Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 22

The purple pill rolled across the floor. Their eyes followed its motion for a long time until it bumped against the base of the cauldron with a crisp clack. Shen Fuxin and Ji Ting exchanged a glance before Fuxin raised her hand to summon it back.

Holding the now quiescent Thunder Pill loosely, Shen Fuxin flipped through her book with one hand. “The manual from Great God Yandan says a successfully refined Thunder Pill should be pale purple throughout.”

Even if she had thrown a heavy sword into the cauldron, and even if her creations always had a touch of the bizarre; it still shouldn’t have caused a charred, rock hard failed pill to transform into such a masterpiece for no reason.

Ji Ting suddenly spoke. “Do you remember the third pill from the Divine Court Flower Banquet?”

Shen Fuxin remembered, of course. She set the book down, her heart sinking as she gazed at the vibrant purple pill shimmering with golden light. That day, a key ingredient had clearly been missing; the ‘God Listening Pill’ requested by the High Gods should have been an impossibility. Yet, she had injured her hand, and some of her own blood had inadvertently mixed with the ingredients.

Could it be that I myself am a medicinal ingredient?

At this thought, her eyes turned cold. For a fleeting moment, she considered striking first; stabbing Ji Ting and turning her into a Fallen Immortal to ensure the secret stayed buried.

However, before the sword intent in her hand could take shape, it dissipated on its own. She glanced at Ji Ting, who was humming an ancient tune. Ji Ting was still useful; moreover, they were two people with private agendas, now bound together like grasshoppers on a single string. Besides, Ji Ting’s strength was unpredictable; if they truly fought, Shen Fuxin feared she would be the one suffering the consequences.

Shen Fuxin flicked away the residual sword intent and said naturally, “I remember. What is your insight on this?”

Ji Ting hummed softly, pacing around the cauldron. Under the moonlight, her face appeared as warm as jade, unparalleled in beauty; even Shen Fuxin’s iron heart wavered for a split second.

Having paced enough, Ji Ting pressed her fist to her lips and suddenly leaned in close to examine Shen Fuxin’s face. “I think, Xiao Fu, your constitution must be a matter of natural bloodline inheritance.”

Shen Fuxin took a step back, avoiding Ji Ting’s gaze.

She gripped the purple pill tightly, her mind flashing back to the lotus leaf and flower she had held in her hands that other day.

Her heart began to drum against her ribs, and her throat felt inexplicably dry. If she possessed the ability to act as a medicinal “cauldron,” she had to hide it to survive. But what about the person who passed this bloodline down to her?

She lowered her eyes, resisting the urge to follow that train of thought. Whether she dwelled on it or feared it, the unknown path ahead was likely not something her current self could change. All she could do was grow as quickly as possible; before she attempted to shake the heavens; to ensure she never fell back into the plight of her previous life.

Shen Fuxin refocused on the pill in her palm.

One look at its quality confirmed it wasn’t a failure; it was actually superior to the Thunder Pill described in the manual. As for its effects, Shen Fuxin had no idea. After a moment’s thought, she took out the golden communication leaf given by Yandan.

In less than three breaths, the phantom projection of Great God Yandan appeared before them.

She looked exhausted, as if she had just finished a battle, leaning back in her usual rocking chair. Seeing Shen Fuxin, the gloom between Yandan’s brows lifted slightly. “Fuxin, why have you called?”

Shen Fuxin held up the pill. “Master, this is the Thunder Pill I just refined. It seems different from the description in your book.”

Yandan’s projection leaned in to look, her expression turning to one of surprise. “It is indeed a Thunder Pill, but the color is unusual, and the quality far exceeds a standard one… What extra did you add?”

Shen Fuxin was certainly not going to tell Yandan that the pill had taken a trip through her own dantian. They hadn’t known each other long; though they were master and disciple, Shen Fuxin wasn’t willing to bet her life on a master who had appeared out of nowhere.

So she said, “I threw in a heavy sword.”

Yandan nodded. Seeing a strange look on Shen Fuxin’s face, she assumed the girl was simply unconfident in her own alchemy. She comforted her, “There is nothing wrong with this pill. You may consume it with peace of mind. Its increased potency will be of great benefit to you.”

Shen Fuxin hesitated for a moment while pinching the pill. Yandan said warmly, “I am watching from here, and your Immortal Envoy is there as well. Nothing will go wrong.”

As soon as Yandan finished speaking, Shen Fuxin placed the Thunder Pill in her mouth.

Unlike the Sword Pill she had swallowed earlier, this Thunder Pill brought a numbing electric shock the moment it touched her tongue. Before she could distinguish its flavor, it dissolved into a stream of slightly sweet, icy water, nourishing her limbs and bones.

Ji Ting and Yandan’s projection both watched her. After a few silent breaths, Yandan saw that Shen Fuxin’s expression was normal and she could still move her limbs. She smiled and asked, “How do you feel?”

However, she received no answer.

A thunderclap like the strike of a giant drum pierced through heaven and earth. Ji Ting looked up. The wind and rain in the Immortal Realm were controlled by countless arrays; natural weather was rare. This thunder was incredibly abnormal.

Her usually lazy, smiling eyes sharpened. She turned immediately to look at Shen Fuxin.

Shen Fuxin was currently sliding down the side of the cauldron, clearly in distress. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the figures of Ji Ting and Shen Fuxin overlapping. Ji Ting caught her in her arms and patted her back. “Spit it out!”

But the pill had long since turned to water. Shen Fuxin was unconscious, her body burning hot as she went limp in Ji Ting’s arms.

Back in the Alchemy Hall, Yandan stood up in a daze and walked to the outer hall where a storm was brewing.

Thunder and lightning struck down from the highest heights. Leaning against the vermilion gates, her heart suddenly raced. Several immortal attendants stood with her amidst the thunder. Yandan heard the clashing of armor and the sound of blades cutting through the clouds outside. Her fingers tightened.

Such a massive commotion  judging by the direction, they are heading for the Sky Reaching Lotus Pond.

If she hadn’t just witnessed Shen Fuxin swallow that pill, and if the timing of the Profound Heavenly Thunder hadn’t been so coincidental, Yandan might have also thought something had gone wrong at the pond.

After all, only one lotus remains that can connect all spiritual energy and purify the filth of the mortal world.

Yandan turned back sharply toward the unconscious, frowning Shen Fuxin in the projection, and she began to tremble. Years ago, there should have been eighteen seeds in the lotus pod, but the position for one of them was empty.

The remaining seventeen seeds had taken root and grown into lotuses around the Lotus Mother, but every single one had been harvested until they withered and died within ten thousand years. Now, only the Lotus Mother remained in the pond.

Yandan remembered when she had first ascended; her few remaining colleagues in the Department of Alchemy were already showing signs of death, just as she was now.

They departed one after another. The fall of every High God was like the fall of a whale; what they left behind was not decaying flesh, but spiritual power and cultivation. Yandan had stood in the rain formed by her colleagues’ dissolving bodies and was led by the last survivor to the Sky Reaching Lotus Pond; a place she had never been.

The colleague had said, “This is the place.”

Yandan would never forget what she saw in that pond for the rest of her life. Her colleague, however, seemed numb, crouching down to snap the shivering leaves of those lotuses.

With hands covered in blood, gripping tiny fingers that had been snapped off and skin that had been torn incompletely, the colleague had smiled at Yandan.

“Come here.”

That day, Yandan finally understood why the previous Alchemy Gods had grown haggard and perished one by one…

Facing all of this, she had slowly backed away. Yandan thought that from this day forward, she too would go mad.

The thunder continued to roar.

Ji Ting lifted Shen Fuxin, her brow furrowing as she sensed the spiritual energy and heat surging beneath the girl’s skin.

She couldn’t leave her here at the Sword Terrace; it might bring her even greater trouble. Ji Ting initially thought of using her spiritual power to float Shen Fuxin through the air, but the sight of a body floating in the middle of the night on the quiet Spirit Mountain would look too much like a ghost. Forget it.

Ji Ting sighed resignedly, picked Shen Fuxin up in a bridal carry, wiped away the residue in the cauldron with a wave of her hand, and turned to leave. Shen Fuxin was unconscious, but her breathing was steady and shallow, brushing against Ji Ting’s collar like the itchy scratch of a cat.

The golden communication leaf was caught between them. Yandan’s projection had disappeared, but the connection remained. Her voice sounded muffled but possessed a rare authority as she warned Ji Ting, “Do not speak of this to anyone.”

Ji Ting ignored her, striding across the stone steps with Shen Fuxin in her arms, leaving the lightning and thunder far behind.

By the time they reached the Green Chamber, Shen Fuxin showed no signs of waking.

Ji Ting placed Shen Fuxin on the couch. The moment she closed the door, it began to rain outside. The rain drummed against the mud, bringing out the cloying scent of grass mixed with water.

She looked down at the spiritual light flowing around Shen Fuxin. Countless tiny firefly like points of light merged into her body along with the splashing rain. Ji Ting could almost hear the sound of her growing; like a lotus struggling to sprout from a swamp.

The spiritual light gradually grew thick, completely veiling Shen Fuxin. Leaning by the couch, Ji Ting realized the girl was breaking through to a new cultivation realm and had entered a critical moment.

This scene was familiar.

Purple lightning struck from the heavens, illuminating Ji Ting’s cold eyes. She reached out and lightly touched Shen Fuxin’s loose hair.

This sense of déjà vu brought fragmented scenes to the front of her mind.

Ji Ting remembered someone lying on the Emerald Terrace years ago, hair disheveled just like this. A pair of pale green eyes, identical to Shen Fuxin’s, had curved slightly, filled with undisguised hatred and murderous intent.

She had been struggling to break through her realm while a clear lake; with no visible end; surged with dark undercurrents. A cold hand had climbed out of the water, grabbing Ji Ting’s ankle. Though she was looking up from below, her expression showed no desire for pity. Ji Ting had looked down at her in silence. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but the sound was raspy and harsh.

Long, sharp nails sank into Ji Ting’s skin, leaving bloody tracks. She struggled to force out a few syllables: “Take… away…”

The surface of the pool was covered in infant corpses, the color of blood reflecting the sky. Ji Ting saw clearly what the woman held in her palm.

It was round, like a bead of white jade.

The woman soaked in the pool of blood raised it toward Ji Ting again. This time, Ji Ting heard her clearly.

She wasn’t saying “Take me away.” She was saying, “Take it away.”