Fellow Daoist! That scoundrel has written a new book again.

A single decree to revere Heaven cost three lives.

Zhu Wuyao survived.

She looked at the small urn in her hand and wondered what should be engraved on her tombstone if she were to return to the earth one day.

In the world of cultivation, people die far too easily.

The two had fought not long ago, and she had divined Xu Yicheng's fate, knowing that he would die protecting the Dao.

Therefore, after escaping the order to "respect heaven and punish evil," Zhu Wuyao almost without hesitation used a "switcheroo" to transfer his own misfortune to Zhao Huaiyi.

If she could have killed Zhao Huaiyi on the spot, then a good person wouldn't have had to lose their life.

When the token's light dimmed and it teetered on the brink of collapse, it would be a lie to say that Zhu Wuyao had no idea how things would unfold.

She immediately realized that Xu Yicheng might step forward.

At the same time, Zhu Wuyao also thought of a way to stop it—stepping forward first and bowing three times to Heaven.

As things have unfolded to this point, she has practically watched Xu Yicheng go to his death.

Therefore, he remained unusually silent.

Zhu Wuyao buried the truth deep in her heart, pondering her own fate. Wei Zhang's dying words echoed in her mind—

"I'm waiting for you to be abandoned by everyone, waiting for you to die without a burial place."

Like a judgment, it is etched in my mind and cannot be forgotten.

She gazed at the distant mountains, the moonlight casting a sorrowful glow that allowed glimpses into the corners of the world shrouded in darkness.

The black mountains, like crushing boulders, were equally silent.

The silence was suffocating.

Zhu Wuyao stared for a long time, but her vision was not broad enough to see clearly life and death, or to see through the boundary between silence and noise.

One journey through mountains, one journey through rivers, let us proceed slowly.

He was like a passerby in the mountains and rivers, rushing into the torrent of fate.

But the real visitor to this place should actually be Zhu Wuyao.

A broken sword saved her life, but Zhu Wuyao knew that this sword should not have existed in the first place, and that she might... die now.

So why did Master Fang extend her life?

What is the meaning of her existence?

Zhu Wuyao dared not ask, for she still had unfinished business, and in any case, it should not come to an end at this time.

Once she finishes writing the story and finds Ji Yuezhang, she will have to investigate the truth and see what this particularly perplexing "fate" is all about.

She slowly breathed a sigh of relief, and then heard a voice in her ear:

"Thinking about life?"

Ye Xiaozhou always appears in various places. Her red dress stands out vividly in the darkness, like a thick, colorful bloodstain that tears through the gloom, as if her very existence is a challenge to heaven and earth.

Zhu Wuyao smiled and sat down on the edge of the cliff with Ye Xiaozhou.

"Yes, we are contemplating the brevity of life and the eternity of death."

"I have experience with that!"

Zhu Wuyao didn't believe him and retorted, "You sent someone to go on their journey to eternity?"

Ye Xiaozhou swung his leg and laughed:

"On the path of cultivation, the strong are respected. If I don't kill, I will be killed. Natural treasures must find a home, so why can't it be me?"

Zhu Wuyao's eyes were full of doubt, as he felt that this was a fallacy.

Before she could ask a question, Ye Xiaozhou continued:

“The opportunities and treasures in the world are limited. If you are truly kind, why not leave them there and give them to others?”

"If you take one more point, others will take one less. Isn't this also a kind of 'competition'? It's just that it's become a competition based on rules and morality, which makes it more glorious than mine."

"Life is about competing with others for profit."

“If you were truly kind, you would be penniless and your cultivation would have made no progress. Standing on the arena, Wei Zhang wouldn’t need any Heavenly Decree; he could pierce you through with a single sword strike.”

Zhu Wuyao paused for a moment. Although she had many things to say to refute Ye Xiaozhou, Ye Xiaozhou had a self-consistent logic and his own set of behavioral principles, and clearly had more reasons to say.

She decided to discuss ideological issues with Ye Xiaozhou less in the future, lest her wavering resolve be led astray.

After a moment's hesitation, Zhu Wuyao changed the subject, saying:

"Wei Zhang is an opponent worthy of respect."

"Ha, what you're saying isn't pleasant to hear. If you keep talking, I'll have to take you to the bottom of the cliff to see the scenery!" Ye Xiaozhou sneered.

"Failure to distinguish right from wrong deducts three points; being taken advantage of deducts three points; being self-righteous deducts one point."

"Choosing the wrong opponent deducts 90 points."

"So that's what 'admiration' means!" Ye Xiaozhou raised an eyebrow and smiled. "In my opinion, if someone is less skilled, they should be penalized completely, not even three points!"

Seeing that the topic had been successfully shifted, Zhu Wuyao continued:

"Murder?"

The transition to those three words was abrupt. Ye Xiaozhou nodded and said:

"Okay, who should we kill?"

"Should we start by killing that guy surnamed Wu, or go kill Wu Wei?"

Zhu Wuyao shook his head and said, "Those two are too strong. Not only do I feel no sense of participation, but a slight mistake could trigger a sect war."

"First kill Qu De, then travel south and see who else I can kill."

Ye Xiaozhou was slightly dissatisfied, then saw Zhu Wuyao hand over a storybook.

"The novel 'Sword Immortal Master' is already finished. I brought you a copy."

Zhu Wu asked Manager Li for two books, one of which was reserved for Ye Xiaozhou.

She had already made up her mind that after the sect competition, regardless of whether Zhaixinglou agreed or not, she would go down the mountain to travel.

Go south.

If Ye Xiaozhou had wandered around instead of staying put in the north, he might have run into her.

Ye Xiaozhou took the storybook and said:

"I never imagined that one day I would be bought off by a storybook."

Zhu Wuyao smiled; of course she knew that storytelling couldn't bribe Ye Xiaozhou.

Even if all the rarest treasures in the world were piled up in front of her, Ye Xiaozhou still wouldn't be able to bribe her if she didn't want to.

"When we first met, you tossed a coin. What did that divination mean?"

Since that calligraphy brush merged into her dantian, her fate could no longer be discerned by divination.

The act of handing over the storybook reminded Zhu Wuyao of the celestial observation technique Ye Xiaozhou had given him when they first met.

I remembered the copper coin that was tossed into the air.

Ye Xiaozhou raised his head and said:

"Ah, I forgot."

Zhu Wuyao looked at Ye Xiaozhou with a hint of suspicion, then lowered his head and smiled.

Good thing you forgot.

Not knowing its positive or negative aspects is a kind of luck.

She recalled Granny Feng from Chunhuitang, who had once said something similar—"Ignorance is a kind of luck."

The world of cultivation is completely different from the world she once lived in.

Human life here is too fragile, the disparity between the strong and the weak is extremely wide, and the grudges and hatred are mixed with too much anger and resentment. It takes a long time for a roar of unwillingness to be heard.

Some people look up to the heavens and down to the earth, living a life of heroic chivalry; others live with worries and struggles, begging for their lives to survive.

The boundary between life and death is so blurred, the gears of destiny are rusty, and the creaking sound when they turn makes one's teeth ache. That pain seeps into the bones, and so the soul rusts along with it, no longer showing its original face.

I hope Wuyao doesn't like it here.

She started to miss home.

A sigh came from the distant mountains, as if lamenting for someone unknown. It unfolded a scroll as dark as ink, covered with the footprints of those who stumbled forward.

That was a road of no return.