chapter 3
As in my previous life, many people seeking immortality had gathered at the foot of Mount Xuanwei.
I reviewed my former experiences in the sect alongside everything I had learned from the comments, then listed several key events in my mind.
On my third day beneath the mountain, I quietly provoked a princess into targeting me. When she mocked a concubine’s daughter for daring to seek immortality, I argued, “The Great Dao is impartial. Does it distinguish between legitimate and illegitimate children, noble and lowborn?”
After her maid shoved me to the ground, I weighed fragile tears against quiet strength and chose the latter. Loud enough for the audience to hear, I vowed to cultivate diligently and bring blessings to all living beings.
On the tenth day, an outer disciple expressed his interest in me. I waved him away.
“Though Xueyi comes from the mortal world, I understand that cultivation requires a tranquil heart. I would not dare disturb an immortal’s peace.”
He tried to say something more, but I pressed my lips together.
“My entire family was slain by demons. I wish only to succeed in cultivation, so no one under heaven must suffer such a tragedy again.”
When he told me I might not possess spiritual roots, I smiled instead.
“If that is so, I have even less right to burden you. I only hope your Dao heart remains firm and that you succeed in your cultivation. Please protect the common people in Xueyi’s place.”
On the twentieth day, I stood in front of a disfigured man who was being ostracized and bullied.
“Are people truly going to prey on the weak at the very foot of an immortal sect?”
They threatened to beat me as well unless I moved. They asked whether I was protecting him because I had fallen in love.
My expression remained resolute. “What does a little pain of the flesh matter? My conscience is clear.”
“Do you think talk of romance will shame a woman into retreating? No. I acted out of compassion, openly and without regret.”
…
For two months, I performed small acts like these whenever an opportunity arose.
The comments expressing affection for me multiplied, but it was not enough.
Nowhere near enough.
I could not help growing anxious.
On the night before the spirit-root testing ceremony, I tossed and turned until I finally rose and went outside.
The moon was bright, turning the stream white as snow.
“Zhu Xueyi—”
Hearing my name unexpectedly, I turned. It was the disfigured man I had once protected.
I searched my memory for his name. “Jiang Yuan?”
He stepped from the shadows. A scar crossed half his face, making his once-handsome features look savage, especially beneath the moonlight.
I had seen countless ugly demons in my previous life and found it unremarkable.
So I smiled. “Could you not sleep either?”
He sat beside me near the stream. While I wondered what he wanted, he asked, “The spirit-root ceremony is tomorrow. What will you do if your talent is poor—or if you have no spiritual roots at all?”
Delight leaped in my heart. This was exactly the opening I had been waiting for.
Outwardly, my eyelashes trembled. Only after a moment did I seem to recover.
“I don’t know. I have nowhere to go.”
“Are you an orphan too?” Jiang Yuan asked abruptly.
I shook my head, then stopped and gave a self-mocking smile.
“I once had parents and family. Now I have only a younger sister…”
I scooped up a handful of cool stream water and studied my reflection. Pale and frail yet unyielding—it was the sort of beauty the audience liked.
“If I lack talent and cannot avenge my family, I won’t know what to do. I will carry the guilt for the rest of my life.”
When the mood was perfect, I smiled with deliberately forced lightness.
“Perhaps I will take up a knife, or a sword, and kill however many demons I can, no matter the price.”
Silence stretched between us. I thought Jiang Yuan would say nothing more, but then he slowly called, “Zhu… Xueyi.”
I did not know what he meant to do. The comments were already guessing.
—Don’t tell me this ugly guy is Xueyi’s love interest.
—Please no. Xueyi is so beautiful. Don’t stick a flower in cow dung.
—Her name really is lovely, though. Hehe. Cool and beautiful, just like her.
I scoffed inwardly.
A lovely name?
I could not say so aloud.
Then Jiang Yuan said, “Does a family that gave you a name like that truly deserve your vengeance?”
I met his fathomless gaze and said nothing.
He studied me for a moment, looking exasperated by my stubbornness.
“Zhu Xueyi. Zhu-yi sounds like shroud. A white funeral garment. Your family probably never expected you to live in the first place.”
What a useful straight man.
I was delighted. To preserve the gentle, kind persona the audience loved, there were many things I could not say myself. Jiang Yuan was practically a second mouth, cleanly and decisively tearing apart the illusion of familial warmth maintained by kindhearted Zhu Xueyi.
As the comments exploded with curses, my hand trembled.
Water spilled through my fingers, sending ripples across the stream.
“I know…” I said softly, without bitterness. “But they gave me life and raised me. They never truly meant for me to die.”
I elevated my persona a little further and smiled at Jiang Yuan.
“Besides, demons killed my family. My enemy is the enemy of every mortal.”
“If I have no spiritual roots, then even trading my life for the death of one demon might save a family. Would that not be worthwhile?”
Jiang Yuan suddenly laughed. “What difference would the death of one demon make?”
He leaned to my ear and spoke so softly that only the two of us could hear.
“…”
Startled, I snapped my head up.
The comments clawed at themselves in frustration, desperate to know what he had said. Jiang Yuan and I stared at each other for a long time. I neither nodded nor shook my head.
He smiled, rose, and walked back without another word.
Ripples spread through my heart, but I remained by the stream.
This was the last night. I could not waste such beautiful scenery.
I carefully composed every detail for the audience.
A lonely full moon. A silent, snow-bright stream. Autumn-water eyes, clear and wistful. A crystalline tear that refused to fall.
The wind lifted my unbound black hair, carrying a thousand unsaid thoughts in its strands.
Was the picture beautiful enough?
Had my words been good enough?
Would you love me a little more?
Just a little more?
At the spirit-root testing ceremony, I happened to stand behind Jiang Yuan.
One seeker after another was found to have no spiritual roots or useless ones. The comments laughed and joked while I lowered my eyes and considered my situation.
The princess who had mocked a concubine’s daughter for seeking immortality was found to possess all five spiritual roots, a combination notoriously difficult to cultivate. She left in humiliation, but stopped beside me.
“Zhu Xueyi, do you see now?”
“Immortal and mortal. Legitimate and illegitimate. Man and woman. Noble and lowborn. Each divide is an uncrossable chasm.”
I stared at her. Had the failed test shaken her so badly?
Before she could say more, I shook my head. “The immortals are present. Do not speak recklessly.”
The princess came to her senses. Her face changed several times before she muttered, “I would not dare,” and left.
Watching her go, I called, “Jiang Yuan?”
He glanced back. “Afraid?”
I nodded honestly. “Yes.”
Without the talent to cultivate…
Even the eldest legitimate princess, standing at the pinnacle of mortal power, was only a speck of dust in an immortal’s eyes.
“If neither of us has spiritual roots, what will you do?”
Jiang Yuan thought about it. “You plan to seek death killing demons. I plan to struggle for life. Our paths probably won’t cross.”
I…
He had a point.
I glanced at the comments. They seemed to suspect nothing.
—Jiang Yuan doesn’t seem important. He probably has no spiritual roots.
—Don’t worry, Snowy! You’ll definitely have them. You’re the second female lead!
—Ah, I want to become Jiang Yuan and comfort Snowy! I hate this!
Yes. Through my tireless efforts, the audience’s name for me had changed from “the vicious second female lead” to “Zhu Xueyi,” and now to “Snowy.”
Many still regarded me with suspicion, but that was not fatal.
I looked toward the high platform, veiled in drifting cloud. No person could be seen.
Soon it was Jiang Yuan’s turn.
He stepped onto the platform. The testing stone remained dark.
Just as I had in my previous life, he possessed no spiritual roots.
I was next.
Step by step, I approached the platform. Jiang Yuan passed me and seemed to glance back, but I had eyes only for the testing stone and the comments.
My heart hammered as I slowly laid my hand upon the stone.
It remained colorless.
I had not a trace of spiritual roots.