Xulian perched cross-legged atop the tallest ruined spire of Marlow that still looked stable; the city sprawled below her like a skeletal reminder of its former glory. Wind tugged at her robes and hair, but she barely noticed. Her dantian throbbed as Qi surged into her body, violent and insistent.
The system windows hovered at her side. The blue one now gleamed with a full checklist:
[Reach Level: 10 (Peque Stage) — Qi Condensation: ?]
[Cultivation Attribute: Spiritual Palace (Minor): ?]
[Slay 10 opponents at equal or higher level: 52/10]
[Skill in Meditation Method: Ninefold Verdant Lotus Circulation Sutra: ?]
[Additional calculations: Exceeded survival expectations, exceeded basic combat metrics, Body tempering achieved]
[Breakthrough requirement exceeded — bonus being calculated]
The red-and-black window glowed ominously:
[Connection to Heaven established. Initializing…]
Xulian’s lips curved into a small, sharp smile. Connection to Heaven, huh? Nothing ominous about that at all. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?
Before she could finish the thought, a bolt of lightning struck her directly. Pain exploded through her body, Qi surging violently, meridians threatening to rupture under the stress. Her teeth clenched, a hiss escaping her lips, and yet beneath the pain there was a strange, almost intoxicating thrill—a dark, reckless edge she could barely suppress after seeing that familiar red and black system panel.
Oh, perfect. Just what I needed: Heaven playing tag with my nervous system. How quaint.
The first strike refined her dantian and expanded her meridians. She tasted copper and ozone on her tongue, felt every meridian scream under the load, and still she grinned inwardly. Pain was familiar now, almost… enjoyable, a razor’s edge between destruction and refinement.
Another bolt. This one slammed into her shoulder, then tore across her torso. She barely flinched, circulating Qi with precision. Come on… is that all you’ve got? No, don’t stop. Keep going. I like the sparks.
Strike after strike followed. She didn’t know how many there would be—perhaps nine, perhaps ten, perhaps the whole storm. She wasn’t counting. She simply rode each one, feeling her Qi condense and refine, her body honed and sharpened like a blade, while she mockingly glared at the red and black system panel.
Pain screamed through her. Every strike pushed her closer to the brink where meridians could fracture and dantian collapse, but she let the chaos play across her senses with a thin, dangerous thrill. Ah, the classic cultivation trope: dangle on the knife’s edge of death. Bravo, universe. Truly original.
Her mind danced between survival, calculation, and a quiet, feral amusement. Lightning striking me directly, clouds boiling overhead, system windows blaring at me… and I’m supposed to panic? Nah. Let’s see what happens when I don’t.
Each new strike was sharper, more punishing. Pain jagged through her body, but with every bolt, her Qi refined further, her dantian condensed more tightly, and her meridians stretched into perfect channels. And all the while, the subtle thrill of chaos threaded through her thoughts—a dangerous, coldly exhilarated joy at walking so close to destruction, a familiar sensation she couldn’t place.
Oh yes, keep it coming. More lightning. More pain. Let’s see if Heaven can actually break me. I dare you.
Finally, the storm above paused. The electricity in her body hummed in perfect balance. Her dantian was condensed, shimmering like a bright pearl, her meridians fully expanded, greedily consuming Qi as it circulated her body, Qi refined to a resonance she had never felt before. She trembled, exhausted, sweat and blood mingling, every fibre of her body screaming relief, even her clothes were tattered—and yet a faint, feral grin tugged at her lips.
Well… that was a dramatic pain-in-the-ass. Not that I minded.
Slowly, the storm above her broke apart. The dark clouds scattered like smoke in the wind, and the sky returned to its pale, ruin-strewn sunlight. The crackle of electricity faded, leaving only the faint hum of residual Qi circulating through her body. Every muscle throbbed, every meridian sang, every nerve ending screamed relief—and something else.
Xulian exhaled, a long, shuddering breath, feeling the last tendrils of ambiant Qi retreat into the sky. The system windows blinked in silence now, their prompts frozen as if acknowledging the completion of the ordeal. Her body was stronger, refined, her dantian felt alive, her meridians expanded—but… she was still trembling.
And then it hit her.
She wasn’t… herself.
Not in the obvious “I just survived death” way, but in a deeper, subtler sense. Her thoughts—once precise, orderly, calculating—had frayed at the edges. Sharp, reckless humour lingered in the corners of her mind, gnawing at her focus. Her internal voice had taken on a dangerous playfulness, mocking the very systems, the very tropes, the very pain she had endured.
What the hell… why am I… thinking like this?
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Her hands flexed on her knees, staring down at them as though they might answer. She could feel the residual Qi humming, alive and impatient in her body, but beneath that, a shadow of thrill, of recklessness, of… something dangerously close to joy in chaos.
It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t even triumph. It was something else entirely. Something that made her wonder if the tribulation had tested more than just her body.
Xulian blinked, focusing on the ruined city below. She was alive. She was stronger. And yet… she didn’t quite recognise the tone of her own thoughts.
Well. Fabulous.
She reluctantly pushed the thoughts aside. More pressing matters demanded attention. The red-and-black system panel that had been hovering beside her blinked violently—and then, in a blinding flash, shifted. Gold. Pure, radiant gold.
[Connection to Heaven completed: New Title: Daughter of Heaven]
Xulian froze, staring at the panel as though it might bite. She wanted to scream. Internally, she did scream.
Am I some fucking heroin in a trash novel?! Of course. Daughter of Heaven. Really, universe? Really?!
Her mind raced, cycling through all the cultivation novels she’d read, all the tropes she’d expected. So now I get a golden title, glowing system panel, heavenly acknowledgement, and—what—ten more lightning strikes for good measure? Fantastic. Just fantastic. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
The lingering madness from the tribulation barely settled. She wanted to lash out and shred this annoying system panel to pieces. It took her a while to calm down before she realised, the world felt sharper somehow, brighter, she could sense the ambient Qi more vividly.
She blinked, shaking her head. Okay, stay calm. Don’t scream in public. Don’t let Cilian see you lose your mind over a cliche. Focus. We don’t want him more clingy than he already is…
But inside, a small, reckless part of her laughed. Yes, Daughter of Heaven. I’ll take that. Why not? Makes me sound important and doomed all at once. Perfect.
She turned her gaze to the other system panel—the blue one—and nearly blinked twice at the sheer audacity of the numbers.
[Calculation completed: Level 10 → Level 18 (Late Stage) — Foundation Establishment]
Her lips quirked. Level 10 to 18? Just like that? And “Foundation Establishment”? Seriously? Someone get me a fanfare. Or at least a drumroll. Maybe a narrator to announce my fabulous transformation.
A flush of absurdity ran through her mind. This is exactly why cultivation novels are impossible to read seriously. Lightning storms, system prompts, instant title upgrades… and now I’m supposed to act impressed? Well, universe, congratulations. I am impressed. In a sarcastic sort of way.
Xulian tapped at the floating system panel beside her and summoned her full status display.
[Status]
Name: Ling Xulian
Race: Human
Level: 18 (Late Stage) — Foundation Establishment
Main Class: Cultivator
Sub Class: Swordsman
Title: Immortal Sword Cultivator, Daughter of Heaven
Health: 60 / 1000
Stamina: 200 / 1000
Spiritual Energy: 6553600 / 13107200
Attributes:
Body: 21 + 83
Dexterity: 19 + 18
Comprehension: 20 + 20
Luck: ???
Cultivation Attributes:
Spirit Roots: Heavenly Wood Root, Heavenly Water Root
Spiritual Palace (minor)
Body Tempered 10/100 (new)
Skills:
Void Flower Steps (Unique)
Nine-Lotus Sword Art (Unique)
Minor Spiritual Energy Sense (Rare)
Minor Identify (Common)
Palace of the Mind (Rare)
1000 Rivers Palm Technique (Unique)
Ninefold Verdant Lotus Circulation Sutra (Unique)
Sword Sense (Rare) (new)
Skill Pending
Skill Pending
She stared—then stared harder—then grabbed her own face.
WHAT THE—?! Six million… no, SIX POINT FIVE MILLION spiritual energy?! And a MAX of THIRTEEN MILLION?! How?! My spiritual energy was fifty-one thousand two hundred before! How am I supposed to keep track of numbers that jump like deranged rabbits on crack?! WHY IS THIS EVEN ALLOWED?!
Her eye twitched. The system politely didn’t answer.
She scrolled further—and froze again.
Body Tempered… 10/100?
Her astonishment flickered into bafflement.
“…When did I even—”
Then it hit her.
The injuries.
The shattered bones.
The internal bleeding.
The tribulation lightning slammed into her like heaven-sent sledgehammers.
“Oh. Oh gods. I body-tempered by being a moron and then by being electrocuted.”
A hollow laugh escaped before she could stop it. “That’s—sure. Normal. Perfectly normal.”
She forced herself to continue checking.
Her gaze landed on [Sword Sense (Rare)].
Her face went red.
“Oh no. Oh no. Not because of that.”
She slapped both hands over her cheeks.
Cilian’s sword.
Her grabbing it.
Her… reaction.
She physically shook her head to punt the memory into the void.
“Nope. Not thinking about that. Ever again. Deleted. Gone.”
Then her eyes slid to the last oddity on the panel:
Luck: ???
She squinted.
“…Excuse me?”
She poked at the number. Nothing changed.
Luck unknown.
Just question marks.
Right after earning the title:
[Daughter of Heaven]
She felt a shiver—not of fear, but of creeping dread and logic clicking into place.
“…Oh no. Did that title overwrite my luck? Is this some cosmic RNG joke? Am I a walking critical success and critical failure generator now?”
She groaned and rubbed her temples.
“Ah great. Wonderful. I’m either blessed, cursed, or both. Exactly what every sane person wants after being struck by divine lightning nine times.”
A beat.
“…I am still sane. Right?”
A quieter voice inside her said nothing.
But it smiled.
Xulian exhaled slowly, shaking her head. Alright. New levels, new title, new chaos in my head. Time to see if I can walk away from this without turning into a cliche myself.
A rush of footsteps echoed from nearby.
Cilian burst into view, Vel right behind him. Both skidded to a halt at the sight of her. Cilian’s eyes widened, he flushed aggressively red—and immediately spun around so fast he nearly fell.
“W-why are you— I— Xulian just— just WAIT—!”
Xulian blinked. “What? What’s wrong with—”
She looked down.
Her clothes were gone.
Barely threads.
Charred strips clinging out of pure stubborn will.
Exactly like the first day in this damn dungeon.
She froze.
Then her face lit with murderous rage.
“CILIAN! YOU—YOU FUCKING PERVERT!”
She grabbed the nearest brick-sized chunk of scorched stone and hurled it at his head. He yelped, dodged, tripped, apologised in at least three different tones—
“I DIDN’T LOOK— I MEAN I DIDN’T MEAN TO LOOK— I MEAN I’M SORRY PLEASE CALM DOWN—”
Vel collapsed onto the ground, laughing so hard she rolled.
And Cilian fled for his life, still sputtering apologies as Xulian hurled another rock.
