Life in the Joyous Union Sect was not as easy as she had imagined.
She had agreed to the old palace lord back then simply to use the Joyous Union Palace as a springboard, to escape first and worry about the rest later.
No matter how deplorable the Joyous Union Sect was, it was still better than staying in the Cloud Mountain Song Clan and continuing to serve as Song Qian’s cauldron.
Song Qian was the type to use a cauldron to entertain guests, after all. In the eyes of cultivators, cauldrons were not considered people—just objects that could be casually transferred.
And among them, some cultivators had lived too many years and had lost interest in ordinary romance between men and women. They could only get excited through extremely cruel abuse, often leaving blood flowing everywhere, nearly amounting to torture.
By the time those cauldrons reached the day they were drained dry and perished from the loss of yin essence, many were simply discarded in the wilderness.
Even more young boys and girls went mad before they reached that point.
Liu Qiao’e did not want to die. She was ambitious enough, and bold enough, to survive by following the old palace lord.
Until she fell into the hell of the Joyous Union Palace once more. At that time, the Joyous Union Palace was not yet the fence-sitter that walked the line between righteous and demonic under her future rule.
At that time, the Joyous Union Palace was simply the Demonic Sect.
The dark years she had spent in the Cloud Mountain Song Clan had not yet extinguished her humanity and conscience.
Though she had never read books, her simple values still let her know right from wrong, good from evil. People should choose the good and follow the righteous—absolutely not like the Joyous Union Palace, where rape and plunder among fellow disciples was rampant, and forcing good women into prostitution was commonplace!
With her innate extreme yin cauldron constitution, she drew the covetous eyes of her fellow disciples as soon as she entered the palace.
The old palace lord demanded that she submit willingly and never backed her up.
At first, they still pretended to court her properly.
Later, it turned into threats, intimidation, drugs, beatings, and scolding.
She had once bitterly cursed the heavens’ injustice.
Thieving heavens, why had they cast her into such a Demonic Sect!
Why could others join famous righteous sects and become the great heroes from dramas and storybooks?
Why did she have to fall into a stinking puddle of mud!
She had never harmed anyone or bullied the weak.
She hated these demonic fiends and wished she could become a great hero from the stories, sword in hand, slaying demons and exorcising evil, killing every last goblin and ghoul, sweeping away all the malevolent forces!
But she could only think about it. These were just the grand dreams she had every night before falling asleep, lying in bed.
During the day, she was still the timid Liu Qiao’e who did not dare speak loudly.
Thrown without warning into an environment surrounded by wolves, she could only rack her brains and try every method to preserve her chastity.
Yes, chastity. Even though her primal yin was already lost, she stubbornly believed that her time with Song Qian did not count as her first night.
As long as she was unwilling, she remained pure and clean.
In her mind, her first night was to be reserved for the one her heart belonged to.
She had even secretly decided who that would be—Mu Daoying.
Every night before sleep, when she closed her eyes, she would stage a grand drama in her mind with herself.
She scripted their meeting, recognition, understanding, and vows clearly.
They embraced among flowering trees, kissed under the moonlight, his kiss so deep.
She left the Joyous Union Palace, joined a famous righteous sect, and became a world-renowned great hero.
Together with him, they traveled famous mountains and great rivers, admired misty clouds and sun and moon. Under everyone’s blessings, they married.
That youth, face slightly flushed, lifted her bridal veil. He called her emotionally, ‘Qiao’e—’ and pounced toward her, pulling her into his arms.
She pushed, saying no, but he kept teasing her mischievously.
Every time, she would break out in sweat, her heart pounding like a drum. She would hurriedly stick her head out from under the covers and gasp for air.
Life in the Joyous Union Sect was too bitter. After arriving, she found every way to inquire about everything concerning him.
She heard he had gone here or there, slaying such powerful demons, and she felt proud and shared in his youthful heroism.
She heard he was injured, and she worried all day, her brows furrowed, unable to eat or sleep well.
She heard he had befriended a female hero from the Wandering Sword Pavilion named Shen Chengyin, and she went back to cry bitterly, unable to hide her jealousy.
Clearly, clearly she had come first! The female hero standing by his side, aiding the distressed and embodying chivalrous righteousness—that should have been her!
In corners he knew nothing about, she grieved with him, rejoiced with him, worried with him.
With so much fantasy, she could easily outline his brows, eyes, expressions—every smile, every movement, every word in his cool voice.
This mistaken fantasy blurred her perception, making her believe she was already the most intimate with him.
His dao companion should be the most special, most fortunate person in the world.
And at that time, she shamelessly and arrogantly believed that she was the most special, most fortunate person he was waiting for.
Of course, fantasizing about Mu Daoying did not bring only sweetness.
When she saw those intimate couples in the Joyous Union Palace.
She could not help but feel melancholy—why was he not by her side.
When she was surrounded and bullied by the crowd, how she hoped he would come to save his dao companion!
He would descend gracefully, his sword—capable of turning spring winds green and peach groves red—appearing before the crowd.
He would coldly repel them one by one, then turn back to take her hand.
But no.
When she snapped back from her fantasy, what faced her was still their wanton mockery and abuse.
One day, driven to desperation, her fantasy and reality blurred. She blurted out subconsciously that she knew Mu Daoying—they were finished!
If he knew they dared bully her, he would break all their legs!
‘That famous Jade Sword True Heart?!’
‘Though same generation, that youth’s sword bone was innate, his name already shaking Donghua.’ They laughed and pounced on her.
‘How could he be a lofty existence reachable by an ant like you, cowering in the Joyous Union Palace?!
‘Call him! Call him to save you. Why stop calling?’
That day was an unspeakable nightmare for her.
She gathered her tattered clothes and returned to her disciple quarters. She lit a small candle, slumped over the table in agony, tears soaking the deep and shallow scratches on the surface.
Mu Daoying, Mu Daoying.
She repeated his name over and over.
Unable to hold back, she wailed loudly.
Why did he not come to save her?
Relying on that brief encounter over a bowl of water, she thought they had already established a faint yet intimate bond.
Had he not become the Jade Sword True Heart?
Was he not the gentleman’s sword of chivalry and justice?
Did they not know each other?
Why did he not come to save her?
Mu Daoying, Mu Daoying, Mu Daoying—the table was soon engraved with his name.
Every time she suffered grievance or abuse, she returned to her room, crying while carving his name.
Scratches layered one upon another. She rubbed them repeatedly with her fingertips.
The flowering trees, fine snow, dao companion—all fake! The mottled walls reflected a lonely, isolated shadow.
Her delusional obsession was cruelly shattered. He would not appear gracefully when others paired up, to take her hand.
Nor would he come to save her when she was bullied, to stand up for her.
Because he did not even know her yet.
At that moment,
A bold idea suddenly emerged in her mind.
Why not leave the Joyous Union Sect? Was there any reason to stay in this filthy place?
If the mountain would not come to her, she would go to the mountain.
She would go find him! Rather than rot away here in self-pity, she would take action—even if she died on the road pursuing that light!
If the thieving heavens were unfair to her, she would clash against the heavens head-on!
So what if Mu Daoying did not know her? Could she not go meet him herself?
So what if she was thrown into the Demonic Sect? Could she not switch to another sect?
So what if the road was long? Did she not have legs to walk?
She had learned he would attend this year’s Spring Terrace Dao Inquiry.
She steeled her resolve and soon packed her meager belongings, felt for the few spirit stones she had saved over the years, and stuffed them into her shoes and socks. Without a storage pouch, she could only use this crude method.
Taking advantage of a midnight hour, she quietly left the Joyous Union Sect.
Though a cultivator, and having fantasized countless times about becoming a heaven-shaking sword immortal famed in Donghua alongside Mu Daoying.
In reality, she knew no demon-slaying or exorcism. Beyond drawing qi into her body, she did not even understand basic spell arts or divine abilities—no one had taught her.
She only knew bedroom techniques, how to please men to spare herself some suffering.
So she could not earn money using her cultivator status. She bought a dozen or so sesame pancakes in one go and traveled by wind and dew, eating pancakes with plain water when tired or hungry.
Her shoes wore out too. After enduring a thousand hardships, she finally arrived at the Wandering Sword Pavilion.
The sword pavilion opened its heavenly gate.
Ragged and filthy, she was tiny as an ant, gazing up at the sword mountain that nearly pierced the heavens, clouds swirling, vast qi flowing.