A Realm of Awe and Oppression

As if plummeting into solidified amber, Lin Xiaoxiao and Ye Jinghuang felt a sudden lightness in their bodies, instantly followed by a jarring, bone-jarring impact that resonated with an icy chill.

“Thump!”

“Thud!”

The two muffled thuds echoed, almost indistinguishable in their timing.

Lin Xiaoxiao reacted with lightning speed; the moment her feet touched the ground, she summoned the Tianya Divine Sword, its blade singing a clear “clang” as it plunged deep into the stone path, barely allowing her to steady her forward momentum.

Even with such swift action, the sheer force of the impact still sent her stumbling, and the long, flowing hem of her green robe brushed against the ground, acquiring a smudge of verdant mud.

Lin Xiaoxiao’s brows furrowed slightly.

This garment, famed for its imperviousness to dust, had always lived up to its reputation; yet, inexplicably, today it bore the tell-tale streaks of mud.

Subtly, she formed a hand seal, intent on cleansing the unexpected blemish from her attire.

However, the moment she attempted to draw upon the ambient spiritual energy, an indescribable, crushing weight—like being submerged a thousand meters deep in the ocean—suddenly descended upon her, threatening to pulverize her very being!

Lin Xiaoxiao hastily retracted her incantation, a wave of profound apprehension washing over her heart.

Ye Jinghuang, on the other hand, fell even more miserably.

Her heavy Imperial Crown Robe proved a cumbersome burden, causing her to tumble for a considerable distance before finally coming to a halt.

Her elaborate coiffure was utterly askew, with several strands of dark hair clinging haphazardly to her forehead, which was subtly contorted in pain; the intricate dragon-embroidered sleeve of her robe had torn, revealing the simple, unadorned undergarment beneath.

She gasped sharply, her exquisite features contorting into a pained grimace, on the verge of crying out; yet, as her gaze flickered to Lin Xiaoxiao beside her, she forcibly swallowed the nascent scream.

One tense, the other bewildered, they both lifted their heads, their gazes sweeping across their surroundings, their pupils contracting sharply at the breathtaking scene unfolding before their eyes.

Gone was the familiar sight of the valley entrance, with its swaying bamboo shadows and winding stone paths.

Instead, moonlight—a luminescence so pure it seemed to transcend the mortal realm—poured down like a silent column of quicksilver, gently enfolding the vast, awe-inspiring depths of the secluded valley.

The spiritual energy here was so incredibly potent it verged on liquefaction, each breath drawing in a refreshing, sweet coolness that permeated their very souls.

Exotic flowers and rare herbs quietly unfurled under the moonlight.

A babbling stream, resembling a shimmering jade ribbon, wended its way through the artfully sparse and dense bamboo grove.

At the tranquil heart of this scene, an exquisitely elegant bamboo pavilion stood in serene silence.

Devoid of superfluous ornamentation, each verdant bamboo stalk seemed to embody the primordial rhythm of the Dao (TL Note: The inherent rhythm or essence of the Dao, representing the natural laws and principles of the universe.) from the dawn of creation, glowing with a soft, warm luster under the moonlight, standing in serene isolation.

This was the core of Shuyu Valley, Jiang Jinyue’s dojo.

“This… this is…”

Ye Jinghuang’s voice trembled faintly as she struggled to rise, the cumbersome weight of her Imperial Crown Robe combined with her lingering pain rendering her movements awkward and slow.

A tableau that utterly defied her every expectation unfolded before her.

Though composed of seemingly ordinary elements, the scene exuded an unparalleled elegance and nobility, utterly distinct from any mundane garden.

The inherent pride of her imperial lineage shattered, struck down by a realm of far greater transcendence.

A profound sense of insignificance and reverent awe, stemming from the very core of her soul, instantly engulfed her.

Ye Jinghuang suddenly found herself understanding her elder sister—the one who claimed to have severed all worldly ties—and her burgeoning guilt towards Mo Tingbei deepened by several degrees.

Instinctively, she glanced at Lin Xiaoxiao, as if seeking some anchor of reassurance from this “Senior Sister”.

Lin Xiaoxiao did not look at her.

Every one of her senses was drawn taut as a bowstring, vigilantly sweeping across the eerily silent expanse of the valley.

The Nine Nether Blood, it seemed, vehemently detested the aura of this place, falling into such an unnatural silence that Lin Xiaoxiao almost forgot its very presence.

In her grasp, the Tianya Divine Sword emitted a low, resonant hum, its blade shimmering with a cool, clear brilliance that subtly resonated with the dense spiritual energy permeating the air.

Her gaze finally locked onto the bamboo building under the moonlight.

Master must be inside!

The thought ignited a fervent blaze within her heart.

The helplessness she had experienced at the valley entrance now transmuted into a profounder anguish and a trace of ineffable humiliation.

Senior Uncle Jiang, no… it was that old woman, Jiang Jinyue! What precisely had she done to Master?

If Master hasn’t woken up yet, do I really have to ask her for help?

The valley was steeped in a terrifying silence, broken only by the soft murmurs of the stream and the slightly accelerated rhythm of their own breathing.

This profound stillness, more chilling than any clamor, struck a deep dread into their hearts.

The air itself was permeated with Jiang Jinyue’s distinct and formidable aura, an omnipresent force that enveloped them like an intricate web of ice.

Lin Xiaoxiao could distinctly perceive an undeniable will woven into that aura—this was Jiang Jinyue’s dominion, and she was its undisputed sovereign.

Such overbearing control was akin to tearing a personal fragment from the very fabric of this world, claiming it solely for herself!

Ye Jinghuang finally managed to pull herself upright, ignoring her disheveled hair and torn robes, and instinctively took a few steps closer to Lin Xiaoxiao.

Within this utterly alien domain, charged with an almost divine oppression, even the “Senior Sister” who had just moments ago drawn a sword against her now represented the sole familiar point of reference.

She followed Lin Xiaoxiao’s gaze towards the bamboo building, her heart pounding uncontrollably.

Elder Sister… or rather, Jiang Jinyue, who claimed to have severed all worldly ties—was she truly within?

Mo Tingbei… what might he look like?

Just then—

The tightly closed door of the bamboo building slid silently inward.

No light bled from within, only a deeper, more profound darkness, as though the doorway connected to another, more abyssal realm.

An indescribable aura, a potent blend of cool, ethereal moonlight and an ineffable, profound pressure, slowly emanated from that deepening darkness like a tangible tide, instantly pervading the entire valley.

Exotic flowers ceased their gentle sway, the babbling stream seemed to freeze in place, and even the luminous moonlight appeared to dim by several shades.

Lin Xiaoxiao’s fingers tightened abruptly around her sword, her knuckles turning white from the exertion.

The sword spirit of Tianya Divine Sword, as if relishing the hunt, instantly intensified its hum, radiating a fierce battle intent mingled with profound vigilance.

Conversely, the Nine Nether Blood within her recoiled as if encountering its natural predator, howling incessantly in her ears, its urgent cries unequivocally urging her to flee.

Ye Jinghuang felt her knees weaken, almost collapsing to her knees again.

Though the oppressive force was not deliberately aimed at her, it felt like the very heavens were collapsing and the earth overturning, rendering it incredibly difficult for her—a “Foundation Establishment” cultivator newly embarked on the immortal path with a shaky foundation—to even draw breath, her soul trembling in its deepest recesses.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, barely managing to quell the primal, instinctive urge to prostrate herself upon the ground.

A figure, clad in simple white, materialized silently at the very edge of the shadows within the doorway.

The moonlight, as if reluctant to reveal more, merely etched the slender, elegant outline of her form, her face remaining obscured; only her eyes, startlingly luminous, pierced the surrounding gloom.

That luminescence was not of the mortal realm; rather, her eyes seemed to have congealed the chill of eons-old ice and the lonely expanse of a star-strewn galaxy—cold, profound, and utterly devoid of human emotion, as they calmly surveyed the two disheveled intruders in the valley below.

Her gaze swept over Ye Jinghuang without the slightest pause, as though she were merely observing an inconsequential speck of dust.

And that gaze did not linger long on Lin Xiaoxiao either.

It was only when her gaze flickered to the incessantly humming Tianya Divine Sword in Lin Xiaoxiao’s grasp that a fleeting, almost imperceptible flicker of displeasure crossed her features.

Jiang Jinyue gracefully lifted her pale hand, performing no discernible action, yet the Tianya Divine Sword fell into an eerie silence, as if its very essence had been effortlessly withdrawn from space itself.

Lin Xiaoxiao opened her mouth to speak, but an abrupt, mountain-heavy pressure descended upon the air, crushing her words before they could form.

Time in the valley seemed to solidify.

The stream flowed in utter silence, the moon’s ethereal glow suspended in stillness.

A voice, utterly devoid of worldly warmth, pure and cold as ice beads rolling across a jade platter, resonated with crystal clarity through the deathly silent valley, striking at the taut heartstrings of both Lin Xiaoxiao and Ye Jinghuang:

“The night is deep and the dew is heavy; trespassing in a forbidden area, disturbing a senior’s cultivation…”

The voice paused for a fleeting moment, its gaze seemingly piercing through Lin Xiaoxiao’s very being, recognizing the peculiar power residing within her, yet dismissing it with utter indifference.

“Do you know your transgressions?”