Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Taming the Bead

Ye Chu Xue’s breath caught.

Bai Yang’s gaze—so earnest, so disappointed—felt like a blade sliding in between her ribs.

Now she had slandered Master again and again in his eyes. To him, she was becoming unrecognizable.

And he still spoke as if he were offering her a hand. As if she were the one who needed saving.

Ye Chu Xue stared at him, and something inside her snapped cleanly.

Her heart sank, inch by inch, into a cold, lightless pit. Her gaze dulled until it looked almost empty.

All the affection she had once held for Bai Yang shattered in an instant, leaving only bitterness.

She had misjudged him.

He had already been brainwashed by Song Wan Ning. That idiot didn’t deserve her feelings.

“I understand,” Ye Chu Xue said.

Her voice was flat, and when she closed her eyes, the desolation that washed over her was so strong it almost felt physical.

No one believed her.

No one.

She pressed her lips together, grievance surging until it burned.

At this moment, she wanted more than anything for Master to be by her side.

“Senior Sister Ye,” An Ze said suddenly, tightening his hold around her as if anchoring her. His eyes were bright with stubborn conviction. “I believe you. I believe everything you said. Don’t be sad.”

Even under Bai Yang’s displeased gaze, An Ze didn’t back down.

“I believe you,” he repeated, voice fierce. “Someone as scheming as Song Wan Ning—what wouldn’t she do? Senior Sister Ye definitely isn’t lying.”

Ye Chu Xue trembled. A single tear slid from the corner of her eye and disappeared into her hair.

Only An Ze believed her.

Only him.

Silently, she clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms. The hatred in her chest deepened, thick and poisonous.

One day, she would surpass Song Wan Ning.

One day, Song Wan Ning would kneel and beg her for mercy.

One day, she would make all of them regret it.

All of them.

*

Back in the Song Family courtyard, Song Wan Ning arrived to find the Spirit Bead bouncing cheerfully around the house as if nothing had happened.

The pill fire hadn’t harmed it at all. If anything, it had made the bead glow even brighter, its radiance sharp and smug.

Song Wan Ning paused, her expression turning complicated.

She had planned to destroy it if she couldn’t have it. But seeing it now, she couldn’t deny its value. Destroying it would be wasteful.

She needed a way to conquer it completely—to tame it, to make it serve her.

If it truly couldn’t be done, then she could still destroy it later.

She stepped inside. Sensing her presence, the Spirit Bead shot upward and hid along the beam.

It had no face, no real mind—yet Song Wan Ning could practically hear its provocation.

[See? Your little trick couldn’t hurt me at all, you useless thing!]

Song Wan Ning’s lips curved, gentle and pleasant.

The Spirit Bead shuddered.

[Not good.]

[Danger!]

It tried to flee at once. It had always felt this human was terrifying.

“Trying to run?” Song Wan Ning murmured.

She flashed forward. Her hand snapped shut, catching the Spirit Bead in her palm.

“Too late.”

The bead thrashed wildly, but it couldn’t escape. After a few futile struggles, it went limp in her hand, half-dead with dread.

Song Wan Ning stared down at it. A dozen taming methods flickered through her mind—coaxing, bribing, binding, pleading.

All pointless.

It already had a favored master. No matter how sweet she acted, it would never accept her. It would only scorn her.

Better to crush it with force.

If it didn’t submit, then she would beat it.

Beat it until it obeyed.

She acted immediately. Carrying the Spirit Bead, Song Wan Ning headed to the Song Family’s confinement chamber.

This place was used to lock up disciples who had committed mistakes. It was sealed away from the world; without a jade token, no one could open it.

It was empty now.

Perfect.

When she opened the chamber, darkness swallowed everything. Not a sliver of light. Only faint currents of air drifted from unseen corners, cold against the skin.

Rumble…

The heavy door groaned as it closed behind her, sealing the last line of escape.

Song Wan Ning opened her hand. The Spirit Bead’s radiance burst through the darkness, flooding the chamber with dazzling light.

The moment her fingers loosened, the bead shot away.

It darted around the chamber like a headless fly, slamming into invisible restrictions, ricocheting back, spiraling in frantic circles.

Song Wan Ning watched, expression calm.

Then the aura around her shifted.

Pressure crashed down like a mountain.

The Spirit Bead jerked midair, suddenly heavy, suddenly struggling to stay afloat.

A long sword appeared in Song Wan Ning’s hand, its blade shining with frosty light. Killing intent spilled from her like winter wind, sharp enough to cut.

The Spirit Bead froze.

A dense, merciless intent locked onto it.

Song Wan Ning lifted her sword and swung.

Her Sword Dao Domain slammed down, vast and crushing, like endless mountain ranges collapsing at once.

No matter how the Spirit Bead twisted and dashed, it was trapped inside.

Within the domain, killing intent roared. Hundreds of sword lights wove and crossed, slashing down without pause.

Song Wan Ning stood motionless, sword in hand. Yet her mind and soul poured into the domain completely, sustaining it, sharpening it, feeding it.

She deliberately awakened the demonic qi in her body.

A wild, savage killing intent surged up from her heart, so strong it nearly drowned her. It swallowed her thoughts. It swallowed her breath.

Before her eyes, the world turned blood-red.

It was as if she had returned to the day the Song Family was slaughtered—when she had been ground to dust, when villagers had been butchered, when screams had been crushed into silence.

Demonic qi spiraled around her, wrapping her like smoke, devouring her whole. In that moment she looked like Yama himself, terrifying beyond words.

She swung again, hatred and killing intent pouring into the strike with no restraint.

One strike.

Another.

And another.

Like a machine built only for slaughter, she vented the boundless fury buried in her bones.

In her sea of consciousness, the Little Golden Sword boiled with battle intent, its murderous aura rising in tandem with hers.

The Spirit Bead panicked.

It bounced and darted, desperately avoiding sword light—but there was nowhere to run. Sword intent struck its body again and again, driving it downward.

It trembled, forcing itself steady—only to be hit by another wave.

Terrifying sword lights hammered it until it could barely keep itself afloat.

And still, it refused to submit.

[This sword intent is stronger than the pill fire. So what?]

[As long as I refuse, this human will never control me!]

It dodged stubbornly, growing braver with desperation. It even tried to provoke her, to drive her mad, to let her inner demons swallow her whole.

But it underestimated Song Wan Ning.

At some point, the Spirit Bead stopped existing in her eyes.

She forgot her original purpose.

In her sea of consciousness, the figure of Immortal Lord Mo Yang appeared once more.

A world-shaking sword strike split heaven and earth, making even souls tremble.

Another strike destroyed heaven and earth, filling hearts with despair.

That towering figure stood with sword in hand, cold back turned—yet just looking at him made people want to submit.

This was the power of a supreme sword cultivator.

Song Wan Ning stood there, dazed, her mind violently shaken.

For one terrifying instant, the desire to submit rose in her heart—pure, involuntary.

Even in her previous life, when she had knelt and begged for her family, she had never felt anything like this.

That sword strike was terrifying.

A thrill climbed up from the depths of her soul, making her whole body tremble.