In the days that followed, Ye Mingzhi, Chu Xiyue, and their team continued their intensive training under Jing Quan's guidance. This time, their challenge was to create their own formation to pass the next trial.
The purpose of this training was clear: to sharpen their battlefield judgment, improve cooperation, and maximize team effectiveness. Yet, designing a formation from scratch was far from easy. With no prior experience, the team stumbled, failed, and tried again—over and over.
Still, their determination never wavered. Every failure fueled more discussion, more refinement. Slowly, they began to mold something strong—an unbreakable formation born not just from strategy, but from unity.
Meanwhile, Ren Xue was on her way to seek out Ye Mingzhi and Chu Xiyue. Before she could reach her destination, she was intercepted by a group of former followers.
One of them sneered, tossing something to her feet.
"Your brother is dead. Forget your little dream of reunion. Dao Jue fooled you like a puppet. Recognize this?"
She looked down and saw a ring—familiar, unmistakably her brother's. Her hands trembled. The others left her standing there, frozen and silent, the truth cutting deeper than any sword.
Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to break down. She needed answers.
Driven by desperation, she accelerated toward the camp where Ye Mingzhi and Chu Xiyue had been staying.
As she approached, Ye Mingzhi sensed a foreign aura nearing. He rose from where he had been meditating and began walking toward the source, with Qi Jue following closely behind, still cautious after the last incident.
About 150 meters ahead, Ye Mingzhi stopped. Before him stood a young woman with long white hair and a soft oval face, dressed in flowing blue robes.
"You must be… Ren Xue?" he asked calmly.
Ren Xue froze. She looked at him, recognizing him from the scroll Dao Jue had shown her.
"Where did you hear that name?" she asked, voice trembling.
Ye Mingzhi paused, then replied quietly, "From your brother—before he died. His last wish was for me to find you. I'm… sorry."
He took a deep breath and added, "He's buried not far from here. If you'd like… I'll take you."
Moments later, they arrived at the quiet hill behind the camp. Chu Xiyue was already there, waiting with Fei Yue at her side.
"You must be Ren Xue," Chu Xiyue said softly. "We'll give you some time alone. If you need anything, let us know."
With that, they stepped back, leaving Ren Xue alone at her brother's grave.
She knelt down, her hand resting on the cold stone. Her voice cracked as her sorrow spilled out.
"Why did you leave me in this world all alone? Who do I have now? Who can I rely on? Brother… what am I supposed to do?"
The wind whispered through the trees as if to carry her grief skyward.
After a few hours of silence by her brother's grave, Ren Xue finally stood up, brushing away her tears. Before leaving, Chu Xiyue and Ye Mingzhi approached her.
"Be careful," Chu Xiyue said gently. "And don't rush things. If you ever feel lost or alone, come back here. This place… we'll be your family too."
Ren Xue nodded, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. I'll cherish this kindness."
Then, she turned and made her way back to the Nine Heavens.
A short while later, she stood before Dao Jue.
"Master Dao Jue," she said, trembling but resolute, "You lied to me. You promised I would reunite with my brother. But he's dead. Why?!"
Dao Jue regarded her with cold amusement, like a king glancing at a discarded pawn.
"Why?" he repeated with a scoff. "Because both you and your brother were always tools. Slaves. His death proved useful—thanks to him, I learned how far Ye Mingzhi and Chu Xiyue have grown. You? You're nothing. A foolish girl clinging to hope."
Ren Xue's eyes widened, but before she could respond, Dao Jue struck.
A surge of energy burst from his palm, slamming into her chest. She cried out in pain, coughing blood, and fled—stumbling, broken, but alive.
Meanwhile, in a forest not far from the training grounds, Ye Mingzhi and Chu Xiyue were walking hand-in-hand beneath the trees, speaking softly about Ren Xue and hoping she was doing well.
Suddenly, they sensed a flicker of familiar energy.
"It's her," Chu Xiyue whispered.
They rushed through the forest—and found her.
Ren Xue lay collapsed, blood staining her dress, her breathing faint.
Ye Mingzhi's hands clenched. His eyes turned red with rage.
He knelt beside her, trembling. "Dao Jue…"
Then, slowly, he stood. His hand reached for the hilt of his ancient sword. He pointed its tip skyward.
"I swear—by this sword, and by my name as the former ruler of the Nine Heavens—Dao Jue, I will turn you from Dao Jue into 'Dead Jue.' You will not escape judgment. You will not be reborn."
At that moment, the skies darkened. The wind howled. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Somewhere far above, Dao Jue shivered. His hands trembled. The oath had been made—and fate had begun to shift.