Pure as Ice and Jade, Cold Soul True Qi

"I respected him so deeply. When he visited the Shen family, I eagerly sought his guidance on the Martial Dao. Yet that very night, he sneaked into my bedchamber... Mortified and wishing for death, I told my parents and begged them to invite highly respected seniors of the martial world to uphold justice. But the Shen family urged me instead: 'Now that your virtue is lost, why not just marry him?' "He even knelt and kowtowed before me—a great grandmaster, in all his stature... "One of the martial world's supreme figures, telling me he loved me so deeply that he had committed a terrible mistake. My parents, and several of you martial seniors..." Shen Wanjun pointed at Chan Master Kongming and Daoist Wanshi, her voice laced with bitter hatred. "...actually urged me to let the matter rest, claiming it was for the sake of my reputation! "All my life, I, Shen Wanjun, have been pure as ice and jade, unyielding to the bone! I would rather have no such reputation!" That furious cry rang out with resolute conviction. "Yet my parents pleaded with their lives, and he begged me in every way, even mutilating his own flesh..." Shen Wanjun said in a low voice. "I thought I could forget it all and start anew. After all, he could be said to truly love me. Merely because I said I wanted a flower that never withered through the four seasons and ice that would never melt for eternity, he went to the Western Regions to seize the wondrous flower Mandala Langalos, and journeyed to the Arctic Cold Plains, risking his life on Sky-Touching Divine Peak to chisel out the Ten-Thousand-Year Mysterious Ice Soul. "Unfortunately, I still could not forget. And so, I colluded with the Twelve Yuan Chen, discovered the flaws in his true qi, refined the Ten-Thousand-Year Mysterious Ice Soul into the divine weapon Ice Soul True Qi, slipped Mandala Langalos into his food and drink, and finally, beneath a breathtaking starry sky... I killed him with this ice needle. "He truly was worthy of being a great grandmaster. Even after I shot the needle formed from the Ice Soul True Qi into his brain, he still had the strength left to tell me, 'I'm sorry.' The Ice Soul True Qi was something he had moved heaven and earth to find for me, and all along, he knew I was poisoning him with that wondrous flower. Hahaha... In this life of mine, even my vengeance was indulged by another..." Shen Wanjun said calmly, "So for the rest of my life, vengeance was all that remained. A hollow vengeance against you hypocritical paragons of the righteous path..." Chan Master Kongming sighed deeply, filled with shame. "Heroine Shen, this old monk was wrong!" "If you intend to speak nonsense like taking my place or bearing the blame on my behalf, save your breath! My vengeance was for the pride of my entire life. I did nothing wrong... so please, grant me my end!" Shen Wanjun said calmly. "Lastly, though Little Brother Qian has probably already figured it out, I will still mention it: Eight Cripples... it was you who killed Kuaiyan and Kuaiyu, wasn't it!" Eight Cripples Beggar's expression turned vicious. "Bitch, even on the verge of death, you try to frame me!" "Because of your physical deformities and impotence, your mind is twisted, and you often torture innocent women to death. I discovered that Little Falling Moon Sword, Yue Qing, was killed by you all those years ago. I intended to rid the world of a disgusting creature like you long ago, but who would have thought you were threatened by Dragon Head and secretly threw your lot in with our Twelve Yuan Chen... Dragon Head said that after this grand affair, he would hand you over for me to deal with. But I cannot wait any longer... So, die!" In Shen Wanjun's hand appeared a slender, translucent needle, pure as ice and jade—condensed from the divine weapon Ice Soul True Qi. The divine weapon Ice Soul True Qi was of a peculiar nature. In Qian Chen's eyes, its quality was exceptional even in the Central Divine Continent; it was a qi-path divine weapon, essentially a stream of purest heaven-and-earth primordial qi. Such primordial qi was exceedingly refined and held many marvelous uses, but its nature was so extreme that cultivators could hardly harvest it. Later, someone devised a method of using one's own true qi to absorb such primordial qi and refine it into divine abilities and magic treasures. This extreme form of primordial qi could then be utilized by practitioners and was termed gang-sha qi. Shen Wanjun's Ice Soul True Qi was none other than the Ice Soul Cold Light Gang, one of the thirty-six heavenly gang of the Central Divine Continent. Such gang-sha qi was extraordinarily precious. Given the foundation of this world, it had to belong to the rarest echelon of natural treasures. Even in the Central Divine Continent, it was worth astronomical fortunes. With the assets Qian Chen possessed, the only item comparable to it was the White Bone Relic before its restrictions were broken down. Shen Wanjun walked slowly toward Eight Cripples Beggar. Along the way, everyone was cowed by her aura and dared not bar her path. Eight Cripples Beggar struck out in panic and fury. His Crippled Heaven True Qi damaged primordial qi and harbored the lethal power to maim limbs, extraordinarily insidious and delivered with ruthless viciousness. Yet the Ice Soul Divine Needle suddenly vanished from Shen Wanjun's hand. An indescribable gleam—light refracted through the ice needle—flashed like a rainbow, breathtakingly magnificent, just like the life of this extraordinary woman. A bloody hole had pierced through Eight Cripples' glabella straight into the brain, his face still frozen in extreme terror and despair. The Ice Soul Divine Needle that slew him turned intangible and returned to Shen Wanjun's hand. Perhaps out of loathing for the blood of such people, she had refined the myriad-aeon mysterious ice into a bizarre weapon that could continually reform. She had pinned her yearning for rebirth onto this needle—as if after being defiled, she could once again return to purity. "Heroine Shen..." Chan Master Kongming said. "I am willing to vouch for her with everything I have... Shen Wanjun bears no guilt whatsoever. Of all the thousands of wrongs, the blame lies entirely with this old monk. I beg all heroes here to let her go... As for the Tang Clan, this old monk will personally apologize and accept punishment." Shen Wanjun smiled. "No need." She turned to Qian Chen with a smile. "Little Brother, you're only fourteen, aren't you? Even though you deliberately act older, you cannot fool me." She smiled slyly, showing an expression other than coldness or hatred for the first time. Qian Chen silently sighed inwardly: *In her youth, Shen Wanjun must have been just such a bright, radiant person.* *She grew colder by the day, and the jianghu assumed it was the sorrow of losing her husband. Who could have known the unspeakable truth behind it?* Shen Wanjun smiled. "Though they do not say it aloud, they all think I was in the wrong. Only you seem a bit interesting..." "I did not say I think you did the right thing," Qian Chen said calmly. Shen Wanjun shook her head. "It's different. They think I shouldn't have resisted. You, however, think I shouldn't have joined the Twelve Yuan Chen." "You were already free," Qian Chen said. "Why return to the filth?" "As long as the world does not share your view, how could I ever speak of freedom?" Shen Wanjun smiled self-deprecatingly. "A fourteen-year-old great grandmaster—I truly wish to see it for myself. Exchanging insights on the Martial Dao with such an exceptional talent, dying in an all-out battle—that is the proper resting place for martial artists like us. Come... fight me!" Qian Chen borrowed a sword from Kang Qiandeng. Holding the Startled Swan Sword, he went with Shen Wanjun into the main courtyard. That single Ice Soul Divine Needle shot forth softly, captivating as flowing light beneath the moon... Qian Chen walked slowly past Shen Wanjun. Between her brows remained a tiny sword mark, like a cinnabar mole on a beauty, whose peerless smile shone under the moonlight. Qian Chen held the Ice Soul Divine Needle, only to discover that the ice needle did not dissipate. Instead, it condensed into a single speck of pure Ice Soul Cold Light Gang. Though merely a tiny speck, the cold within the gang qi was virtually inexhaustible. Just like that, Shen Wanjun left a peerless divine weapon to the only person present whom she did not detest. Qian Chen twirled the needle in silence. Shen Wanjun seemed to be telling Qian Chen with this needle: never submit. Not even in death! The Medicine-Pounding Lord of the Twelve Yuan Chen was dead, yet none of the heroes present showed the slightest joy. Chan Master Kongming looked even more sorrowful than if he himself had died, lingering in the courtyard to chant scriptures ceaselessly for Shen Wanjun. Qian Chen picked up the heads of the three Yuan Chen—Brawling, Ghost-Devouring, and Flying Yellow—and looked at the Dawn-Crowing Lord. "Why keep him around? If you don't kill him now, are you waiting to treat him to breakfast?" With that, without even glancing at the Dawn-Crowing Lord's face desperately suppressing terror, he struck off his head and walked away... He found Hong Sihai and asked, "Hall Master Hong, where did Mister Yuhan pass away? I would like to pay my respects." Hong Sihai was silent for a long while before speaking: "Yuhan died in my sworn brother's mourning hall, and his body rests there now as well. They were the people closest to me. If you are to offer the heads of the Twelve Yuan Chen in tribute, I will go with you."