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"Dao of Heaven, please bless my son and let him recover soon."

"Dao of Heaven above, my family is about to arrange a marriage for me. I ask for nothing else, only that he be upright in character and appearance, with no one but me in his heart..."

Perhaps because cultivators had keen ears and sharp eyes, Song Zhizhi stood by the river yet clearly heard the prayers within a ten-meter radius.

This was a cultivation world without myths or legends. The people here did not worship gods, but the Heavenly Dao, and they were far more devout than ordinary believers.

Song Zhizhi bent slightly and placed the lotus river lantern in her hands into the water. The river carried it rushing away. After watching for a while, she said silently, If the Heavenly Dao can really hear me, could it send me back to the twenty-first century?

To Song Zhizhi, this world was utterly unfamiliar and offered no sense of security. She missed twenty-first-century Earth, with its good public safety and convenient, efficient life.

A gust of wind swept past, and Song Zhizhi saw that her river lantern had gone out.

Song Zhizhi: ...

Refusing to believe it, she ran back to buy several more river lanterns. Then she found a secluded spot, lit one with spiritual power, and set it down. "I want to return to Earth."

—It went out.

She set down another. "I want to transmigrate again."

—It went out.

"Things never happen more than three times. Fine, I want to become rich overnight!"

—It went out.

Song Zhizhi gritted her teeth. Since every lantern went out as soon as she released it, she might as well make an even more outrageous wish. She set down the last river lantern in her hand. "I want to become the strongest woman in this Cultivation World!"

The lantern flickered. Sure enough, it went out—"Hm?"

Song Zhizhi blinked. She saw the flame at the heart of the lantern she had just released flickering, its candlelight swaying from side to side in the river. It looked as though only a feeble flame the size of a mung bean remained. A gust of wind blew past, yet that tiny flame struggled and swayed in the wind, stubbornly continuing to cast its faint light across the pitch-black river before gradually drifting farther away.

Song Zhizhi: "...What did that mean?"

That was absurd, okay? Why did the lantern go out when she wished to return to Earth, yet stay lit for this wish? Becoming the strongest person in the Cultivation World should be even less likely than letting her transmigrate again, shouldn't it?

Song Zhizhi still had some self-awareness. She was afraid of death, and even more afraid of pain. She was timid and weak, completely unsuited to becoming the strongest in the Cultivation World.

"Forget it. These river lanterns aren't magical at all. I'm done releasing them. I'm going back to cultivate." Song Zhizhi stood and rubbed her numb calves, intending to return the way she came. Suddenly, she heard a distant, ethereal voice rise from the center of the moat.

"You've finally returned."

"We've waited for you for so long."

"Finally, we found you."

Song Zhizhi halted, scenes from the horror movies she had watched in her previous life flashing through her mind.

A pitch-black wilderness devoid of people, an empty and desolate voice, a lone girl outside by herself...

Song Zhizhi shuddered and swiftly looked around. As far as she could see, there was not a single person—only the broad river, its surface somehow covered in a thin mist, the air saturated with the dampness of dense fog.

Every hair on Song Zhizhi's body stood on end. If someone filmed this with a camera, there would be no need for post-production color grading or special effects, no need for creepy music. It could be released as a grim, terrifying horror movie scene just like this.

This was a Cultivation World where science did not apply. There might really be ghosts here. She was timid, so please do not scare her!

Song Zhizhi swallowed nervously, then caught them off guard by turning and sprinting toward the city gate. She was so fast that others would only feel a gust of wind sweep past.

The voice behind Song Zhizhi paused.

Only after returning to the bustling crowd and feeling the lively warmth of people around her did Song Zhizhi let out a breath. That had nearly scared her to death.

At Crimson Cloud Peak, not far from Myriad Sword City, Sword Venerable Mingxiao, who had been healing his injuries, opened his eyes. His cool brows furrowed slightly.

"What is it, Mingxiao?" asked the elder of Medicine Peak, who was treating Mingxiao's injuries.

Sword Venerable Mingxiao said uncertainly, "I seemed to sense demonic aura just now. It was at the foot of the mountain."

"Could your perception have been mistaken? I don't think any demon would be so bold as to appear in the Sword Sect."

Yet Sword Venerable Mingxiao was not blindly optimistic. After pondering with a frown for a moment, he said, "No, I still need to take a look. If there truly is a demon capable of evading my divine sense and appearing here, it would not be good news for the Sword Sect."

For some reason, he vaguely had a premonition that if he remained at Crimson Cloud Peak, he might miss something important.

Sword Venerable Mingxiao's cultivation had already entered the Mahayana stage, and his premonitions had always been accurate. Seeing this, the elder of Medicine Peak merely told him not to fight anyone and worsen his injuries. As for the rest, he let him do as he pleased.

Song Zhizhi cultivated for quite a while, then unknowingly grew sleepy again. She yawned, rubbed her eyes, and before she knew it, lay down and fell asleep.

Half asleep and half awake, she seemed to hear a piercing scream from outside. She drowsily climbed up, stood by the window, and looked outside.

Myriad Sword City was very quiet at night. She lived on the top floor of the inn, and perhaps because the moonlight was too bright, she could vaguely see beyond the towering city walls: a young man in white stood suspended in the air with his back to Myriad Sword City. He held a sword gleaming with cold light as he fought someone with a silver fish tail.

Hm? A person with a fish tail? Song Zhizhi woke up at once. Without even blinking, she stared straight at the scene.

The merman controlled the water of the moat, forming monstrous waves that crashed toward the young man with lightning speed. In that fleeting instant, the young man raised his sword. It looked effortless, but carried the weight of a thousand jun. With one strike, he split the towering wave in two.

It was an utterly dazzling and shocking sword strike. For the first time in the Cultivation World, Song Zhizhi faced such powerful strength head-on. The surging waves and the white-robed cultivator holding his sword carved themselves into her heart.

The inn stood in the center of Myriad Sword City, too far away for Song Zhizhi to see the young man's face clearly. Only then did she realize that his clothes and build looked somewhat familiar. But for some reason, male cultivators in this world were obsessed with white robes—six out of every ten men dressed that way—so Song Zhizhi could not remember where she had seen him before.

Rankings

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Transmigrated into a Book

Sweet Romance

Transmigration and Rebirth Romance

Tu Yanyan

Amnesia Trope