Ming Jing

But someone heard her final cry of despair, as though the world itself were desperately holding her back, telling her not to smash the jade and stone together.

Killing them would indeed vent her hatred, but someone who murdered her father and mother would bring shame upon Yonglu Mountain.

Even if Yonglu Mountain did not care for the world's condemnation, even if it would not change in any way because of a single outer disciple like her, Jiang Ying thought, I must control my Dao Heart.

Even now, when her path of cultivation had already been severed.

As long as she remained Junior Sister Jiang, she would not waver, would not become another unrecognizable version of herself.

In an instant, a full and limpid aura curled around Jiang Ying. If her Spiritual Root had been intact at this moment, she would surely have entered a state of enlightenment, her cultivation soaring by leaps and bounds. But now, her bodily Spiritual Root was damaged and her divine soul unstable. This light, ethereal aura was helping her stabilize her divine soul and repair her Spiritual Root.

This was heaven and earth's gift to her.

"I want to sever all kinship with you."

Jiang Ying heard her own voice, each word striking the ground like metal and stone. "Neither Jiang Ying nor Jiang Baozhu is me. I will cast aside this surname and this name. From this day onward, I am only myself—not Jiang Ying, and not Jiang Baozhu."

With a rip, like silk tearing apart, a sound came from the void and entered the ears of everyone present. Cultivators possessed a unique sensitivity toward fate. At least at this moment, whether it was Wen Xu, Bian Chunchou, or even the blunt Chen Zui, they all clearly understood the meaning of that sound