Rong Huanxuan had completely lost control.

She despised them, despised them all — did she not know that cultivating a forbidden technique was tantamount to falling into the demonic path, to destroying her own foundation? But she had no choice!

She had grown up in a climate of expectations and harsh demands. She was proud and self-possessed, and she had genuine talent — but she had never once allowed herself to be idle or lax. Because of her status.

The title of clan leader’s heir had brought her honor, yet it had also been a shackle, a weight of responsibility pressing down upon her shoulders. She was terrified of seeing disappointment or a furrowed brow in the clan leader’s eyes. She was terrified of hearing the clan say she wasn’t good enough — that she fell short of her ancestors, or of the heirs of other clans. And so each day, beyond reciting scriptures and drawing talismans, she would sit in meditation, seeking insight, cultivating — she simply did not dare to stop.

Indulge in spoiled behavior? Impossible.

Her status did not allow it — would not tolerate it. She was the heir of the Rong clan. The one and only thing she was required to do was push her cultivation to the absolute highest it could reach, and carry the clan to greater heights. She had felt enormous pressure too — especially upon hearing that some people were able to achieve Foundation Establishment at merely thirteen or fourteen. She could contain herself no longer.

She had believed her talent was more than sufficient. Her cultivation was no worse than anyone else’s. Why not try? Once she succeeded in Foundation Establishment, who would dare say she wasn’t outstanding?

And so she made the greatest mistake of her life. She swallowed a Foundation Establishment Elixir, forced the breakthrough — and the result was a shattered foundation, a descent into cultivation deviation, and a regression of her cultivation.

She had fallen in total, humiliating defeat.

But she was the Rong clan’s heir. How could she afford to fail? As long as she could restore her strength, it didn’t matter whether the method was a forbidden technique. What mattered was that it was useful to her — and even the clan leader thought the same.

The Rong clan could not afford to fall into chaos.

What were bloodlines and spirit roots to her? She needn’t trouble herself over those things — the clan would arrange them for her. All she needed to do was cultivate. But this kind of cultivation absolutely could not be known by others. It was her greatest secret.

The clan leader had once told her that when one’s power surpasses that of others, one can naturally conceal oneself and prevent anyone from seeing through it. All she needed was time — and more diligent cultivation.

But things had not gone according to plan.

There were always all manner of disruptive incidents dragging her in, again and again, interrupting her cultivation and forcing her out of seclusion. She had gradually become unable to suppress her increasingly distorted temperament. And then — upon hearing of Lang Jiuchuan’s existence — she had felt both alarm and rage.

She knew that the true Lang Jiuchuan’s blood and soul had already been used by her. So this person’s existence now was as revolting and obstructive as a housefly — a constant irritant stabbing at her.

This woman — whatever unknown entity she was — just a wandering spirit who had possessed a body. She should have kept her head down and quietly eked out a living. Instead, she had brought the Rong clan one headache after another.

From the very beginning, she should have crushed her utterly. The Rong clan had made the mistake of taking her lightly — and in doing so, allowed her to become a serious threat.

Lang Jiuchuan was the Rong clan’s calamity. Her very name was like a curse, grinding the Rong clan’s pride beneath its heel, time after time. And now, she had torn open the secret Rong Huanxuan had buried deepest.

Rong Huanxuan’s aura turned savage and brutal. She fixed her venomous gaze on Lang Jiuchuan, gasping in great heaving breaths. Lang Jiuchuan was like a blade — precise and unerring, cutting and tearing at the most terrifying and untouchable secrets she harbored.

She struggled against her bonds and shrieked furiously: “Lang Jiuchuan has long been dead! Whatever evil spirit or creature you are, how dare you ruin my path of cultivation!”

Lang Jiuchuan looked upon Rong Huanxuan’s descent into frenzy, and her eyes held not a single degree of warmth — only hatred and bitter satisfaction. As though the hatred etched into the very marrow of her bones had finally found some measure of solace.

She curved her lips in a cold, derisive smile: “Your path? You used innocent living souls as kindling, used the energy of evil and demonic forces as thread and needle to mend your shattered foundation and spirit root. The Rong clan proclaims itself to be of the grand, righteous Xuan order — and yet you are nothing but righteousness worn as a skin, while privately you cultivate forbidden techniques. This is the true path you follow — the path of the demonic and the profane!”

She walked forward step by step, toying with the talisman brush in her hand, spinning it idly: “The Daoist school says: to kill in the name of life is to move ever further from life itself. You, in pursuit of your own survival, did not hesitate to harm the innocent — that is a direct betrayal of the righteous path. And you had the gall to speak with such righteousness and virtue, to call me a demon? What the Mirror of Karmic Iniquity reveals, with the Soul-Reaper present to witness — who is the true demon, and who is not, is plain for all to see!”

Black Impermanence, watching the spectacle from not far off, saw the yin energy being continuously stirred by the talisman brush in her hand and coiling toward Rong Huanxuan. He couldn’t help breaking out in a cold sweat on behalf of Panguan Cui — thankfully, the crimes Rong Huanxuan had committed were unforgivable, otherwise Panguan Cui would be the one facing punishment.

“Shut your mouth! You deserve to die!”

The relentless waves of yin energy that kept rolling toward her acted like a lit fuse. Rong Huanxuan’s phoenix eyes, once high and haughty, were now completely flooded with red veins, a sea of crimson. The inner demon she had spent so much effort suppressing exploded fully to the surface, and the demonic energy lurking deep within her spirit root — no longer bound or restrained — erupted with a thunderous roar.

Everyone stood dumbstruck.

“She’s gone mad — she has fallen into demonic possession!” someone cried out in alarm, their voice unrecognizable.

Elder Zhishang’s expression turned grave: “Those who cultivate forbidden techniques are without exception of the demonic and the profane. Once they lose control, they will inevitably descend into the demonic path.”

Gong Tinglan formed a hand seal with one hand and struck it against the purple bone flute. The purple-bone binding rope coiled around Rong Huanxuan suddenly tightened — she let out a shriek of pain.

Elder Liu reflexively stepped forward. Kong Xu Zi’s voice cracked out sharply: “Daoist Friend Liu, you too are a person of the righteous path — have you still not come to your senses? Are you truly set on becoming complicit with the demonic way?”

Elder Liu’s face was a picture of bitter misery.

What could he do? He was desperate too!

And when the purple-bone binding rope tightened around Rong Huanxuan, it instead caused all the demonic evil energy within her body to burst outward at once, shattering the purple-bone rope constraint entirely. A thick, suffocating cloud of black energy billowed around her, her robes snapping violently in a wind that had no earthly source. What was even more alarming — her eyes were a solid, bleeding red, her hair standing on end in every direction. One look was enough for anyone to know she was no longer a normal person. All the more so given that her bloodline was supposed to be of the righteous path.

Her total loss of control had shattered whatever last thread of wishful thinking anyone still clung to.

There was no longer any doubt: Rong Huanxuan had entered the path of the demonic.

Tantai Cong drifted back to consciousness, and the first thing he saw was Rong Huanxuan’s horrifying, demon-like appearance. He let out a startled cry: “What kind of monster are you!”

Those words lanced straight through Rong Huanxuan. In a blur of movement, she snatched him up and hurled him savagely into one of the pillars at the center of the hall.

“Stop her!”

The imperial clan elders cried out and rushed forward to save him — but they were too late. With a thunderous crash, Tantai Cong was flung with tremendous force and slammed broadside into the pillar. The sound of bone shattering rang out. He didn’t even manage to scream before he crumpled to the ground, his body twisted at a horrifying angle as though it had been broken in two at the waist — alive or dead was impossible to tell.

His spine had snapped.

Lang Jiuchuan glanced over and understood immediately what had happened, but she had no attention to spare — because Rong Huanxuan had already launched herself directly at her, screaming: “Die!”

Her screams, saturated with boundless venom and madness, reverberated through the bedchamber, deafening and excruciating, stabbing at everyone’s eardrums like needles. Her five fingers were curled into talons, her nails tinged black and grown into sharp points, raking toward Lang Jiuchuan.

Gong Tinglan’s eyes went cold. His toe pushed off the ground, and he launched the purple bone flute forward: “Subdue evil, cut away corruption — go!”

He was fast — but Lang Jiuchuan was faster. The jade-bone talisman brush flew from her hand, and a surging, righteously powerful force struck ferociously at Rong Huanxuan’s spirit soul.

“Ahhh!” Rong Huanxuan screamed. Every shred of rationality gone, she rapidly chanted several incantations in succession, then without hesitation bit through the tip of her own tongue. A mouthful of vital heart blood sprayed outward in a scarlet burst.