The thick and endless snow silently descended. All was silent around the well. The trees of New North Bridge had shed all their leaves, the snow-bearing branches looking just like sentinels wielding spears. The Divine Empress, her hands held behind her, gazed in the direction of the distant Orthodox Academy. After a period of silence, she asked, "The Grand Examination is about to begin. What are your thoughts?"

"His Holiness the Pope complied with Empress's will and brought Princess Luoluo into the Education Palace, and has since displayed no other stance."

Mo Yu gazed at the Empress's profile and softly said, "In truth, my view is that the simplest method is to just kill Chen Changsheng, ridding ourselves of many troubles."

After the Divine Empress made her stance known, no one dared to stir up any disturbance over the Orthodox Academy. However, Mo Yu did not think that the Empress wished to display her open-minded temperament through this matter, but wanted those people hidden behind the Orthodox Academy to stand up. The Empress understood everything in the world, and she only posed this question to Mo Yu presumably because she wanted to know her stance. Thus, Mo Yu's stance had to be sufficiently firm.

To her surprise, the Divine Empress did not show any satisfaction at her cold and resolute stance. On the contrary, her lips perked upward into a mocking smile. "How dull is this way of doing things? What's more, if he's killed, how can you peacefully sleep? After all, the scent on the pillow and bedding will eventually disperse."

Mo Yu became somewhat panicked at these words, thinking to herself, how do I explain this matter?

The Divine Empress did not give her a chance to explain. She turned to look at Mo Yu, a smirk on her face. "On the night of the Ivy Festival, it was you that confined him within the Tong Palace?"

Mo Yu suddenly found that the cold today pierced into her bones. Not daring to show the slightest hesitation, she replied, "Yes."

The Divine Empress no longer looked towards the well as she noted, "That is a good place."

Mo Yu did not dare to say any more. She respectfully and humbly lowered her head, took the Empress's hand, and began walking towards the Imperial Palace.

She had imprisoned Chen Changsheng in the Tong Palace during the night of the Ivy Festival at the request of some powerful individual. As for how Chen Changsheng was able to escape, and whether or not he had truly descended to the bottom of the cold pond and encountered that taboo, Mo Yu had no idea, nor did she dare to find out. Regardless, it was all because of her.

The Empress did not say whether she was pleased or displeased by Mo Yu's arrangements, but since she had mentioned it, it was a warning.

All of the Great Zhou Dynasty knew that Mo Yu was the world's second most powerful woman, possessing unimaginable glory and wealth, and power that reached to the heavens. She might occasionally dab a bit of red makeup on her brow, thus causing that fad that had remained dormant for centuries to rise up once more, but she was well aware that all this had been granted, consented to, by the Empress.

Once the Empress began to doubt her, she would lose everything and die without a grave.

The snowstorm today was truly very cold. The fingers of the hand supporting the Empress were rather white, and her lips were deathly pale, utterly devoid of blood.

...

...

Chen Changsheng awoke on his bed in the Orthodox Academy.

His face was incredibly pale, as were his lips, both lacking the hue of blood.

But his body was covered all over in blood, from his shoulders to his chest to even beneath his fingernails. All of it was encrusted in dried blood. Against the snow-white sheets, it presented a particularly striking and terrifying picture.

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling in silence. Only after five breaths had passed and his breathing had gradually stabilized did he slowly turn over, his left hand gripping the edge of the bed as he slowly sat up.

He sat on the side of the bed for five more breaths, waiting for his heartbeat to gradually normalize before rising and walking to the mirror.

He stared at the blood-covered youth in the mirror for a very long time.

He was still alive, a truly fine feeling.

He had taken a stroll around the edge of death and then returned to the world of humans, a truly excellent feeling.

He could not clearly remember what had taken place in the underground cavern, only that once the star radiance began to burn, his spiritual sense descended into an abyss. Within this abyss was nothing but blazing flames, scorching smoke, horrifying tears, unbearable pain, and also despair.

He felt like he had been in a dream, but he knew that all of it was real. He was still somewhat absent-minded, subconsciously raising his sleeve and smelling it. His clothes were stained in blood, and although he could not smell any of its pungent scent, it was still a difficult state to bear for someone who loved cleanliness like him.

He thought that this blood was all his, but this did not make the sight any more endurable. Thus, he took a bath, washing himself many times before finally being able to conclude that all the blood had been washed away. He took a large towel and wiped off any remnants of water, then walked in front of the mirror, intending to open the window and let a little of the clean winter air inside.

Upon walking in front of the large mirror, he suddenly stopped and examined his reflection.

In the mirror, the naked upper half of the youth looked very ordinary. However, he discovered a few unusual aspects.

In this world, there were very few people like him who had a deep understanding of their own bodies. Because of his illness, he had always paid particular attention to all aspects of it. He remembered very clearly that there should have been a scar on his left arm caused when his senior brother had a slip of the hand while performing moxibustion. Now, however, this scar had vanished, leaving the skin on his left arm completely smooth.

Only now did he notice that his skin had become much smoother, similar to a newborn infant's. What confused him even more was that he had clearly suffered grievous wounds, yet he could find no scar on his body. Even his old scars had disappeared, down to the smallest scratch.

Was this possibly Purification? When that star radiance that he had absorbed from that distant Fated Star from spring until now transformed into true essence, did a part of it also help him succeed with Purification?

He did not experience any ecstasy over the fulfillment of his long-cherished desire. He was at the moment greatly puzzled, still in an absent-minded daze.

He stared at the youth in the mirror, his brow furrowed in thought.

Thought was the best action for calming oneself down and rousing oneself from a daze. He gradually became more clear-headed and began to recall more and more. Only at the end did he finally recall that before he fell unconscious, he should have been in the cold underground cavern in front of Senior Black Dragon. How was it that by the time he awakened, he was back at the Orthodox Academy?

He gazed at the damp towel and rubbed it with his hands, confirming that the moisture was real.

He walked to the window and looked towards the walls of the Imperial Palace in the forest's depths, thinking to himself, that pool is where I come out of the underground cavern. If it wasn't the Black Goat thinking of some way to bring me back to the Orthodox Academy, the only other possibility is the middle-aged woman. Just who is she?

Just what happened down there? Why am I still alive? Could it be that I truly succeeded in Purification?

He stood in silence by the window for a very long time before finally making a decision. He returned to his bed, stripped it of bedding, and sat cross-legged upon it. Closing his eyes, he entered Meditative Introspection.

That abyss of flames and despair had arisen from his Meditative Introspection. He had survived, but now he plunged straight back into Meditative Introspection. True, living was an extremely important matter to him, but he could not live a confused life. He needed to understand just what his current situation was.

His spiritual sense entered his body and once more began to roam. However, with his experience, his roaming was no longer an aimless survey, but more like a patrol around his territory. It did not take long for his spiritual sense to reach that vast plain of snow. High up in the sky, he looked down.

While his eyes were closed, his eyelashes gently fluttered, his face pale as snow.

He was very nervous, concerned that his spiritual sense would do the same thing as before, descending to the snowy plains and igniting a horrifying wildfire.

Even someone with as unswerving a will as him had no desire to experience that sort of pain again.

Fortunately, this time, his spiritual sense did not descend, nor did anything else unforeseen occur.

The vast plain of snow remained a vast plain of snow. His spiritual sense noticed that a corner of this plain was burning away, transforming into dozens of tiny little streams that flowed south, moistening the desolate wastes on their journey. However, the thinness of these streams and the cracked mountain ranges meant that the streams could not form into a river system.

Those thin streams should be true essence. Due to the special circumstances of his meridians, it was impossible for these streams to connect in the same way as normal cultivators, so this true essence could only exist in a small area.

Chen Changsheng opened his eyes and began to think.

On the surface, his present circumstances were rather similar to Luoluo's, but there was actually a large difference.

Luoluo's body was brimming with an excessive amount of true essence, but because the meridians of demi-humans were different from humans, being much simpler, it was very difficult to cultivate in human methods. The quantity of true essence he possessed was pitifully small and all his meridians were severed, making it even more difficult to cultivate. But there were a few areas of overlap between the two.

With regards to the problem of his meridians, he had spent years considering this problem, thus allowing him to resolve Luoluo's difficulties in the short span of a few months. Moreover, in the process of addressing Luoluo's problem, he had also been making preparations to address his own problems. He had long since made arrangements as to how he should cultivate.

Yes, there was truly little true essence in his body and his meridians really were all ruptured, but this did not mean that he was unable to cultivate.

He walked to the window, his eyes fixed upon that conspicuous cloud pine growing by the lake. After adjusting his breath for a few moments, he gripped the hilt of his dagger.

With a zing, the dagger left its sheath, and an incorporeal sword intent left the second-floor window and shot towards that tree.

The first stance of the Wind and Rain Sword of Mount Zhong: Rising Flurry.

However, he did not move his true essence according to the method of the Wind and Rain Sword of Mount Zhong, but used the imitated method he taught to Luoluo.

This was Chen Changsheng's first time using true essence. From this moment onward, he began to consider himself a cultivator, a practitioner of the Dao.

Anyone else who had experienced what he had experienced might be overcome with joy, so moved that tears would begin to roll down their face, but he was not. Just like when he confirmed that his true essence was flowing through his body just now, he was so calm that he seemed less like a fifteen-year-old youth than a five-hundred-year-old senior cultivator.

Cultivation had never been his goal, only his method. He had also imagined this present scene countless times, thinking of it so much that he had grown numb to the sight.

As the sword intent tore through the air, his face instantly paled and he groaned in pain.

The distant cloud pine was not even touched, but the stone balcony beyond the window cracked, shooting several stone fragments like arrows into the room. With several thumps, they shot into the walls while one of them struck him on the left arm.

There were still a few problems when using the method he taught to Luoluo. He had to find a new route. This was truly no easy task.

Chen Changsheng shook his head and examined his body, preparing to take out some medicinal powder and bandage his left arm.

Although his true essence was feeble, making it difficult to display the true might of the Wind and Rain Sword of Mount Zhong, it had still been a strike powered by true essence. Those stone fragments were no less powerful than ordinary arrows. They were able to penetrate deeply into the wall, so they were naturally able to injure his left arm.

I should be more careful in the future, he cautioned himself.

Then he realized that his left arm wasn't even injured, not even a single hair harmed.