Within the Underworld, Shen Fuxin stared blankly at her surroundings, her expression dazed. She had been slain by Ye Shou, the Pavilion Lord of Jiyue, yet here she was again in the Underworld, her power reduced to the Ghost Emperor Realm. Had she somehow been reborn by chance? Or was everything before merely a trial before entering the Immortal Realm—a grand illusion?
Furrowing her brow, she suddenly felt something in her palm. Looking down, she saw a divine pill from the Immortal Realm resting quietly in her hand. Yes—that aura! It was an Immortal Realm pill. But why was it in her possession?
At that moment, she recalled Ye Yu’s words when they parted: “If I am gone, don’t stop waiting for me. Soon enough, I will find you again!” At the time, it had seemed cryptic, but now Shen Fuxin’s heart trembled. It was as if her husband had known she would fall—and even known she would be reborn—hence his unwavering promise to return. Though she did not understand how, she accepted his words as a solemn vow.
Without hesitation, she raced northward. She would wait at the place of her and Ye Yu’s first meeting, even if she had to wait until the end of time.
Elsewhere, within the Immortal Realm, Han Yuexi slowly opened her eyes and realized she was still inside her divine city. So the recent events had been but a dream? Despite her best efforts, she had failed to slay that god and had been killed. Pinching her brow in frustration, she felt both vexed and curious. Why had she twice seen that man in her dreams—once as a Demon God, now as a Ghost God? Though they were not the same person, the face was unmistakable.
Moreover, it had not been mere dreams, for items from those visions had appeared in reality—like that fine Hexin Jade. This time, however, nothing had manifested. Had something changed?
Frowning, Han Yuexi grew ever more curious about these uncanny experiences.
In the mortal Zhōngzhōu Continent, within Qingyun Sect, a rich aroma of wine permeated the halls. Many unsteady disciples trained in a perpetual daze, staggering as they walked. Elder of the Enforcement Hall, Li Nian’an, wore a constant frown. Recently, every disciple who flew by Qi—rather than using flying formation—was drunk, a dangerous situation bound to lead to disaster if unchecked.
Today, Li Nian’an brought the Sect Lord, Luo Ze, beneath the Five-Finger Peak to address the matter. Luo Ze reacted vehemently: “Elder Li, are you drunk and out of your mind? You want me to persuade Senior Sister Hongluan? Do you think I’m invincible, or that she can’t wield her blade? Believe me, if I set foot on that peak, I’ll be dead before my foot lands again!”
Startled by Luo Ze’s near-shout, Li Nian’an instinctively shrank back. Though the logic was sound, he refused to relent and called out, “Sect Lord, you are her junior fellow-disciple. Trust that Senior Elder Hongluan wouldn’t strike you dead, maybe, perhaps, possibly?”
Luo Ze forced a bitter smile. “Remove ‘maybe,’ ‘perhaps,’ ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) and ‘possibly.’ You know the situation: over ten of Five-Finger Peak’s female cultivators have ascended to the Celestial Realm, all of Ye Yu’s Dao companions—except Senior Sister Hongluan. She alone remains to guard the sect. To be blunt, her resentment is heavier than any ghost! If I went up to stop her drinking, I’d be chopped into sausages on the spot!”
Li Nian’an involuntarily drew a sharp breath. Indeed—under such circumstances, any man would lose his nerve. With her sisters gone to their husbands, Senior Sister Hongluan was left alone at the sect gate. It was no wonder she was furious enough to kill a junior.
“Sect Lord, the wine aroma is quite pleasant. Perhaps we should leave it as is? Let us be on our way.” Li Nian’an, desperation in his voice, attempted to slip away.
But escape proved impossible. A crimson figure leapt down from the peak, swaying with drunken grace before Luo Ze and Li Nian’an. “You two—why are you here? Come for me?”
Luo Ze trembled and stammered, “Senior Sister, we were merely passing by—just passing by!”
“Yes, passing by. We’ll leave at once!” Li Nian’an agreed, attempting to depart, only to be shoved back by an invisible force.
Hongluan swayed her wine gourd and downed another mouthful. “Alright, I know you’ve come to ask me to drink less and stop filling the sect with wine fumes. I agree to that.”
Li Nian’an brightened and asked cautiously, “You mean it? You don’t have to force yourself—”
Hongluan waved him off, murmuring, “Once I finish this last drop, it should be enough.” She then emptied the gourd in one gulp.
In that instant, a seven-colored beam of light tore through the clouds and shone directly upon her. White-day Ascension! After waiting so long, she had finally earned this chance. Tears of joy welled in her eyes.
A few days prior, she had realized why she couldn’t ascend: she had been forcing it. The more she rushed, the more it eluded her. Previously, she had lived in drunken revelry, rarely training. But to find Ye Yu sooner, she had studied day and night—unnatural effort that stripped away her true self. Now she resolved to be herself: she brought out every jar of spirit wine on Five-Finger Peak and drank her fill. In three days she’d finished them all, hence the sect’s pervasive wine scent. Though she sensed her ascension coming, she had told no one. Only now, seeing the Celestial Gate, did her anxious heart finally settle.
“Ye Yu, I’m coming for you!” she whispered, gazing southward toward the Great Qian Dynasty. “Li Ruowang, you’re the caboose now. Farewell, mortal realm!”
That day, under the watchful eyes of every Qingyun Sect disciple, Hongluan ascended in broad daylight. From that moment on, Five-Finger Peak stood empty—every cultivator had ascended.
