"If you want to survive, you must redeem yourself—win the favor of the male and female leads. Otherwise, history will repeat itself!"
The warning from the Mirror of Three Lives echoed in her mind like the tolling of a funeral bell, sharp and unrelenting.
Song Wanníng stood alone in the center of the hall, the mirror resting cold and heavy in her trembling hands. Her lips curled into a quiet, bitter laugh.
Redeem herself?
Since when did a villainess need redemption?
She was not a lost cause begging for mercy, nor some discarded puppet hoping for salvation. Her grip tightened around the mirror, and the bones in her fingers creaked under the pressure. Veins rose like rivers beneath her skin, pale from the blood that no longer reached her heart.
This mirror, a divine artifact she had obtained in her previous life, had brought her back after a brutal death, granting her a second chance. Scenes from her past life played over and over in her mind. Song Wanníng's body trembled uncontrollably.
She had once been born into glory. Her clan stood tall, her talent unmatched, her future dazzling. And yet, in the end, she was nothing more than a discarded stepping stone. An obsessed villainess, clinging to a love that was never hers, trampled beneath the feet of a heroine who wore another world's name.
She had loved. Foolishly, deeply. And for what?
To be cast aside, left broken and cold at the foot of a mountain soaked with her family's blood?
She shut her eyes and took a breath, but the memories tore through her like wind through a ruined house.
The laughter. The betrayal. The pity in their eyes when they turned away from her bleeding hands.
It carved itself into her very soul, unhealed, unhealable.
Her voice was a whisper, low and filled with poison. "They will all pay."
She tucked the mirror into her sleeve and walked out of the grand hall with her chin raised. Her brows, long and dark like strokes of ink, framed eyes colder than winter frost. Her skin, white as fallen snow, caught what little light filtered through the overcast sky.
The dull daylight seemed to brighten as she appeared. But the people outside had no mind to admire her beauty.
"Wanníng, Chuxue is hanging by a thread. Are you really going to just stand by and let her die?"
Gu Qingyuan's voice was cold. The distance in his tone stabbed her like a blade.
A sharp ache pierced her chest. She curled her fingers into her palm until they dug into the flesh, hatred rising like a tide in her eyes. She wanted to flay him alive and drink his blood.
This man was her betrothed, her childhood sweetheart, her senior brother.
They had grown up together, faced life-and-death trials in secret realms, shared countless peaceful days. Their engagement had been natural, a promise to become cultivation partners once they reached the Nascent Soul stage.
Until she arrived.
Ye Chuxue. His disciple. His everything.
Even after decades at the Nascent Soul realm, he had delayed their wedding, again and again.
Now, all he could say was—
"Song Wanníng!!"
Gu Qingyuan suddenly appeared in front of her.
"Chuxue is my disciple. All I ask is a single Heavenly Origin Heart-Nourishing Pill! Why have you become so narrow-minded and selfish?"
Narrow-minded? Selfish?
So that was how he saw her now.
She laughed softly. It was a sound without warmth, like frost cracking beneath a boot.
Of course. Refusing to hand over her treasures made her selfish. Wanting her betrothed's love made her narrow-minded.
How convenient.
How absurd.
A mocking smile curled on Song Wanníng's lips as she raised her brows and looked him in the eye. The one she had loved had always been her gentle senior brother from the past, not the simpering fool standing before her, pining like a loyal dog over the heroine.
"My things are mine to give or not give. What are you going to do about it?"
She crossed her arms, a glint of defiance in her eyes.
"You—"
Gu Qingyuan froze. Wanníng had never spoken to him like this before. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, three frantic figures rushed over. Song Wanníng narrowed her eyes. Her pale fingertips glimmered with a cold, killing intent.
Here came her dear disciples.
"Master, Junior Sister Chuxue's condition is critical. Please, just give us the pill!"
The first to speak was Bai Yang, her eldest disciple. His face was flushed with anxiety.
The second, Lu Nanfeng, dropped to his knees with a thud, eyes pleading.
"Please, Master! Save Junior Sister Chuxue!"
The third, An Ze, stared at her with bloodshot eyes, hatred and anger burning in his gaze.
He demanded, "Master, why won't you save her?"
Their voices swirled around her like a storm, battering her from all sides. She looked at them—truly looked—and her heart gave another painful twist. She pressed a hand to her heart, but her eyes had already turned ice-cold. "After all I've done for them… this is how they repay me?"
And that treasured eldest disciple—Bai Yang, the so-called male lead—was the one who later led people to destroy her family, personally grinding her bones to dust.
How could she not hate them?
She said nothing, but the spiritual pressure around her flickered and surged.
An Ze, seeing this, exploded in anger.
"You've really disappointed me, Master! If you were the one injured, Junior Sister Chuxue would definitely give up her pill for you! Why are you always so selfish?"
He nearly roared those words in her face.
In the next breath, she raised her hand.
A massive palm of spiritual energy snapped into existence, lifting An Ze off the ground and clamping around his throat.
He choked, face turning red, limbs kicking.
"You dare curse your master?"
Her voice was soft but deadly.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she hurled him down the mountainside.
Bang—
He crashed onto the training platform halfway down the slope, startling the disciples who had been pretending to train while secretly watching the drama unfold.
Pfft—
Blood gushed from An Ze's mouth as he collapsed like a ragdoll, completely immobile.
"Is that Senior Brother An?!"
"What happened to him?!"
The onlookers were stunned, whispering among themselves in shock and fear.
Back at the hall, the rest of the group had also snapped out of their daze. They looked at Song Wanníng like she had gone mad.
"Master, what are you doing?!"
Bai Yang looked from the injured An Ze to Song Wanníng, then rushed down to retrieve him. He quickly fed him a healing pill. Lu Nanfeng scrambled up and followed after him. An Ze was gravely injured, his internal organs damaged. He wouldn't recover for at least two months.
Gu Qingyuan frowned, his eyes cold and full of reproach.
"He's your disciple, and you would strike him so viciously? Song Wanníng, do you even know what you're doing?"
Song Wanníng lifted her eyes slowly. A smile tugged at her lips, both amused and scornful.
"An Ze was insolent and disrespectful. As his master, I am well within my rights to discipline him. What now, are you going to teach me how to do my job?"
"You—"
Gu Qingyuan stared at her, stunned. She had to be insane. This wasn't the Song Wanníng he knew. This woman was sharp, unrelenting.
Lu Nanfeng looked equally confused and worried.
"Master, you've always treated us so kindly. You've never raised a hand against us before. Why hurt Third Brother today?"
Song Wanníng had always been known for her strong temper and fierce protectiveness. She had doted on them since they first became her disciples. Not once had she ever punished them physically. Today, she had turned into someone entirely different.
"You still remember I've treated you well? Then why are you all standing against me, just for an outsider?"
Her eyes were deep, fixed on them with intensity that made their hearts tremble.
"Something's wrong! Uncle Master Gu, Sister Chuxue's condition is worsening! She needs the pill immediately!"
A sect disciple came running, face pale with panic.
"Uncle Master, she can't hold on much longer!"
Gu Qingyuan's mind filled with the image of Ye Chuxue lying unconscious, deathly pale.
He swayed
A flash of determination crossed his eyes. He closed them briefly, and when he opened them again, his gaze had turned cold and resolute.
"Desperation made men foolish."
"You want to marry me, don't you?" His voice was hollow. "Give me the pill, and I'll fulfill our engagement."