Volume One, Chapter 9: The Soul-Devouring Pill

“I am not wrong; she is a complete waste, not my sister at all. I would rather die than apologize to her!” Yun Chu spoke with eyes blazing with anger as she glanced at the others, then turned and left the Moonfall Pavilion.

“Absolutely lawless!” Yun Wuhen wore a look of bitter disappointment, glancing at Yun Qinghe and Yun Qingqing beside him. The two immediately understood and, after exchanging greetings, also left.

“Yan’er, don’t take what Chu’er said to heart. No matter what you are like, you are my daughter, Yun Wuhen’s second young lady of the Yun family.”

Yun Wuhen’s expression softened into that of a doting father, a stark contrast to his earlier fury.

Zhao Yan knew this was merely a temporary façade.

If they truly regarded her as their daughter, they wouldn’t have ignored her for eighteen years.

“Father, I’m fine,” Zhao Yan said, though the grief on her face betrayed her words.

Yun Wuhen exchanged a glance with Madam Yun, then took out a brocade box from his bosom and smiled, “Yan’er, your mother and I have come with good news. We’ve found a way for you to cultivate.”

Surprise lit up Zhao Yan’s face. She grasped Yun Wuhen’s hand tightly, her expression filled with excitement as she asked, “Really? Can I truly cultivate now?”

“Of course. I know you’ve suffered a great deal over the years, but rest assured, we won’t let you endure such pain anymore,” Madam Yun said with a smile.

“This is a Heavenly Spirit Pill specially obtained by your father from the National Master of Fengyu Kingdom. You only need to take two pills, and in three days, you’ll be able to cultivate alongside them.”

Madam Yun opened the brocade box to reveal two milky-white pills. She took one and handed it to Zhao Yan.

Zhao Yan accepted the Heavenly Spirit Pill, lowering her gaze to it as a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you, Father. You are so kind to me.”

How kind, indeed—wishing her dead sooner rather than later. In this world where the strong dominate and the weak are prey, familial bonds and blood ties mean little before the lure of interest.

Truly a remarkable Heavenly Spirit Pill.

“Yan’er, take it quickly,” Yun Wuhen urged.

From their eyes, Zhao Yan saw urgency, expectation, and anxiety—but not a trace of tenderness or love.

Heh.

“All right.”

In front of them, Zhao Yan swallowed the pill, and both of them sighed in relief.

“Do you feel anything, Yan’er?”

“No.”

A flash of disappointment crossed Zhao Yan’s face before she added, “Maybe I really am not suited to cultivation.”

“How could that be? Look, there’s still one pill left,” Madam Yun comforted her.

---

“Should I take the other one too?”

Madam Yun calmly put the brocade box away. “No, that’s not allowed. The National Master said you can only take one pill per day.”

“Very well.”

After they left, Zhao Yan quickly forced out the Heavenly Spirit Pill, gathering spiritual energy in her hand to crush the pill. The skin beneath her sleeve grew slightly cold, and beads of sweat appeared densely on her forehead.

They tricked her with the Heavenly Spirit Pill to make her take the Soul-Thirsting Pill. She had never met that National Master before, but he seemed to understand her well, even knowing she could cultivate. Was he really just a National Master?

Two days passed swiftly.

Night fell.

Zhao Yan paced in her room, one hand on her waist, the other resting on her chin.

“Why hasn’t Mo Chenlan shown up yet?”

Just as she muttered, a ghostlike figure appeared behind her. She turned suddenly and was startled. Mo Chenlan’s quick reflexes had him covering her mouth just as she was about to scream.

Zhao Yan instinctively placed her hand on his chest. Their eyes met; the scent of a woman enveloped him. Mo Chenlan was momentarily stunned, a strange emotion flickering in his eyes. Then, he felt her hands move slightly on his chest, and his expression darkened.

He quickly pulled away. Before he could say anything, Zhao Yan spoke.

“You scared me! Pay up!”

“...”

Mo Chenlan looked at the outstretched hand, his dark eyes dimming with a mixture of surprise, mockery, and indifference. Concealing the surge in his eyes, he pressed his tongue to his cheek and let out a low laugh.

He had never met such a shameless woman—repeatedly taking advantage of him and then having the nerve to demand money.

If not for that divine oath, she’d likely have reported to the underworld long ago.

Zhao Yan’s gaze fell on Mo Chenlan’s ear, flushed red as if bleeding. She raised an eyebrow—such a cold and aloof beauty could be shy?

Suddenly, a heavy bag appeared in Zhao Yan’s hand.

After glancing inside, she cleared her throat and quietly put it away.

“By the way, are you confident about breaking the seal on Yun Zhaojun?”

Mo Chenlan responded in a low voice.

Zhao Yan was already used to his aloofness and continued, “Two days ago, the National Master had Yun Wuhen give me the Soul-Thirsting Pill.”

Mo Chenlan narrowed his eyes. “They know you can cultivate?”

Zhao Yan shook her head. “They’re also pawns of the National Master.”

A deep shadow passed through Mo Chenlan’s gaze as he scrutinized Zhao Yan. What exactly did he want from her?

After a long moment,

“Let’s go.”

---

Dawn broke. Zhao Yan, still groggy, was pulled up by Qiu Yue and Qiu Ju to dress and prepare.

Today was the welcome and cleansing banquet—the day the Yun family would publicly announce her identity to the world.

Though she knew their true intention was to harvest her blood, Zhao Yan couldn’t understand why they would go to such lengths to announce her existence openly when they could have dealt with her quietly.

The banquet was held on the square outside the Yun family ancestral hall. The plaza was packed with people—legitimate and branch family members, nominal disciples, and representatives from various factions.

Seeing such a grandiose welcome and cleansing banquet, Yun Chu wore a disdainful and even angry expression.

He could not fathom what his parents were thinking. A shabby, powerless waste with no spiritual energy—what was there to celebrate? She was dragging down the Yun family’s prestige.

Moreover, if others knew Yun Chu had a useless sister who couldn’t cultivate, he would surely be ridiculed.

“Achui?”

A man in a white robe approached. His delicate features bore a touch of handsomeness, a gentle smile gracing his lips. Though silent, his kindly expression revealed his gentle and refined nature.

“Brother Baili, you’re here so early,” Yun Chu finally smiled upon seeing him.

Baili Xingchen was the personal disciple of the dean of Jialan Academy, ranked second on the strength leaderboard and among the top three in looks.

With both strength and charm, and a kind disposition, he was the object of admiration for many young women across the Four-Star Continent—though unfortunately, his heart was already taken.

“Just came by with nothing to do,” Baili Xingchen said, scanning the surroundings. “Where’s your sister?”

“She’s in seclusion. Didn’t she tell you?” Yun Chu was surprised—given their relationship, Xingchen shouldn’t be unaware.

“Senior Brother Baili.”

“Young Master Baili.”

Yun Qinghe and a group of girls ran over, eyes full of admiration as they looked at Baili Xingchen.

The Yun family had many descendants, plus about five hundred disciples from other surnames. Only those who ranked in the top ten in the clan competition would have the chance to enter Jialan Academy.

Only on the day of the clan competition finals could one see Baili Xingchen.