Xi Zhiruo drifted down lightly.
I caught my daughter’s weightless body, my heart aching so badly I could barely breathe. I hurriedly took out a handkerchief, frantically wiping away the bloody tears.
Xi Zhiruo forced a faint smile at me.
“I’m fine.”
The memories continued.
Her expression gradually twisted in pain as she sank into a span of five hundred years of recollection.
“What a perfect experimental subject.”
The First Evil Cultivator stared greedily at the soul sealed inside the container.
“What a pity.”
“This soul doesn’t belong to me.”
“But as long as I can use it, that’s enough.”
This was a “gift” she had obtained after traveling across multiple worlds, killing endlessly. She believed this stroke of fortune came from having killed enough people.
If she had not been an evil cultivator, if she had not slaughtered the innocent without restraint, how could she have encountered such a perfect soul?
Once that logic settled in her mind, her excitement only grew. With a wave of her hand, countless ghost cultivators appeared.
“Go kill more people for me.”
“No.”
“Kill entire cities.”
“I want this world emptied of all living beings—turned into a true ghost domain.”
“As you command, Master.” The second experimental subject revealed a chilling smile. A trace of violent aura leaked out, causing all nearby experimental subjects to lower their heads, including the third subject, whose status was second only to his.
The girl lifted the second subject’s chin with delicate fingers and slowly licked her crimson lips.
“As expected of my carefully nurtured treasure.”
“This kind of talent is rare. If not for the first subject’s soul being strong enough to constantly grow in resentment and spiritual strength, you would be the most powerful ghost cultivator under me.”
“It is all thanks to Master’s guidance.” The second subject lowered his head.
Her fingertips were stained red as they traced across his abdomen.
“What a tempting body.”
“Too bad you’re only a ghost cultivator. Otherwise, I’d definitely like to taste it.”
The second subject’s gaze grew heated before he lowered his head deeply.
“I obey your command.”
But the girl’s expression suddenly turned cold. She kicked him in the chest.
“And you think you’re worthy? Get lost.”
“Yes, Master.”
A group of ghost cultivators scrambled away in panic.
The First Evil Cultivator was always this unpredictable. No one could ever understand what she was thinking. One moment she could be laughing and chatting with you, and the next she could be holding your severed head while giggling sweetly.
That was what made her terrifying.
Even other evil cultivators feared her.
Because she did not only kill ordinary people—she killed evil cultivators as well.
She spared no one.
She killed on a whim, her moods shifting to extremes.
After everyone left, the girl held the small container, her gaze filled with obsession as she gently stroked it.
“Too perfect.”
“A flawless soul, rare beyond measure.”
“I really want to have a child with you.”
She was not joking.
There had already been cases where, upon seeing someone with exceptional talent, she wanted to have a child with them. When they refused, she turned them into specimens.
This way—
You wouldn’t be able to refuse anymore.
That incident had made her infamous.
Her personality was completely unhinged, far from anything resembling normal.
“Come, let’s begin the next experiment.”
Since both were of the same gender—and one was merely a soul—reproduction was impossible. There was even a trace of regret in her tone, as if she had missed out on something precious.
This time, she brought out a wriggling larva, squirming on a plate.
“It’s a bit small, but perhaps it can perfectly fuse with the soul.”
Without hesitation, she forced the struggling soul into it.
The result was obvious.
Another explosion.
She calmly wrote a note:
“Perhaps the physical body is not strong enough. What if I try a stronger vessel?”
“It might produce more reactions.”
“There is no such thing as possession in this world like in novels. Otherwise, I would have simply taken over a cultivator’s body.”
“What a hassle. If I still had the original body, I could record more data.”
The core issue was soul compatibility.
That was why her own body could not be lost.
It was her greatest asset—allowing her to transform her soul into a ghost cultivator state and later return to her original body, completing fusion instantly.
Because her physical body had reached the Seven-Origin Realm. Even after her soul left, it could remain intact for a thousand years. With the help of special formations, it could retain vitality until her soul returned.
She gripped the weakened soul and fell into deep thought.
She tried to recall how she had handled the corpses when she first found this soul.
Although this soul was a fusion of countless others, it must have originally belonged to a body—or rather, many bodies. Among them, one should be the most suitable.
Suddenly, she felt annoyed.
Damn it.
Why had she casually reduced the entire city to dust back then?
Not a single usable body remained.
The experiment reached a deadlock.
But that did not stop her.
Over the following long years, she began killing endlessly—specifically targeting cultivators, especially those with higher cultivation levels. Every time she killed someone, she tested the compatibility between their soul and the one she possessed.
If the original body was gone, she would find a suitable replacement.
She refused to believe that among so many, none would be even slightly compatible.
If she could not find one, it only meant she had not killed enough.
As long as she found a body that could barely sustain experimentation, she could continue and record valuable data.
And during the times when no suitable body was available, Zhizhi’s soul still found no rest.
The girl had no intention of sparing her.
Torturing the soul had become her favorite pastime.
When idle, she tortured it.
Before sleep, she tortured it.
When in a good mood, she ground it against the ground.
When in a bad mood, she slashed at it with blades.
For those hundreds of years, Zhizhi suffered endlessly. No one else had endured such torment for centuries even after death.
Suitable bodies did exist—occasionally.
After five hundred years of experimentation, the girl finally gathered enough data.
“That should be enough.”
With this knowledge, she now had confidence to achieve an unprecedented feat—to become the first being in history to break through the Emperor Realm, or at least approach it.
Over those five hundred years, she had established a kingdom—or perhaps a religion—in the Ghost Realm, where she was worshipped as an unquestionable deity.
Not only the Ghost Realm, but all six worlds had suffered under her.
No one knew how many she had killed.
Even countless years later, people still spoke of her in fear, calling her the First Evil Cultivator.
“You’ve lost your value.”
She gently touched the container, her gaze now devoid of warmth—only cold indifference remained.
“Even so, you don’t deserve freedom.”
“You were the one who stayed with me the longest.”
“So now, continue to accompany me… in sleep.”
She set up a formation to suppress the soul’s consciousness, then casually formed a massive sword array. At the bottom of the Sky Abyss, she established another formation to transform souls, before slowly lying down inside a crystal coffin.
“When I awaken again, I will be the only supreme being in this world.”
Darkness fell over the world.
From that moment on, the First Evil Cultivator perished beneath the Sky Abyss.