In the darkness, time seemed to stand still. Xue Ji awoke from unconsciousness, unable to tell how much time had passed.
Naked, she shivered as a cold breeze brushed against her skin.
Gritting her teeth against the soreness wracking her body, she picked up the robe that had been laid beneath her.
Memories of what happened before she lost consciousness slowly resurfaced, filling her with disgust. Any sympathy she might have once felt for that person was now completely gone.
The once-pristine white robe was now damp, and Xue Ji knew exactly what stained it. Her face burned with humiliation as she pulled it on.
The moment she tried to stand, pain shot through her body, making her feel as if she might fall apart.
Damn it, she really went all out…
Xue Ji pressed her lips together, only to wince as the movement sent a sharp sting through her. She didn’t dare move recklessly, afraid of aggravating her other injuries.
‘My spiritual energy has recovered. I should just go back.’
The arcane incantation for a teleportation spell glowed blue in her hands, casting a faint light around her.
But just as the light pierced the darkness, Xue Ji saw her—Ling Xiaoxiao, standing right beside her.
Dressed in a blood-red ruqun, her skin unnaturally pale, Ling Xiaoxiao grinned with manic delight the moment their eyes met. The fiery mark on her forehead had darkened to a sinister crimson, its patterns wilder, making her entire aura terrifyingly unstable.
“Y-You—how are you here?!” Xue Ji yelped, falling back onto the ground in shock.
If only her legs would obey, she’d teach this ungrateful disciple the meaning of respect—
‘Wait, no. I’m not her master.’
The moment she hit the ground, pain exploded through her body, forcing a sharp hiss through her clenched teeth.
“Where are you going?” Ling Xiaoxiao’s voice was low, commanding.
“Home,” Xue Ji replied coldly.
“You’re not allowed.” Ling Xiaoxiao looked down at her, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“And who do you think you are?!” Xue Ji snapped, but the burst of anger only made her weakness more apparent.
Ignoring her defiance, Ling Xiaoxiao crouched down and yanked Xue Ji up, intent on locking her in another embrace.
But this time, Xue Ji—half-leaning against her—pressed the barrel of a silver-white pistol against Ling Xiaoxiao’s stomach.
“Don’t touch me!” The gun in her hand was Bai, one half of the Black & White Twins, renowned for its piercing power.
Yet even after Ling Xiaoxiao released her, Xue Ji couldn’t maintain her stance without support. The result? It looked as if she was the one clinging to Ling Xiaoxiao despite her protests.
“Oh? So Shizun wants to take the lead this time.” Ling Xiaoxiao remained still, letting Xue Ji lean against her.
Xue Ji ignored the taunt—this woman had no intention of letting her leave.
She pulled the trigger.
A bullet of pure white spiritual energy tore through Ling Xiaoxiao’s chest.
“That hurts, Shizun.” Ling Xiaoxiao’s expression was almost pleased, as if savoring the taste of Xue Ji’s energy.
Communication was pointless. Xue Ji silently gathered her spiritual energy, glaring at her.
“If this life’s memories are holding you back, then I’ll free you from them.” Ling Xiaoxiao’s voice dripped with obsession and excitement. “Anything unnecessary… should be erased.”
The flames of the Chongming Bird illuminated the area, revealing an intricate, oppressive formation centered around Xue Ji.
The moment the array activated, Xue Ji felt her consciousness being pulled in four different directions. Just maintaining her awareness took all her strength, forcing her to abandon the teleportation spell.
“What a pain…” With no other options, Xue Ji could only rely on Black & White Twins to fight back. The situation was dire.
“Do you like it? I prepared all of this just to bring you back to me.” Ling Xiaoxiao had shed all pretense, laying everything bare.
Xue Ji’s eyes burned with fury.
“I told you—our meeting was fate. Because of that, I never questioned your past.”
“I even grew used to you being part of my life. I started to feel something for you.”
“You fell with me from thousands of meters in the sky—was even the joy in your eyes back then a lie?!”
Ling Xiaoxiao averted her gaze, refusing to answer as she continued controlling the formation.
“ANSWER ME! If you were just toying with me, then why help humanity establish the Special Forces and the Pioneers? Chongming Bird!“
After leaving the ancient forest, Xue Ji had used her authority as a regional director to access classified files on the Chongming Bird. The fact that such critical information was available to someone of her rank told her everything—this was all part of some cliché game.
Ling Xiaoxiao’s response was icy. “None of that matters. Soon, you won’t exist anymore.”
“I was the one who stayed by your side all this time. Did you really feel nothing for me?” Tears welled in Xue Ji’s eyes, her voice thick with betrayal.
Ling Xiaoxiao paused—just for a second—before resuming her control over the formation.
“…I’m sorry. But you’re not my Shizun.” Her tone was final, as if she no longer knew Xue Ji at all.
The formation’s runes converged on Xue Ji, truly beginning to erase parts of her existence.
Those words extinguished something in Xue Ji’s heart. So it was all just my wishful thinking.
“Ugh—what’s… forcing its way into my mind?!” Xue Ji clutched her head, dropping to one knee. Yet even now, she remained calm, allowing the flood of runes to invade her consciousness without resistance.
Thirty minutes later, the formation completed.
“Xiao’er… Xiao’er, is that you? Master is in so much pain… Aah…!”
“Shizun! You’ve returned!” Ling Xiaoxiao’s voice trembled with unprecedented excitement as she rushed to Xue Ji’s side.
Xue Ji smiled brightly, tears in her eyes. “Yes. I’m back.”
Ling Xiaoxiao pulled her into a desperate embrace, as if reuniting after lifetimes apart.
“Your master will never leave you again. I’ll stay with you forever.” Xue Ji buried her face in Ling Xiaoxiao’s chest.
But Ling Xiaoxiao hesitated. “Shizun… do you remember my birthday?”
‘I really don’t…’
“No.”
Frowning, Ling Xiaoxiao pressed further. “Then what about the day we became cultivation partners?”
“No.”
Ling Xiaoxiao’s voice cracked, nearly shouting, “Then what’s my name?!”
Xue Ji burst into laughter, rising on her tiptoes to pat Ling Xiaoxiao’s head.
…She couldn’t reach.
‘This damn 155 cm height—did my past self never consider her disciple might turn rebellious?!’
Realizing the issue, Ling Xiaoxiao bent down slightly.
“Shizun always teased me like this… really.” Ling Xiaoxiao giggled, playfully thumping Xue Ji’s chest with her fist.
Xue Ji gently stroked her hair and whispered, “Child, I’m back.”
Ling Xiaoxiao blinked. “Yes… I know?”
“No. You don’t.”
The moment those words left Xue Ji’s lips, her grip on Ling Xiaoxiao’s head tightened.
“Asura’s Soul-Searching Curse! Let’s see what the hell is in that deranged brain of yours!”
“Wha—?!” Ling Xiaoxiao hadn’t expected the formation to fail after completion. Caught off guard, she couldn’t stop Xue Ji from activating one of the most brutal soul-searching arts in existence.
By the time she realized what was happening, it was too late—her consciousness was already under Xue Ji’s control.
This was a technique Xue Ji had learned from a cultivator in another world. At first glance, she’d recognized its extraordinary nature.
Ordinary soul-searching required the user’s spiritual power to far surpass the target’s, and even then, the risks were immense—one misstep could damage both souls.
But the Asura’s version had no such flaws. Using the power of samsara itself as its foundation, it could freely scour the target’s mind without permanent harm, as the cycle of rebirth would repair any damage.
The only downside? The Asura’s power Xue Ji had “borrowed” from that cultivator was finite—once used up, it was gone for good.
“Now… let’s see what you’ve been up to for the past thousand years.”