Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 5

After the turmoil, the fire on the sword platform had been extinguished, leaving the surroundings charred black. The area was silent, save for the faint crackling of two elixir furnaces still burning.

Shen Fuxin circulated the immortal energy within her body and felt an unprecedented clarity, as if all impurities and filth had been swept away. When she then assessed her cultivation level, she suddenly realized she had just broken through the lowest realm of the immortal world, the Mortal Immortal Realm, and reached the second realm, the Dust-Shedding Realm.

As the saying goes, “The sea of learning has no bounds, with diligence as the boat.” As a mortal, one must cultivate diligently; even after ascending to immortality, striving to become a deity still hinges on cultivation.

The immortal world’s cultivation is divided into four major realms: Mortal Immortal, Dust-Shedding, Heart-Seeking, and God-Listening, each further split into three minor stages. Shen Fuxin had been stuck at the first stage of the Mortal Immortal Realm for a full seven hundred years. Now, merely by igniting an elixir furnace and swallowing a single immortal pill, she had leaped an entire major realm in just a few breaths.

Apart from sensing her breakthrough to the first stage of the Dust-Shedding Realm, Shen Fuxin also noticed an inexplicable small crimson pellet forming within her body.

…Could it be the sword pellet forged in the furnace earlier?

She had no time to concern herself with others’ reactions and attempted to manipulate the small crimson pellet with her energy.

The moment Shen Fuxin’s spiritual consciousness touched the pellet, everyone heard several sword cries tearing through the void. The swords that burst forth were initially transparent as ice, then tinged with strands of vermilion starting from the hilt, and within a single breath, transformed into a terrifying blood-red.

Who should she test the swords on?

Sword Venerable Jiexia was too much of a pushover and held no grudge against her. Zhao Lanying, on the other hand, was detestable, but unfortunately, these swords stood no chance of getting close to her. As for the other minor immortals, there were too many, and she couldn’t recall any of them having a deep-seated feud with her…

Ah, there was one.

Shen Fuxin raised her head, and the eighteen spirit swords surrounding her seemed to obey their master’s command, all turning in unison to charge toward Yu Zhanxu, who was still staring intently at the elixir furnace.

The complex emotions in Yu Zhanxu’s heart were instantly shattered by the oncoming swords. She roared, “Shen Fuxin, have you lost your mind?”

Though Shen Fuxin’s appearance remained disheveled, she smiled gently and, for the first time, did not address Yu Zhanxu by her full name: “Senior Sister Yu, please be kind and yield to your junior sister.”

Yu Zhanxu’s innate Crown Prince Sword had just been released when Shen Fuxin’s address of “senior sister” stunned her for a moment. She stared blankly at Shen Fuxin, who was leaning against the elixir furnace, feeling an inexplicable ache and softness in her heart.

The title “senior sister” was a good one, stiff yet ambiguous. Yu Zhanxu had never realized that two simple words combined could stir such turmoil in one’s heart.

She clenched her left hand, the warmth of that Qinglian spiritual letter seemingly still lingering in her palm.

That day, in a fit of anger, she had tossed the letter to Shen Fuxin. But on her way back, Yu Zhanxu couldn’t stop thinking: if she had secretly read that marriage contract letter before arriving, if she had burned it, destroyed it, torn it to pieces.

Would the person softly calling her “senior sister” in the red-curtained bed in the future have been Shen Fuxin?

In that brief moment of distraction, Shen Fuxin’s swords had already closed in on Yu Zhanxu.

However, Yu Zhanxu’s cultivation had already reached the second stage of the Heart-Seeking Realm. With a mere graceful sweep of her Crown Prince Sword, she repelled most of Shen Fuxin’s sword intent, leaving only one sword charging relentlessly toward her face with a life-or-death determination!

Left with no choice, she was forced back a step by the sword and caught the small blood-red blade with her bare hand.

At the moment Yu Zhanxu’s fingers closed around it, the small sword shattered with a crisp, icy crack, dissolving into a pool of crimson meltwater that slipped through her grasp.

Yu Zhanxu flicked her hand, revealing not even a scratch on her palm.

A murmur rippled through the students. Yu Zhanxu was renowned for her exceptional talent; aside from Sword Sovereign Jiexia and Zhao Lanying, no one on this sword platform could surpass her. That Shen Fuxin had managed to evade Yu Zhanxu’s perception with a single sword strike, forcing her back a step, was already remarkable.

Amid the hushed whispers, Zhao Lanying lowered her gaze, quietly observing Yu Zhanxu’s unblemished palm for a few moments before looking away.

Shen Fuxin hadn’t expected to injure Yu Zhanxu despite their difference in cultivation. Having learned how to manipulate her inner golden core, she withdrew her sword intent: “Thank you for the guidance, Senior Sister.”

Yu Zhanxu instinctively reached up to touch the crimson flower tucked behind her ear, pursed her lips in rare silence, and turned away with her hands clasped behind her back, avoiding Shen Fuxin’s direction.

The atmosphere grew strained, and the sword platform fell into silence once more, broken only by the soft rustling of the yin-yang fishes’ fins parting the clouds as they swam.

It was time for Sword Sovereign Jiexia to intervene.

While mentally drafting her resignation letter convinced she couldn’t endure another day of teaching she approached Shen Fuxin and cast a healing spell, at least stopping the bleeding and restoring her presentable appearance.

Shen Fuxin remained silent but refrained from releasing her newly acquired sword intent again.

Sword Sovereign Jiexia sighed inwardly. Glancing at the silent Zhao Lanying and the seemingly composed Shen Fuxin, she mustered her remaining dignity to mediate: “Fuxin, your injuries haven’t fully healed. Perhaps you should return to the Qing Room to recuperate today. We can discuss sword training another time.”

Shen Fuxin’s expression remained calm, even smiling as she replied, “How considerate of you, Sword Sovereign. However, I wish to descend the mountain today to purchase some necessities. I hope you’ll grant me passage through the barrier.”

Sword Sovereign Jiexia hesitated. “The Green Emperor’s Spirit Mountain belongs to your master. I don’t hold the authority to bypass its seals.”

Shen Fuxin turned to Zhao Lanying, her expression unchanged. “Master?”

Hearing this address, Zhao Lanying’s tense posture seemed to relax slightly. She released her grip, allowing the natal sword she’d been clutching to vanish into nothingness, yet she remained motionless and silent.

Moon-white cloud silk draped over Zhao Lanying, shimmering with ethereal luminescence under the light. Shen Fuxin watched her, recalling how she’d worn crimson silk in a past life, and softly continued, “I have something to discuss with you, Master. If you have time, would you accompany me partway?”

Zhao Lanying neither consented nor refused, merely raising a hand to dismiss the yin-yang fishes beside her, twisting them into the same barrier passage they’d arrived through. The two departed the sword platform one after the other, leaving the cloud-veiled immortals far behind.

Yu Zhanxu instinctively took two steps forward in pursuit but halted abruptly.

Her perpetually arrogant eyes lowered, fixing on a conspicuous drop of blood staining the white jade tiles.

As Sword Sovereign began the lesson, Yu Zhanxu paused briefly before following the other students forward. Her shoe sole smeared over the blood droplet, erasing the crimson stain completely. Only then did she slowly unclench her left hand, which had been clenched behind her back all along.

The place where Shen Fuxin’s sword intent had grazed no longer bled, leaving only a faint, itchy, pale scar.

–

On the path dotted with tiny, pale flowers, Shen Fuxin lifted her gaze to the clear blue sky, using almost all her strength to suppress the surging urge to kill.

Zhao Lanying walked ahead of her, seemingly defenseless, but Shen Fuxin knew better Zhao Lanying was shielded by nearly a hundred layers of protective immortal talismans, not to mention the Qingdi Sword within her, revered by immortals as the foremost among all blades.

If she were to break ties with Qingdi Ling Mountain now, her family would surely send someone after her…

Though she possessed talent, her recent test with Yu Zhanxu had made it clear that her strength was still insufficient.

At least not enough to act recklessly.

With that thought, Shen Fuxin lowered her eyes and tried once more to circulate the newly formed crimson core within her. Yet, no matter how she urged it, the core remained unresponsive.

She set aside her thoughts just as Zhao Lanying abruptly halted.

They now stood facing a pristine lake halfway up the mountain, its surface covered in white flowers Shen Fuxin did not recognize, along with scattered broken branches and fallen leaves floating atop the water.

She was somewhat surprised. Everyone knew Zhao Lanying prized cleanliness, unable to tolerate even a speck of dust, how had she fallen so low as to bring her here to look at such a mess?

Unaware of Shen Fuxin’s thoughts, Zhao Lanying turned around, her voice light and cold like falling snow: “You received the contract.”

Shen Fuxin tilted her head, adopting the clingy demeanor from her past life, and said softly, “So, Master truly holds me in her heart. Has an auspicious date already been chosen?”

Zhao Lanying glanced at the gentle facade Shen Fuxin always presented in front of her, her fingertips twitching slightly. Instead of responding, she furrowed her brow and turned to gaze at the dilapidated lake, refusing to look at her. “It has been set for the fifth day of the sixth month.”

Seeing how even Zhao Lanying’s disdain was restrained and aloof, while she had not hesitated to suppress her with sword intent earlier, Shen Fuxin couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. Deliberately, she took a few steps forward, forcing Zhao Lanying to the edge of the lake, then feigned unease and said, “Master, this disciple truly has a question that troubles me.”

“Speak.”

“Yesterday at the Wuliang Dharma Platform, and today at the Sword Platform, your words and actions made your stance clear. May I ask, since you clearly despise me, why agree to form a contract with me?” Shen Fuxin wiped the corner of her eye. “I am foolish and fearful. Though I admire you deeply, I worry that this contract might tarnish your pristine reputation…”

A breeze swept by, rustling the withered leaves across the lake. Zhao Lanying stared at the leaves emerging from the mud and suddenly said, “Six hundred years ago, at the Ruoshui Lotus Pond.”

Six hundred years ago, at the Ruoshui Lotus Pond?

Shen Fuxin thought for a moment and recalled that there was indeed such an event.

Back then, she was still young. Her adoptive father had earnestly told her that there was a sword immortal named Zhao Lanying, around her age but infinitely more brilliant, already showing the potential to become a deity. If she could befriend her, it would be a great service to the family.

The Ruoshui Lotus Pond was vast. Shen Fuxin spent the afternoon drifting on a black-canopied boat, picking countless lotus flowers and peeling endless lotus seeds. Finally, as the sun set behind the western hills, she spotted a small dark green boat.

On the boat, attended by several handmaidens and minor immortals serving tea, was an immortal clad in moon-white robes. His figure was slender and elegant, his countenance as radiant as the moon. Shen Fuxin stared in a daze until the elder attendant tasked with watching her at home secretly pinched her arm. The pain nearly brought tears to her eyes, yet she instinctively offered the immortal a flattering smile.

The immortal seemed not to notice her and paid her no mind, instructing others to steer the small boat away to avoid a collision.

It was only later that Shen Fuxin realized this was her first encounter with Zhao Lanying. Centuries and millennia passed, yet Zhao Lanying remained exactly the same.

In her past life, Shen Fuxin couldn’t quite say whether she liked or disliked Zhao Lanying. Only on the rare occasions when she failed to draw her sword would she recall that ingratiating smile from back then, and for a fleeting moment, she would feel a pang of self-disgust.

Shen Fuxin gazed at the broken surface of the pond, suddenly clenching her fingertips tightly, yet she smiled as softly as she had all those years ago. “So, Master still remembers.”

So it wasn’t a chance encounter born of my one-sided longing, but a prearranged inspection of goods.

Zhao Lanying stood with her back to Shen Fuxin, staring at the pond filled with withered branches and fallen leaves. Hearing Shen Fuxin’s words, she fell silent for a moment before suddenly asking, “Shen Fuxin, will you hate me?”

“No,” came Shen Fuxin’s cheerful voice. “I admire you, Master. Do you not believe me?”

Receiving such a reply, Zhao Lanying raised her hand and traced an immortal decree, releasing the barrier around Qingdi Ling Mountain.

“Go quickly and return swiftly,” she said.

Shen Fuxin acknowledged the command, stepped through a shimmering halo that appeared before her, and vanished from Zhao Lanying’s sight in an instant.

Long after she had left, Zhao Lanying remained standing in place, unmoving.

She lifted her hand and glanced at the pad of her right thumb, where the blood oath had been drawn yesterday. The wound had yet to heal, and touching it brought an itching, painful sensation, as if ants were gnawing at it.

Hesitating for a moment, Zhao Lanying brought the injured fingertip to her lips and gently pressed it.

Today at the sword platform, seeing Shen Fuxin in her green robes had stirred up emotions she had long suppressed, nearly causing her to lose control. That contract should not have been written at this time, nor should she have indulged her selfish desires by deliberately summoning Yu Zhanxu to deliver it.

A strange, unprecedented sense of satisfaction suddenly welled up in her heart.

…Had she secretly opened and read that contract? What expression did she wear when she read it? Did those eyes, so often fixed on Shen Fuxin, weep with hatred because of it?

At this thought, Zhao Lanying abruptly snapped back to reality.

Before she could sever the swiftly growing threads of affection, the once desolate pond, filled with withered branches, suddenly burst forth with new sprouts. Green lotus leaves and pink lotus flowers intertwined in a vibrant display.

Zhao Lanying bent down and reached out to pluck a newly bloomed pink lotus.

The lotus seemed as if it had drunk wine, leaning delicately against a lotus leaf in a display of tender weakness and shy charm. As she broke it, sap splattered between her fingers. Zhao Lanying lowered her eyes slightly, her still itching and aching fingertips suddenly clenching tightly around the flower’s stamen until the once pristine blossom was utterly ruined. Only then did she release it, letting the lotus sink back into the muddy depths of the pond.

The fifth day of the sixth month, three months from now.

It was time to prepare the wedding gown.