8
Being falsely accused and then forced to cut open your own belly and tear out your heart to prove your innocence was wrong from the start.
Anyone else could casually open their mouth and tell a lie, yet the person being slandered had to tear everything out of herself.
And what did that prove? No one believed her anyway.
It merely became gossip for them to trade over tea.
—“Did that really happen?”
—“The person involved says it didn’t. Who knows?”
—“True. No one would ever admit to something like that.”
—“She never struck me as much of a good person anyway.”
If kindness has become chains binding us, then let’s break them.
Phù Tang turned the sword in her hand and suddenly slit the rumor-spreader’s throat.
She casually flourished her sword, wiped the blood from her face, and curled her lips into a smile.
“So what if I practice dual cultivation?
I stand here today. So what if the cultivation method I practice requires killing?
You cowards—who among you dares stand up for justice and tell me I’ve done something wrong?
If Heaven won’t answer me, then I am Heaven!”
Thunder rumbled across the sky.
The Heavenly Dao was enraged by the insolence of a mere ant.
The God of War stepped in front of the Water Mirror, his face full of admiration for Phù Tang.
“This is the courage and boldness the strong ought to have.
Let me give her a gift and help her ascend sooner!”
A sudden sense of foreboding came over me.
But I had to control the Water Mirror, and I couldn’t do both at once, so I wasn’t able to stop the God of War in time.
I saw a streak of light fly toward Phù Tang.
The God of War laughed heartily. “Actually, even if she kills her husband to prove her Dao, she still won’t be able to ascend!”
“I only succeeded because I truly regarded her as my wife. You’ll never be acknowledged unless you personally kill the person you love most.”
Phù Tang in the Water Mirror suddenly froze and looked down, her expression strange.
The God of War’s gaze burned with excitement.
“So I personally gave her someone she would love most.
Surely there isn’t a mother in the world who doesn’t love her child!”
In an instant, Phù Tang’s belly swelled as if it had been inflated.
She raised her head and stared coldly at the sky.
Perhaps she understood why this was happening, too.
9
If she had no one she loved most, then they would create someone for her to love most, so she could kill her child to prove her Dao and ascend sooner.
This world really was insane.
I heard the Immortal Lords around me cheering her on: “Keep going! Give birth to the baby and you’ll be able to ascend!”
But Phù Tang couldn’t hear them.
She stared at her belly for a while, then suddenly drew her sword and plunged it into her abdomen.
She reached into the bloody mess of her belly and pulled out the child Heaven had given her.
Everyone was stunned by this sudden turn of events.
The God of War gaped, apparently unable to believe it.
“That’s her child—a living, breathing life! How could she bring herself to kill it with her own hands?”
“If she’d waited just a little longer, it could have been born. Such an adorable little boy, and he hadn’t even had a chance to see this world once.”
I looked at the God of War strangely, thinking he seemed a little dim.
I asked, “The child was forced upon her. Shouldn’t she be the one to decide whether it lives or dies?”
“Phù Tang’s bodily autonomy should come before this child’s life.”
I reached out as well, sending Phù Tang a thread of divine power to keep her body from being harmed.
She lowered her sword and sank to the ground in a pool of blood.
A power that did not belong to the Heavenly Dao gradually welled up inside her.
Everyone was familiar with this power.
Phù Tang abandoned her attempt to ascend and fell into the demonic path.
In this life, she would never ascend.
10
I hadn’t expected Phù Tang to give up ascending so resolutely.
No one had expected this life’s ending to come so quickly.
I won again, but I didn’t feel happy at all.
I only felt as though tens of thousands of needles were pricking my heart, urging me to do something for her.
The God of War raised his mace, his face twisted with rage and his eyes bloodshot.
He wanted to smash the Water Mirror to vent his fury.
But unfortunately for him, he had lost the bet.
I easily wrested the God of War’s divine power from him.
I focused and examined it, only to discover something strange.
His divine power was incomplete.
That was why he acted like a brute, mistakenly believing that strength was everything.
Little did he know that brute force without brains would eventually cost him his life.
I absorbed the divine power into my body and felt warmth spread through me.
Countless fighting urges surged within me, but this power did not take control of my mind.
No one knew why I had been trapped on this mountain for so many years.
It wasn’t because I wanted to be there. It was because a fragment of power had always been missing from within me.
It kept me from using my full divine power.
I had spent many years thinking it over, but still couldn’t find a solution.
And for some reason, my memories had grown increasingly confused.
Fortunately, my divine power was complete now.
A flash of insight came to me, and a long-unfelt warmth filled my whole body.
All these years, trapped atop this high mountain, I had neither seen the suffering of the people nor heard their anguished cries.
At last, in this moment, I was free of all restraints.
I closed my eyes in thought. None of the Immortal Lords around me dared make a rash move.
They stared at me, so terrified their hair stood on end.
They were waiting for my judgment.
Because at last, I remembered.
Everything had begun to change one day, a thousand years ago.
That day, an unprecedented calamity struck the Heavenly Realm.
The first man in the mortal world to cultivate his way to ascension arrived in the Heavenly Realm.
He was the Lord God.
11
In truth, he had planned all of this in advance.
There are countless worlds, each with its own faith.
As the first Goddess of the Heavenly Realm, I am also known as the Mother God.
My faith originated in the traditions passed down through generations of matriarchal society.
Generation after generation passed away, yet they continued to sing and dance, celebrating life and hope.
Then society changed, and the emergence of a patriarchal society became inevitable.
My divine power began to weaken, but that was nothing to worry about.
The course of history is like a wheel in motion; no one can stop it.
I was no exception.
As long as women still have hope for life, I will endure forever.
A fragile flower, a clear tear, a seed brimming with vitality.
Any of them could be me.
I exist in countless forms throughout the world, protecting everyone by their side.
But then, one day, a man ascended from the mortal world for the first time.
His name was Phục Khải.
As soon as he arrived in the Heavenly Realm, the power of the Gods dazzled him.
His nature drove him to seize what he wanted and destroy everything that wasn't his.
I heard him mutter to himself, “If the benefits aren't mine, then they have no reason to exist.”
He imposed the rules and systems of the mortal realm on the Heavenly Realm and proclaimed himself the “Lord God.”
I disagreed, because the Heavenly Realm had never had social classes. All the gods had just one duty: to use their power wisely and bring hope to the lives of all people.
We were friends, sisters—not anyone's possessions.
The power of faith made me mighty. Seeing that he could not defeat me, Phục Khải returned to the mortal realm.
I thought he had come to his senses.
But my divine power continued to weaken.