Chapter 1

After three years of gathering herbs, I returned to Green-Pouch Valley to find my beloved master dead, his celestial bones torn from his body.

I soon learned that the one responsible was my ex-husband, the Celestial Lord. The same man who once tore out my heart had now taken my master's bones.

I had no choice but to abandon the peaceful life I had fought so hard to find. Dragging my longsword, I set out for the Nine Heavens. This time, I would settle all our debts, old and new, for my master's life, my child's life, and my own.

I returned to my thatched hut and stopped before the old writing desk inside.

On the brush rack hung an ebony folding fan.

I usually used it to fan the flames of my medicinal furnace. I reached up and took it down.

Auntie Qin, who had followed me into the hut, grabbed my wrist, her voice choked with sobs.

"Shuang'er, I know you are full of hate. I know you want to avenge your master."

"But Jun Che is a primordial god. How could you possibly defeat him with an ordinary fan?"

"I am begging you. Please, do not go."

"Your master said it was a worthy death, one life in exchange for the future of the entire valley."

But I knew the old man was lying.

One look at this desolate valley was enough to know the truth.

After Jun Che had drained him of all he had, those disciples ascended with his murderer, rejoicing without a single look back.

In this vast, empty valley, not a single person had stayed to gather even a handful of their master's blood-soaked earth.

Did he truly think this pack of selfish beasts was worth it?

Under my cold gaze, Auntie Qin's cries grew more desperate.

Terrified that I would rush to my death, she bit her lip to stifle her sobs and forced a smile.

"Shuang'er, let's not talk about this. You are home, safe and sound, are you not? As long as you carry him in your heart, his spirit will be at peace."

Hoping to dispel my murderous aura, Auntie Qin hastily turned and brought a steaming clay pot from the stove.

"Shuang'er, Green-Pouch Valley is a humble place with little power. Let us not seek revenge."

"Look, this is the Hundred-Herb Soup your master left for you. He brewed it with his own hands."

"He was always saying how you had endured the elements for three years. He said you would be weak and need something hot to eat when you returned."

I lowered my eyes. A few drops of blackened blood spattered the pot's rim.

I stared at the stains. "Was he still brewing soup for me while he was being flayed alive?"

Auntie Qin's hands trembled, her voice shattering.

"Yes. He protected the furnace with his life, terrified the heat would grow too high and make the soup bitter."

"He always remembered. My Shuang'er cannot stand bitter medicine."

My fingers, hanging at my side, went stiff.

That old man was so shrewd in his craft, yet when it came to me, he was so easily fooled.

I was never afraid of bitterness.

I simply found life meaningless and did not want to drink the medicine.

A century ago, he found me at the foot of a mountain, my soul fractured, kept alive only by the bitter concoctions he brewed.

I found it a nuisance and would secretly dump the dregs into the dirt.

When Master found out, he did not scold me. Instead, he ran ten miles to the nearest town to buy me malt sugar.

He coaxed me like a child, telling me a little sweetness would make the bitterness go away.

A surge of malice rose in me then, and I replied coldly that I did not like sweets and despised bitterness even more.

In the end, I could not outlast his gentle persistence and dutifully drank the medicine for a hundred years. But he took my petulant, offhand remark to heart.

And he remembered it for a hundred years.

From that day on, not a single bitter leaf ever appeared in my bowl again.

I took the pot from Auntie Qin's hands, seemingly immune to its scalding heat, and drank half of it in one gulp.

The other half, I poured out beside my master's bloody robes.

I wiped the corner of my mouth.

"Old man, the heat was just right. But it is mixed with blood, so it has a metallic tang."

"Try it yourself. In your next life, be more careful when you brew it."

That sentence completely shattered Auntie Qin's forced composure.

She collapsed to her knees, wailing.

"Shuang'er! There is no next life! His soul was annihilated. He is not coming back!"

Right. A god had acted. Naturally, not even a wisp of a soul remained. There was no next life.

I untied the wind-proof cloak from my shoulders, the one my master stitched for me thread by thread, and gently covered the glaring stains on the ground.

My voice was calm. "Auntie Qin, watch over this makeshift grave. Do not bury him yet."

"He always loved company. It will be too cold for him to lie in the ground alone. I am going to invite a few honored guests to join him."

Auntie Qin could not stop me, and could only cry and beg me to come back alive.

Holding the ebony fan, I set foot on the Celestial Ascension Stairway to the Nine Heavens alone.

With a flick of my wrist, the fan's ribs and surface elongated in a flash of blinding black light, transforming into a longsword as dark as ink.

A jet-black wave of sword energy crashed down like a bolt of lightning.

The magnificent Ascension Stairway shattered with a deafening roar. Jade stone splintered and collapsed, and half the Celestial Realm shook violently.

Countless celestial soldiers and generals poured out of the Southern Heavenly Gate in a panic, blocking my path.

Leading them was none other than my dear Senior Brother, Shen Xiu. Master's most prized disciple.

Dressed in the magnificent brocade robes of a celestial official, he frowned when he saw it was me and barked, "Su Shuang! If you have come to your senses and wish to swear fealty to the Celestial Lord, you should have crawled up here on your knees!"

"What is the meaning of this? Why did you destroy the Ascension Stairway?!"

I did not even bother to look at him. I just gripped my sword, my gaze locked on the depths beyond the Heavenly Gate, my voice as cold as ice.

"Tell Jun Che to show himself."

"Tell him an old acquaintance has come to call."