Prologue

My name is Xia Yu. I am thirteen years old this year. They say that when I was born, a gentle rain suddenly began to fall, and on a whim, my father gave me this name. When I was little, I often listened to my father describing how vast and perilous the world was, how darkness often lurked behind beautiful masks. I would burst into tears, terrified, never wanting to venture outside.

Our family lives in a village called Seeking Immortals. My father said there were immortals in this world, but I never believed him. Only when I heard that immortals from the Mystic Sound Sect were coming to our village to recruit disciples did I finally accept that such beings might truly exist.

As soon as news spread that immortals were recruiting, every family brought out their daughters to be tested for immortal fate, dreaming that their child might ascend to such heights.

My father told me the Mystic Sound Sect only accepted female disciples, so that detestable man insisted on taking me along. I refused. The world outside is far too frightening. But try as I might, I could not overcome my father’s bull-like strength.

Was my father really going to send me into the world and leave me behind? I wept in terror.

The recruitment of disciples by immortals was meant to be a joyous occasion. To cry at such a time might anger the immortals, shattering everyone’s dreams.

The villagers scolded my father, accusing him of failing to raise a proper daughter. To make a scene during the immortal’s recruitment—what an ill-mannered wild girl, they said. Seeing the kindly aunts of my childhood transformed into fierce shrews, I trembled with fear and could only hide behind my father’s broad back, silently crying, unable to help him fend off the scolding women.

Then—whoosh—a female immortal, standing atop a flying sword, descended before me. Terrified that she would take me away and abandon me in the outside world, I tried to hide behind my father, but he only pushed me forward, smiling as he did so. I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to go out into the world. Crying, I tried to throw myself into his arms.

But my father’s patience ran out. I had never seen him so angry. Fear rooted me to the spot, leaving me lonely and helpless.

The immortal woman approached, gently stroked my head, and asked if I was willing to go with her. I shook my head vigorously. She asked why, and I recounted everything my father had told me about the dangers of the world.

She was not so easily deterred and tried to force me to leave. She became the villain in my eyes, and I slapped her hand away. Her eyes flashed with cold light, and an inexplicable pressure suffocated me—I felt I might die.

Then, another immortal woman descended from the sky and stopped her. I collapsed on the ground, trembling; that brush with death was even more terrifying than my father’s anger.

The villainous immortal and the newcomer mounted their flying swords and vanished into the sky.

But my nightmare was only beginning.

Because of me, no one from our village was chosen. Every day, villagers gathered at our door to hurl insults. The children threw stones at our house, so that peace was lost from my home.

They were many, and my mother and I were powerless to resist. I regretted my stubbornness, feeling deeply guilty for bringing such trouble upon my family. I didn’t know what to do.

One night, bandits raided the village, blood flowing everywhere, bodies strewn about. My father quickly threw me into a water vat, handed me a hollow tube, and told me not to come out.

In the darkness and cold, hunger gnawed at me. Unable to bear it any longer, I cautiously poked my head out. Silence had fallen; only the scent of blood and the biting night wind remained.

I crept from the vat and stumbled inside to search for my parents. The darkness hid the way, and I tripped over something soft. Lighting an oil lamp with a tinderbox, I saw what lay before me.

My father and mother lay on the ground, blood streaming from their chests. “Father, mother, are you resting here? Won’t you catch cold?” I whispered.

My parents had been slain by bandits. I didn’t even have money for their coffins and could only sell myself to a wealthy man’s family in town to pay for their burial.

The moment I left, the villagers cursed me as a bringer of misfortune, pelting me with filth. I was already numb with despair, a soulless shell drifting through the world.

The wealthy man paid for my parents’ burial, and I agreed to go live at his residence. But as soon as I arrived in town, a gang of thugs kidnapped me. They forced poison down my throat. Just before I died, they told me the man’s concubine had ordered it.

I hated the bandits. I hated this world. I hated the cruel women of my village. I hated my own helplessness. As for that concubine, I do not hate you. Thank you for setting me free.