In a flash between life and death, Jian Dan used her spiritual sense to pull the warship and Cotton Candy into her magnolia space.
Cotton Candy took a moment to register the change. Once it realized it was inside Jian Dan's personal domain, it began happily drifting about, eagerly claiming territory.
Jian Dan, however, had no time to relax. The next step was the real challenge—how to explain her sudden reappearance. The massive warship floated quietly in the spatial realm before gradually shrinking and returning to its initial form.
She couldn't afford any delays. She had to reappear just as the explosion's aftermath was dying down. Her timing had to be precise.
After stowing the warship into her storage pouch, Jian Dan called Cotton Candy back, then hung the red phoenix-shaped jade pendant given to her by Bai Jue Zhūnzhǔ at her waist.
"Cotton Candy, ready?"
"Ready, Master."
With a thought, she reappeared at the battlefield's center. The lingering shockwave instantly flung her away. The jade pendant at her waist activated immediately, manifesting a phantom image of Bai Jue Zhūnzhǔ, which shielded her from harm. At the same time, Cotton Candy caught her securely before she hit the ground.
Far away in the demon clan's white crane territory, Bai Jue, who was training her parrot troops, paused. Her gaze turned toward the central continent. Her demon energy fluctuated briefly before returning to calm.
Hopefully, that little cultivator was unharmed. With a snort, she resumed the grueling drills, ignoring the parrots' pitiful wails.
Jian Dan felt absolutely awful. Her hair was a mess, her face was streaked with fresh blood, and only the parts of her robes protected by her silver-armored beetles remained intact. The rest was scorched black.
Even her protective silver-armored insects had been badly damaged by the blast. She felt a deep pang in her heart—they had only just grown stronger. She was about to recall them when the mother beetle, which had never once left her dantian, sent her a message.
They wanted to consume the remains of the black-shelled beast. Doing so would allow them to evolve.
Jian Dan frowned slightly but didn't stop them. Like spirit beasts, insects had an instinctual sense of what they needed to advance. Still, she warned them to move quickly and stay hidden.
At her command, the silver-armored insects surged toward the ruined remains of the black beetle—now just an upper half and a cracked shell.
Jian Dan barely had time to throw on a new robe before a Nascent Soul cultivator's escape light flew toward her. With a wave, she recalled the silver-armored insects and stowed away the beetle's remaining shell. This was her trophy. She wouldn't let anyone else claim it.
Then she had Cotton Candy carry her to rejoin Tao Chengfeng and the others. In numbers, even schemers would hesitate to act.
When Jian Dan reappeared before the group, riding atop Cotton Candy, Tao Chengfeng finally let out a breath of relief. The moment she landed, Yue Liang leapt onto her shoulder and wrapped its fluffy tail around her neck.
Seeing Jian Dan's pale face and battered figure, the surrounding Jīndān Zhēnrén were filled with complicated emotions. That moment of Void Refinement pressure just now—they had all felt it clearly.
"Amitābha... Shan Zhēnrén's courage has spared us all from disaster," said Liao Kong, stepping forward with Liao Chen in tow. The younger monk looked at her with sparkling eyes, and Liao Kong's words were nothing short of flattery.
Tao Chengfeng stepped protectively in front of Jian Dan. Though she looked fine on the surface, who knew what internal injuries she might have suffered? This wasn't the time to let others take advantage.
Jian Dan still smiled modestly.
"Liao Kong Zhēnrén flatters me. This was a joint effort. I dare not claim all the credit."
"Enough already, Liao Kong. You're always the wordiest. Better think about how we're going to deal with those Zhēnjūn," Yan Su Zhēnrén cut in bluntly.
Sure enough, even as they spoke, five or six Yuányīng Zhēnjūn had arrived at the site and were investigating. When they finished, they flew toward the group.
The first to arrive was Fan Ji'an, a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator from Yunling City. His thick, downward-pointing mustache made him stand out, and his sharp gaze swept the group before locking onto Jian Dan.
He sensed lingering battlefield energy around her—and a faint trace of demon clan pressure, subtle but still detectable.
He raised a finger, pointing directly at her.
"You. Explain. Why did you destroy the Lingyun Mountains without cause?"
Coming in hot with an accusatory tone, he clearly had ulterior motives. Jian Dan knew it immediately.
The remaining Jīndān Zhēnrén went completely silent. They knew Fan Ji'an was trying to twist the truth and use Shan Zhēnrén as a scapegoat. The coldness of such a move chilled them to the bone.
A cold gleam flashed through Jian Dan's eyes. She looked disheveled, but she had barely suffered any actual injury. She could still fight. Though she didn't want to reveal her trump cards just yet, this kind of shameless behavior didn't deserve courtesy.
"Zhēnjūn, if you want to assign blame, I'm sure you can find a way. But we risked our lives here to stop that creature from reaching Yunling City. And now you want to say this was all our fault?"
"Hmph. Who witnessed it? You're the only one saying so. How can that be trusted?"
As he spoke, Fan Ji'an released his late-stage Nascent Soul coercion, bearing down on the gathered Jindan cultivators.
The three Zhēnrén from the demon path sects were the first to react. Their bodies radiated demonic energy, ready to retaliate if Fan Ji'an dared to strike.
Jian Dan, however, ignored his pressure entirely. She reached out to steady Tao Chengfeng, who nearly buckled beside her, and then flashed a bright, almost innocent smile toward Fan Ji'an.
Without warning, Fan Ji'an collapsed to the ground in front of all the Jīndān Zhēnrén. His face turned from red to pale in an instant, unable to rise.
===
If you're wondering why I write terms like "Jīndān Zhēnrén" or "Yuányīng Zhēnjūn" instead of "Golden Core Zhēnrén" or "Nascent Soul Zhēnjūn," it's a deliberate choice.
Personally, I find it more natural to keep these names in matching Chinese pairs. "Golden Core" and "Nascent Soul" are the common English equivalents, yes—but pairing English realm names with Chinese titles (like Zhēnrén or Zhēnjūn) always feels a bit off to me. You get the feeling, right? Keeping both parts in Chinese preserves a smoother rhythm and cultural coherence.
That said, the main reason I use "Jīndān" and "Yuányīng" is because those terms are already very familiar to readers of xianxia novels. Most people in this genre already know that "Golden Core" = "Jīndān" and "Nascent Soul" = "Yuányīng."
However, once we move beyond Nascent Soul, the situation changes. Higher stages aren't always as widely recognized by their Chinese names, so for those, I'll likely use the more recognizable English version paired with the Chinese title—for example, "Void Refinement Zhūnzhǔ" or "Unity stage Zūnshàng." That way, the meaning stays accessible while the cultural flavor is still preserved.
As always, these choices are based on both style and readability. Thanks for your understanding—and if you're a fellow translator or just curious about the craft, you'll know that decisions like this are part of the balance we walk when adapting stories across languages.