Chapter 40
At dawn, an unusual sight unfolded within the Wendao Sect.
Disciples flooded the grounds, each riding a Crimson Hoof Spirit Boar, their faces lit with unmistakable delight.
Even Lou Yuqing hadn’t expected things to escalate this far. Ever since she and her senior sister had proudly shown off their pig-riding “skills,” an inexplicable craze had swept through the sect like wildfire.
After her ankle healed, she returned to the Spirit Beast Garden—only to be stopped at the entrance.
“Sold out,” the disciple on duty said flatly. “All spirit beasts have been rented. Come earlier next time.”
Lou Yuqing stood there, stunned.
On her way to the Enforcement Hall, she saw them everywhere—Crimson Hoof Spirit Boars darting across the grounds as if they owned the place.
“…What have I done?”
Still, the spectacle didn’t last long.
It wasn’t that the disciples lost interest—far from it. The sect leader personally stepped in, ordering a full cleanup in preparation for the upcoming Seven Sects Joint Competition.
The event, led by the Wendao Sect, would host six other major sects: the Hundred Spirits Sect, Medicine King Valley, Cloud Cloud Sect, Haotian Palace, Star Pavilion, and Suyin Sect.
Naturally, it would be held here.
And naturally… allowing guests to arrive only to find spirit pigs stampeding across the sect grounds was less than ideal.
—
Lou Yuqing quickly learned how the competition was structured.
It was divided into two main divisions: Foundation Establishment and Golden Core. Qi Refining was considered too low-level, while Nascent Soul was too high—neither officially included.
However, the elders had come up with a compromise: an exhibition match.
Each sect would send their most outstanding Qi Refining disciples to compete as a prelude to the main event.
And today was the Wendao Sect’s internal selection round.
Lou Yuqing, Si Nidie, and Gu Buqi had managed to secure a prime viewing spot.
Si Nidie leaned in, her voice low but brimming with excitement. “I heard that after the tournament, Nascent Soul experts will spar for demonstration. That kind of fight is rarely seen.”
Lou Yuqing smiled. “That would be amazing.”
Her thoughts drifted—unbidden—to her master.
She had never seen him fight. Given his status and cultivation… just how terrifying would that be?
Before she could linger on the thought, a booming voice shattered the air.
“The competition begins! First match—Qu Tianlong versus Ruan Qingzhu!”
Two figures leapt onto the stage.
At the Qi Refining level, battles were simple and direct—no elaborate techniques, no room for wasted energy.
“Begin!”
Both moved at once.
Fire met fire.
A blazing serpent surged from Qu Tianlong, crashing head-on into five searing fireballs conjured by Ruan Qingzhu.
With a thunderous boom, the impact rippled outward, distorting the air.
Lou Yuqing blinked—and the scene had already shifted.
Ruan Qingzhu staggered back five steps, her footing barely steady.
Qu Tianlong… retreated eight.
His expression darkened.
She may have been forced back, but he had fared worse.
Their eyes met for a brief instant—then, without a word, they launched into the next exchange.
All ten arenas erupted at once.
Smoke coiled into the sky as spiritual light burst in flashes across the field. Cheers surged and crashed like waves, rising and falling without pause, until the entire plaza felt alive with noise.
The crowd pressed in from all sides—dense, restless, electric.
At the edges, white-robed physicians stood ready, while disciples from the Enforcement Hall maintained order, their presence a silent warning against chaos.
Shi Xiuxiu stood among the physicians.
At first, she focused only on her duties—treating minor injuries, moving quietly between the wounded, assisting wherever she was needed.
But gradually… her attention began to drift.
Her gaze lingered on the arenas.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Beyond medicine… there was something else.
Power.
Her master’s words echoed in her mind, steady and unyielding:
In the cultivation world, strength is everything. Even as a physician, you cannot neglect your cultivation.
She hadn’t truly understood them before.
But now, watching the battles unfold before her eyes—she did.
Strength was freedom.
Strength was choice.
Strength meant she would never again be confined to a single path.
Something invisible within her seemed to snap—and then quietly fall away.
Shi Xiuxiu smiled.
Not the small, restrained smile she wore before, but something brighter—freer, unbound.
Lou Yuqing caught sight of it and blinked in surprise.
The gentle, timid girl she remembered… was gone.
And somehow—this version felt better.
Suddenly, Si Nidie’s jade slip lit up.
A familiar voice crackled through: “Xiao Si, I have urgent matters. Go handle a case in the Enforcement Hall. I’ll review it when I return.”
“….”
Si Nidie froze.
Then her expression collapsed.
What was the darkest thing in the world?
Being forced to work—on your day off.
She turned to look at the bustling arena one last time, like someone bidding farewell to a beautiful dream.
“…Let’s go.”
Her steps dragged with visible reluctance.
Lou Yuqing and Gu Buqi exchanged a glance, then followed without complaint.
By the time it took an incense stick to burn, the three of them had arrived at the Enforcement Hall.
The interior was solemn and imposing. Disciples stood in rigid lines along both sides, faces expressionless, as if carved from stone.
The main seat sat empty.
Lou Yuqing was just about to take a seat below when Si Nidie suddenly grabbed her arm.
“Today,” she said, eyes gleaming with mischief, “we sit there.”
She pointed straight at the main seat.
Lou Yuqing hesitated.
Was this… really a good idea?
…
Yes.
Yes, it absolutely was.
She coughed lightly, masking her agreement. “Senior Sister, that seat looks a bit cramped. Can the three of us even fit?”
Si Nidie had already marched up. She gestured across the seat, measuring it with her hands, then dropped into the center with full confidence.
“No problem.”
She sprawled slightly, slapped both hands onto the table, and narrowed her eyes with exaggerated authority.
“Speak! Why have you not confessed the truth?!”
Lou Yuqing’s eyes lit up at once.
She darted down below, instantly slipping into character. “Your Honor! I swear I’ll never work overtime again! A holiday should look like a holiday!”
Si Nidie nearly broke character—but caught herself just in time, leaning forward with a stern face.
“Good. Since you understand, your punishment is to copy the sect rules one hundred times!”
“Fifty?” Lou Yuqing tried.
“One thousand.”
“Wait—one hundred?”
“Ten thousand if you keep talking!”
“….”
Off to the side, Gu Buqi watched in silence.
Very deep silence.
The kind that questioned everything he thought he knew about young people.
The enforcement disciples nearby trembled, some visibly struggling to keep straight faces.
Gu Buqi let out a long sigh and quietly took a seat below.
Youth, he decided, was truly incomprehensible.
Meanwhile, Lou Yuqing—now thoroughly entertained—leaned back in her chair and opened her system panel.
Time to enjoy some gossip.
Her gaze swept down the list.
No familiar names.
“…Disappointing.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she picked one at random, more out of boredom than expectation.
But just as she was about to take a closer look—a commotion broke out beyond the hall doors.
Voices clashed, sharp and overlapping. Someone was shouting.
Lou Yuqing’s eyes lit up instantly.
Si Nidie straightened at once, her earlier laziness vanishing without a trace. Around them, the atmosphere shifted—the entire hall snapping to attention.
“Who dares cause trouble here?” Si Nidie demanded, her tone carrying a convincing mix of authority and… improvisation.
A moment later, three figures were escorted inside.
Two women. One man.
Lou Yuqing glanced over—and paused.
One of them… she recognized.
The woman on the right kept her head lowered, long hair falling forward to veil her face. But beneath the strands, a red birthmark could still be faintly seen.
The girl from the Spirit Beast Garden.
The woman on the left, in contrast, was strikingly composed—her gaze cold, her expression distant, as if she stood apart from everyone else in the room.
And the man in the middle… looked utterly miserable.
He opened his mouth—then closed it again. His eyes flicked left, then right, as if searching for an escape route that didn’t exist, his entire posture radiating regret over every decision that had led him here.
He clearly wanted to speak.
He just… couldn’t.
Si Nidie cleared her throat lightly. “State your business.”
Silence.
The man forced a strained smile. “There’s no urgent matter. May we leave?”
Si Nidie frowned.
The commotion outside had been loud enough to shake the doors—there was no way it had been nothing.
And yet, he insisted.
She hesitated for a brief moment, weighing whether to press further—just as she was about to wave them off—Lou Yuqing’s inner voice suddenly rang out.
[So these two are sisters.]
[The younger one is Nangong Ying. The older is Nangong Wen. And that man—Chen Mujian—is Nangong Wen’s partner.]
[No wonder he looked so constipated earlier. One’s his lover, the other his sister-in-law—of course he doesn’t dare get involved.]
Chen Mujian: ?
Constipated?!
And—where did that voice come from?!
His expression stiffened as he instinctively turned toward Nangong Wen.
Her composure had cracked.
Just slightly—but enough.
She had heard it too.
A chill ran down his spine.
Slowly, he shifted his gaze toward Nangong Ying.
Her head remained lowered, her face hidden beneath the curtain of her hair—but her hands had tightened unconsciously, fingers curling into her sleeves, betraying the tension she couldn’t conceal.
He tried to speak—but the words stuck in his throat, as if something invisible had sealed them in place.
Nothing came out.
At the same time, Nangong Wen lifted a hand to her throat, her brows knitting faintly.
Silence.
The voice… knew everything.
Off to the side, Si Nidie’s curiosity sharpened instantly.
Sisters?
That was not something she had ever heard before.
And judging by their reactions… this was only the surface.
Meanwhile, Lou Yuqing continued scrolling through her system panel, completely unaware of the storm she had just stirred.
[The younger sister, Nangong Ying, was once a prodigy—brilliant, admired, unstoppable.]
[Then, overnight, everything collapsed.]
[Her cultivation vanished. No matter how she trained, she could no longer retain spiritual energy—like water poured into a broken jar, slipping away the moment it entered.]
[The older sister, Nangong Wen, had always possessed mediocre talent, her progress slow and unremarkable.]
[But later, she encountered a fortuitous opportunity. Her cultivation surged, rising in one leap to the mid-Foundation Establishment stage.]
A complete reversal.
A cruel twist of fate.
And yet, Nangong Wen felt no joy hearing it.
Years ago, it had been Nangong Ying who brought her into the sect—insisting on it, refusing to leave unless her sister came along. With her five mixed spiritual roots, Nangong Wen had barely met the threshold; without Ying, she would never have been accepted.
So after entering, she hid their relationship.
She worked in silence. Endured in silence.
Step by step, she carved out her own path—until one day, she chose to leave the sect behind entirely.
To risk everything.
To stake her life on a future that belonged to her alone.
She went to Yongding City, where the beast tide raged without end. There, she fought her way through blood and fear, teetering on the edge of death more times than she could count, surviving each time by sheer will.
And in the end, she obtained the reward that changed everything.
She survived.
She grew stronger.
She returned—carrying that hard-won joy, ready to share it with the one person who mattered most.
Only to find—her sister broken beyond repair.
Regret settled deep in her chest, lingering, festering, refusing to fade.
And so, she made a decision.
A plan.
To bring her sister back—no matter the cost.