November 24th.
This day at the Dragonfall Grounds was destined to be anything but peaceful; the closer everyone came to leaving, the fiercer the struggle grew.
After the initial phase of strength growth, the battles in the latter half became a blood-soaked Shura hell.
Except for a few genuinely competent individuals, most were held back by others’ caution.
Most people in the Divinefall Grounds could only serve as cannon fodder, waiting to be slaughtered at any moment.
The bloody fighting had never ceased; even core heirs cultivated by the lower-ranked sects had seen two already perish without a trace within the Dragonfall Grounds.
The valley’s name seemed justified at this very moment—countless beings had died here, not just mythical creatures of ancient times, but numerous dreamers aspiring to become true dragons.
The name Dragonfall Grounds was well-earned.
One hour earlier.
At the edge of a bamboo forest, half-destroyed by the aftermath of battle, Su Qingshi struggled to rise, nearly collapsing back down again.
Fresh blood still stained the corner of the girl’s mouth; her once-beautiful dress hung in tatters on her body.
Since birth, this was the first time she looked so disheveled.
Su Qingshi stared at the fading figure on the horizon, gritting her teeth and snarling, “Su Liumeng, you only had a moment of grandeur and still dare to attempt fusing the Sixth Dragon Blood. I look forward to the news of your death.”
The thought that she might be misunderstood—that it was her fault that indirectly caused Su Liumeng’s demise—infuriated her beyond measure.
Forget it.
If she could witness Su Liumeng’s spectacular death, even if misunderstood, it would be worth it.
She wasn’t someone who grew up scared.
If someone fell in normal competition, others couldn’t openly blame them.
With her grandfather being the Grand Elder, she naturally enjoyed protection.
Su Qingshi was about to change into a fresh set of clothes when two imposing young men suddenly approached.
One was the core heir of the Sixth Sect; the other his loyal follower.
Having been spoiled since childhood, Su Qingshi was not willing for anyone to see her in such a sorry state.
Before leaving the bamboo forest, she had even considered concealing her defeat, so she could still be the undefeated prodigy she had always been.
But now, all her plans lay in ruins.
Ruined by these two people standing before her!
Her eyes burned with hatred and a trace of venom as she fixed them on the pair.
Su Jingjuan, seeing Su Qingshi’s disheveled appearance, suddenly formed a daring guess in his heart and was genuinely shocked.
He intended to pretend not to see her like this and quietly leave from the side.
But before he could avert his gaze, he met a pair of eyes filled with resentment.
“Where are you two headed?” Su Qingshi’s dark shadow fell over her lowered eyes as she said sinisterly.
Was it death?
Or—
Su Qingshi struggled inwardly.
If she let these two leave, the image she had worked on all her life would be destroyed.
Moreover, these two had already seen her torn and ragged state—how unforgivable.
“Su Qingshi, my brother and I are merely passing through; we didn’t see anything we shouldn’t,” Su Jingjuan bowed politely, wishing his eyes could bury themselves underground.
“Heh, just passing through, huh?” Su Qingshi sneered, clapping her hands. “Come over. I keep my word; I won’t kill you, only erase your memory.”
Her clenched hand suddenly relaxed.
At the last moment, the killing intent that had been coiled within her abruptly dissipated.
Su Jingjuan remained courteous. “Zimo and I are willing to cooperate, sister.”
After speaking, he gave Su Zimo a glance; the two showed no resistance, obediently standing before Su Qingshi.
At that moment, a loud voice rang out from the horizon, causing Su Jingjuan’s eyes to flash with panic.
Looking up, he met an extremely deep pair of eyes.
Inwardly, he cursed himself.
Just as he prepared to act, a pale white hand rested on his shoulder.
Su Qingshi smiled faintly and said, “Brother Jingjuan, are you unwilling to cooperate with your sister?”
Of all times, that damned voice from the horizon continued, making Su Jingjuan’s face grow paler by the moment, almost devoid of normal color.
“Brother Jingjuan, you left so hastily just now. I extracted half a bottle of Azure Dragon True Blood from the Dragon Corpse. I called you, but you wouldn’t answer, so I chased after you for a long time. Finally caught up—here’s half for you.”
The speaker was the core heir of the Seventh Sect.
Azure Dragon… True Blood?
Su Qingshi slowly licked her lips like a greedy beast.
Her gaze shifted slightly, and a new surge of killing intent arose from within.
The Third Sect controlled all clan resources, and she still somewhat feared their status.
But the Sixth and Seventh Sects were just fringe players on the edge of the Su family’s power center.
When had Su Qingshi ever been afraid?
The trial was a life-and-death struggle; if you lose, it’s just because you’re not skilled enough.
Fifteen minutes later.
Several pools of fresh blood and several disfigured corpses lay on the ground.
Su Qingshi held the half bottle of fresh blood in her hand; greed flickered in her eyes once more.
So far, she had only fused three Dragon Bloods.
She licked her lips again.
Her desire after defeat grew stronger and gradually turned into raging fury.
Even a mere Su Liumeng dared to fuse the Sixth True Blood.
Only the Fourth Dragon Blood, and she had never been weaker than anyone else—why couldn’t she fuse it?
Up until now, she still believed Su Liumeng’s victory was merely luck, daring, and reckless fighting—nothing too extraordinary.
Su Qingshi slowly raised her head, staring at the clouds on the horizon.
“What a pity, Su Liumeng. You brought this destruction upon yourself.”
“I’m just a little regretful that you can’t see with your own eyes the humiliation you’ll suffer next time after I’ve fused Dragon Blood and trample you beneath my feet.”
Su Qingshi snorted disdainfully, already sentencing someone to death in her mind.
Such a fool—things even Elders dare not try lightly, and you, a mere Sixth Realm, are acting like you’re courting death.
She casually threw a ball of flame, burning the corpses on the ground to ashes.
*****
Deep within the Dragonfall Grounds.
Su Liumeng gazed at the bottle of True Blood she had just obtained.
Although the bottle looked small compared to the large basin she’d gathered last time, the truth was quite different.
The bottle was a specially crafted Su family container that condensed the True Blood using the principle of fleeting mustard seeds.
If poured out, it would equal a large basin full.
Su Liumeng found a hidden cave, set up a defensive formation, and prepared to enter seclusion again.
This fusion carried obvious risks.
The moment she resolved to do this, she embraced the faith of facing death to survive.
Her future had never been in a greenhouse.
Like a blade of grass growing on a cliff edge since childhood, her future was forged through death-defying survival.
In the past, she had always valued her life and never gambled.
Now, having found the person she cherished, it was time to take a gamble.
Su Liumeng’s eyes grew resolute, a beautiful figure appearing in her mind.
When belief is truly divided finely—
A belief without an anchor is like a candle in the wind, ready to be snuffed out at any moment.
For Su Liumeng, Si Xinyan was that single anchor in her heart.
The girl, still adorably youthful but already with a hint of heroic spirit, suddenly drew a delicately crafted dagger from her dress.
The tenderness in her eyes vanished in an instant.
Then, without hesitation, she sliced open her wrist.
*****
November 25th, evening.
The courtyard was still filled with many mosquitoes swirling around the street lamp by the villa’s entrance.
I looked up briefly.
Perhaps…
These aren’t mosquitoes at all?
I cupped my chin and admired the night scene outside for a moment, then paced a few rounds around the villa.
Just as I planned to return to my warm little nest, I suddenly stopped as if sensing something.
I stared blankly toward the eastern horizon.
A creeping unease spread through my chest, making breathing increasingly difficult.
I gradually crouched down to the ground, hugging my knees, my eyes sinking into darkness.
Like someone ensnared by underwater weeds, no matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t shake the rising panic deep within me.
What’s happening to me?
“Mommy, what’s wrong?” Si Zhiruo, abruptly awakened, surrounded me with a faintly cool energy; invisible ghostly qi ravaged the ground.
In her anxious haste, she expanded her divine sense over half the city.
This was the first time since her minor breakthrough that she used her full power.
Within a second, a terrifying tide of divine sense surged like a wave, then quickly faded away, completely dissipating in Beiqing’s area.
This time, in her panic, Si Zhiruo made no effort to hide her traces.
That ordinary evening, countless powerful beings stationed in Jing City all felt what true despair meant.
As if at one moment, they had been singled out and stared down by some peerless terrifying creature, the overwhelming sense of fragility made them tremble uncontrollably.
Could such a strong being really exist in this world?
Most powerful beings entertained the thought, only to unanimously reject it as a mere illusion.
If it was just one person, maybe a hallucination.
But if countless others felt it, could it still be?
Stubbornness and wishful thinking are innate flaws in human nature.
Later, a master of divination concluded that no strong being had descended.
Instead, an unprecedented treasure was about to emerge in Jing City.
This news caused many self-proclaimed powerful cultivators to gather in Jing City.
But that’s a story for later.
Back to Beiqing campus.
Si Zhiruo, initially flustered, after confirming that no unseen enemy had attacked, invested her divine sense into Si Xinyan’s body.
There was no problem inside.
Si Zhiruo muttered to herself.
The next moment, her expression grew serious as she stared into the void ahead—or rather, just above Si Xinyan’s body.
Under countless rules’ response, Si Zhiruo saw faint, ethereal lines appearing in her vision.
Three of those thin threads connected to Si Xinyan were notably thick.
She focused on one red thread extending seemingly infinitely far away.
This thread was known as the Red Thread of Fate.
Two people who reciprocally love each other would have such a thread.
But most people simply couldn’t see it.
At this moment, the thread trembled continuously, as if it might snap at any time.
The Red Thread of Fate can break under only two circumstances:
First, one person loses interest.
Second, one party is about to perish.
Either case was bad news for Si Xinyan.
Her gaze returned to the crouching girl.
It is said that a pure enough bond allows one party to vaguely sense the other’s state, much like twins who have innate telepathy.
After confirming Si Xinyan was not secretly harmed, the countless threads before Si Zhiruo gradually faded.
At the exact moment they vanished, she suddenly collapsed to the ground, appearing translucent and ethereal for a second as if struck by a devastating blow.
Forcing oneself to manipulate the law of causality before truly breaking through to the Ghost Emperor realm inevitably carried heavy side effects.
Si Zhiruo wiped her mouth briskly, then stabilized her aura, asking as casually as she could, “Mommy, are you still feeling unwell?”
“I… I’m fine…” I took a moment, then said gravely.