The underground river ran deep and silent, a vein of ink cutting through the earth.

Several crocodilian beasts lurked in the pitch-black currents, their crimson eyes gleaming like submerged embers. Yet, they failed to detect the figure slipping past them.

Shen Xian wore a silver mask that concealed his features entirely. He had suppressed his aura to the absolute limit, moving like a wisp of breeze skimming the water’s surface—not even a ripple betrayed his passing.

Half an hour later, the river widened into a massive subterranean cavern.

Ancient trees twisted toward the stone ceiling, their roots clutching bizarre rock formations that exuded an aura of primordial desolation.

Shen Xian’s Divine Sense, honed to the Soul Transformation level, spread out like an invisible tide. Instantly, he detected several presence signatures hidden in the darkness.

Cultivators at the peak of the Golden Core Realm.

They were scattered throughout the shadows, holding their breath, waiting. Like vultures, they watched the center of the cavern with tacit understanding, biding their time for the scraps.

Shen Xian drifted into the shadows, leaning against a stone pillar. He tapped the scabbard at his waist with a lazy finger and looked toward the dilapidated altar in the center of the clearing.

Two figures stood there, facing each other in a tense standoff.

On the left stood Wei Qingshan, the Senior Brother of the Divine Machine Sect.

Dressed in azure robes and holding a folding fan made of white jade, his features were as gentle and refined as polished stone. A faint, measured smile played on his lips, presenting an image of cultured elegance. Only the occasional flicker of sharpness in his eyes betrayed the terrifying depth of his cultivation.

Opposite him stood Ye Qingxian.

She was clad in a gown of gold and crimson, a striking contrast to the gloom. Her brows were like distant mountains, her eyes like cold stars reflected in a frozen lake. The outer corners of her eyes tilted slightly upward, carrying an innate air of regal aloofness.

A simple golden hairpin, etched with faint immortal patterns, held her lustrous hair in a high chignon. Around her slender neck, a necklace of Phoenix Blood Crystals sparkled with inner fire.

At her waist hung a jade pendant carved in the shape of a phoenix. It emitted the faint, scorching aura of Nirvana True Fire, standing out starkly in the dim cavern.

That low-grade magical treasure had finally completed its transformation.

In the faint glow of the river, Shen Xian’s gaze sharpened behind his mask.

That gold and crimson figure remained as dazzling as he remembered. Her every movement radiated an inviolable dignity that demanded submission.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a slight curve. After all these years, this woman was still so… eye-catching.

In the clearing, Wei Qingshan gently fanned himself, his smile perfectly measured.

“Fairy Ye, that Spirit Marrow is truly vital to my cultivation. I am willing to exchange it for a treasure of equal value. I beg your indulgence.”

His tone was gentle, but a sharp glint lay hidden beneath the surface. He restrained the pressure of his half-step Nascent Soul cultivation, feigning sincerity while maintaining a veneer of decorum.

“Scram.”

The word left Ye Qingxian’s lips cold as glacial frost.

Spiritual light blazed around her. Her gown billowed without wind, and the golden hairpin in her hair gleamed with a lethal edge.

Though she had only recently entered the Golden Core Realm, the aura she exuded made the hidden observers in the darkness hold their breath.

Shen Xian, still leaning against the pillar, almost laughed.

Saves me the trouble, he thought. She has never been one for empty pleasantries.

Since she had already made her stance clear, she was confident. He just needed to watch.

His gaze swept over the restless shadows nearby, and his smile turned cold. If those two started fighting, this bunch of rats would undoubtedly try to reap the spoils.

He might not need to intervene in the main fight, but he would handle the aftermath. At the very least, he would ensure these petty opportunists didn’t disturb her.

He looked back at the center of the cavern. He was curious. After all these years apart, just how far had the Empress’s strength progressed?

Wei Qingshan showed no anger at the insult. He merely smiled, the motion practicing and hollow.

“Fairy Ye, treasures belong to the capable. I am merely negotiating with sincerity.”

He abruptly snapped his fan shut. A layer of frost coated his eyes.

“If you are unwilling, do not blame this Wei for bullying the weak.”

“Ha.” Ye Qingxian let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Bullying the weak? You?”

She raised a hand.

The phantom roar of a Divine Phoenix surged forth, causing the very air to tremble. Her stance was absolute.

Wei Qingshan’s gaze cooled completely.

He had not wished to break decorum with her. Her background was extraordinary, and if she had secured the Spirit Jade Marrow, she likely possessed powerful methods. A fight to the death was not conducive to his exploration of this battlefield.

But he had no choice.

That Spirit Jade Marrow was the key to his breakthrough to the Nascent Soul Realm. If he missed this opportunity, his path to immortality would stagnate.

For a prodigy who aspired to scale the heavens, stagnation was worse than death. He would not let her walk away.

Even if it meant abandoning the rest of the exploration, he would take it!

Wei Qingshan flicked his wrist.

“A pity.”

His left hand formed a seal, while his right hand snapped the fan open once more.

Click. Whir.

Intricate mechanisms on the fan’s surface shifted. Hundreds of silver needles shot forth like a storm of pear blossoms.

The needles did not scatter. Instead, they assembled mid-air, clinking together to form thirty-two humanoid puppets. Each puppet wielded a different weapon, their formation subtly aligning with the patterns of the celestial constellations.

This was the true inheritance of the Divine Machine Sect—calculating the secrets of heaven through the art of mechanics.

Ye Qingxian’s eyes narrowed.

The golden hairpin flew from her hair, tracing a mysterious arc through the air. Her pale hands formed a seal.

Nine streaks of gold and crimson sword energy encircled her, each one entwined with the Nirvana True Fire. They illuminated the dim cavern like miniature suns.

“Break.”

At her command, the golden hairpin multiplied into thousands of phantom blades, sweeping out like a phoenix spreading its wings.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The puppet formation disintegrated under the barrage. Limbs and gears rained down.

However, seven puppets broke through the defensive line, rushing toward her.

Wei Qingshan smiled and flicked his fan again.

“Fairy Ye truly lives up to her reputation,” he said, his tone as cultured as if they were discussing tea. “However…”

The remaining seven puppets suddenly glowed red.

BOOM!

They self-destructed, transforming into a cloud of poisonous mist that engulfed her.

Within the mist, the true killing move revealed itself. Nine dragon-eye-sized calculation beads hovered in the void, each engraved with the ancient characters for “Heavenly Secret.”

“The Nine Luminaries Heavenly Secret Array. I invite the Fairy to critique it.”

The beads spun, and the spiritual energy of the entire cavern was sucked into a vortex.

This was the terror of the Divine Machine Sect’s Senior Brother: using arrays to trap the enemy, and heavenly calculations to exhaust all avenues of survival.

Ye Qingxian frowned.

She raised a finger and lightly touched the center of her brow.

The vermilion mark on her forehead bloomed with radiant light. Behind her, the phantom of a fire phoenix manifested, its clear, melodious cry echoing through the stone chamber.

“Nirvana.”

The word was spoken softly, yet it carried the weight of an imperial decree.

Gold and crimson flames ignited around her body. Wherever the fire passed, the poisonous mist hissed and evaporated. The spinning calculation beads began to tremble violently.

Wei Qingshan’s expression finally cracked.

He hurriedly formed seals to stabilize the array, fine beads of sweat appearing on his temples.

In the shadows, Shen Xian watched with keen interest.

Impressive, he noted.

The Empress’s Divine Phoenix Spirit Body was extraordinary. She was only at the initial stage of the Golden Core Realm, yet she was unleashing power comparable to a Nascent Soul cultivator.

If I had to fight her right now, even I might have a headache.

Shen Xian smiled wryly behind his mask. This reincarnator’s foundation is deeper than mine, even with my cheat system. The System really needs to step up its game.

Suddenly, the battle shifted.

Ye Qingxian’s golden hairpin wove a net of light in the air. She bit her fingertip, and a single drop of essence blood fell into the fire phoenix’s form.

The phantom swelled dramatically, its wingspan expanding to over ten feet.

Most astonishingly, within those flames, a faint, terrifying aura began to surface.

It was an aura that caused the Li Fire True Seal between Shen Xian’s brows to thrum in resonance.

A Law Origin?!

Shen Xian’s heart shook.

Law Origins were powers that only Soul Transformation Venerables were qualified to touch. They contained the purest force between heaven and earth.

His own Li Fire True Seal was a legacy from his sect’s patriarch—a borrowed power. But Ye Qingxian’s Law Origin stemmed from her own soul.

To wield the power of a Venerable at the Golden Core stage…

Ye Qingxian truly lived up to her past life. She was a monster.

In the center of the cavern, the fire phoenix spread its wings and pounced.

Wei Qingshan’s face went pale. Gritting his teeth, he summoned a massive umbrella—the Thousand Machine Umbrella.

The umbrella spun, releasing a curtain of radiant rain. He poured his half-step Nascent Soul cultivation into it, desperate to halt the encroaching flames.

A cold light flashed in Ye Qingxian’s eyes.

The fire phoenix let out a piercing cry, its brilliance doubling.

CRACK!

A deafening boom echoed as the Thousand Machine Umbrella shattered into fragments of light.

Wei Qingshan grunted, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He staggered back several steps, his elegant composure in ruins.

He looked up at the graceful silhouette amidst the flames, his eyes filled with undisguised shock and wariness.

Ye Qingxian hovered in mid-air, her gold-and-crimson dress swirling like living fire. She looked down at him, her expression imperious.

“With such meager skill,” she said, her voice cool and clear, “you dare speak to me of capability?”