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INE Chapter 117: Supreme Detachment
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 15:45:24 +0000 UTCThree years later, at Wanjian Sect.
The sect’s internal examination had concluded, and many new disciples were admitted into the inner sect.
Bai Yi was one of them.
Though she came from humble beginnings, her aptitude was decent, and she was diligent and hardworking. Thanks to her own efforts, she finally earned a place in the inner sect.
However, when examiner Shen Mingyun saw her name, his expression became rather strange.
Puzzled, Bai Yi asked, “Elder Shen, is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing." Shen Mingyun replied. “It’s just… your name is very similar to that of a former disciple of Wanjian Sect.”
“Oh? Is that person also in the inner sect?”
A trace of awkwardness passed over Shen Mingyun’s face. “She was a disciple here… but she’s no longer among the living.”
After entering the inner sect, Bai Yi realized that things weren’t as lively as she had imagined. On the contrary, it felt somewhat deserted.
Aside from the perpetually stern-faced Elder Ye, the only other person she saw wandering about was Senior Brother Wei.
Bai Yi initially thought that Senior Brother Wei was quite talkative, but when he heard her name, he fell into a long silence, and said nothing more.
Later, she figured he must have found her name inappropriate, perhaps even taboo.
It wasn’t until she spoke with Senior Brother Ye Chuyang that she finally learned the truth.
After Ye Chuyang returned from a fortuitous encounter that rebuilt his spiritual foundation, he had become, despite his young age, the most advanced cultivator among the inner sect disciples.
Though Ye Chuyang was usually reserved, when he saw Bai Yi’s confusion, he decided to share some of the past with her.
“Junior Sister, you’ve been living in the mortal realm, so you might not know, many things have happened in the last three years. Three years ago, three highly influential figures in the cultivation world fell at the same time.”
Bai Yi had vaguely heard rumors that a Sword Saint had appeared back then, and that many people died.
But having grown up in a remote mountain village, she had no idea who those people actually were.
She couldn’t help but ask, “Senior Brother, who were they?”
Ye Chuyang hesitated a moment before replying, “Elder Gong Yu of Wanjian Sect, the Demon Lord Gu Baiyi, and Mei Lixue, Saintess of the Divine Sect.”
It took Bai Yi a long moment to understand that Elder Gong and the Demon Lord had both vanished in a beam of light.
As for Saintess Mei Lixue, she had been slain by the Left Protector of the Demon Sect, who arrived later.
After hearing Ye Chuyang’s account, Bai Yi asked one final question: “If all of them are dead, what about the Sword Saint?”
“She entered seclusion for three years. Today, she emerges.”
...
Between the twin peaks of Phoenix Peak stood a barrier.
This barrier, set by the Sword Saint herself, separated the two mountains and barred all others from entering.
At that moment, Mei He stood between the peaks, waiting for the barrier to disappear.
Since becoming sect leader of Wanjian Sect, Mei He had not touched alcohol for years.
She had planned to return the position to her master once Yue Qianqiu came back and live a carefree life.
But when her master finally did return, Mei He looked at that cold, emotionless face, and found herself unable to lift the wine jug again.
Lost in thought, she didn’t even notice when the barrier finally dissipated. A pair of white boots stepped out from within.
She snapped out of her daze and turned to see a robe of plain white gauze.
The robe was so white it looked like mourning attire. Its edges bore no embroidered vermilion plum blossoms, nor any adornments at all.
The woman’s brows and eyes were light and calm, and even the faint fragrance around her was piercingly cold, utterly devoid of warmth.
But what shocked Mei He the most was the long snow-white hair cascading over Ji Rong’s shoulders.
She was momentarily stunned, then blurted out, “Master, your hair…”
Ji Rong furrowed her brows, not immediately realizing what was wrong.
When she looked down and saw her white hair, her expression remained unchanged.
She had cultivated within the Mountains and Rivers Chessboard for three years. Time flows differently inside the board compared to the outside world.
Three years in the mortal realm had been over a hundred years inside. White hair was only natural.
But Mei He saw it differently.
She wanted to say something, to comfort Ji Rong. Yet when she looked at her master’s current appearance, she didn’t know what to say.
After Gu Baiyi died, Ji Rong had followed the system’s instructions and placed Gu Baiyi’s body into the Mountains and Rivers Chessboard.
She had believed the system would resurrect her. But when she entered the chessboard again, the body had vanished.
Heaven knew how badly she had wanted to destroy the system then and there.
Later, she recalled that the system’s missions had all been predicated on one condition: the heroine must survive.
The fact that she herself hadn’t vanished meant that Gu Baiyi wasn’t truly dead.
But Ji Rong still didn’t know where Gu Baiyi had gone.
Before going into seclusion, she had traveled as far south as the edge of the world, and as far north as its end.
She had roamed through all the mountains and rivers, yet still hadn’t found the one she sought.
After that, Ji Rong lost her fondness for the chessboard, and for this transmigrated world she now inhabited.
Returning to Wanjian Sect, she remembered the book The Hidden Records of Cultivation, which described the legend of forging the Sword of Scattered Petals to reverse time itself.
So she began reading again.
When she finished, only a few key terms remained in her mind: five hundred virgin boys and girls, the blood of a Heavenly Demon, and the body of Extreme Yin.
To be honest, she wasn’t sure whether any of it was true.
But she wanted to gather the five legendary swords and go back to the past, to a time when Gu Baiyi and Gong Yu were still alive.
Ji Rong entered the Valley of Ten Thousand Medicines and retrieved the Qingshuang Sword, which she had sealed in a forbidden land a hundred years ago.
Counting the Chi Xiao Sword and the Cangming Sword, she now had three. If she could defeat Feng He and obtain the Longyuan Sword, she would have the fourth.
Though she still had no idea where the fifth sword was, she chose to enter the chessboard and cultivate in seclusion anyway.
Day and night, facing black and white chess pieces, she practiced her swordsmanship with mechanical precision.
Sometimes, she would speak with Mo Yu. But more and more often, even moments of joy were slipping away.
It felt like something was being drained from within her.
Mo Yu grew worried. “Sister, the stronger your cultivation grows, the closer you get to the Returning to the Dust Realm. You’ll reach the state of Supreme Detachment, emotionless, beyond the mortal world.”
Ji Rong replied coolly, “But if I don’t become stronger, how can I save the ones I want to save?”
Yet now, as Ji Rong stepped out from seclusion, even she found herself surprised by her current state of mind.
She had already reached the middle stage of the Desperate Realm, something she could once only dream of.
And yet, she felt no joy at all.
Ji Rong stared at her head full of silver hair. She lifted a strand and examined it coolly.
A moment later, she simply let out a laugh.
The reason for her laughter was simple. If it were the old her, she would’ve thought having such dazzling white hair, something only obtainable through excessive in-game spending, was incredibly cool.
She wanted to feel happy, both for her breakthrough in cultivation and for her new hair color.
But the smile that surfaced wasn't genuine. It tugged at her lips awkwardly, more grimace than joy.
Ji Rong picked up the Qingshuang Sword. Her gaze passed through the falling snow, fixing on a distant, unreachable place.
Before she defeated Feng He, there were still some things she wanted to do.
…
In truth, Ji Rong’s goals were few and simple.
She returned to Wantangju.
Since Wu Yan had offered up his demon core to heal Gu Baiyi, he had been in deep sleep ever since.
For all his usual fawning and sycophancy, the fox had proven himself dependable when it truly mattered.
Unfortunately, goodwill didn’t always translate into power.
Ji Rong reached out, stroking Wu Yan’s smooth fur and channeling spiritual energy into his body.
With any luck, he would wake up soon.
After this, Ji Rong had intended to head straight for the Demon Sect. But as she passed by Tianji Peak, she happened to catch sight of Gu Baiyi’s residence, Kuaixue Pavilion.
She paused at the door, hesitating. After a brief moment of thought, she gently pushed it open.
She hadn’t expected anyone to be inside.
A girl dressed in tang-colored robes sat there, her black hair like flowing satin, cascading over her sleeves.
At that moment, she was resting a scroll across her lap, propping her chin in one hand, fully absorbed in reading.
Ji Rong had thought she was close to achieving the realm of "supreme detachment" in her cultivation.
But seeing that girl’s lowered lashes and serene expression caused her heart to falter for just a moment.
If it weren’t for the fact that the girl’s manner and aura were clearly different, Ji Rong might have mistaken her for Gu Baiyi.
The girl wore purple robes and had black hair loosely draped, very similar to Gu Baiyi.
But no matter how alike they were, she was not her.
Gu Baiyi would always place her book neatly on the table, never on her lap.
She would never leave her sword casually at the door but would place everything precisely where she believed it belonged.
Ji Rong smiled at the thought.
Then, she quietly closed the door and left without a sound.
Though Baiyi was deeply engrossed in her book, she felt a subtle shift in the air.
She looked up and caught a fleeting glimpse, silver hair like frost, silk robes brushing past the window frame, cold and delicate like a pear blossom in winter.
She hadn’t seen the woman’s face, but for some reason, Baiyi was certain the one who passed by had to be beautiful.
Ji Rong was unaware of Baiyi’s impression of her, by then, she had already arrived at Western Mountain.
The land there was still barren, desolate, devoid of any sign of life.
She hadn’t used teleportation but had walked a long way through the desert.
The yellow sand buried her shoes; the harsh wind sliced at her face like blades.
She did not shield herself with spiritual power, she could barely feel the dust and grit anymore.
Though she hadn’t practiced Zen, she now resembled an ascetic monk, detached from the five senses, the five skandhas fading one by one.
She didn’t know what she would become after this. But her expression remained unchanged, because she knew, no matter what, she would keep moving forward.
What lay ahead, she didn’t know.
But if she didn’t move forward, she would never find out.
Ji Rong walked for a long time before reaching the border of the Demon Sect.
Ahead of her stood a barrier.
A barrier she could now easily break through with her current strength.
Perhaps it was this very barrier, placed by Chu Changli on Western Mountain, that had prevented Feng He from avenging Mei Lixue’s death at Bai Yushuang’s hands.
Ji Rong reached out, ready to break it.
Yet the moment her hand touched it, this barrier, which had once stymied even the top-ranked cultivator on the Cultivation Ranking, dissolved beneath her palm like mist.
She paused in surprise, then let out a quiet laugh.
So whether it was Gu Baiyi or Chu Changli, whether her disciple or her junior sister, their souls, in the end, were always the same.
A hundred years ago, when Chu Changli had set this barrier, perhaps she too had fretted and furrowed her brow:
If I place a barrier here… what if Shifu comes looking for me one day? How will she get in?
A century later, Gu Baiyi had become the Demon Lord.
One day, she picked up a hair ribbon embroidered with plum blossoms. She burned it to ash… then with a flick of her fingers, restored it to its original form.
Gu Baiyi had long lost count of how many times she’d burned that ribbon.
She looked at the dark, empty Demon Palace and remembered the one who had once pushed her off a cliff.
She frowned, torn, part of her hoping her Senior Sister had her reasons, part of her wishing she hadn’t.
After much thought, she found a type of gu poison.
It was called “Doubtless.” If one consumed the mother gu, anyone who took the child gu would be bound to them in life and death, never able to part.
Gu Baiyi smiled, thinking of the most shameless, despicable method.
She could take the child gu herself, using her own life as a threat, gambling everything on one chance.
If she won, her Senior Sister would never leave her again. If she lost, all it would cost was her life.
And she wasn’t afraid.
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Note:
Next chapter will reveal where Baiyi went~
