Chapter 34: Trial of Ice and Blood

The woman’s coughing grew more violent.

With a thin, bony arm, she shoved away the clay bowl that the little girl had carefully lifted to her lips.

Though sick to the point of weakness, this so-called Master still possessed far more strength than a six- or seven-year-old child. The push, unrestrained, sent the bowl flying from the girl’s small hands.

The clay bowl was already cracked; with a sharp clang, it shattered across the floor.

Black medicinal soup splashed everywhere, spattering the little girl’s body. Shards of the broken bowl scattered as well, slicing through the patches of bare skin her tattered clothes could not conceal, leaving thin trails of blood.

The child froze, frightened by the sudden violence. She remained kneeling on the ground, staring blankly, unable to move or make a sound.

Rain Xiu’s brows furrowed tightly.

This woman… she was deliberately tormenting the child.

Scenes like this were not new to Rain Xiu.

Before meeting Rain Xiu, Xingzan had already been treated as a burden by her own parents simply for being born a girl. Even before she could walk steadily, she had been forced to shoulder endless chores. Worse, she had been used as a punching bag for every petty dissatisfaction—scolded and beaten without reason.

When Rain Xiu first encountered Xingzan, the girl had been about the same age as the child before her now. Xingzan’s so-called parents—hardly better than beasts—had planned to sell her as a child bride to an old widower in a neighboring village.

Rain Xiu still could not fully describe the disgust that had welled in her heart upon hearing of it. Without hesitation, she rescued the girl. Ignoring the parents’ trembling apologies, she treated Xingzan’s injuries and took her back to Daijiao Peak.

As for the role of spiritual attendants, Rain Xiu had long known of their existence. But coming from modern society, she had always been uncomfortable with the notion of servants. She preferred solitude and quiet and had lived alone on Daijiao Peak until then.

Xingzan had been far too young for Rain Xiu to simply give money and send her off. In this world, finding a trustworthy foster family was nearly impossible.

So Rain Xiu took her in as a spiritual attendant—not to enslave her, but to ensure the child grew up safely by her side while also teaching her a few things.

As Bu Xiwei would later discover, Rain Xiu’s original plan had been only to protect Xingzan until she reached maturity. Then, with her Five Elements Sect lineage and a generous dowry, the girl could freely choose her own path—whether to cultivate further or live an ordinary life, she would have the foundation to thrive.

The name Xingzan too had been chosen by Rain Xiu. When she took the girl away from that wretched village, she passed a grove of blooming apricot blossoms. She gave her a new name, as if granting her a new life.

Now, seeing yet another elder abusing a child, Rain Xiu’s heart filled with both pity and anger.

This dream realm—or illusion—was surely connected to the ice sculpture she had seen earlier. The woman lying on the straw mat was most likely the very one carved into that sculpture.

And the scenes unfolding before her eyes… were fragments of this woman’s memories.

The little girl sat in stunned silence for a long while before finally reacting. She let out a sob, but immediately bit it back, daring only to weep softly, muffling her cries.

“Master…” she pleaded through hiccupped sobs, “please, drink the medicine. I begged in the town for so long, picked through garbage for so long, to gather enough coins to buy it…

“Master, you’re gravely ill. If you don’t take the medicine, you’ll die…

“I have no father, no mother—I don’t want to lose my Master too…”

The child’s desperate words made Rain Xiu’s chest ache.

But the woman only grew more irritable. She raised her hand and slapped the little girl across the face.

“Cry! Cry, cry, cry—what are you crying for?!”

Her voice was rough and hoarse, as though her vocal cords had been torn.

Rain Xiu, however, was no longer watching the woman.

As the child’s head tilted from the blow, Rain Xiu caught sight of her half-profile.

Her skin was sallow and thin, marked by long hunger. Yet her large eyes, brimming with tears, still shone bright. She bit her lips hard to keep from wailing.

Rain Xiu’s pupils shrank.

Though the age difference was vast, though the years had reshaped her, those features were unmistakable.

This was—Bu Xiwei.

In the Immortal Domain of the Five Elements, players had known each other’s characters from childhood. The designs were made distinct to aid recognition; the faces never differed so greatly as to be unidentifiable.

Never had Rain Xiu expected to stumble upon Bu Xiwei’s past.

The Demon Lord’s history had always been shrouded in mystery. Even within the game’s storyline, nothing was detailed—only vague hints that her childhood had been filled with tragedy.

In the present, Bu Xiwei was hemmed in by the three great demonic sects outside Qipo Sect—Youluo Cult, the Han Family, and the Hehuan Palace—each holding threats over her, forcing her into compromise.

As for her Master, not once had the game mentioned such a figure. Rain Xiu had never even known one existed.

Yet here she was.

In this world, a Master–disciple bond was no less than parent and child—perhaps even deeper, lasting through lifetimes.

Rain Xiu unconsciously took two steps toward the child.

But of course, an illusion would not allow her to alter distance. The vision remained unchanged.

The woman, her emotions inflamed, suddenly sat upright on the straw mat, glaring at young Bu Xiwei.

“If not for your uselessness, would I have fallen to this state?!” she roared.

Her harsh, broken voice, combined with her hysterical fury, was terrifying—like a vengeful spirit screaming from the depths of the netherworld.

The child remained kneeling, unmoving, her soft sobs swallowed by her Master’s shrieking.

Rain Xiu fixed her gaze on the hazy figure of the woman—and suddenly realized something.

Her dantian… her spiritual root was ruined.

There were two ways such a thing could happen: one was being born with a defective root; the other was having a sound root destroyed.

The former could never step onto the path of cultivation, though their bodies were somewhat stronger than mortals and their lifespans slightly longer. In essence, however, they remained mortal.

The latter fell somewhere between mortal and cultivator—unable to channel spiritual power but still able to use techniques and talismans that required none. They could even consume spiritual pills without dying, unlike the former.

This woman clearly belonged to the latter.

The causes of such destruction were many. But considering the icy attribute of Bu Xiwei’s spiritual root, and the fact that the sculpture itself was carved of ice, Rain Xiu’s suspicion grew stronger.

She turned her divine sense onto the child and looked carefully.

And then she saw it—

On that small body lingered the unmistakable traces… of an attempted possession.

The vision could not perfectly recreate the past, so Rain Xiu could not determine the woman’s original spiritual root. But it had clearly been low-grade—perhaps double root at best.

Bu Xiwei’s, on the other hand, was the rarest of them all: a mutated root of the highest tier, far superior.

It was not difficult to piece the story together. This woman, her so-called Master, had been a demonic cultivator. Under the guise of taking disciples, she sought out children with excellent aptitudes for possession.

But possession was never a simple matter.

Rain Xiu had read extensively on the subject in the Five Elements Sect’s Myriad Books Pavilion. The righteous path forbade it strictly, while in the demonic realm it was more widely known—but even there, few dared to attempt it.

The preparation alone required countless rare treasures, and the chance of success was less than one in ten. Most ended in death—either instantly or through deviation. Only a tiny fraction survived, and even then, their cultivation and spiritual root were completely destroyed.