The improved female villains regained their memories.

"It should be fine..." Song Panning murmured to herself, her fingers moving incessantly in the air, each rune precise as if already etched into her very bones.

However, just as she was about to complete the final step, something unexpected happened.

"puff!"

A mouthful of blood spurted from Song Panning's mouth, staining her clothes red.

The light of the great formation dimmed instantly, then shattered with a crash, turning into specks of starlight that dissipated into the air.

Qingtian peeked out from the side, flicking his tongue, his eyes full of concern.

Song Panning raised her hand to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth, her face terribly gloomy.

Her gaze was fixed on the shattered formation, her mind churning with countless thoughts.

"No matter how many times, it's always the same."

She had gone through the process countless times, repeatedly confirming each step to ensure there were no mistakes.

But each time, she failed at the last step. Song Panning frowned, a suspicion forming in her mind.

"It seems that the great array techniques that Wen Shihan gave me really were problematic."

Song Panning was not unprepared. She had long considered that Wen Shihan might trick her, so she carefully examined everything he provided—from blueprints to secret techniques—and only began to implement it after confirming that everything was correct.

However, no matter how she builds it, she will ultimately fail at this step.

"Time..." Song Panning closed her eyes, her mind replaying the details of each failure.

Instead of thinking about how to solve the problem, she was thinking about Wen Shihan's intentions in doing so.

"We've already cooperated, even if they wanted to harm me, they wouldn't go this far..." she muttered to herself, her brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck her, as if she had grasped something crucial.

"The problem isn't with Wen Shihan, it's with the timing."

"There's a problem with the timing!"

Chapter 731 Incarnation

The morning mist, like wisps of silk, gently entwined the blue-brick courtyard. The copper bells hanging from the eaves remained motionless, as if even the wind had held its breath. In the courtyard of the west wing, an old locust tree stretched out its gnarled branches, the tips of its leaves clinging to the dew of the previous night, yet refusing to drip, as if even the water droplets had tactfully stopped time.

The side gate creaked softly, startling three gray pigeons on the eaves. They flapped their wings, their sounds unusually clear in the deathly silence, but no one peeked out. The morning light climbed onto the brick carvings of the screen wall, making the eyes of the bats in the "Five Blessings Surrounding Longevity" pattern appear blood red, while the remaining night dew in the shadows seeped quietly into the depths of the brick cracks along the relief of the qilin stepping on clouds.

Yang Pingsheng pushed open the door and walked out of the room, where he saw Yang Luoyi standing under the corridor, looking at him with a complicated expression.

“Mother is here,” Yang Luo said, turning around, her tone tinged with helplessness.

Yang Pingsheng had already sensed that familiar aura. He looked up slightly and saw a figure gracefully land in front of him.

Her golden hair was tinged with honey in the morning light, and the slightly open hem of her dress was neatly cinched at the waist by a silver thread sash. Her shimmering eyes curved into crescents the moment she saw Yang Pingsheng, her pale golden willow-leaf eyebrows arched slightly on her forehead, and coral tassels dangling from her hair swept across her alabaster earlobes.

Shi Guijia wore a modified indigo short blouse adorned with dark silver cloud patterns. The wide sleeves were finished with ochre brocade. She paired it with dark black wide-leg trousers and soft deerskin boots. As she moved, one could glimpse the magical artifact hanging at her waist, which was emitting a faint blue light.

Her pupils shimmered with a golden light, as if they contained endless stars.

"Beautiful eyes, Xiaojia," Yang Pingsheng said softly, his tone gentle.

“Ping, Pingsheng…” Shi Guijia glanced away slightly, her face flushed, and her voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

Yang Luoyi, standing not far away, rubbed his forehead, feeling somewhat anxious.

Watching this scene, she sighed inwardly, "Even a mother would become like this when facing Yang Pingsheng."

The crackling sound of burning firewood drifted from the western kitchen, and wisps of smoke lingered near the treetops. A black cat extended its barbed tongue, licking the locust blossom nectar from its paws, before suddenly leaping towards the roof of the neighboring house. The clear clinking of tiles awakened the copper bell under the eaves; in the lingering, melodious sound, it was already perched in the tree, its amber eyes silently watching the scene unfold before it.

The morning light spilled over the swastika-patterned wall, casting a long, thin shadow of the cat.

Yang Pingsheng looked at Shi Guijia and said gently, "I've finished cooking. Would you like to eat together?"

"No, no need." Shi Guijia hurriedly waved her hand, her tone tinged with panic. "The great battle is approaching, and I still need to refine my weapons. Whatever you need, just let Luo Yi do it."

Yang Pingsheng was slightly taken aback. Before he could speak, Shi Guijia hurriedly said, "I came here to tell you that you chose Su Murong as your partner, and I am now cooperating with her. In other words, I will support you."

"Ah, Xiaojia, you..."

Just as Yang Pingsheng was about to say something, Shi Guijia transformed into a golden ray of light and quickly disappeared into the morning light.

Yang Pingsheng stood there, calmly watching the direction Shi Guijia had left, and sighed helplessly.

He turned to look at Yang Luoyi and asked, "What happened to your mother?"

Yang Luo spread his hands: "Can't you tell? Sorry."

"What's there to be embarrassed about?" Yang Pingsheng asked, somewhat puzzled.

"How should I know? Ask you guys." Yang Luo rolled her eyes.

Yang Pingsheng remained silent for a moment, and finally just sighed softly.

Looking at his expression, Yang Luoyi couldn't help but complain, "That's why I hate people who are obsessed with love."

-------------

Before the morning mist dissipated, pomegranate branches peeking out from the blue brick wall were still covered with dewdrops, and wisps of warm smoke were already rising from the stone table.

A large celadon bowl holds amber-colored osmanthus and lotus root porridge. The thick, glossy rice porridge coats translucent lotus root slices and is topped with tiny golden osmanthus blossoms. The sweet aroma, mixed with the refreshing coolness of well water, wafts straight to your nose.

The bamboo steamer baskets were stacked in three layers. The top layer of jade-green steamed dumplings revealed glimpses of the vibrant green of chopped shepherd's purse, with glistening oil droplets clinging to the edges of the chive leaves. The middle layer consisted of golden-brown, crisp sesame cakes, with a few hulled white sesame seeds scattered on the bluestone tabletop. The bottom layer was a fluffy, cloud-like red date cake, its cracks oozing honey-colored syrup that shimmered with an amber glow in the morning light.

A white-glazed plum vase held a gardenia, still glistening with dew, its fragrance mingling with the tangy aroma of pickled plums in the morning breeze. A crabapple-shaped tiered box held eight small dishes: slices of rouge-colored radish curled into petal shapes, shredded tender ginger mixed with orange peel mounds, amber-colored peach kernels coated with a thin, crisp sugar coating, and crisp, glistening pickled cucumbers drizzled with sesame oil.

The earthenware pot on the stove in the east corner bubbled and gurgled, the aroma of freshly brewed pre-rain tea mingling with the steaming heat of scallion-filled steamed egg custard, all under the grape trellis glistening with dewdrops. The surface of the custard was covered with glistening water droplets, its pale yellow hue dotted with vibrant green scallions, and underneath lay finely chopped shrimp paste, its savory flavor seeping out in delicate strands.

The bamboo curtain was half-rolled up, revealing a bowl of sweet rice wine warming on a square table inside. The milky white liquid, with longan pulp floating on top, swayed gently in the rough earthenware bowl. A half-red fingerprint remained on the edge of a celadon dish, and a dark blue robe was draped over a stone bench, the night dew clinging to its hem gradually turning dark in the morning light.

Qi Feng nestled at Yang Pingsheng's feet, its tail tip gently patting him. Yang Pingsheng's fingers held half a rice cake, crumbs falling softly onto his coarse cloth clothes. Suddenly, the cat perked up its ears, its wet nose brushing against the back of Yang Pingsheng's drooping hand.

It let out a howl, picked it up, and ran off.

Yang Luoyi, sitting beside him, watched this scene and couldn't help but ask, "Shouldn't cats eat fish?"

Qi Feng ignored it, so Yang Pingsheng explained for it: "Qi Feng is different."

What's the difference? Aren't they all cats?

Yang Luo thought disdainfully as she ate the steamed egg custard in her bowl.

They didn't actually need to eat, but Yang Pingsheng did it whenever Yang Luo had this need.

With the help of Dao Zhenhen, his cooking skills improved even more.

The fragrance was so strong that it attracted another person.

Her silver hair, like an icefall, cascaded down to her waist, shimmering with the faint light of melting frost and snow.

Her amber eyes shimmered with moisture, as if holding the pristine morning dew from the summit of Kunlun Mountain, and her long, slender eyelashes trembled, scattering tiny starlight. Her pale pink fingertips, which should have been innocently childlike, seemed to pulsate with a subtle, lively spirit.

The movement of her bare feet across the lake in the courtyard splashed up tiny water droplets, and the plain gauze skirt embroidered with snow lotuses was covered with the fragrance of bamboo leaves.

As she tilted her head to examine Yang Luo, the murderous intent in her eyes flickered.

"Sister, you're out of seclusion?" Yang Pingsheng greeted her. "Would you like to have something to eat?"

The sunlight blocked the shadows, and the murderous intent that had been flickering in Luo Benmo's eyes faded. He looked at Yang Pingsheng and said calmly, "No, I have to go out for a bit."

Are you coming back tonight?

"Ah."

"Shall we eat together tonight?"

"Ah."

Yang Luo looked at it, then suddenly blinked her big eyes and said cutely, "Father, I want to eat that."

The fading murderous intent resurfaced faintly.

Luo Benmo snorted coldly and turned to leave.

The courtyard fell silent again. Yang Pingsheng looked at Yang Luoyi with a hint of helplessness: "What good will doing this do you?"

Didn't you say you were going to help? How come you're making things worse?

Yang Luo smiled and said, "There's no benefit to it, but I'm having a good time."

Who told Luo Benmo to beat her up back in the Second World?

-------------

The crimson palace walls shimmered with distorted heat in the daylight, and lava-like fiery patterns flowed across the glazed tiles, as if the entire palace were ablaze.

Xu Anyin stood in mid-air, and the moment she raised her palm, the thirty-six red copper lamps hanging on the eaves suddenly burst into blue flames. The fiery stream formed by the fire spirit energy meandered down the carved beams and pillars, leaving tortoise-shell-shaped cracks on the white marble floor. The earth trembled in response to her power.

The lion-shaped statue perched on the door knocker of the main hall suddenly turned its eyes, spewing out three-foot-long tongues of golden-red flames from its mouth, the intense heat assaulting the senses. Xu Anyin placed her palm on the scorching bronze beast head, and flames immediately climbed up her wide sleeves embroidered with phoenixes and peonies, burning intricate array patterns onto the surface of her gold-embroidered brocade robe. Inside the hall, nine golden dragon pillars were spewing liquid flames, and the Twenty-Eight Mansions map painted on the dome was ignited by flowing crimson light, the Vermilion Bird constellation shining so brightly it seemed to drip sparks, as if the entire palace was under her control.

Xu Anlu sat on the throne, her expression indifferent, letting her younger sister set up the formation nearby.

She wore a long, wide-sleeved robe with a black brocade phoenix pattern, the cuffs brushing against the dragon-head armrests. The girl, seated on the dragon throne, wore a twelve-tassel crown, but a strand of unruly black hair stuck out from between the pearl and jade curtains.

The morning light pierced through the glass dome, gilding the tuft of hair on her head, making her appear both majestic and playful.

She sensed the approaching oppressive aura even earlier than Xu Anyin, and said softly, "Alright, Xiaoyin, that's enough."

Her voice was clear and calm, yet carried an undeniable authority. Upon hearing this, Xu Anyin stopped what she was doing, retreated behind her elder sister, and looked warily toward the palace gate.

"The other side has already arrived," Xu Anlu said calmly, her tone carrying a hint of understanding.

As soon as the words were spoken, the palace doors opened automatically. A surge of violent spiritual energy rushed in, suppressing all the crimson light within the hall.

Silver hair danced in the air like a swarm of snakes, and hissing sounds seemed to echo in one's ears.

Luo Benmo appeared at the doorway, her gaze as cold as a knife, sweeping across every inch of the hall.

Xu Anyin stumbled back a few steps, standing behind Xu Anlu, a hint of resentment flashing in his eyes.

The traces of the Great Dao appeared inside the hall, and the violent spiritual energy immediately began to be suppressed, as if even the air had become heavy.

"Luo Benmo, you didn't come here to fight me, did you?" Xu An asked, his tone somewhat probing.

Luo Benmo sneered and retorted, "What do you think?"

Her voice was cold and deep, as if it came from the abyss.

The two female villains' gazes met in mid-air, and invisible sparks flew. They both knew that the other was no pushover.