It was impossible to tell how long it had been before the churning within the demonic mist gradually subsided, returning to a calm stillness.

When Lei Dong regained consciousness, he blinked open his hazy eyes and vaguely surveyed his surroundings. He found himself in a picturesque mountain hollow, where the surrounding trees were lush and verdant, the air filled with the scent of blossoms and the song of birds, and a mountain stream gurgled and meandered past the bluestone he lay upon. Suddenly, a woman, her skin like polished jade, draped in a thin, loose black silk robe, was leaning casually against a clean stone beside the stream. He saw her frowning slightly, lost in thought about something unknown? Her face, perhaps from severe injury or perhaps due to her mood, was pale as paper.

A pair of long, snow-white legs and jade-like feet were submerged in the cool, clear water of the stream. Her smooth, raven-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, rising and falling restlessly with the breeze.

The sight itself constructed a scene worthy of poetry and painting. But when Lei Dong saw this Demoness, a sudden terror seized his heart, dredging up memories of past events. He scrambled to his feet and frantically patted down his face and body. His face seemed unharmed, and, ah, certain other parts also appeared to be intact. As for clothing, why was he wearing a woman’s black robe? And his cultivation? Hmm? Why did his Dantian feel strangely swollen and full? He had only just advanced to the eighth layer of Qi Condensation before the Grand Competition, so why did it feel like he was on the verge of breaking through the peak again?

Before Lei Dong could finish his bewildered query, a spiritual sense, tangible as physical matter, suddenly enveloped him, rendering him utterly immobile, his mouth unable to even utter a sound. He could only watch, helpless, as he was lifted into the air and slowly floated toward her. She continued to play with her jade feet in the stream pool, her expression unchanged, as if the floating Lei Dong before her did not exist.

Lei Dong had not yet reached Foundation Establishment, his internal circulation not yet formed, meaning he could not hold his breath for very long. After just a few minutes, his face began to turn purple from the strain. The fear that had gripped his heart gradually dissipated, replaced by rage, a trembling that shook his entire frame.

Indeed, he only had one life, and Lei Dong had always cherished it. But at this moment, he felt an ineffable surge of anger. Was it because his power was too insignificant? That this Demoness, with whom he had shared an intimate night, who had only recently gasped and yielded beneath him, could prepare to crush him without the slightest flicker of emotion on her face?

Recalling his past life's "experiences," Lei Dong surmised that this Demoness must have been inexperienced when they were together. But even so, in her eyes, was he truly nothing more than an ant she could crush at will? If he possessed the same peerless power as her, or even greater, would she dare to treat him with such contempt?

As the suffocation deepened, Lei Dong’s rage slowly subsided; life and death were simply this. It was just a pity that this current life would vanish like smoke? A pity that he hadn't had the chance to return home to see his parents. And, what about his Senior Sister, Wan Yan? Would she be heartbroken by his death?

Unwilling, truly so unwilling!

Lei Dong’s consciousness began to slowly drift away. Blurry before his eyes was the beautiful, faintly angry, yet charming face of his Senior Sister, whom he had teased.

Whoosh!

The substantive spiritual sense suddenly dispersed, and Lei Dong, losing his anchor in the air, plummeted into the water with a splash. Stimulated by the icy stream water, his nearly dissipated spirit was jolted, and his awareness sharpened considerably.

Lei Dong slowly struggled to his feet in the stream. The anger was gone from his eyes, replaced only by an endless cold indifference. Calmly, he cupped some sweet stream water and drank a few mouthfuls. He wiped the water from his face.

Without sparing the black-robed woman a single glance, he stepped onto the bank with slightly unsteady legs. His pace was slow, yet extraordinarily steady and determined, as he walked toward the exit of the hollow.

The black-robed woman remained seated on the rock without the slightest movement, as if she had been a statue on the riverbank since the beginning of time. Only the wind caused her long hair and robes to stir slightly. What Lei Dong could not see was that her slender hand, hidden beneath the black robe, was trembling incessantly.

Lei Dong left the hollow, and he couldn't tell how long he walked. Although the process between him and the black-robed woman had been bizarre and incredible, he had to admit that she was the first woman he had ever known, in this life or the last. Upon waking to find he hadn't been preyed upon, and then recalling the previous night's wild intimacy, the feeling of uninhibited ecstasy and union of body and spirit, caused him to develop an elusive, ineffable emotion toward the black-robed woman.

However, as her cold contempt settled upon him, those nascent, wondrous feelings were instantly shattered, leaving behind only humiliation mixed with rage.

Was it his pride that had been wounded? A dull ache resonated in Lei Dong's heart. Strength—only strength could allow him to truly possess everything. If he had the power to shake the heavens, he could have conquered her completely through sheer brute force.

Thinking of this, the hot, swollen sensation in his Dantian grew stronger, the increasingly intense signs of an impending breakthrough. This inevitably sparked more confusion in his heart: could it be that after that one night of pleasure with her, instead of being drained, he had actually gained considerable benefits from her?

Unfolding his phantom-like movement technique, he searched around and found a small mountain cave. He entered it and attempted to force his way through the bottleneck.

Never before had Lei Dong’s craving for power reached such an intense level. Previously, his motivation for cultivation stemmed entirely from the ethereal desire for longevity, or perhaps to gain the capital to survive and protect himself once he became powerful.

And never before had he felt such a desire to violently shatter her cold facade, to completely conquer her, body and soul. The burning sensation in his Dantian intensified. Lei Dong suppressed his thoughts, driving out all extraneous notions, and slowly guided his True Qi into his meridians, allowing it to circulate, moving toward the next level of cultivation.

She sat there, perhaps for an immeasurable time, until sunset followed sunrise.

In this life, it seemed, ever since the moment of her birth, it was destined that she would become a generation's Demon Venerable. From childhood, there was only cultivation, constant cultivation; promotion, constant promotion. As her strength grew, those Senior Brothers and Sisters who once associated with her began to regard her with a mixture of reverence and fear.

Loneliness.

It had been a very long time. In her life, aside from cultivating and advancing, there was only killing for the sect. The more she killed, the lonelier she became. The lonelier she became, the more she had to kill.

In the end, regardless of whether they were from the Righteous or Demonic Paths, everyone displayed expressions of terror and unease upon seeing her.

She had originally thought this life would be spent killing, ending eventually in lonely death by being killed. She had even forgotten that she was a woman, a woman of flesh and blood.

She had originally believed she could easily dispatch that young man whose cultivation was no more than an ant’s.

It was only when she saw the determination in his resolute face and the anger in his eyes that she understood that killing was not easy. If the heart held no sentiment, then drawing the blade would be swift. But if the heart held something dear, could the blade remain so sharp?

And only today did she realize that her own heart could, in fact, ache.

His expression—from initial rage, despair, and pain, to the final, settling gaze—never once showed a plea for mercy, constantly pricking at her heart. Yet, she wanted to see how long his unyielding spirit could last.

But in that final instant, a trace of inexplicable tenderness appeared in his eyes, along with a profound, heartfelt attachment. It was like a sharp blade, stabbing deeply into her heart and churning fiercely a few times. Because she knew, in that moment before his death, he was not thinking of himself.

In this life, this was the first time she tasted this feeling—the sensation of a heartbroken soul. It had arrived so swiftly, catching her completely unprepared.

Her name. It seemed no one had spoken it for a very, very long time; she had almost forgotten it herself.

Now, everyone seemed to call her Tian Mo (Heavenly Demon).

Her figure then dissolved into a wispy black mist of demonic energy and floated away. A single, crystalline teardrop seemed to fall from the void, striking the stream and causing a tiny, almost imperceptible ripple.

...M