My Name Is Feng Qingjue. This Is My Story

Cold.

Is it the numbness left after the soul has been completely shattered, or the rough touch of the coarse Green Robe covering the body?

Memories, carrying the scent of rust and blood, surge forth in a torrent.

Consciousness floated and sank in the Endless void, as if it had been thrown back to a long, long time ago—that equally chilling coronation ceremony.

"My name is Feng Qingjue, and I was once the Young Emperor of a dynasty."

That dragon throne was so large that it always made my slender figure look even more striking.

Every morning at the Golden Hall, officials shout "Long live the Emperor!" Behind those respectful, bowed faces, I know perfectly well how many ruthless ambitions lurk.

Ten years.

I sat on that cold throne for ten whole years, learning to be patient, mastering political maneuvering, and understanding how to deliver the most deadly blade with the gentlest smile.

When I finally purged the powerful ministers, suppressed the Vassal King, and firmly grasped power over countless bones, I thought it was all over.

I remember that day the sunset was like blood, and I stood alone on the highest eaves of the palace, looking down at the vast land below, my blood-stained imperial robes fluttering in the wind.

I spread my arms and declared to my kingdom, "From this day forward, no one in this world can be above me!"

But this illusion was quickly shattered by reality.

That was just an ordinary day for the morning assembly.

A cultivator from the Upper Realm, searching for something, actually barged into my Golden Luang Hall.

His cultivation level is only at the Eleventh Realm, which is nothing special within my dynasty, not even comparable to the Grand Secretary who protects me.

But when I looked at the entire court—from the Grand Chancellor of the Cabinet to the General guarding the nation, including those valiant and capable ministers I had personally promoted and who had sworn to serve me to the death—

Not a single person stepped forward to stop or rebuke them. Instead, when the cultivator's indifferent gaze swept over them, they all bowed and addressed him respectfully as "Your Lord Envoy." Only then did I understand:

How ridiculous it is that what I thought was supreme!

People from the Lower Realm should bow their heads before cultivators from the Upper Realm; there's no other reason why.

If I had to pinpoint a reason, it would be that he came from the Upper Realm.

The cultivator didn't even glance at me; he took the item and flew away on his Ride sword.

I sat alone on the dragon throne, my fingertips digging deeply into my palms.

It turns out that I escaped one cage, only to jump into an even bigger one.

What use is immortality to me? Isn't it just another cage?

That night, I stood atop the highest point of the palace eaves, gazing up at the endless sky, and swore an oath, word by word:

"I want to go to heaven."

"It's not for immortality, it's not for power."

"I want to go up there myself and see for myself what makes it so special up there in the clouds!"

Therefore, I embarked on the Immortal path, using the vision and methods of an emperor to gather talents from all sides and pool my strength.

I fought against the Prodigy, ventured into the Secret Realm, and faced death nine times without regret, finally becoming a Peerless Fairy. My Profound Ice Jade Bone Sacred Body awakened, and my radiance illuminated an era.

Until... I met him in the ring.

That man who called himself Talisman Cultivator, whose real name was Qing Wangchuan.

The moment my eyes met his, my Dao heart suddenly cleared—I understood, he was the Destined tribulation me.

As long as you can overcome this tribulation, your future Immortal path will be smooth sailing.

I reached out my hand to him, extending a fervent invitation. "Come with me to the heavens! Let's go and see what the heavens above the heavens are really like!"

However, he stood still, his gaze as calm as a still well. "Now that you have endured countless hardships to reach the Immortal Court, what are your plans?"

This question stunned me, and then a surge of emotion welled up inside me.

I raised my head and replied, "Naturally, it's to make those high and mighty Celestial Person understand—you can Lower Realm the mortal realm and rise above all living beings, and we too can ascend to the heavens! I want them to see clearly that they are no different from us!"

But this impassioned declaration only earned him a three-word evaluation:

"Too shallow."

These three words were like ice water poured over my head, instantly freezing all my enthusiasm.

Too shallow?

Are your ideals too shallow?

The Condensed obsession I forged, severing my Mortal World and overcoming countless hardships, was, in his eyes, merely... "too shallow"?

To break the Myriad Ages order that prevents Lower Realm from ascending to heaven—such Grand Wish, yet it still doesn't catch his eye?

A fire of humiliation and resentment burned in his chest, almost bursting through his throat.

We faced off.

He didn't even really make a move; with just his Soldier Puppet, he easily crushed all my pride, all my trump cards, and all my struggles like dust.

"The ideals are too shallow, and the strength... is also too shallow."

These words, like a thunderclap, echoed repeatedly in every moment of defeat.

I finally understand what he meant by "shallow"—my ideals stop at a mere glimpse of the sky, and my strength is limited to the courage of one person alone.

Like a frog in a well, determined to jump out, yet unaware of where to go afterward.

Then came the Sword Light.

The Taichu God-Burial Sword will end everything.

I never imagined that a Paper Figurine could use the Qin Clan Secret Technique.

The moment the Sword Qi swept across my body, and I felt my life force instantly extinguished, I knew—

It's over.

All my ambitions, all my struggles, and all my ideals came to a complete end at that moment.

I lost, utterly and completely, losing my life and my pride along with it.

However...

My consciousness was abruptly pulled back to reality.

Feng Qingjue opened his eyes!

Her heavy breathing triggered an unfamiliar sense of weakness. She looked down and saw a rough, plain blue cloth robe that barely covered her body, devoid of any spiritual energy.

The radiance of the Sacred Body and the long, Ice Crystal Long Skirt vanished.

It was as if everything she had gained through her struggle to break free from the Mortal World emperor's throne and fought her way to the top had been cut off by that sword, returning her to her original state.

Subconsciously, I touched my waist and abdomen; it was still smooth, yet it seemed to still linger with the phantom pain of being severed.

"I... I'm not dead?"

Feng Qingjue, supporting himself on his arms, sat up with some difficulty and looked around the unfamiliar and empty room.

But Feng Qingjue, who once looked down upon the world and vowed to ascend to the heavens, seems to have truly died on the arena.

All that remained was this blue Green Robe that covered his body, and a soul that had just been pulled back from the abyss of death, filled with bewilderment and icy coldness.

Unconsciously, her fingertips traced the rough fabric of her clothes. Whose Green Robe was this?

Just as I was pondering this, I faintly heard the Zither Music and conversation coming from outside the courtyard.

"Eldest Brother, just how strong are you really?" It was Jiang Yan who asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Not that strong." His reply was flat, the voice she would never forget until her death— Qing Wangchuan.

"How strong is 'not that strong'?" Jiang Yan pressed on, unwilling to give up.

"Just a little bit better than others."

"Who's slightly better?"

"Slightly better than anyone you've ever met."

Feng Qingjue pushed open the door, and a wave of cool air rushed in.