High in the mountain of the Glass Cloud Sect, in a deeply secluded and heavily forested corner, a great boulder laid embedded into the side of a sheer, rocky cliff.

  Around this cliff, on every stone and tree, were countless talismans, some many meters long and drifting gently in the breeze.

  Even if left to study for years, not even the Elders of the Glass Cloud Sect would be able to parse the obscure, arcane inscriptions that covered this place.

  Even as the rain fell and dampened the earth, not one of the many paper talismans grew wet or damaged, an ancient energy and complex inscription insulating them from any natural damage.

  Adorning the massive boulder, an intricate mass of inscriptions spread out across its surface like a spider's web.

  At the very centre of this web, a faint spark suddenly sprang into reality and began to burn through the inscriptions, quickly searing through the entire web like a wildfire.

  Almost as soon as the flame appeared, it vanished, leaving the surface of the boulder bare.

  No longer held in place by the sealing inscription, the boulder slipped free from the cliff face, crashing down and sinking heavily into the sodden earth.

  Behind where the boulder had rested was a small cave, the darkness within appearing so dense that the shadows appeared to seep out and over the stones with nothing left to hold them in place.

  A young-looking man stepped out from the shadow of the cavern, his calm and noble countenance radiant against the darkness.

  With his hands behind his back, this man's gaze slowly swept through the night sky, looking towards something invisible to mortal eyes. 'This bizarre agitation of karmic particles… just what is happening here…?'

  This man, the Patriarch of the Glass Cloud Sect and ancestor of the Zhao clan that ruled over the kingdom, was so unnerved that he had ended his Closed Door Cultivation decades earlier than intended.

  Far above in the heavens, and deep below in the earth, infinitesimally small particulates writhed with unnatural vigor, invisible and intangible to any below Patriarch Zhao's level of Cultivation.

  To see them responding with such energy, reacting in a way far beyond what his own abilities could possibly evoke, had greatly disturbed the man. 'I only pray this is some strange, yet natural occurrence…'

  Thinking in this way, Patriarch Zhao vanished from the edge of the cavern, and within the same breath, he stood beside the Elders of his Sect, observing from their overlooking room in the palace as Jun Li continued to bleed out into the palace gardens.

  "Tell me, what manner of commotion am I walking in on?" At the sudden sight of the Patriarch, Elder Guo flinched terribly before regaining his composure, faster than his peers, who remained stunned for a moment longer. "...Patriarch Zhao, congratulations on the conclusion of your Closed Door Cultivation…"

  Seeing no reaction from the Patriarch even after a few seconds had passed, Elder Guo let out a silent breath of relief and slowly found the words to continue. "There's been… a disagreement between a recent batch of disciples. The results are… as you can see."

  The air of the room seemed to remain still, no one speaking without prompt from the Patriarch. To the eyes of all present, it was as if he were a common mortal, with no Cultivation at all. But that abject lack of presence was deeply unnerving after seeing him appear as if from thin air.

  Zhu Enlai, in particular, found himself feeling stifled, having never encountered the Patriarch in his time as the local Branch Director of the Alchemist's Association. 'It's been a long time since I've seen a Crown this close up…'

  Wholly unbothered by the silence, Patriarch Zhao looked towards Jun Li's unmoving body, the source of the disturbance that roused him. 'How utterly unremarkable…' It was a strange sight, that single, unmoving disciple was a profoundly inert source, for such a great reaction.

  'Hmm?' As if it never existed, the disturbance of karmic particles Patriarch Zhao had sensed had been made still, and the body of the disciple below slowly began to move again, just slightly.

  'I had hoped it was some sort of natural event, but this...? I cannot understand how this child caused such a reaction...' Narrowing his eyes with suspicion, the Patriarch carefully studied the scene, memorizing even the slightest details.

  … … … … … …

  Half-conscious, Jun Li's vision blurred, and her focus drifted back and forth. Occasionally, her eyes would look for Ren Liwei, but unable to move her neck, her gaze would always fall back towards the stream of blood that flowed from her.

  She felt no shock or dread; Jun Li simply lacked the sense in this moment to consider how grievous her wounds were.

  In her dulled state of consciousness, Jun Li felt her blood sinking into the soil.

  Not merely through the sensation of her wound, or the sight in front of her, but through a more intimate, tactile sensation, as if countless liquified nerves were mixing through her spilled blood.

  This unfamiliar, inhuman sense consumed her focus. The intimate feeling of sinking, seeping, and melting was impossibly dissonant to human logic and mortal experience. It drew her very soul in, obsessively focusing her whole being, and accustoming it to an impossible sensation.

  It was as if it wasn't blood that spilled forth from her, but her entire body being liquified and following its natural course.

  'I'm covered in blood and rain… It's hot… my body feels heavy… It's only natural that I'd start to melt, isn't it?' For an instant, Jun Li truly believed in that strange, unnatural line of thought.

  In the river of blood that flowed endlessly into the garden, Jun Li felt something move that brought her attention back to reality. A subtle twisting of energy that pulled a strand of Qi from her body, before sending it shooting through the pooled blood, to where her hand laid limp.

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  That small spark of Qi entered Jun Li's Spatial Ring, and small medicinal pills of various shapes and sizes spilled out, compelled and directed by some discreet intent that had not come from Jun Li.

  Those pills manifested and spilled across the great wound that stretched across Jun Li's abdomen. "...So… you're here… you old, immortal thing…" Faintly, Jun Li spoke out towards her pooling blood, now knowing with certainty that another, living presence was with her.

  Very few of these pills were of any meaningful value to her, seemingly having been randomly chosen. But as they melted down, from rain and blood, Jun Li's wounds began to burn painfully, and the crudely clashing energies forced her to slowly reclaim some lucidity.

  All of a sudden, the blood that drew Jun Li's attention seemed mundane, and she could no longer sense anything through it. 'And like that… you're just gone, huh?'

  Slowly, Jun Li dragged herself upright, coughing up blackened blood, saturated with impurities. Although she tried to rationalize what she had felt, Jun Li struggled to form a proper train of thought and so tried to focus on her objective.

  She slowly rose to her feet, each inch she rose being punished with pain, as her torn intestines shifted further apart.

  Wincing terribly at the pain, Jun Li staggered and focused further on her wounds. Looking to the ground, Jun Li saw that even in the rain, the color of blood saturated the ground. And yet, beyond the pain in her gut and what she believed to be a concussion, she felt no symptoms of anemia, even as blood continuously streamed from her abdomen.

  'I suppose that must be your doing…'

  Recovering a modicum of control over her body, Jun Li pulled one thing after another out from her Spatial Ring. Herbs, pills, elixirs, and anything with a numbing effect, before consuming them one after the other without hesitation, pouring some directly over her gaping wound.

  By the time she had risen to her full height, Jun Li couldn't feel her wounds anymore, nor could she feel her feet on the ground, the sword in her hand, or the rain on her head. Even her eviscerated bowels, which may have been visible from afar if not for the unending flow of blood, caused no discomfort.

  With a sensation more akin to floating than walking, Jun Li turned towards Ren Liwei, who sat and watched her with an expression of mild perturbation. "Well… I don't mind if you drag your death out for a few moments more. I'm not busy."

  Not reacting to Ren Liwei's words, Jun Li moved without pause.

  Ren Liwei was in decent condition, one might even call him healthy, despite the wound Jun Li had left on him. Though his fatigue was undeniable.

  He had indeed fought at his greatest possible intensity during his initial clash with Jun Li, and the technique he had used to strike her down had caused a painfully intense recoil, from which his arm had not yet recovered.

  In contrast, Jun Li seemed to waver between life and death, staggering forward as inhuman quantities of blood spilled from her body. At a glance, it was undeniable that continuing this fight, if one could call it that at this point, was impossible.

  In the simplest and most objective manner, Jun Li lacked the faculties to harm Ren Liwei now. She had made a single, grave mistake and lost her opportunity.

  But even so, Jun Li held no hesitation or doubt; Ren Liwei would die.

  Without any profound technique, Jun Li raised her sword and swung it towards Ren Liwei with the meek force she could muster.

  Ren Liwei gently lifted his spear into the path of Jun Li's blade with one hand, the impact not even budging his guard. Jun Li's strike only caused more blood to pour from her gouged abdomen. Despite her conviction, the force she could muster was deeply insufficient.

  A genuine smile distorted Ren Liwei's expression, his narrowed eyes in joyful crescents. "At this point, it's almost pitiful… Shall I end your suffering?"

  Below, Jun Li's feet sank slightly into the stone flooring of the pavilion, as if it were mud. 'Blood seeping into my clothes… my feet sinking into the ground… my pain melting away…'

  A subtle, malformed enlightenment sank into her mind, pouring into the creases of her brain and scarring it like boiling oil.

  Standing as still as a statue, with her blade pressed against the haft of Ren Liwei's spear, Jun Li felt her sword sink slightly into the wood. 'Such a soft spear… just a bit of pressure would cause it to…'

  Gently pushing her sword down, Jun Li's blade sank straight through the haft of Ren Liwei's spear, as if it were made of mud, before falling through his chest and ribs, as effortlessly as a stone tossed in a lake.

  For a half-second, Ren Liwei didn't realize he had been struck, only flinching backwards as his breathing was interrupted by a torn lung. A mere half-breath caused a lance of pain to shoot through him, causing him to collapse to the floor and sputter up mouthful after mouthful of blood, more blood even than spilled from his lacerated chest.

  Panic took over, and Ren Liwei scrambled to distance himself, clambering unsteadily to his feet and looking to the spear that had failed him, only to see it had remained intact. Just a slight warping remained in the grain of the wood where Jun Li's sword had sunk through it.

  Distracted, Jun Li limped around the pavilion, gently touching the handrails and pillars, marveling in the bizarre way the pressure of her hand seemed to melt their surfaces, leaving lumpy distortions and malformations where it passed.

  The impossible phenomenon made sense to her, for a moment. Warmth, pressure, moisture… under these forces, it was only natural for something to melt. Of course, even if it made sense to her, she knew it was impossible, and deeply wanted to search her inherited memories for an explanation.

  But for now, Jun Li's mind could only fall back to the default state she had enforced upon herself throughout the night. "Right… you have to die now."

  Turning to Ren Liwei, who was struggling to steady his painfully trembling body, Jun Li spoke with little energy in her voice. "So… do you remember what happened to Duan Shu now?"

  Unable to take a full breath, Ren Liwei was barely able to hold onto his spear, and Jun Li slowly wrenched it out of his hands.

  "I… I…" Struggling to speak with a destroyed lung, Ren Liwei's body and mind both writhed between anger and pain. "The hat... I just… took the hat…" With the shame of falling at Jun Li's feet burning more painfully than his wounds, Ren Liwei spoke the truth, hoping to save himself.

  "Ah…" Jun Li felt much of her tension dissipate at his words, knowing that Ren Liwei had not irreparably harmed her family. "Good!"

  With her spirits lifted, Jun Li shook off some of the numbness that enveloped her and smiled with relief. "Now you can die." Without hesitation, Jun Li pressed her sword towards Ren Liwei's throat.

  In that instant, a thin beam of light shot from a window of the palace and into Jun Li's brow.

  Patriarch Zhao had targeted Jun Li's soul with a delicate application of highly advanced sorcery, rendering her unconscious instantaneously, before he himself appeared between her and Ren Liwei. 'They seem like such promising disciples...! I can't let them kill one another…'

  Appearing over Ren Liwei, the Patriarch applied a series of rapid acupoint manipulations, rendering him unconscious before he could even comprehend what was going on.

  Within seconds, Ren Liwei's condition was stabilized with medicines, talismans, and further, more advanced manipulations of his acupoints and meridians.

  "Now, for…" The instant Patriarch Zhao turned towards Jun Li, he froze in place, being caught off-guard for the first time in centuries.

  She should have been unconscious, rendered inert from the light blow to the soul he had administered. But there, Jun Li's body remained upright, looking through him with eyes that were not her own.

  "Hmm… I didn't expect to wake up this soon." Jun Li's body smiled peacefully, looking around, before its eyes rested on Patriarch Zhao. "Well, I don't suppose you'd mind telling me where I am?"