The Sect Conference concluded about two weeks after Su Min began her seclusion. As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.
After the competition came another major event—the division of territories.
Or, more accurately, the delineation of each sect's protective jurisdiction. These sects were akin to nations in the mortal world, often clashing with one another. And for now, the Fallen lacked the strength to openly challenge the sects.
A true alliance between them was impossible. In fact, they were riddled with mutual suspicion. Human nature was the same, even in the world of cultivation.
So, the simplest solution was to divide the territories—each sect would be responsible for a specific region. Under the noble pretense of "protecting the common people," they used this opportunity to formalize their claims.
Su Min saw through this farce but couldn't be bothered to participate. She had already staked out her own domain. As for the more powerful Fallen—some of whom were once Mahayana-stage existences—most sects scoffed at the idea.
"Those who half-heartedly severed their cultivation are already crippled. Unless they cut everything like Yao Xian'er did, they're nothing but inferior remnants."
They simply didn't care.
Su Min had warned them, but unless one knew the future like she did, it was easy to dismiss such concerns. The Fallen were already here—she lacked the power to stop them. All she could do was focus on her own preparations.
The actual negotiations over territory were handled by the Nascent Soul-stage elders of each sect. A loose alliance was formed, though its only real purpose was to offer empty condolences if a sect was annihilated.
A month later...
"Grand Elder, the negotiations are complete. The Eastern Mulberry Province and the four adjacent provinces are under our jurisdiction. Another seven or eight minor provinces were also nominally assigned to us—though I refused formal responsibility for them."
Su Min let out a cold snort. "Cowards. They're just trying to dump their problems on me under the guise of 'protection.' Larger territory means more conflict with the Fallen. They want us to bleed while they watch from their comfortable halls. Do I look like a saint to them?"
Those minor provinces weren't worth the ink used to sign them away. No spiritual veins. No mines. Just barren land and broken borders. The other sects had clung to the rich territories while tossing the scraps at her, dressed up in the language of unity.
But Su Min had never been one to put faith in paper treaties. True security came from strength. And hers was no longer something they could dismiss.
An anomaly—that's what they called her now. Not born of the ancient sects. Not bound by their lineages. And yet she stood above them all, backed by the remnants of the Golden Crow Clan, the former sovereigns of demon beasts. Powerful enough to be feared, useful enough to be tolerated. None dared move against her openly, but their schemes lingered like incense smoke—sweet, poisonous, and impossible to pin down.
At best, they tried moral blackmail. Veiled questions like, "Shouldn't someone like you do more for the world?"
But Su Min had long stopped pretending she owed anyone anything.
"Let's return. From now on, everyone fends for themselves."
Tian Yinzi nodded without argument. Even he knew better than to try reasoning with her when her tone turned that cold.
She sighed, the weight of recent events pressing down on her chest like a hand she couldn't quite shrug off. Divine Transformation-stage cultivation was still too weak.
Or perhaps, nothing was truly invincible.
Even in the "first playthrough" of this world, the story had never reached a true conclusion. Her knowledge only extended so far—beyond that, she had to feel her way forward.
But one thing was certain: hiding forever wasn't an option.
To the Fallen, her immortal body was a walking miracle. A supreme tonic. As long as she existed, they would come. And so, she couldn't afford rest. Couldn't afford ties. Couldn't afford to be known.
She would inevitably face greater dangers, so she couldn't afford to pause for even a moment. Eternally walking forward like this meant everyone else would be left behind.
And Su Min had already buried enough ghosts.
While the Great Luo Tian Province was relatively safe, the regions without major sects had suffered terribly.
Not only were ordinary people being devoured, but even cultivators were being slaughtered en masse. Without sects to support them—or Nascent Soul experts to lead them—reaching the Golden Core stage was nearly impossible.
Many had already begun migrating to the major provinces. During the conference, most attendees weren't sect disciples but rogue cultivators desperately seeking refuge. Unfortunately, sects were extremely selective about outsiders. Unless absolutely necessary, they wouldn't take in many. Most of these wanderers would never find sanctuary.
But at worst, they'd just live harder lives.
"Grand Elder," Tian Yinzi interrupted her thoughts. "Reports indicate that a Fallen has been spotted in the Wei Wu Province. An entire city in the desert region vanished overnight—tens of thousands of people gone."
Su Min's expression darkened, killing intent surging. She couldn't afford to hunt the Fallen recklessly—doing so would provoke their collective retaliation. But if they dared encroach on her territory, that was a different matter.
Other Fallen would simply shrug and say, "Serves them right for provoking the wrong person." The world was vast, and remote areas were easy targets.
"What did Elder Zhu say?"
"By the time he arrived, it was too late. The deaths of over 100,000 people will keep that monster fed for weeks. Based on its movements, it'll likely strike next in the Southern Borderlands of Wei Wu Province."
Tian Yinzi glanced cautiously at Su Min. They had investigated her past after the worlds merged. The Great Yong's royal family and cultivators now held slightly higher status in their sect—after all, that nation had been shaped by her hands.
And the Southern Borderlands… that was where she had fled to in her early years, where she had truly begun her rise.
"The Southern Borderlands, huh…"
Her past whispered through that name like an old song she hadn't heard in centuries. It was where she'd once fled with nothing. Where she'd fought tooth and nail just to survive. Where her name had meant nothing—and then, suddenly, everything.
She could still remember the scent of wet bamboo and stone. The cries of hawkers in the market streets. The dusty road where she had once broken a chieftain's legs for wanting her to be his concubine.
Everyone from that time was gone. Even those who'd touched cultivation hadn't lived long. Golden Core cultivators were rare, and few reached Nascent Soul.
Her heart should've been untouched by this.
Should've been.
But a flicker of memory curled beneath her ribs like a slow-burning coal.
"Also, Grand Elder," Tian Yinzi added, "a bamboo spirit in the Southern Borderlands recently broke through to the Nascent Soul stage. It's said you planted it yourself. That Fallen's target might be it—it's neither human nor spirit beast, and it's the only Nascent Soul existence in Wei Wu Province."
"They're still alive?"
Her voice was soft. Not disbelieving—just... distant.
She had planted dozens, maybe hundreds, back then. In her past life, she had seen trees live for centuries—let alone in this world. Plants gaining sentience was rarer than beasts transforming, but once they did, their lifespans were far longer. Even ordinary bamboo could live for centuries.
It had been 600-700 years since she left. If any of the bamboo spirits she planted survived, reaching the Golden Core stage was expected.
But it seemed only one of them had made it this far.
More importantly, she had another reason to act.
To obtain the White Tiger's legacy, there was only one path: kill.
Unlike the other three divine beasts, the White Tiger thrived on slaughter. If Su Min wanted its inheritance, she had to walk a bloody road.
But she refused to slaughter innocents. This Fallen, however, was a perfect target.
And with her Divine Transformation stage cultivation, traveling across Wei Wu Province was effortless.
"Understood."
Tian Yinzi said nothing more. Su Min's direct bloodline had been wiped out by the Emperor Wei centuries ago. By the time she revealed her identity to the world, no true relatives remained. But this was still her homeland. It was impossible not to feel something.
"Keep this quiet. If that Fallen knows I'm coming, it'll go into hiding."
She activated a soundproof barrier around herself. Only Tian Yinzi knew her plans—and he wouldn't speak of them.
As for safety? There was no need to worry.
Su Min had already proven that her combat power rivaled any Half-Step Dao Comprehension expert. That Fallen was definitely not at the Dao Comprehension stage.
The Black Serpent had only recovered to that level because two Divine Transformation monks willingly let it devour them. Otherwise, reaching that stage so soon would've been impossible.
And even if it were at the Dao Comprehension stage?
She still had one last drop of Xie Yingying's blood essence. If pushed, she'd use it without hesitation.
(She had originally planned to use it during the conference but found it unnecessary.)
Though now, with three heavenly treasures, its effects weren't as explosive as before.
A few days later…
Wei Wu Province.
The land of her beginning.
When Su Min stood at the edge of the Southern Borderlands, wind catching the edge of her sleeves, a strange ache stirred in her chest.
The mountains had changed. The borders carved open by violence. A direct path to Yao Xin Province now cut clean through what were once natural fortresses. Time had reshaped the terrain—but not her memories.
Here was where she had lived nameless and rootless.
Here was where she had become something.
Everyone from then was gone.
She had outlived them all.
That was the irony of her body, her cultivation—not a curse, but a choice.
Before all this, she had been a player staring at a screen. Just another person trying to escape the grind of reality with a slow-paced, difficult cultivation sim. Path of Immortality had promised freedom, strategy, and a sandbox world of endless possibilities. She remembered hesitating over her build: [Immortality], a rare talent that made her immune to aging and most poisons, always maintain her body in perfect stage; and [Heavenly Dao Insight], an innate divine ability that let her slowly comprehend techniques just by existing beneath the heavens.
It had been a min-maxer's dream. Late bloomer, but eventually unstoppable.
She'd clicked "Confirm"—and never logged out again.
No tutorial. No reset.
Just this vast world, its rules binding her flesh and spirit alike. Her talents weren't virtual—they were etched into her very being.
And the cost? Time. Everyone else moved forward and died, while she stayed. Seasons changed, dynasties fell, sects rose and crumbled—but she endured. The girl who once planned for endgame strength now found herself watching the game board rot beneath her feet.
Yes, she was eternal.
But eternity, in the end, was a kind of silence.
Not because of a curse, but because she had lived long enough to learn that sentiment was a luxury. Bonds became graves. Affection invited grief. So, she had long stopped reaching out—closing herself off behind layers of cultivation, logic, and detachment.
Only one person had ever slipped past those walls.
And that was dangerous in its own right.
Su Min didn't want to care about this place. She shouldn't care.
But the moment her eyes found the bamboo groves rising in the mist—the faint pressure of Nascent Soul cultivation radiating like a quiet heartbeat—something softened.
One of her plants had survived.
Only one.
But one was enough.
"That Fallen won't pass up such an opportunity. But I won't reveal myself—the fewer who know the plan, the better. Let's see what you're capable of."
The Southern Borderlands' Hundred Thousand Mountains were nothing like she remembered.
After the worlds merged, this region became the frontline bordering the Yao Xin Province. Natural barriers that once seemed insurmountable had been forcibly breached. A direct route to the Yao Xin Province had been carved straight through the mountains.
The Southern Borderlands' people now lived peacefully under the bamboo spirit's protection. Before leaving, Su Min had entrusted her plants to them.
Nurtured by centuries of worship, the bamboo spirit had become inseparable from the locals. Even the Great Wei court wouldn't provoke them—as long as they nominally submitted.
"My old house is still standing? And it's been maintained? Wait—why is it a tourist attraction now?!"
But what truly baffled Su Min was that her former residence had been preserved as a historical site. After the worlds merged and her identity became widely known, the locals had restored her home, built a temple, and turned it into a pilgrimage site.
"The Former Abode of the Danxian, Su Min—Founder of the Great Yong, Living Legend of the Cultivation World. Here, she resided for decades, watching the tides of fate, laughing at the rise and fall of dynasties. With her pills, she saved countless heroes from despair…"
Reading the plaque, Su Min couldn't help but chuckle.
She was disguised as an ordinary Body refining stage cultivator, her face hidden behind a mask.
Mostly, she was just curious.
"Ahead lies the Danxian's pill-refining chamber and the bamboo grove that birthed the Green Bamboo Immortal… Huh. So this is what it feels like."
Seeing her own home turned into a tourist attraction was… a unique experience.
(As for how she traveled between worlds—that was no longer a secret.)