals fell silent once more. The mountain flowers lining the narrow path were in full bloom, their fragrance rich and pervasive, yet it could not mask the faint, lingering scent of blood rising from beneath their feet.

They quickened their pace, deliberately avoiding the sight of the blood smeared step by step along the ascent. But the still-fresh stains clung to them like celestial ribbons, unsettling their minds truly detestable.

It was said that Immortal Hongjing had reached a state of enlightenment just one step away from becoming a true deity, and thus pursued an ascetic practice of returning to simplicity. She had imposed a restriction forbidding all immortals on Qingdi Divine Mountain from flying through the air. After some effort, the young immortals climbing the steps finally reached the mountaintop, where they saw the blood trail drag into the forest and disappear inside a secluded Qing Chamber.

Looking back, the blood resembled a waterfall cascading from the highest point of the stone steps a glaring, vivid red.

For a moment, no one spoke; only the rustling of wind through the forest blossoms could be heard.

After a long while, someone sighed, half in jest and half in earnest, “How truly ruthless.”

–

The spring rain pattered softly against the corridor outside.

In the mortal realm, such rain would be considered precious gentle as cream and valuable as oil but in the celestial realm, it was merely an ordinary occurrence. While mortal farmers feared the rain’s delay, minor immortals here grumbled about it disturbing their peaceful dreams. Listening to the rain, the young immortal curled up in the bathtub trembled slightly, her eyelashes fluttering as if she were still trapped in a fearful dream.

This was the peak of the Green Emperor’s Spirit Mountain, in the temporary lodgings known as the Azure Chambers, where students attending the Sword Immortal Academy resided.

The master of Green Emperor’s Spirit Mountain, renowned for her rainbow-like radiance that illuminated the world, cherished tranquility. Even in her absence, the minor immortals instinctively avoided causing a commotion on her mountain. But now, this unspoken rule was broken. Someone who had been crouching outside the door for who knows how long finally lost patience and began pounding loudly.

“Senior Sister Shen! Senior Sister Shen!”

A warm breeze drifted through the small latticed window, carrying the anxious yet timid calls of the youth outside, stirring faint ripples across the surface of the white jade bathtub.

Perhaps the loud knocking rescued her from the nightmare. The young immortal, who had been soaking in the tub for an unknown length of time, finally opened her eyes.

Tall in stature, she found it impossible to stretch her limbs comfortably within the confines of the tub, forced to lean in an awkward position. The moment her consciousness abruptly returned, Shen Fuxin noticed nothing else before the pungent scent of elderflowers mixed with blood assaulted her senses.

How long had she been in this tub?

Elderflowers were best paired with hot water, but the water in the tub had turned completely cold. Pushing aside the layer of white blossoms floating on the surface, she saw, to her horror, that the water beneath had taken on a startling shade of dark red.

Only upon witnessing the bloodstained water did she belatedly register the searing, tearing pain that wracked her entire body.

Shen Fuxin felt not only a headache but pain all over there wasn’t a single part of her that felt clear-headed.

Just moments ago, she had been at Zhao Lanying’s residence, thousands of miles away. In her final moments of consciousness, she had shattered her own immortal soul through self-destruction. By all logic, she should have lost her sanity and become a fallen immortal, devoid of emotion and reason. So why was she here?

Clutching her head, she was still pondering what had happened to her when the voice outside the door took on a tearful tone. The young immortal, recalling Shen Fuxin’s notoriously vengeful nature, dared not barge in and could only pound on the door more frantically. “Senior Sister Shen, are you dead?!”

Yes, she had indeed shattered her own immortal soul. For an immortal, losing one’s soul was no different from death. So why had she ended up in this dim and cramped Azure Chamber?

A shiver ran through Shen Fuxin. Her fingers, calloused from years of wielding a sword, gripped the edge of the tub tightly as she struggled to her feet, wincing in pain.

She scanned the small room and, sure enough, spotted a bouquet of blooming pink lotus flowers on the wooden table. Beside them lay that stubborn so-called life-bound divine sword, which had refused to yield to her for three hundred years.

There was no time to ponder further. Overwhelming pain and cold drove her to step out of the tub and summon her storage pouch to search for clothes. The elderflowers had provided some relief; the wounds on her body were beginning to itch and grow numb. Having endured countless beatings since she first began learning the sword, Shen Fuxin had gained enough experience to recognize this as a good sign, it meant her injuries were healing.

The person knocking on the door, hearing the commotion inside, belatedly realized that Shen Fuxin simply didn’t want to acknowledge them. Their voice softened again: “Senior Sister Shen, your injuries are so severe. How about I plead with Hongjing Xianzi and Jiexia Jianzun to excuse you from sword training at the Sword Platform tomorrow?”

Hearing the familiar name, Shen Fuxin’s fury surged, and she abruptly bent over, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Gritting her teeth, she gripped the edge of the bathtub, staring at her blurred reflection in the blood-filled water, and spat out hatefully, “Get lost, now!”

“But Senior Sister Shen,” the little immortal outside persisted, “if you don’t go to the Sword Platform, Hongjing Xianzi might worry.”

Shen Fuxin’s hands, which had been adjusting her robes, stilled for a moment. The word “worry” tugged at her raging emotions, and the tension in her brows and eyes eased, twisting into an unmistakable, mocking smile.

Her pale lips were covered in wounds from biting down in pain during the whipping. The smile tugged at those injuries, and her already haggard face took on a strange, eerie allure, stained with the damp blood at her lips.

No matter who might worry, Zhao Lanying would never worry.

Because that person simply had no heart.

After all this turmoil, Shen Fuxin finally remembered everything. The myriad worlds were full of strange and bizarre occurrences, but true rebirth was rare. She, Shen Fuxin, by some twist of fate, had been reborn three months before forming a contract with Hongjing Xianzi, Zhao Lanying, back to the time when she was studying at Qingdi Ling Mountain.

Come to think of it, the whip marks covering her body today were all thanks to Zhao Lanying.

The celestial realm stood above the mortal world, yet was subordinate to the divine realm. The immortals residing in the celestial realm were all prodigies of heaven some had ascended through rigorous cultivation from the mortal world, while others were celestial second-generation spirits born of the world’s spiritual energy.

Shen Fuxin was one of those native celestial second-generation immortals.

It was said she was an abandoned spirit, left to drift, until her adoptive father took pity on her and rescued her from a river channel.

To repay his kindness, she had toiled diligently for seven hundred years. Though born of heaven and earth’s spiritual energy, her comprehension was abysmal. Half the celestial realm knew that in the western reaches, by the Nankeo Corridor, there was such a hopeless failure who couldn’t be helped up even if pushed.

Sent by her family to study at Qingdi Immortal Mountain, Shen Fuxin had spent three hundred years without managing to draw even a single sword. Yesterday, Jiexia Jianzun of the Sword Platform had finally lost patience, berating her harshly. Shen Fuxin secretly cast a silencing spell on herself, outwardly obedient but inwardly weary of her inability to draw a sword. For three consecutive days, she skipped sword training at the platform.

Jiexia Jianzun was a former earthly immortal who had transcended through sword discourse, a true first-generation immortal who disdained fame and fortune. Usually mild-mannered and amiable, he despised laziness in students like her, born as minor immortals. In a fit of anger, he reported her to the Wuliang Dharma Platform, asking Zhao Lanying to adjudicate.

Hongjing Xianzi Zhao Lanying, the youngest master of an immortal mountain, obliged the sword venerable. In full view of everyone, she personally wielded the whip, delivering seventy-two lashes to Shen Fuxin. Given Shen Fuxin’s notorious reputation and family background, the other minor immortals avoided her and offered no help. With her magic sealed, she passed out multiple times and had to crawl back alone from the Wuliang Dharma Platform to her mountain peak chamber.

At this thought, Shen Fuxin lowered her eyes, gazing at the gruesome, pale scars twisting across her arms.

In her previous life, she had once believed that Zhao Lanying harbored no love or hatred in his heart only the compassion of the Great Dao. How laughable that Shen Fuxin had misjudged people so thoroughly. The family that adopted her, the seemingly affectionate foster father, the lofty goddess each and every one of them had been a force pushing her toward her doom.

All the absurd events that tore apart the lies began with that contract, sealed with a drop of Zhao Lanying’s heart’s blood.

Shen Fuxin had originally thought her family cherished her deeply, which was why they had chosen the finest immortal to accompany her for eternity. But it wasn’t until the grand ceremony ended and the immortal lifted the red veil covering her eyes, until the immortal gave her a smile that seemed both pitying and mocking amidst the faint glow of fireflies filling the room, and spoke words that drenched Shen Fuxin like a bucket of cold water, causing her to tremble from head to toe.

She said, “Shen Fuxin, judging by your aptitude, you truly are, as they said, a fine cauldron.”