Zhou Yi was awakened by a slave’s punches.

One punch after another, with no technique or other methods—just straightforward blows to his face.

Zhou Yi had just regained consciousness when the beating left him dazed. The world was spinning, his ears ringing. He couldn’t hear what the person in front of him was saying, nor did he understand the current situation. In his confusion, he heard loud laughter, and the person gripping his collar let go, standing up unsteadily.

Before he could see what his attacker looked like, Zhou Yi witnessed the person suddenly being kicked and sent flying. A man’s loud laughter reached his ears: “Too slow! Too slow! Too slow!”

Now, the slave who had fallen to the ground was the one being beaten.

Zhou Yi couldn’t keep his eyes open. The last scene he saw felt like a nightmare.

When he awoke again, he had become a slave of the Heavenly Pit, wearing iron shackles.

Slaves had no rooms to sleep in. They lived by the sandy riverbank of the Heavenly Pit, with more than ten people resting against each enormous tree whose name they couldn’t identify. The trickling water helped reduce the heat, and to the slaves in the Heavenly Pit, those tall buildings seemed as high as the sky.

Zhou Yi felt severely injured. Even the slightest movement caused great discomfort. Everything hurt, especially his face—even blinking caused intense pain, which frustrated him for a long time.

After overhearing Zhong Anqi’s conversation with the mysterious person by the reed riverbank, Zhou Yi knew he was in trouble. He had heard something he shouldn’t have. Although he had run away promptly, Zhong Anqi had pursued him relentlessly. If he could have held out until reaching the city, he would have had a chance to escape, but unfortunately, he was intercepted by Ye Yuanqing’s star power.

He had fallen to the ground and was about to call out to Ye Yiyi, who was hidden by the reeds, but before he could utter a sound, Zhong Anqi knocked him unconscious.

Zhong Anqi was aware that Bei Dou’s senior brother had been replaced.

The person impersonating Chen Zhou had been exposed and had come to find Zhong Anqi.

Zhou Yi curled up on the ground, his mind active, trying hard to ignore his physical pain and think about other matters.

He had been intercepted by Ye Yuanqing’s star power. When Zhong Anqi was pursuing him, Ye Yuanqing discovered them and helped, but without alerting Ye Yiyi, probably not wanting her to find out.

As Tai Yi’s senior brother, Zhong Anqi was impeccable, gentle, and courteous. Even knowing that Zhou Yi liked Ye Yiyi, he had never shown contempt or hostility, and still treated him as a junior brother of Tai Yi who needed care.

Zhou Yi had admired Zhong Anqi, but after tonight, he felt that perhaps he was indeed somewhat foolish, as Ye Fengming had said.

First, he needed to figure out where this place was.

Then… hmm?

Zhou Yi’s expression changed slightly. With trembling eyelashes, he slowly lowered his head to look at his hands.

“Here, you cannot sense star power, nor can you use your star meridian strength.” A slightly hoarse female voice came from beside him, startling Zhou Yi.

He looked up and saw a face covered in mud, with disheveled hair. Only her eyes were particularly bright.

The young girl hugged her knees, tilting her head as she looked at him lying on the ground. “The supervisors will come to inspect soon. Don’t let them discover you’re already awake, or they’ll have fun at your expense.”

Zhou Yi wondered silently what supervisors were, who she was, and why he was here. But he trusted the girl’s words and closed his eyes as he heard footsteps approaching from a distance.

The supervisors who came down to inspect wore impatient expressions. They checked each group to see if the slaves were resting properly or up to some mischief.

One of them kicked Zhou Yi, nearly making him cry out in pain.

“This newcomer still hasn’t woken up?”

“He was beaten pretty badly.”

“He looked like some young master from a wealthy family. How did he end up in this place?”

“He was sent by Tai Yi. What does being a young master matter?”

“…”

The supervisors walked away, chatting and laughing.

Zhou Yi waited until he judged it was safe before quietly opening his eyes. He struggled to sit up, moving closer to the girl to hear her whispered words.

The girl said, “I’m sorry, he wasn’t like this before… and he didn’t mean to hit you.”

Zhou Yi tried hard to recall what the person who had beaten him in the pavilion looked like, but couldn’t remember. Perhaps he hadn’t seen clearly at all. He only remembered fists striking his face one after another—pure punching force, without the protection of star power, not a battle between cultivators.

“Who is he?”

The girl replied, “A good person.”

Zhou Yi asked again, “Who are you?”

The girl was silent for a moment, then said softly, “…A slave of the Heavenly Pit.”

Zhou Yi was taken aback, then, after a pause, said, “I meant your name. I’m Zhou Yi.”

The girl shook her head and said, “Slaves have no names.”

An answer both expected and unexpected.

Zhou Yi’s mind worked quickly to understand the current situation. “So… this is a slave pit.”

The girl nodded.

Zhou Yi fell silent.

Could Zhong Anqi’s heart be so dark that he would confine himself in a place that restricted star power? No, perhaps the question should be: Was Ye Yuanqing’s hostility toward the Zhou Clan so great?

That he would dare to harm him without regard for his father’s face.

Or maybe… Ye Yuanqing’s attitude was because he had heard something he shouldn’t have.

It’s not like I would tell others. They didn’t even discuss it with me before taking action. It seems they have designs on the Zhou Clan Commerce Guild.

Zhou Yi sighed inwardly and looked up at the girl. “How long have you been here?”

The girl lowered her eyelids and said, “I can’t remember.”

“Do you know the person who beat me in the pavilion earlier? I took a beating, so at least tell me his name—that’s fair, right? Or is he also a slave without a name? But surely there must be some code name? Otherwise, how do you address each other daily?”

After saying this, Zhou Yi felt his attitude was remarkably good.

The girl seemed attracted by his demeanor, her bright eyes showing curiosity as she looked him up and down. After a while, she said, “You have a really good attitude.”

Zhou Yi felt a bit embarrassed by the compliment. “You’re the first person to say that about me. My father only says I’m stupid. Although he often scolds me, when he discovers I’m missing, he’ll surely find a way to look for me. At that time…”

But the girl softly interrupted, “This place is meant to break people with good attitudes like yours.”

*

In the Formless Nation.

Seeing that Qing Ying had chosen the west, Ming Li wrote down the known places in the west that restricted star power and asked her to choose again, but Qing Ying made no selection.

She stopped writing, thought for a moment, then looked up to exchange a glance with Xiang An’ge. Xiang An’ge said, “Perhaps there’s a place in the west you don’t know about.”

Ming Li: “You?”

Xiang An’ge: “If you don’t know, I certainly don’t.”

Ming Li sighed, “I’m beginning to wonder how you became a Pilgrim.”

“What’s there to wonder about? If you want to know, I can tell you. I don’t mind talking about this. It started when…” Ming Li interrupted Xiang An’ge and wrote another place name on the paper. “We’ll discuss that later. Right now, I want to know about something else.”

Xiang An’ge shrugged, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, completely relaxed.

Ming Li handed the newly written paper to Qing Ying and asked, “Is it Tai Yi?”

Xiang An’ge raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised.

Qing Ying’s hand hovered over the paper and slowly descended, but different from before, she only suspended her hand above the paper without touching it.

Ming Li asked again, “Not in Tai Yi, but related to Tai Yi?”

Without her puppet master’s commands, Qing Ying couldn’t nod or shake her head. Ming Li couldn’t possibly bring Cui Yuanxi here, so Qing Ying could only try her best to respond this way.

It was like being able to speak and knowing what to say to express yourself, but the words that come out are jumbled or completely unrelated to what you want to express—your consciousness is clear, but your body struggles to keep up.

This was Qing Ying’s current state. She could understand Ming Li and others, but giving a response was extremely difficult, relying entirely on her repaired Spiritual Court meridian to barely manage.

Seeing Qing Ying’s hand hovering, Xiang An’ge said, “She’s being pushed too hard.”

Qing Ying made an effort to lower her suspended hand and tapped the paper, nodding in response to Ming Li.

“You’ve done very well,” Ming Li said, standing up and stroking Qing Ying’s head. “Leave the rest to me. Now you just need to focus on recovery.”

Xiang An’ge said, “She needs to rest.”

Ming Li watched as Xiang An’ge led Qing Ying behind the screen. She took the paper with the characters “Tai Yi” written on it, folded it, and then unfolded it repeatedly. Finally, she held it in her hand, opened it, and crushed it into powder.

The door wasn’t closed. Ming Li rested her chin on one hand, watching flowers that only bloomed at night—pure white, delicate, yet beautiful and flawless.

Xiang An’ge came back and asked her, “Didn’t you say Cui Yuanxi’s brother also knows something?”

Ming Li: “He wants me to give him Qing Ying before he’ll speak.”

Xiang An’ge sat down opposite her again, still maintaining his lazy posture, leaning against the chair back and swiveling around.

He said, “If you won’t give her up, and he won’t talk, then keeping him is useless.”

“So should I kill him?” Ming Li’s gaze was aimless. “Once a person is dead, they’re just dead.”

Xiang An’ge nodded, “You have more say in this matter.”

Ming Li smiled, “I don’t particularly enjoy killing people.”

Xiang An’ge shook his head, “You went on a killing spree in Nan Que just half a month ago.”

Ming Li: “I wouldn’t call it a killing spree. I only targeted a few academy principals.”

Xiang An’ge said, “Then what about when you were in the Bei Jing Gui Yuan? That would count as a killing spree, right?”

Ming Li said softly, “That was war. They attacked first. If we’re counting, more people from my Bei Dou died.”

Xiang An’ge yawned and continued chatting with her, “Are you planning to kill your way back to Bei Jing Gui Yuan later?”

Ming Li: “After I find everyone I’m looking for.”

Xiang An’ge asked directly, “Do you suspect Ye Yuanqing?”

Ming Li: “I thought you didn’t care about outside matters?”

Xiang An’ge: “Just some idle talk in the deep of night. I’ll forget it after I hear it.”

“I can only suspect him. The west is Tai Yi’s domain. They have a hand in every industry. If there are places in the west that restrict star power that I don’t know about, Ye Yuanqing knows. Earlier, when my junior brother drew Cui Yaocen away, Ye Yuanqing left with them, showing they share the same secret. The common point is that they both target my Bei Dou…”

“If you were Ye Yuanqing and learned that my senior brother had accidentally entered a place that restricts star power… perhaps, that place also hides secrets related to Tai Yi, what would you do?”

Without a moment’s thought, Xiang An’ge answered, “Kill him.”

Ming Li nodded, looking outside thoughtfully, “If possible… I don’t want to kill people.”

Xiang An’ge also looked at the flowers outside, “You truly don’t want to kill people. You want them to live a life worse than death.”

Once a person dies, they can no longer feel pain, recognize their mistakes, or know what regret means. But the living must spend their entire lives in different shadows.

Day by day, month by month, year by year, embracing cruel memories and experiences that no one else can understand throughout the long remainder of their lives.

Ming Li recalled a discussion about the Heart Meridian with her senior brother Chen Zhou when she was fourteen.

They were returning to the sect from Seven Star City, walking side by side along a mountain path filled with fireflies at night. Her senior brother was peeling grapes for her as they walked, listening to her constant reminders not to throw the grape skins on the path.

The young man, suppressing the urge to give her a beating, handed her the peeled grape and said, “The killing intent of the Heart Meridian is directed not only at others but also at oneself.”

“Perhaps someday, under certain circumstances, you’ll have to choose for yourself—to kill or to live.”

“…”

“Stop just eating grapes. Did you hear what I just said?”

“I heard! But I don’t cultivate killing intent, and neither do you—”

“Whether you cultivate it or not, learning more is never wrong… You still want to eat? There’s none left!”

“Then let’s go back and buy some more.”

“You go.”

“I won’t go.”

“You go.”

“I won’t go.”

“Fine… let’s go together!”