Chapter 258: The Presence Hidden in Shadows
The original scene was pretty straightforward. Lin Yao returns to her room, thinks briefly about her family, and then Su Min shows up. Structurally it works, but I felt it skipped over a really important emotional moment. Lin Yao isn't just background here. She's someone quietly carrying the cost of being a cultivator while still living in a mortal world.
Original:
[Now she is also facing the first calamity for a cultivator, the calamity of immortality.]
That one line is full of meaning, but in the original it feels almost casual. I wanted to slow it down so the reader could really sit with it.
I expanded it into a reflection on what choosing the cultivation path really means, especially for someone like Lin Yao who wasn't born into it, doesn't have a divine destiny, and doesn't have Su Min's distance. She loves, she grieves, she stays.
I added:
[Lin Yao was now left to confront the cultivator's first true trial, the Tribulation of Longevity… one could only watch, again and again, as loved ones aged and faded… while the cultivator stood untouched, unaging.]
I also highlighted the contrast with Su Min, which was already in the original:
[Not everyone is like Su Min. As a transmigrator she can keep a certain distance from almost everyone.]
I wanted to show that Su Min isn't just a transmigrator. She's someone who chose the Immortality talent. That means more than following a cultivation path. It means treating time as expendable. It means stepping away from bonds. It means expecting to be alone.
Immortality isn't just power or transcendence. It's loss. Su Min can stay emotionally distant, but Lin Yao can't or doesn't want to. That contrast is quietly tragic but also quietly brave. She knows it will slow her cultivation. She knows it could cost her later. But she stays anyway, because for her, love is worth the pain. That's the emotional core I wanted to bring out.
Then we move to Su Min's entrance.
Original:
["You, you look like you're doing well, Instructor Lin."]
A simple, lighthearted line. But placed after Lin Yao's inner struggle, it takes on more weight. Su Min isn't just a cultivator showing up. She's a ghost from a life Lin Yao can never fully return to. Someone who chose a different path, someone who keeps moving forward no matter the cost.
Chapter 261: Setting the Bait
The original chapter gave little hints of Lin Yao's growing feelings for Su Min with just a line or two, plus a quick flash of gratitude during a rescue. It worked, but I felt that undercurrent deserved more weight. Lin Yao's whole arc has quietly been building toward this, from loyalty to awe to something softer and more personal.
So in my rewrite, I leaned into that.
Original:
[They are not as good as a finger of Su Min.]
That line is blunt and dismissive. I wanted to give it more depth by showing what Lin Yao really feels:
[No matter who stood before her, they always fell short of that one figure. That calm pressure, that quiet force that made her feel… small, yet safe. Humbled, yet seen.]
This lets the reader feel the emotional weight Su Min carries in Lin Yao's heart. She is not just comparing strength anymore. She is responding to Su Min's presence, the way she can make Lin Yao feel grounded and steady, insignificant in a reassuring way rather than a diminishing way.
The contrast between Su Min and everyone else is not just about strength. It is about intimacy, presence, and trust.
In the original, Su Min rescues Lin Yao, and Lin Yao is grateful but a little confused. I wanted to slow that moment, make it human, stretch the seconds between life and death.
[Then, the world stopped. Literally.]
I built the atmosphere around Lin Yao's fear. Her knees buckle before her mind catches up. She is standing at the edge of death for the first time. Su Min pulls her back, calm, detached, laptop still in hand.
[Her knees buckled slightly, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
It was the first time Lin Yao had truly stood at the edge of death. And Su Min had pulled her back, like it was nothing.]
These lines anchor the emotional beat. Lin Yao feels first, understands later. She is overwhelmed not just by fear, but by the meaning of Su Min being there.
Then I let a touch of humor break the tension.
["Clear this place out first," Su Min said calmly, glancing at her screen. "This dumb system wants facial recognition."]
The humor does not undercut the moment. It reflects how Su Min sees the world. Rescuing someone is not dramatic to her, it is necessary, practical, and routine.
That, in turn, confuses Lin Yao.
[Was this... extortion?
Her gratitude cracked at the edges.]
I wanted her to feel a little betrayed. She is not sure if she matters to Su Min. She does not know if the rescue was personal, or just a cold calculation. That doubt is part of the raw emotion.
Then I step back and explain it for the reader.
[This wasn't arrogance. It wasn't even aloofness. It was the kind of detachment that came from standing alone for too long.]
This is what I love about Su Min. Her coldness is a survival mechanism. Her detachment is earned. And for the first time, Lin Yao starts to understand it. That understanding does not lessen her feelings. It makes them more complex.
[Somehow, that realization didn't distance her. It only pulled her in more.]
That is the key. Lin Yao's feelings are not just admiration anymore. They are yearning wrapped in understanding. She is drawn to Su Min not despite her solitude, but because of it.
Chapter 263: Relentless Pursuit at All Costs
In the original chapter, Su Min talks about her past, but it's quick and almost clinical. I wanted to give the scene more weight, not by adding plot points, but by letting the emotional impact land. For Su Min, telling her story isn't a cathartic act. It's a gesture of trust. For Lin Yao, listening isn't just curiosity. It becomes connection.
["Has it already been a thousand years?"]
In the original, this line is a joke. I reframed it as a quiet moment of self-awareness. Su Min is timeless in Lin Yao's eyes, but here she lets the façade slip just enough to hint at weariness.
The original version had Su Min recounting her family's destruction almost bluntly:
["I was born into a wealthy family, but when I was a teenager, there were some problems at home, and the dog emperor exterminated my entire clan."
"!!!"
There was nothing to hide, and many people knew. Especially after the heaven and earth were connected, almost everyone in her sect knew.
But for Lin Yao, this is a bombshell. "Senior, are you kidding me? That emperor killed your whole family, but you didn't kill them all and wipe out his family?"
"That's not the case. Even that dog emperor didn't die in my hands strictly speaking."Su Min smiled helplessly. She would never tell her true origins. The experience of this body didn't matter. It happened years ago. All witnesses were dead except Xie Yingying.
"Um?" Lin Yao thought of countless movies and novels. Scenes from palaces flashed in her mind. Could this person be a queen again?
"That's roughly what happened."
Su Min didn't hide anything about her early life. Lin Yao gradually became dazed. Compared to Su Min, she seemed lucky. Her family was still alive and well.
Su Min rarely spoke, but now she was talking non-stop. Many elderly people liked to do this, and though Su Min wasn't old, it seemed fun for her.]
I slowed this down in my version. Su Min doesn't start with grandeur. She begins simply:
["I was born into a noble clan," she said softly. "We were wealthy. Respected. I had a mother who adored me, an elder brother who always shielded me. At that time, I thought my life was set."She paused and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, almost out of habit.
"Then… something went wrong. The emperor accused us of treason. I was barely fourteen."]
This isn't just reciting facts. It gives readers time to feel the arc: from safety, to betrayal, to survival. I let her recount again for clarity and weight:
["It went something like this..." She leaned back slightly, gaze distant.
"I was born in Yu City. My family served the court. My father was a respected official. We weren't at the very top, but we were close to the wrong people. When a certain prince's rebellion failed, anyone connected to him paid the price. Us included." She spoke calmly, as if recounting an old fable, but her eyes betrayed the tone.
"My family lasted weeks under the executioner's blade. I was spared only because of my father's final plea. But back then, 'mercy' was worse than death."]
I let these lines sit. No dramatics. Just Su Min showing the cost of survival.
["A young noble girl, stripped of her clan's protection… that's not a survivor. That's a product."]
This line implies trauma without exploiting it. It names vulnerability without making her a victim. Lin Yao doesn't push for details. That silence is earned, both for the story and emotionally.
Su Min speaks in broad strokes. She never names names or lingers on specifics. Mystery remains, but the emotion hits.
["I drifted for years afterward, a ghost with a sword too dull for vengeance."]
I let this become almost poetic. Not to romanticize suffering, but to show how long she carried her pain. Then paired with:
["So I learned to disappear, let the world forget me until I was strong enough to make it remember."]
This frames her journey as patience and inevitability. There is no fury. Only gravity.
I also added small "legend fragments" like crossing rivers, fighting desert monsters, trading in healing. These aren't just feats. They show how much she lived and how many lives she touched while staying invisible.
["A healer, a refiner, an alchemist. Survival teaches you versatility."]
This reframes Su Min not as a power chaser, but as a survivor. Her cultivation came from necessity.
In the original, Lin Yao's reaction was shock, with a throwaway joke about Su Min being old. I expanded it. She listens, she processes, she changes.
[Even now, with all her training, she couldn't picture surviving such a thing.]
Later:
[Compared to Su Min, her life seemed blissful.]
This is the first moment Lin Yao sees Su Min as human, not untouchable. That shift allows affection to bloom.
Even more telling:
[She could only gape at the surreal string of events casually laid out before her. As if any one of them wasn't enough to make a legend.]
Admiration becomes awe, and awe becomes something deeper. She doesn't fall for Su Min because of her power. She falls for her resilience, her quiet survival, her bitter grace.
["It took fifty years, but I've repaid every debt."]
This line hits hard. Not triumphant. Final. Like an old soldier laying down a sword. Su Min asks for no sympathy, doesn't glance at Lin Yao. But readers feel it anyway because Lin Yao feels it too. She now understands what Su Min has endured, and it draws her closer. Not out of pity, but recognition.
Chapter 269: Su Min Abandons Thought
In the original chapter, this part works as a simple transition: Su Min sends a message, reassures Lin Yao, and then reappears for a quick farewell. It's clean, efficient, but emotionally flat.
I wanted to give it more weight, because this chapter isn't just a handoff. It's a separation. Not just in space, but in meaning.
["Master... is unharmed."]
The original uses this line to confirm Su Min is safe and moves on. But for Lin Yao, it's more than an update. It's a release. A breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
Her feelings weren't just loyalty or concern. They were quieter, deeper. So I slowed the moment. I let her feel relief, awe, and even a touch of vulnerability. In the original, she just trembled.
I expanded that reaction. Her body shivers, her breath catches, the wall steadies her. It may seem small, but it shows how tightly she'd been holding herself together. She isn't afraid Su Min might lose. She's afraid Su Min might not return at all.
[Even so, she had feared. She had kept that fear locked tight behind her ribs.]
Here, the original flat tone becomes intimate and tense. Lin Yao usually pretends to stay calm, but when this message arrives, the façade cracks. Her love isn't spoken, it's in the trembling, the catching of breath, the relief.
[That same presence wrapped around her like a quiet embrace.]
I took something once resented—Su Min's restrictions—and turned it into comfort. This mirrors Lin Yao's growth: from resistance to reverence, from admiration to attachment.
["Wow, !"]
I rewrote this so the awe feels real. The original just says everyone is stunned. I wanted you to feel it.
[She wasn't just powerful, she looked like someone from another world entirely.]
I slowed the pacing, let the stillness and tension settle, and showed Lin Yao's admiration as personal and intimate. This isn't just about cultivation aura. It's about emotional weight.
[Even now, even after everything, she wasn't immune to it.]
That one sentence carries so much. Lin Yao has seen Su Min through chaos, battles, recovery. Even so, her presence still makes Lin Yao's heart skip. The master-disciple bond has long evolved. Here, the undercurrent of love becomes visible, even if unspoken.
["Master, are you leaving now?"
...
"Then you have to walk the road ahead by yourself. It won't do you any good if I keep protecting you."]
I rewrote it as:
["Master... you're leaving already?"
...
"You walk your own path now. My continued protection would only hinder you. Whether we meet again depends on your choices. Farewell."]
I gave Lin Yao a moment to remember what it felt like to look up at someone and realize they might never belong to your world. I pictured her not as a confident Golden Core cultivator, but as a girl who once followed Su Min's shadow, quietly growing in her light.
By expanding Su Min's aura and Lin Yao's reaction, I wanted to show the gap between them—not just in cultivation, but in emotional distance. Lin Yao feels deeply. Su Min moves forward. That contrast hurts. Lin Yao doesn't say it aloud, but her parting line speaks volumes:
["Master... I will find you."]
She doesn't ask Su Min to stay. She doesn't beg. She quietly promises, one Su Min may never even hear. That's the emotion I wanted here: unspoken love, steady resolve, and the ache of watching someone leave before you're ready to let go. (;ω;)
Chapter 270: I, Su Min, Have Returned!!!
In this chapter, I wanted to dig into Xie Yingying's emotions. The original gave her position and surface thoughts, but very little of what she was feeling inside. I focused on that silence, on what she couldn't say out loud.
Original:
["I don't know how she is now."
At this time, Xie Yingying looked at a small porcelain bottle in front of her with a slight headache. This was Su Min's blood that Tian Hao brought back..
It's just that Xie Yingying is more concerned about Su Min at this time, but cultivation is like this. For the opportunity and higher levels, Tian Hao's road was paved by the deceased Mahayana cultivator.
She is almost the same. After accepting Jiang Xi's inheritance in the cemetery, her future is smooth sailing...
Therefore, Su Min would not have any physical inheritance outside, and her path would definitely be more difficult than hers. Now she has gone to an unknown plane, and no one knows how she is doing now.
...
Of course, if Su Min was here, there wouldn't be any big problems. A seventh-grade high-level alchemist could mobilize the entire continent's enlightenment period with just one sentence. Anyone who dared to cause trouble would be an enemy of the world.]
What I changed:
["I wonder how she's doing now."
...Xie Yingying rubbed her temples, her fingers tightening slightly around the vial.
Su Min was irreplaceable, not just in strength, but in presence.
And now she had left this world behind, venturing into a foreign realm. No allies. No safety net. Who knew what dangers lurked there?
Xie Yingying closed her eyes. It wasn't just worry, it was helplessness. She had long grown used to Su Min's presence, her quiet confidence, the subtle way she stood between others and danger, the way her voice anchored things without ever needing to raise it.
Without her, everything felt off-kilter. But even now, she couldn't bring herself to chase after her.
Because Su Min had asked her to stay.
And so she waited.
With a vial of blood in her palm and a heart that, after a hundred years, still beat faster at the mention of her name.]
I wanted the emotion to come first. The original explained Su Min's challenges logically—no inheritance, no resources—but it didn't show how Xie Yingying felt. I reframed it through worry, memory, and helplessness. Her fingers tightening around the vial, her silent breath, her remembering how Su Min had always anchored the chaos—these details all say, "I miss you," without her saying it.
I also cut the exposition about cultivation progress and replaced it with comparison. Yingying inherited Jiang Xi's legacy, Tian Hao had Mahayana support. But Su Min? She had only her own body and will. That contrast made her absence hit harder.
Original:
["Your sect is too overbearing... we want two of the six continents" ...
"Ms. Xie, although your Taiyin body is powerful"
... he also had another thought. That was to form a marriage alliance with Xie Yingying...
"Not even an inch..."
... he was a little apprehensive. Finally, there was the real master of the Immortal Sect, the legendary Five Elements Saint Body ...
They didn't dare to use force ....]
What I changed:
["Lady Xie, have you reconsidered?"
...He smiled with ethereal charm...
But she felt none of the warmth his smile tried to feign.
...She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
...She was not a vessel. Not a resource. And certainly not for him.]
Here, I gave Xie Yingying her conviction, not just in words, but in how she views the world around her. The original framed this negotiation mostly as power comparisons, but to me it was also about ownership—not of land, but of herself.
Young Master Yao wasn't just after territory. He wanted Xie Yingying's body, bloodline, and future, hidden under a polite label of "marriage alliance." I made that threat personal, sharp, never dramatic. Every smile, every polite gesture, she saw through.
Her refusal isn't just "no." It's a declaration: not him, not any man, not the sect. Her loyalty was quiet, unwavering, spoken through her actions.
This isn't pride. It's love. Faith in the person who once stood beside her, who asked her to stay, and entrusted her with this land. She hadn't just protected it. She'd earned the right.
Original:
[As for the reason why Xie Yingying was happy...
Su Min's blood essence began to tremble...
She had already noticed that Su Min was sensing her blood essence...
because for Su Min, this was her beacon.]
What I changed:
[Inside the quiet hall...
The blood essence inside trembled.
Her fingers curled around it, careful yet reverent.
For years, this vial had remained active, quietly awaiting resonance. A sliver of Su Min's essence...
And now it pulsed with life.
...Not that she missed her, of course.
It wasn't that her nights had felt colder...
"It won't be long now."]
This moment is more than a plot trigger. It's a heartbeat, a sign. I slowed it down, stretched the silence, let Xie Yingying feel it first. The careful way she holds the vial is like a sacred ritual.
I added a layer of denial—"not that she missed her"—because longing doesn't always speak plainly. Her actions show it anyway. She's never stopped thinking about Su Min. Now, that tiny trembling of blood is all the proof she needs.
Honestly, Xie Yingying has a bit of a Wednesday Addams vibe here. She expresses longing without saying it. All the little signs scream "I miss her" in the most cryptic ways.
Think:
—Her eyes drifting to where she should be, even when the room's empty.
—How she leaving Enid's nail polish on her desk.
—The way she deflects, saying "Thing misses you" when we all know she's the one who does.
It's all there, the same repressed longing, the same refusal to admit vulnerability. Xie Yingying has that same energy in here, her pride won't let her say it, but her actions? Devastatingly obvious.
Chapter 271: A Century's Worth of Leeks to Harvest
This chapter marks Su Min's long-awaited return, but the original treated it casually, almost like an afterthought. I felt it deserved more weight, not flashy spectacle, but emotional gravity. What does it feel like to come home after wandering the void for a century? And what does it feel like for someone who has waited that long in silence?
So I rebuilt the chapter with presence in mind, not just Su Min's, but Xie Yingying's too.
Original:
[At this moment, an extremely powerful aura gushed out from the sky. It then instantly passed through the sect protection formation and landed in front of them.
Dressed in white, like a fairy, it was Su Min.
"Huh, I'm finally back. I'll never try interstellar travel again, this kind of life is really not a human life."
But the next moment, the woman's words destroyed that special aura completely. It was Su Min who was cursing here.
"."
The scene was a little silent for a moment, and Xie Yingying couldn't help but cover her head. If she remembered correctly, Su Min should be a lady from a wealthy family.
But he didn't look so noble at all, but rather a bit of a gangster. She remembered that he had scolded people several times and even the cultivators in the Spiritualization Stage were not spared. This was what Tianhao told him at the beginning. It was really speechless that he would attack the lower three roads at any time.
"You are back. Something's happened."
Su Min suddenly collapsed and Xie Yingying explained she was just tired.
After hearing what Xie Yingying said, Tian Yinzi also smiled. Then Xie Yingying picked up Su Min and put her in her room.
This is how Su Min's return was, so quiet and low-key.]
What I changed:
[The sky split with a thunderous crack, shaking the clouds apart. A blinding light tore through the sect's protective formation without resistance, passing through like a blade slipping cleanly through silk.
And then, she appeared.
A single figure descended from the sky, robes flowing like waterlight, silver embroidery catching the sun with quiet brilliance.
Su Min had returned. Wearing immaculate white robes etched with intricate patterns, her presence felt otherworldly.
Tian Yinzi bowed and departed.
Xie Yingying carefully gathered Su Min into her arms, holding her close as she stood. She was lighter than expected, thinner perhaps. It stirred a frown she didn't let anyone see.
She carried her through the winding corridors without a word, steps soundless, steady. The quarters had been cleaned just the day before, as she had insisted, though no one had dared ask why.
Inside, the bed was already made, silks faintly scented with osmanthus and the herbs Su Min preferred. Xie Yingying laid her down slowly, almost reluctantly, adjusting the pillow beneath her neck with practiced care. She covered her with a single light quilt, fingers brushing the edge like she meant to tuck her in but thought better of it.
Then she sat beside her, saying nothing. She reached out, took Su Min's hand in her own, and held it loosely between her palms. Just for a moment.
Just until the trembling in her chest calmed.
After all, she was finally here.
And for the first time in a hundred years, Xie Yingying allowed herself to rest too.]
I wanted to show the contrast between Su Min's awe-inspiring entrance and her very human exhaustion. The original version played it for comedy, which works, but I wanted the grandeur first so the humor hits harder.
Su Min's descent reflects how others see her, mythical, unshakable, beyond reach. Then with one line of profanity, she undercuts it all herself. That contrast is not just funny, it is authentically her, someone who defies labels and shrugs off reverence even when she has earned it.
More importantly, I gave space to Xie Yingying's perspective. Her embarrassment, silent affection, alarm when Su Min collapses, none of that was in the original. I added it so readers could feel what Su Min means to her, not just in words but in her actions.
The way she brushes her hair back. The way she tucks her in. The way she holds her hand until her own breathing calms.
In the original, Su Min falls and gets put in a room. In my version, she comes home. And that matters.
Original:
[As for Su Min's sleep, a week had passed. When she woke up again, she felt refreshed.
"Hey, you're awake. Did you get the final divine item? Let me see what the complete Five Elements Holy Body looks like."
But just as Su Min woke up, she heard a voice.
"Of course I miss you so much."
At this moment, Su Min rushed over without hesitation, directly into Xie Yingying's arms, and then rubbed her face against her body.
"What stimulated you?"
After seeing Su Min's expression, Xie Yingying was also shocked, but at least she didn't slap her away.
"well"
After hearing what Xie Yingying said, Su Min also breathed a sigh of relief. Although she had been in seclusion for a long time, she had been in seclusion for hundreds of years. But during the retreat, she was always in a trance. But this time, she spent several decades in seclusion and didn't see a single living thing. Although she wouldn't go crazy given her personality, she felt very close to Xie Yingying after seeing her.
"It looks like he's been through a lot."
After seeing Su Min's expression, Xie Yingying also said with great heartache.]
What I changed:
[A week later, Su Min awoke, refreshed.
"Oh, you're up. Did you get the last heavenly treasure? Show me what a perfected Five Elements Holy Body looks like."
Xie Yingying's voice greeted her the moment she opened her eyes.
"Of course! I missed you so much, !"
Su Min lunged forward, burying her face in Xie Yingying's chest and nuzzling like an over-affectionate cat.
"Did the void scramble your brain?"
Xie Yingying stiffened but resisted the urge to punt her across the room.
Su Min joked, but her grip lingered.
Though she had lived for centuries, with many years in the silent stillness of cultivation, this journey had been something else entirely. The void was sterile, empty, endless. There were no stars, no wind, no heartbeat but her own. Just darkness and time stretching until she lost all sense of it.
She hadn't spoken a word for years. She hadn't needed to, there was no one to hear.
But now,
Xie Yingying's voice had been the first sound to pierce that silence. Familiar, unchanging. It felt like a thread tossed across an endless abyss, and Su Min clung to it like a lifeline.
"I mean," she added, glancing up with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes, "you could at least act moved. I braved the void for you."
Xie Yingying looked at her, expression unreadable, somewhere between exasperation, concern, and something quieter beneath. She said nothing at first.
But her hand lifted. Hesitated.
Then settled gently on Su Min's back.
She didn't speak, but the gesture said enough. "I'm here. You made it back."
Su Min didn't push. She couldn't. If she did, the humor would crack and everything she kept buried might spill out. So she leaned against her a second longer, quietly soaking in the warmth, the rhythm of a steady breath, the grounding weight of someone else.
She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it.
How much she'd missed her.
Finally, Xie Yingying spoke quietly, as if afraid that saying too much would unravel them both.
"You've been through a lot."
She had watched Su Min laugh, tease, act like her usual unbothered self, but she wasn't fooled. Not when her grip had trembled for a moment. Not when she lingered in her arms a heartbeat too long. Not when her eyes, though smiling, held a kind of weariness no sleep could fix.
There was no dramatic outburst, no grand declaration. Just those quiet words, offered with rare tenderness and understanding.]
Su Min deflects with humor, mentions the Mahayana Fallen. Xie Yingying's concern breaks through.
The scene closes on them, quiet, careful, but warm.
The original dialogue moved the plot: Su Min is alive, recovered, here's what she fought. I wanted it to be more than that. This was the first conversation between two people who waited a hundred years for each other. It needed emotional stakes.
I rewrote it as a reunion not just of bodies, but of souls.
Su Min's catlike affection hides deeper longing. Her teasing masks the ache of loneliness. The void wasn't just empty, it was emotionally sterile. I leaned into that to show even someone as strong-willed as Su Min could come back shaken, not broken.
Xie Yingying doesn't call it out directly. She just feels it. Her soft observation, "You've been through a lot," cuts deeper than any dramatic outburst. That's how she shows care: subtle, restrained, utterly sincere.
Su Min wants to keep things light. But she can't fully fake it. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. Her fingers cling a second too long.
It's grief, affection, and relief all in one.
The fight with the Mahayana Fallen becomes just background. What matters is that for the first time in decades, Su Min isn't alone anymore. And neither is Xie Yingying.
(╥﹏╥)
Chapter 272: Lust Overriding Judgment
The original version focused on Su Min showing up at the sect and a tense moment with the Yao Clan, ending with an awkward romantic advance that broke the mood. The humor was clear, but it skipped over the emotional and political layers in the scene. I shifted the focus a bit, not removing the comedy, but grounding it in character, subtext, and unspoken bonds.
Original:
[Hearing those people, Su Min sneered, then turned around and walked out. In the blink of an eye, he arrived at the main hall of the sect. Then he sat down on the main seat without hesitation, crossed his legs and waited.
As for Xie Yingying, she stood behind her very tacitly. Although Su Min was a bit stupid, she was still quite careful and had hardly made any major mistakes. Of course, except for the things that were ridiculous and harmless caused by her stupidity, everyone was used to it anyway.]
What I changed:
[Without waiting for a reply, she turned and strode out. The air shifted the moment her feet touched the main hall's marble floor. In a single breath, she vanished, then reappeared atop the sect's main dais, sleeves drifting like mist as she sat, one leg crossed over the other in effortless authority.
She didn't ask for permission.
She didn't need to.
The seat of honor had always been hers.
Xie Yingying followed a beat later, moving behind her with quiet precision. She said nothing, but her presence at Su Min's back was as natural as the moon trailing the sun, steady, unwavering, absolute.
The arrangement hadn't been rehearsed. It didn't need to be. Su Min didn't glance back, but her body relaxed slightly at Xie Yingying's presence, a silent acknowledgment of trust.
Su Min exhaled slowly, almost amused.
She might get lost in her alchemy or go weeks without sleep, but Xie Yingying never doubted her when it counted. And for all her little missteps and the chaotic stories people whispered, Su Min was methodical beneath the surface, especially when someone threatened what was hers. The occasional lapses in judgment that led to amusing but harmless incidents didn't count, everyone was used to those by now.
And Xie Yingying?
She never let anyone forget who Su Min belonged to.]
This scene shows more than Su Min asserting dominance. It highlights the natural partnership between Su Min and Xie Yingying. I wanted their wordless understanding to feel like the culmination of deep, practiced trust. The original joked about Su Min's "stupidity," but I reframed it. Yes, she can be eccentric, but when it counts, she is precise, decisive, and terrifyingly competent. Xie Yingying doesn't just follow; she guards. Her presence is vigilant, like a shadow ready to strike.
Original:
["It's coming."
Just as Su Min was daydreaming, Xie Yingying at the side said with great disgust.
"Um?"
Hearing this, Su Min looked at Xie Yingying behind her with a bit of confusion. Since the two sides had not torn their faces apart, why did she have such an expression?
But seeing that Xie Yingying didn't say anything, Su Min didn't bother to ask.
At the same time, on the other side, when the three people entered the hall, they were all stunned at the same time.
Because Xie Yingying, who they were very familiar with in the past, was standing next to the main seat, and right in front of them was a woman wearing a moon-white battle skirt. She looked young, only about seventeen or eighteen years old.
At this moment, the young woman was sitting on the main seat with her legs crossed lazily, looking a little unkempt. However, at this moment, only a few words emerged in the minds of the three people: "Domineering."
However, as a seventh-grade high-level alchemist, Su Min is indeed qualified to look down on them.]
What I changed:
["They're here," Xie Yingying murmured, voice low and laced with disdain.
Su Min turned slightly, blinking in mild confusion. "Hm?"
Her eyes drifted toward her partner. Xie Yingying hadn't drawn her sword, hadn't even spoken more than that single line, but her posture told a different story. Arms folded tightly across her chest. One foot tapping soundlessly behind Su Min's chair. Not nervous, furious.
This wasn't just annoyance. It was loathing. Quiet, simmering, barely held back.
They hadn't even confronted the Yao Clan yet. On paper, this was meant to be a negotiation, a formality. Why did it feel like Yingying was already bracing to draw blood?
But she said nothing more, and Su Min knew better than to press.
And that was enough for Su Min to understand.
Whoever they are… they've already earned her sword.
The three visitors froze the moment they stepped into the grand hall.
Xie Yingying, once known to them as a quiet, almost forgettable figure, now stood beside the seat of honor with icy calm. And in the main seat, draped in a moon-white battle skirt, lounged a young woman who appeared no older than seventeen or eighteen. She reclined with casual ease, posture almost careless, one leg crossed over the other as if this meeting were an afterthought.
Yet the words that surfaced in the minds of all three were the same:
Majestic. Overbearing.
Su Min didn't need theatrics to assert dominance. She wore it like a second skin. And as a high-level grade-seven alchemist, she had every right to look down on them.]
I wanted the tension to feel deeper than surprise or light confusion. This was about history. Xie Yingying's body remembered the Yao Clan before her sword even moved. Su Min notices and says nothing. That silence is key. It shows her awareness of Yingying's limits, moods, and signals.
When the Yao members enter, the visual is clear: Su Min at ease, commanding; Xie Yingying controlled but simmering. Outsiders see them as a unit they can't touch.
Original:
["Gulu, um, miss, can we have dinner together?"
"."
In an instant, the whole scene fell completely silent. Even the Golden Crow at the side looked at the young man with a strange look.
As for Xie Yingying, the cross on her forehead was throbbing wildly, and her hand subconsciously reached for her ring, ready to take out a sword and cut him into pieces at any time.
Only Su Min looked at this guy with extremely surprised eyes. She was not shy or anything. This kind of courtship was not the first time she encountered it, but in this situation and with this kind of cultivation, lust was on his mind?
Then, in an instant, Su Min looked at him with a curious look.]
What I changed:
["Gulp... Uh, Miss... Would you like to have dinner together?"
"..."
The hall plunged into utter silence. Even the Golden Crow gave the young man a bizarre look, as if wondering whether he had just suffered a qi deviation to the brain.
And this little brat had the gall to ask Su Min out, to her face, with Xie Yingying standing right there?
Madness. Absolute madness.]
Then come Xie Yingying and Su Min's reactions:
[The cross on Xie Yingying's forehead pulsed once. Then again. Like a seal reacting to provocation, like a silent gong echoing in a frozen battlefield. Her hand inched toward her spatial ring, fingers curling with deliberate calm. Not because she was startled. Not even angry, not exactly.
But some fool had just looked her in the eye and dared to say that, in front of her. If she drew her sword now, it wouldn't be to kill. No, that would be too kind. What she envisioned was precise dismantlement. First, the mouth that had spoken. Then the eyes that dared to look at Su Min like she was some prize to be plucked off a shelf. A walking temptation to be won.
That man, that boy, had once asked to marry her. Now he was ogling Su Min? Her Su Min?
Right. In front. Of. Her.
Behind her composed expression, the wind shifted. Killing intent bloomed cold and silent, like frost curling across a blade's edge. It wasn't a flare of rage. It was the hush before the blizzard. The poised breath before a sword fell.
Only Su Min stared at him in utter bewilderment. It wasn't that she was flustered, she'd been propositioned before. But for someone at this cultivation level to let lust override judgment in such a setting?
For a brief moment, Su Min's gaze turned pitying, as if observing a rare specimen.]
The original was funny, but it ignored how suicidal the young man's words were. I kept the humor but pushed it into absurdity laced with danger. His request insults both Su Min and Xie Yingying, who fought, bled, and lived decades beside her.
I added the Golden Crow's view as a subtle touch. Even it thinks the moment is stupid beyond belief.
Xie Yingying is the heart of this rewrite. She doesn't draw her sword, but the threat is heavier because of that. She's cold, controlled, and restrained.
Su Min doesn't entertain it. She just marvels at the idiocy.
By showing their reactions more fully, readers feel the weight of the intrusion. Through that, Su Min and Xie Yingying's bond becomes obvious. Everyone sees them as a couple, even if it's unspoken.
Chapter 290: Another Great Emperor's Legacy
The original chapter showed Lin Yao deciding to leave her home planet to continue cultivating. It showed her strength, independence, and how others worried about losing their strongest guardian, but it didn't show what that really meant to her. We knew she had no family, no master, and no roots left, but we didn't see the emotional impact.
Original:
[She never married and had no offspring. As for her family and friends, they all disappeared in the long river of time... all she pursued was immortality.]
In the rewrite:
[Now, after centuries of disaster, Lin Yao had no reason to stay. With this crisis resolved, her only pursuit was immortality.]
I didn't stop at stating facts. I gave space to what these losses did to her, how they hollowed her and left only one unbroken thread: Su Min. Her longing is subtle, but it drives her. She doesn't leave just because she has to cultivate. She leaves because this planet, now safe, has become a quiet grave of everything except memory.
Original:
[She said she'd return someday, then entered the crack.]
In the rewrite:
[Even as she said it, the words tasted like smoke, distant, half-true. Her throat tightened.
No final embrace. No lingering words. Just Su Min's back as she vanished into the sky.]
I turned the farewell into a wound that never heals. Lin Yao was once too proud to speak, too young to understand the ache, but now she does. This section reframes her arc as not just about cultivation and protection, but about quiet, unfulfilled love. A love buried under years of duty and silence, but never gone.
I also rewrote her goodbye to the planet itself. She touches the artifact, whispers her assurances, and lingers for a last moment. She isn't abandoning it. She is entrusting it, like a guardian laying down a mantle she has worn too long.
Original:
[She stepped in and left.]
Rewrite:
[Without another word, she stepped into the rift.
Not for glory. Not for duty.
But to chase the shadow of someone she could never forget.]
I ended on a note of silent confession. She doesn't say Su Min's name, but it is clear. Her motivation is not just enlightenment. It is Su Min. The one who changed everything. The one she loved without ever saying so. The one she still dreams of.
Chapter 291: Disciples Exist to Be Exploited
The original chapter was light and fast. Elder Zhu throws a problem at Xie Yingying. Lin Yao crashes into Su Min. Su Min starts plotting to "exploit" her returning disciple. The comedy is clear, but the emotional side of these moments was barely touched.
In my version, I leaned in on more than just the humor. I wanted the undercurrents that make this scene memorable. Relationships, both public and private.
The original just said:
[The relationship between these two people was known to the entire Xianmen high-level officials, but no one talked about it.]
I wanted to show what that silence actually looked like, how it shaped behavior, perception, and atmosphere. Their bond had become part of the Immortal Sect's gravity. No titles, no announcements. Just patterns, habits, and undeniable presence. Every elder noticed it, but no one dared speak.
This gave Xie Yingying weight. She wasn't just Su Min's partner. She was someone whose presence was recognized and respected without needing a declaration.
It also made Elder Zhu's panic funnier. He wasn't just rushing to a cultivator for help. He was throwing a ticking situation at Su Min's wife.
The original next scene:
[But when Su Min returned to the sect, she was a little confused, because at this moment a figure rushed towards her excitedly.
"Master!!!"
In an instant, Su Min felt a warm and soft jade in his arms, and then he was rolled out by the man's huge force. After all, Su Min weighed only a little over 100 pounds, and he was not on guard because he could sense the other person's identity. He still needed to abide by some physical laws.
And the moment she saw that figure, Su Min had a very bad plan.
Apprentices are meant to be cheated.]
It's funny, yes, but it's emotionally thin.
I reframed it as a crash of longing and momentum. Lin Yao wasn't just "running over her master." She acted on years of buried longing, exhaustion, and the desperate joy of finally finding the one person who mattered most.
[But when Su Min returned to her sect, she was stunned, because at that moment, a figure came rushing toward her excitedly.
"Master!!!"
Su Min blinked, half a second too slow.
A soft, fragrant warmth slammed into her, slender arms wrapping around her waist as they tumbled backward. The momentum stole her balance. She hadn't braced herself. Su Min barely weighed a hundred pounds, and recognizing the qi signature in that split second, she hadn't raised her defenses either. Physics still applied.
Moreover, the moment she saw that figure, a brilliant idea struck her.
"Disciples exist to be exploited."
They landed in a heap on the polished stone floor. Su Min lay flat on her back, Lin Yao sprawled over her like an overenthusiastic spirit beast, all radiant cheeks and fluttering lashes.
"...Yao'er?"
She hadn't used that name in decades. It slipped out unguarded.
For a moment, Lin Yao couldn't speak. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart threatening to burst from the sudden closeness. The warmth of Su Min's body beneath her felt real, too real. For years, she had chased that silhouette across star charts and ancient battlefields. And now, finally, her journey had brought her here.
To this moment.
She had grown stronger. She had endured endless cold nights in broken ruins and starlit realms. She had walked the path of cultivation with one unshakable desire, to reach her master again.
And now, she had.]
I let her feelings hit only after she tackled Su Min because it felt real. Joy often breaks the dam before we even realize how full we were. Her voice catches, her breath stutters, and Su Min, who hasn't said her name in decades, calls her "Yao'er" without thinking. It's a callback to their closeness and a glimpse of the tenderness Su Min rarely shows.
Lin Yao's silence says more than words could. She's breathless not from the fall, but from everything she's carried until now. All those years of loneliness, of chasing a memory, crash into her in this moment of physical closeness. I let her feel it after she's already thrown herself forward because joy doesn't always arrive politely. Sometimes it hits like thunder, only after the lightning has already struck.
Beneath her, Su Min is real. Solid. Warm. For someone who has chased a shadow for centuries, that confirmation is overwhelming.
Chapter 292: Fooling Around
The original chapter leaned on casual teasing and straight exposition. Lin Yao crashes into Su Min, gets lectured, receives her next mission, and Xie Yingying looms briefly with frosty possessiveness. The tone was light, almost comedic, and it worked on the surface.
But a lot was left unsaid, and that silence is where the emotion lives.
In the original:
[But before Lin Yao could say anything, a dangerous aura emerged from behind her. At some point, Xie Yingying had appeared behind her like a ghost. The cold aura with the energy of the yin made Lin Yao tremble even with the protection of the ghost fire of the netherworld.
"Congratulations on coming back."
Seeing that Lin Yao was a little ungrateful, Xie Yingying also unnoticedly took her out of Su Min's arms. The latter was also trembling, not daring to say anything.
"Not yet, and there's no sign of it."
Since Xie Yingying was here, Lin Yao didn't dare to be naughty anymore. Instead, she said in great distress that the path to enlightenment was not so easy.
"Is that so?"
Glancing at Xie Yingying who was half-closed her eyes, Su Min felt similarly uneasy as Lin Yao did. So at this moment, she immediately changed the subject and started talking about business.]
I didn't want to rush Lin Yao into her next cultivation goal. Her journey to reunite with Su Min isn't just physical. It's emotional, and that deserves weight.
[She moved like moonlight, distant but never cold… lost too much, and still chose to care.]
Lin Yao admires Su Min not just as a powerful master, but as someone who quietly protected her without asking for anything. Her love is unspoken, untested, and utterly one-sided, but in her eyes, Su Min is still warmth worth chasing.
This isn't the kind of love that demands anything. It's the kind that simply wants to be near.
That made Xie Yingying's entrance all the more cutting.
In the original, she just pulls Lin Yao off and intimidates her. In my rewrite, her actions aren't loud. They're precise.
["Mm…" she started to reply, but before the words left her lips, something shifted.
A sudden stillness. The courtyard air thinned.
Then came the cold.
Not the chill of wind or winter, but something deeper, bone-deep and silent. Like the hush before snowfall, or a predator stepping into view.
Without a sound, Xie Yingying appeared.
She didn't walk. She materialized. Pale robes trailing, her Taiyin aura spreading outward like cold mist from an open crypt. It slipped through the seals Lin Yao instinctively raised, brushing her skin like a blade made of silence.
Even with her Netherworld Ghost Flame coiled defensively in her dantian, Lin Yao flinched. Not visibly, but inwardly, like prey under a dragon's shadow.
"Welcome back," Xie Yingying said.
Her tone was polite. Her actions were not.
With graceful ease, she reached forward and peeled Lin Yao away from Su Min's embrace. Her fingers were soft, but unyielding. She didn't shove. She corrected. Like straightening a painting that had tilted slightly off the wall. The message was clear.
"This position does not belong to you."]
Xie Yingying's possessiveness isn't about anger. It's about precision, about sending a message. She doesn't know that Lin Yao has feelings for Su Min. She sees her as clingy and immature, not dangerous, just irritating. That makes her territorial response almost instinctual. She doesn't understand why Lin Yao's presence bothers her, only that it does.
Lin Yao's fear in the original is barely hinted at. In my rewrite, it's fully immersive. It's coiled tight in every movement and weighted silence. I layered her confusion too. Why is Xie Yingying treating her like this?
[Lin Yao offered no resistance. She couldn't. Not after months of brutal training under Xie Yingying's personal supervision, where a light sparring session could still leave her sore a week later. Not when the weight of that unblinking gaze pinned her in place like a needle through a butterfly's wing.
"Not yet," Lin Yao said stiffly, avoiding Xie Yingying's eyes. "No signs of progress either."
It was true. The path to Dao Comprehension remained distant, no matter how many pills she swallowed or inheritances she chased.
Her usual cheer dimmed. Not because of Su Min's presence, but because Xie Yingying was always there, watchful, wordless, cold as frost. She didn't understand what she had done wrong. She wasn't trying to compete. She didn't demand anything. All she wanted was to remain near her Master, just a little longer.
But whenever Lady Xie looked at her, it was as though she were being weighed and found wanting. Like she was clutter, something that didn't belong.
She didn't hate her for it. She just didn't know how long she could survive it.]
Su Min is brilliant and absurdly powerful, but emotionally she's not always tuned in. She senses Xie Yingying's mood shift, but she doesn't know why. She doesn't catch Lin Yao's lingering attachment either.
["Is that so..."
Su Min, watching the exchange, raised a brow. She glanced sideways at Xie Yingying, whose half-lidded gaze gave nothing away, but Su Min sensed the shift beneath the surface. That faint prickling on the back of her neck wasn't just residual killing intent. It was something else. Something territorial.
And though Su Min didn't understand the shape of it, she recognized the edges. Not that she'd acknowledge it aloud. She cleared her throat and smoothly redirected the topic to business,...]
This isn't just obliviousness. It's detachment. Su Min lives in logic and action, not emotional nuance. She defuses tension without addressing its roots.
But the unresolved tension remains, humming beneath every word.
["If that's the case, you should go and prepare first. In the ancient battlefield, people in the enlightenment stage can't enter at all. There are many people in there who want to find the inheritance just like you, but you have a special physique like me, so the probability of getting the inheritance is higher." Xie Yingying said lightly, and then looked at Lin Yao with a hint of special eyes.
"Yes, then I'll go get ready." After hearing what Xie Yingying said, Lin Yao nodded. Then she turned around and ran away very tactfully, leaving only Su Min and Xie Yingying in the room.
But for a moment, the whole scene was a little quiet.
"Is there something urgent that makes you look so serious?" Looking at Xie Yingying in front of her, Su Min also asked with a smile.
Based on her understanding of her, there must be something big going on.
"Yes, the Black Seal Organization you mentioned. ...]
The original ended with a brief remark from Lin Yao, then Su Min noticed her seriousness. I expanded it so Xie Yingying's presence presses on the scene. Her silence is more cutting than words, her gaze sharp enough to make Lin Yao retreat tactfully.
[Xie Yingying spoke next, her tone cool but measured. "Then go prepare. The ancient battlefield forbids Dao Comprehension cultivators. For someone like you still at Divine Transformation, it's a rare opportunity. And with a unique constitution like yours, your chances of gaining something are decent."
Her gaze lingered on Lin Yao a second too long, not hostile, but sharp, assessing. And dismissive.
"Understood. I'll go get ready." Lin Yao nodded quickly and turned away, leaving without another word. She was gone in moments. No parting glance, no clumsy attempt at lingering. Just silence and her fading footsteps. She'd sensed the intent behind Xie Yingying's words and knew better than to ignore it.]
This shows possessiveness without naming it. Xie Yingying doesn't argue or confront. She doesn't need to. Lin Yao, even unaware of the true bond between Su Min and Xie Yingying, feels the pressure and responds. Xie Yingying doesn't fight for Su Min's attention. She simply occupies it.
[As the door closed, a thin quiet settled over the room.
Xie Yingying didn't speak, but Su Min could feel the pressure in the air shift slightly. It wasn't threatening, but it carried weight.
Intent.
"You chased her off pretty neatly," Su Min remarked with a slight smile, glancing at her sidelong. "You know I wasn't going to let her cling to me all day, right?"
Xie Yingying said nothing.
Su Min leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. "So, judging by that look on your face, this isn't about Lin Yao, at least not directly. What is it?"
Her tone was casual, but the sharpness in her eyes said she wasn't taking this lightly. She knew Xie Yingying well enough to recognize that look: calm on the surface, but taut underneath. Whatever she wanted to talk about wasn't trivial.
Xie Yingying finally met her gaze.
"Correct. That Black Seal organization you mentioned, ...]
Su Min reads the mood perfectly. When Xie Yingying says nothing, Su Min calls it out, not to accuse, but to acknowledge the tension. She doesn't deny her closeness to Lin Yao, nor downplay her commitment to Xie Yingying. Instead, she balances both sides with affectionate teasing, keeping the scale even.
Chapter 293: The Ruffled Golden Crow
This chapter originally acted as a transition: Su Min equips Lin Yao, gives her a new task, and Lin Yao leaves. It was simple and efficient, with a few hints of character interaction. But the emotional dynamics between the three women—Su Min, Lin Yao, and Xie Yingying—were left untouched.
Here's the beginning from the original:
["I have already refined new magic weapons and equipment for you. You must be careful when you go to the ancient battlefield this time. In addition to those corpses, you must also be careful of people. But since you have walked out of it, I don't need to say anything more."
Looking at Lin Yao who was sitting upright in front of her, and Xie Yingying who was half-closed her eyes behind her, Su Min could only scratch his head and speak.]
In the rewrite, I treated this chapter as a stage for subtle confrontation. Not physical or verbal, but emotional, territorial, and deeply personal.
The room with all three characters becomes a crucible. Lin Yao still sees Su Min as her gentle master, and her feelings are unspoken but strong. Xie Yingying stands just behind Su Min, silent, unreadable, watching, and Lin Yao feels every second of it.
[Lin Yao sat perfectly straight, both hands resting on her knees, back tense. She dared not move. Su Min's presence used to bring her comfort, warm, familiar, almost indulgent. Once, they had even bathed together, Su Min laughing lightly as she poured scented oil over Lin Yao's shoulders, calling her a spoiled fox. At the time, Lin Yao had been too stunned to speak, her cheeks burning. But she had basked in that closeness, treasured it, replayed it in her mind far too many times afterward.
Now, everything felt different.
Su Min was still the same, smiling faintly, eyes slightly narrowed, her hair tied up in the usual lazy bun, but the air between them had changed.
Or perhaps it was the eyes behind her.
Half-lidded and unreadable, Xie Yingying stood silently at Su Min's side like a shadow made of moonlight. Her presence filled the room, weightless yet suffocating. Lin Yao didn't need to turn around to feel it. That quiet gaze pressed against her back like the edge of a blade. Not threatening, not yet, but ever-present.
Seeing Lin Yao sitting rigidly straight and Xie Yingying's half-lidded gaze behind her, Su Min could only scratch her head awkwardly.]
The line:
[Her presence filled the room, weightless yet suffocating.]
captures it perfectly. It lets the reader feel Xie Yingying's territorial aura without her raising her voice or moving. She doesn't have to do anything. Just being there is enough to shift the balance.
The original version:
["Yes, Master."
After hearing Su Min's words, Lin Yao straightened her back. Then she looked at Xie Yingying with a little fear. In the past, Su Min had been quite affectionate to her, and the two had even taken a bath together. Now, she dared not say anything.]
I rewrote it as:
["Yes, Master."
Lin Yao's voice was soft, clipped. She straightened her back even more, though her shoulders were already stiff. She snuck a glance toward Xie Yingying and immediately looked away. She didn't dare speak freely anymore. Not like before. Not when she felt as though any trace of closeness would be measured, catalogued, and silently judged.]
Lin Yao never confesses her feelings, but we feel them anyway. Her silence, her stiffness, the way she tries to recapture old banter with Su Min only to have it vanish under Xie Yingying's gaze—all of it makes her love evident. Her voice becomes clipped, her smile flickers only briefly before dying out. She's trying to hold on to something that might never return.
[She didn't dare speak freely anymore. Not like before.]
That sentence, quiet as it is, cuts deep. Lin Yao mourns not just lost closeness but lost possibility.
Next, the original scene:
["That's right. I need a few puppets that can restrain the pill thunder. When I first refined the eighth-grade pill, it almost struck me to death."
Su Min showed a look of indifference when she said this. She didn't want to find a bunch of people to help her protect her every time she made an elixir. Although she would not be so embarrassed when she made that elixir again, she was still quite scared of that situation.
"Pfft, leave it to me."
After seeing Su Min turned into an emoticon, Lin Yao finally couldn't hold it anymore and burst out laughing.
"Then all I can say is good luck!!!"
Seeing this, Su Min threw a ring to Lin Yao, which contained things she had prepared. …]
I rewrote it as:
[Su Min gave her a lazy side-eye. "Obviously. I need something to absorb tribulation lightning. When I refined my first eighth-grade pill, the heavenly tribulation nearly crisped me."
Her expression turned flat, lips drawn into a deadpan pout. The memory clearly still stung.
Su Min refused to gather crowds for protection every time she refined pills. Though now she could handle that pill without such embarrassment, the memory still haunted her.
"Pfft, leave it to me then," she said, a little more brightly. "I'll bring you the best-looking corpses I can find!"
Su Min rolled her eyes. "I'm making puppets, not dolls."
"Well, your puppets do look suspiciously lifelike…"
"That's the entire point. Realistic texture is essential."
Lin Yao smiled now, a spark of their old rhythm flickering back to life. It bubbled up before she could stop it, startled and unguarded. For a moment, the tension in her chest eased.
Su Min smiled, but briefly. "Then I can only wish you luck."
With a flick of her fingers, she tossed Lin Yao a jade ring brimming with carefully selected items—artifacts, formation tools, qi anchors, all tailored to Lin Yao's strengths. The success of her crafting now depended on Lin Yao. Su Min's fingers lingered a beat too long in the air, tempted to say more. But she didn't.]
Su Min remains calm, kind, practical. She jokes with Lin Yao and equips her without question. But now there's a sense she's walking through a minefield without realizing it. She doesn't understand Lin Yao's feelings, nor fully grasp Xie Yingying's possessiveness. She sees tension but not its depth.
The second half of the chapter shifts fully to Xie Yingying. Originally, this section just gave her wariness in plain terms. I expanded it into nuanced possessive longing mixed with internal conflict.
[Watching Lin Yao's vanishing light streak, Xie Yingying exhaled quietly. It wasn't dramatic, but it was unmistakably a sigh of relief.
This continent was still steeped in old customs, masters as second fathers, disciples as dutiful children. Most cultivators bowed and scraped before their elders, their speech always formal, their respect always rigid.
But Su Min?
Su Min didn't know how to play the part.
She never acted like a master. Never pulled rank. Once someone got close to her, titles and hierarchy meant nothing. Whether sect leader or servant, she treated them the same, with dry remarks, mild gestures, and complete disregard for decorum.
To Xie Yingying, it was reckless. Dangerous.
Especially when it came to that girl.
She hadn't said anything at first. Hadn't even admitted it to herself. But the longer she watched Su Min interact with Lin Yao, the more unease coiled in her chest.
Too casual. Too unguarded.
A disciple shouldn't be able to touch her Master that easily. A disciple shouldn't look at her Master that way, and more importantly, a Master shouldn't let it slide.
It was absurd.
If Su Min truly saw Lin Yao as a disciple, she should have drawn a line. Should have taught her distance. Should have protected her. That was what Xie Yingying would've done.
And yet… Su Min just smiled and handed her pills, wrapped arms around her shoulders, ruffled her hair like some carefree parent. No. Not a parent. Something else.
And that was what made it unbearable. Xie Yingying didn't understand exactly what she was feeling. Not anger. Not quite jealousy. And certainly not fear.
But there was something sharp in her whenever Lin Yao was around. Something cold and unpleasant. Something that made her want to cut through every thread of connection Su Min might weave with others. She would never say it aloud. Would never accuse Su Min of anything. She didn't need to. She just needed to stay close, closer than anyone else.]
Xie Yingying doesn't just want to protect Su Min. She wants to belong to her. Seeing Su Min playing, laughing, or touching someone else, especially a beautiful talented girl like Lin Yao, is unacceptable. Not because she doesn't trust Su Min, but because she doesn't know how to share.
[She would never say it aloud. Would never accuse Su Min of anything. She didn't need to. She just needed to stay close, closer than anyone else.]
That sentence is the heart of Xie Yingying's character. She doesn't lash out or throw tantrums. She simply refuses to be displaced.
Chapter 306: Unity Stage
One of the key moments I really wanted to expand was the interaction between Lin Yao and Xie Yingying in this chapter.
In the original, their exchange is pretty brief. Xie Yingying appears suddenly after Lin Yao reaches the Unity Stage, and there is a little tension, but the emotional distance between them is not explored much. The scene is functional. Xie Yingying questions Lin Yao's technique, Lin Yao explains it, and it ends with a mild awkwardness or unresolved feeling. It moves the plot forward, sure, but I felt the emotional thread was too loose, especially given their shared connection to Su Min.
So I decided to reframe and deepen the scene, both in tone and in intention.
The original goes like this:
["Congratulations, you have entered the stage of enlightenment."
But just as Lin Yao finished sighing, a somewhat cold voice sounded behind her. This also made her shudder subconsciously, and this voice sounded like a ghost in her ears.
Although she still hasn't figured out why the second-in-command of the Immortal Sect dislikes her so much, and that aura...the fusion stage.
However, it was obvious that Xie Yingying, who had just entered the fusion stage, was in a good mood and had no interest in causing trouble for her. After all, she was also a divine beast to some extent, and she could enter the Mahayana stage almost unimpeded.
As for whether we can go further, no one knows.
"The aura on your body smells like the ancient Taiyin Sutra, the technique you are practicing."
Xie Yingying couldn't explain why she disliked Lin Yao at first, but now she didn't feel that way anymore, and then she discovered that Lin Yao had a special smell on her body.
That is the flavor of his own Taiyin Ancient Scripture, which also makes it a little strange.
"The technique I practiced was adapted by my teacher based on the Fire Separation Scripture, one of the Five Elements Scriptures, and the Taiyin Scripture."
"That guy is also a genius, how come you didn't find any problems with your training?"
Hearing this, Xie Yingying was a little surprised, and then she stopped talking. Instead, she looked into the depths of the continent, worried about something.
But at this moment, Lin Yao noticed a hint of surprise.
Because she found that Xie Yingying's sword was actually a Xuan-level sword, which was almost impossible for a strong person in the Fusion Stage. For people at this level, using a Xuan-level magic weapon is like the note in their hand, useful but not very useful.
"Your sword"
Seeing the weapon that Xie Yingying had been carrying, Lin Yao asked with a little surprise. This kind of thing was already of no use to her.
"."
However, Xie Yingying did not say anything at this time, but simply shook her head. This sword was given to her by Su Min when she was in the Golden Core Heaven Ranking, although the original purpose was to restrain herself to some extent.
But after seeing Xie Yingying's expression, Lin Yao was very sensible and shut her mouth. Although she had just entered the enlightenment stage, the one in front of her was in the fusion stage.
You know, even if Su Min has reached the late stage of enlightenment, he is not very confident of killing a real strong man in the fusion stage.
It was even more impossible for her, not to mention that the person in front of her also had a rare physique.]
I rewrote lines like
[Xie Yingying couldn't explain why she disliked Lin Yao at first...]
into something more layered and introspective:
[For the longest time, Xie Yingying had simply found Lin Yao... irritating. There had been no logical reason for it... And so, despite herself, she'd treated Lin Yao with quiet hostility.]
Instead of presenting Xie Yingying's feelings as random dislike, I interpreted it as subtle emotional possessiveness. In the story so far, her relationship with Su Min is slowly developing, grounded in resonance and trust. Lin Yao's closeness to Su Min, her admiration, acceptance of help, and casual warmth, could feel threatening to someone like Xie Yingying, who is emotionally repressed and intensely protective.
The original:
[This also made her shudder subconsciously, and this voice sounded like a ghost in her ears.
Although she still hasn't figured out why the second-in-command of the Immortal Sect dislikes her so much, and that aura...the fusion stage.]
I expanded on Lin Yao's sense of Xie Yingying's subtle hostility:
[And yet, what unsettled her more than the cultivation gap was the simple fact that Xie Yingying had never greeted her like this before.
Not once.
She hadn't imagined it, the chill in the woman's voice was real. For reasons she had never quite grasped, the sect's second-in-command seemed to carry a quiet dislike for her. Or perhaps "dislike" wasn't the right word. It felt more like suspicion. Possessiveness. As if she were something dangerous that needed to be watched, monitored, kept at arm's length.
Which made no sense. She had always respected Su Min. Looked up to her. Cared for her deeply.
Maybe too deeply.]
For the part about Xie Yingying's feelings changing:
[But now, for the first time, that sensation was gone. Instead, she detected something unusual. A faint ripple, echoing in Lin Yao's cultivation. Something that tugged at the foundation of her own Lunar Sovereign Scripture, like two strings vibrating in harmony across a great distance.]
I expanded it into why she no longer feels that old tension:
[She didn't know when it had changed, couldn't even say what had changed. But the old tension she always felt around Lin Yao, it wasn't there anymore.
Gone was the sharp tug in her chest whenever she saw the girl linger too close to Su Min. Gone was the cold instinct to step between them, to shield, to claim.
Something had shifted. Quietly. Subtly.
And though Xie Yingying didn't think it through, didn't try to name it, some part of her knew.
Lin Yao had already stepped back.
Somewhere along the line, the girl had learned to draw her own lines. She no longer looked at Su Min with hungry longing. No longer clung to her with that intimate closeness that had once made Xie Yingying want to tear her away by force.
Whether it was fear, or respect, or something else, Lin Yao had stopped reaching.
And because of that, Xie Yingying could finally breathe.]
Then there's the sword scene. The original describes it mainly as a power gap:
[But at this moment, Lin Yao noticed a hint of surprise.
Because she found that Xie Yingying's sword was actually a Mystic-level sword, which was almost impossible for a strong person in the Fusion Stage. For people at this level, using a Xuan-level magic weapon is like the note in their hand, useful but not very useful.
"Your sword"
Seeing the weapon that Xie Yingying had been carrying, Lin Yao asked with a little surprise. This kind of thing was already of no use to her.
"."
However, Xie Yingying did not say anything at this time, but simply shook her head.]
I layered it with Lin Yao's unspoken affection and emotional understanding:
["Lady Xie, that sword of yours..."
...
But Xie Yingying said nothing.
She just gave a faint shake of her head. Not dismissive, but private.
...
Lin Yao's breath caught. The answer wasn't in words, but she understood.
The sword was a gift. A keepsake. One that didn't need to be useful.
From her.
Lin Yao's hand slowly dropped to her side.
She was no fool.
Even if Su Min had once reached out to her, once walked beside her and handed her spirit pills and patted her head like a warm breeze in a cold world, that path was long gone. There was no room left beside Su Min now.
Not when she was standing there.
Not when the distance between them was guarded so fiercely by someone she couldn't possibly match.
She knew when to leave.
Even if her heart didn't quite want to.]
Lin Yao never says it aloud. Xie Yingying never hears it. But in that moment, she understands.
The sword, originally described as an odd Mystic-grade weapon, becomes an emotional anchor. I focused on meaning rather than function. The line:
[She just gave a faint shake of her head. Not dismissive, but private.]
shows that some things, even in cultivation, don't need justification. It's a small choice, but it adds weight to the story.
Finally, I adjusted how the power gap is felt. Instead of saying Lin Yao shuts up because she's afraid, I let it come from emotional understanding. She steps back because she sees her place clearly, not because she's intimidated.
In short, this scene became a subtle farewell between two characters who were never enemies, but never quite allies either. No confrontation. No confession. Just a soft resolution.