After nine lifetimes of reincarnation, the yandere villainous heroine descends.

Eastern Continent, Tiansheng Sect.

Dressed in a long black robe, Si Anhe stood alone on the Star Gazing Platform at the summit of the Holy Sect, gazing into the distance, looking straight towards the Central Plains.

Those usually clear and sharp eyes were now veiled in a thin mist, her lips pressed tightly together, silent as a jade sculpture.

"What are you thinking about?"

Not long after, a gentle voice came from behind.

Si Anhe's thoughts were suddenly pulled back. She turned around abruptly and saw a beautiful woman in a dark-patterned cheongsam standing behind her.

The cheongsam accentuated her exquisite figure, and her every move exuded a mature charm, yet also concealed an undeniable dignity.

"Master, when did you arrive?"

Si Anhe immediately lowered her head.

"I've been here for a while now, ever since you started standing here, I've been watching."

The beautiful woman walked slowly to her side, her gaze also fixed on the direction of Zhongzhou, her tone calm and indifferent.

"Today is the day the Holy Sect accepts disciples. Isn't Master going to the front hall to preside over the ceremony?"

Si Anhe's voice was soft.

"Having those old guys keeping an eye on things is enough."

The beautiful woman said calmly.

"Besides, to enter the Heavenly Saint Sect, one must undergo a period of tempering in blood and fire; otherwise, how can one be worthy of this holy robe?"

Si Anhe remained silent upon hearing this, offering no response.

"But it's you."

The beautiful woman suddenly turned to look at her, her gaze sharp, "You went out to train for four years, and when you came back, your cultivation hadn't improved. It seems your heart has been left outside."

As she said this, a hint of coldness flashed across the beautiful woman's brows.

Si Anhe's body trembled slightly, but she still did not raise her head, only saying in a low voice, "This disciple has no such thing."

"No?" The beautiful woman snorted coldly, her voice suddenly turning sharp.

"So you've been standing here motionless for hours? What, is my Heavenly Saintess, the future Holy Maiden of the Heavenly Saint Sect, entering a Buddhist hall and learning meditation?"

She stepped forward, gently lifting Si Anhe's chin with her fingertips, forcing her to look up, her gaze sharp as a knife: "Your expression has already betrayed you. Four years ago, I shouldn't have let you take even half a step out of the Holy Church!"

"I'll see which foolish scoundrel dares to steal my disciple's heart! If I find him, I'll tear him apart, ripping out his soul, so he'll never be reincarnated!"

"don't want!"

Si Anhe suddenly looked up.

Looking at her like this, the coldness between the beautiful woman's brows gradually faded, replaced by an indescribable helplessness: "Will you tell me yourself, or do you want me to investigate personally?"

Upon hearing this, Si Anhe pursed her lips and remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking, her voice as soft as a breeze: "Four years ago, when I left the Holy Sect for training, I found a little boy on the road."

"and then?"

The beautiful woman pressed on, her tone still somewhat cold and hard.

"Then... I raised him for four years."

Si Anhe's voice went even lower.

Upon hearing this, the beautiful woman's voice instantly turned icy cold, as if it could freeze the air: "So for the past four years, you've just spent it raising your child? You haven't devoted even a fraction of your attention to cultivation?"

Si Anhe lowered her eyes and nodded slightly, offering no explanation.

"hehe……"

The beautiful woman laughed in fury, her sharp eyes fixed on her, filled with disappointment and anger. "Si Anhe, are you playing house with me? Then why did you go to such lengths to join the Holy Sect and become my disciple?!"

"He looks a lot like my younger brother."

Si Anhe raised her head, a hint of vulnerability flashing in her eyes.

Upon hearing this, the beautiful woman abruptly stopped the rebuke that was on the tip of her tongue, her eyes flickering slightly.

When Si Anhe entered the Tiansheng Sect's selection ceremony, she was never alone.

On her thin back, she carried a boy who was barely breathing and covered in wounds.

The child was on the verge of death, his breathing so weak it was almost nonexistent, but Si Anhe protected him fiercely, walking step by step, bloodied and bruised, onto the sacred platform.

The Holy Church never does useless work, nor does it rescue the weak without reason. Only if Si Anhe demonstrates a value that can move the elders will the child have a chance of survival.

At that time, Si Anhe was of mediocre talent and ordinary background. Among the thousands of candidates, she was as dim as dust and had no capital to attract attention.

But no one expected that Si Anhe, whose qualifications seemed ordinary, would fight her way through the crowd of candidates with a tenacity that seemed to have been tempered in blood, and stand shoulder to shoulder with four other people to the end.

At that moment, the elders of the sect all turned their heads and vied for the disciple, each wanting to take this ruthless disciple under their wing.

Throughout, Ke Si Anhe made only one request—to save the younger brother on her back.

Such a condition was something the elders would have easily done, but when they carefully examined the boy's aura, they all stopped and looked troubled.

The boy had long since lost all his life force and blood, his soul had returned to the underworld, and he was utterly devoid of life.

Even with their profound cultivation, it would be incredibly difficult for a great cultivator to revive a dead body, even if they were to personally come to the rescue.

Someone whispered a suggestion: they could turn it into a puppet, maintain its form with secret techniques, and then find a way to bring it back to life later.

But Si Anhe, covered in blood and teetering on the verge of collapse, refused, word by word.

At that moment, the last glimmer of light in her eyes was completely extinguished.

The American woman still vividly remembers that year when Si Anhe stood on the altar, covered in blood, her eyes vacant like a soulless doll, she said.

"My brother is dead, so I don't have a brother anymore."

In the end, Si Anhe did not choose any of the elders who were eager to extend olive branches, but instead walked step by step towards her, who had remained at the bottom of the list and had not uttered a word from beginning to end.

"If that's the case, why don't you bring him back?"

The beautiful woman sighed softly, her tone softening slightly.

He said he wanted to practice Buddhism.

Si Anhe's voice was very soft.

"Then we should take him back to the Holy Church even more."

The beautiful woman raised an eyebrow.

"He said... he wanted to enter the Qingxuan Holy Land."

Si Anhe lowered her head even further, her voice filled with dejection.

Upon hearing this, the beautiful woman's lips curled into a cold smile: "Oh? What, is my Heavenly Saint Sect inferior to a mere Pure Profound Holy Land?"

She paused, then suddenly seemed to remember something: "If I remember correctly, today is the entrance trial of the Qingxuan Holy Land, which takes place every ten years."

The beautiful woman's gaze fell on Si Anhe's tense profile, and she saw through her thoughts: "Judging from your appearance, you've probably wanted to go to Zhongzhou for a long time."

Upon hearing this, Si Anhe's eyes lit up instantly, and she said eagerly, "That's..."

"Can't."

Before she could finish speaking, she was interrupted by the beautiful woman's stern voice, "You're not going anywhere."

The beautiful woman looked at her eyes, which had dimmed instantly, and softened her tone slightly: "I'll give you five years. If you can break through to the Nascent Soul stage within five years, I'll let you go to Zhongzhou. Otherwise, give up on that idea and stay in the Holy Sect to cultivate properly."

Si Anhe remained silent for a moment, then raised her head, her eyes shining again, and said firmly, "This disciple promises you that I will definitely break through to the Nascent Soul stage within five years."

After saying that, she glanced one last time in the direction of Zhongzhou, her lips parted slightly as if whispering to the distance: "Five years... little brother, wait for me."

In the blink of an eye, the sun and moon have alternated, and two days have passed.

The path to immortality is no longer as "gentle" as it once was.

The oppressive aura emanating from the stone steps grew increasingly fierce, like an invisible giant mountain pressing down layer by layer.

Such pressure might be insignificant to the cultivators in the main hall.

But for these young men and women who have not yet entered the path of cultivation, it is like the wrath of heaven descending upon the world, and every step seems to crush their bones.

The little boy Si Anhe mentioned was none other than Shen Shuchou. On the third day of the ascension journey, he had already reached the height of the seven hundredth step.

This distance surprised the elders in the main hall who had been watching the water mirror the whole time.

The boy who was initially looked down upon by them has now defied the odds, overtaking most of his competitors and firmly standing at the forefront.

Even Shen Shuchou himself had not expected that his progress would be so rapid.

Whenever he was about to collapse from exhaustion, a surge of power would inexplicably well up within him, slowly repairing his body until he regained his strength.

He assumed it was the system secretly helping him, unaware that Lu Wanheng was behind it all.

Currently, there are only about two hundred steps to the summit of the path to immortality.

Just as Shen Shuchou was about to gather his strength and advance again, a strange movement suddenly occurred beside him.

The instant he turned his head, a richly dressed young man suddenly appeared, wielding a short blade, its cold light aimed directly at his heart.

Shen Shuchou was unable to dodge in time, and the cold blade tip instantly pierced his chest.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly and grabbed the other's wrist tightly, preventing the short blade from sinking too deep.

Even so, scalding blood still gushed from his chest, instantly staining his clothes red.

"Why! Why can you, a self-taught amateur, get this far, while I'm stuck on these seven hundred steps and die!"

Seeing that he had failed to land a blow, the young man in fine clothes became even more distorted with ferocity, and his roar was full of resentment and malice.

He had already exhausted his supply of pills, and even if there were any left, they were insufficient to reverse the decline under the terrifying pressure of the 700th level.

But this "unskilled" person on the other side, who he considered to have no background, has managed to get here step by step.

This gap gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.

He knew he couldn't climb up or come down, and would eventually be crushed into mincemeat by the pressure. But even if he died, he would drag Shen Shuchou down with him!

Hearing the boy's roar, Shen Shuchou's face showed no surprise, only a cold expression.

The next second, under the other party's distorted gaze, he suddenly exerted force, and the boy's body, which was already being pressed down by the pressure and whose bones were cracking, was now easily pried open by him.

Immediately afterwards, Shen Shuchou, without changing his expression, gripped the short blade that was piercing his chest and forcefully pulled it out!

Blood gushed out instantly, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, coldly staring at the boy before him.

"You're right, I'm a self-taught individual. But I'm the protagonist of this world, and unfortunately, you aren't."

He paused, raised the bloodstained dagger in his hand, and said in a calm but chilling tone, "And thank you for your knife."

Upon seeing this, the finely dressed youth was about to unleash a torrent of curses when a blood-stained glint flashed before his eyes.

The next second, blood gushed from his fragile neck. With disbelief and resentment on his face, he collapsed heavily onto the stone steps and fell silent.

Having dealt with the boy, Shen Shuchou casually tore off a piece of his clothes, hastily bandaged the wound on his chest, and continued walking upwards.

Such incidents are not uncommon on the path to immortality.

When hope is completely shattered, people in dire straits are often consumed by resentful anger, which eventually transforms into twisted malice, wanting to drag others into the abyss as well.

From the 500th step onwards, the stone steps are devoid of youthful vigor, replaced only by endless despair and carnage.

The cracking sound of bones breaking could be heard from time to time. Some people could not withstand the overwhelming power of heaven, and their bodies collapsed with a bang, turning into pools of blood and mud that stuck to the cold stone steps.

Since he himself was destined to be an immortal, he would drag others down into purgatory with him.

Some teenagers had their limbs torn apart by the pressure, and the severed limbs rolled down the steps.

Some were beheaded by their attackers, their bodies separated from their heads.

Others exhausted their last bit of strength, collapsed to the ground, and watched helplessly as their bodies were gradually crushed into a bloody mist by the ever-increasing pressure.

This place is no longer a trial path for selecting prodigies, but a living hell. The stone steps are blackened by blood.

Each step he took crushed the still-wet flesh and blood, the path ahead shrouded in corpses and blood mist.

Only those who survive are qualified to touch that unattainable gate to immortality.