She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 61

Ji Qinghong remarked casually, "My face is the admission ticket."

The name was so succinct and direct that it perfectly conveyed Yan Luoyue's design philosophy.

For a moment, even the sound of Niu Qidao crunching on a turtle shell beside them paused briefly.

Then, Ji Qinghong turned a gentle, benevolent gaze toward Niu Qidao, smiling kindly.

Niu Qidao immediately straightened up and resumed: "Crunch, crunch, crunch..."

As a Golden Core cultivator, his teeth and stomach were anything but ordinary.

Though fine cracks had already begun to spread across his front teeth, the twenty-pound turtle shell was nearly devoured, with only a corner remaining.

Ji Qinghong made a calming gesture toward Yan Luoyue, signaling her to be patient.

Patting Niu Qidao’s back like a kind and reliable elder, he handed him a new turtle shell—this one weighing at least forty pounds.

"Here, no need to rush. There’s more where that came from."

Ji Qinghong smiled at the younger man, his ruby-like crimson pupils glowing softly with a warm, sanguine light.

"I told you, being here is just like returning to your hometown. Your sect elders and I go way back—I’d never let you go hungry."

Niu Qidao: "..."

He gulped audibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing unnaturally as a strange polygonal bulge protruded from his throat.

With great difficulty and against his will, he forced out a smile. "This junior… thanks… the Demon Venerable for his kindness."

"No need to be so formal. I dislike excessive politeness—it makes us seem like strangers."

Ji Qinghong gave a light reminder and casually patted Niu Qidao’s back again.

His touch was feather-light, like a maiden carefully unfolding her finest brocade.

Yet, despite the gentleness, Niu Qidao shuddered violently with each pat, as if struck by lightning. Cold sweat poured down his forehead like a waterfall.

After watching this spectacle for a while, Ji Qinghong seemed to find it amusing but lacking in aesthetic appeal. He sighed regretfully and turned to Yan Luoyue.

In a patient, guiding tone, he asked, "What did you want to show me?"

Yan Luoyue glanced toward Niu Shujian. "His magic robe doesn’t seem finished yet..."

Ji Qinghong chuckled. "That’s no problem. He’ll be done very soon."

As if on cue, a loud bang echoed through the room—Niu Shujian had knocked over his refining furnace.

Refining furnaces, with their tripod bases and heavy, rounded bodies, typically weighed dozens of pounds at the very least.

For him to overturn it by accident spoke volumes about his current state of panic.

The furnace rolled once on the ground before its door hit a mechanism and popped open, spilling out the half-refined magic robe and materials inside.

Niu Shujian hurriedly apologized, "Demon Venerable, I didn’t mean to—"

Ji Qinghong nodded approvingly. "See? He’s finished."

Niu Shujian: "..."

He looked down at the incomplete robe—still unshaped, unquenched, and most glaringly, missing both pant legs—and nearly choked on his own breath.

Under such pressure, he dared neither to admit it wasn’t done nor to wear the robe and let Yan Luoyue break his legs.

Trembling pitifully, he cast a desperate look toward his older brother.

Only to find Niu Qidao hunched over, gnawing on the forty-pound turtle shell with single-minded determination.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

If not for the widening cracks in his front teeth, the muffled crispness of the sound might have been mistaken for someone munching on rice crackers.

Niu Shujian: "..."

Realizing his brother was already beyond saving, Niu Shujian turned back with a look of tragic resolve and draped the half-finished robe over himself.

Noticing how his legs shook, Yan Luoyue kindly tried to distract him.

"Are you ready? Should I explain the design concept behind this artifact?"

Niu Shujian, clinging to any delay, immediately brightened with a glimmer of hope.

Yan Luoyue explained in detail: "The inspiration for Kill You 1.0 came from an aerial incident. At the time, my companions and I were joyfully piloting Demon Venerable Ji’s little flying saucer when suddenly, a massive flying ship from Hongtong Palace turned sharply and rammed straight into us..."

Niu Shujian: "..."

She added helpfully, "The ship’s owner was a young man with a sharp face, slightly dark skin, an older brother, and an elderly attendant. To protect his privacy, I won’t name him."

Niu Shujian: "..."

Screw your second uncle—just announce my disciple number already!

Too naive—for a fleeting moment, Niu Shujian genuinely believed Yan Luoyue was buying him time in front of the Great Demon King.

Wrong! This was clearly a roundabout way of tattling, rubbing salt in his wounds right to his face!

It must be said that before Yan Luoyue activated the artifact and physically annihilated Niu Shujian, his spirit had already teetered on the brink under the crushing weight of psychological pressure.

By the time Yan Luoyue triggered the artifact, Niu Shujian was still standing there dumbfounded, even forgetting to summon his basic defensive techniques.

In an instant, a deafening BOOM shook the room.

Propelled by spirit stone energy, the flying vessel-like artifact shot forward in a graceful arc, striking Niu Shujian with pinpoint accuracy.

Yan Luoyue mentally narrated the scene: —Battalion Commander, where’s your damn Italian cannon?! Fire! Fire! FIRE!

The young master, who no longer dared to tilt his chin up and look down his nose at others, didn’t even have time to grunt before the sheer force of impact sent him flying backward.

With two thunderous CRASHES, Niu Shujian blasted through two walls, leaving human-shaped holes in each.

Then, he embedded himself firmly into the third wall—so thoroughly that prying him loose would be a challenge.

Ji Qinghong didn’t need to step closer to inspect. A mere sweep of his divine sense was enough to confirm Niu Shujian’s current state.

Tucking a stray lock of white hair behind his ear, the man’s crimson eyes gleamed with lingering amusement:

"Just knocked unconscious... It seems this ‘Annihilator 1.0’ still has room for improvement."

Yan Luoyue bowed slightly. "You’re absolutely right."

Ji ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍Qinghong’s lips curved into a cordial smile. "Still, you did break both his legs. As agreed, I should award you the fifth-rank badge."

The examiner, who’d been playing dead as if it were his lifelong calling, was suddenly remembered by Ji Qinghong again.

"Where’s the badge?"

"Fifth-rank badges are... all stored in the Water Feather Chamber... You..."

Ji Qinghong thanked him with a smile.

Just before leaving, he paused as if struck by a thought.

He turned to Niu Qidao and advised, "Good lad, I won’t keep you long. Finish this meal, then take your brother and go home."

Niu Qidao: "..."

Truthfully, he’d hoped to skip the remaining half...

Clutching the shattered remnants of his teeth, Niu Qidao forced a smile uglier than a grimace. "...Y-Yes. Thank you... for your kindness, Demon Venerable."

Then, as if fearing Ji Qinghong might take further interest, he hastily added:

"The wager from the competition—once my brother wakes, we’ll send someone to deliver it immediately."

Ji Qinghong nodded in satisfaction.

He sighed nostalgically. "Though you’re neither young nor outstanding anymore, after my guidance, you’ve still grown into quite the remarkable talent."

Niu Qidao replied through gritted teeth, each word dripping with blood: "...How... profoundly... accurate."

For Ji Qinghong to call him a "talent," his ancestors must have gone a millennium without lighting a single stick of incense.

Observing how all things under heaven thrived like spring grass basking in the sun, Ji Qinghong smiled faintly.

Then, he bent down and took Yan Luoyue’s hand.

"Come. Let’s fetch that badge for you."

...

After walking a distance with Yan Luoyue, Ji Qinghong suddenly chuckled.

"That cannon blast of yours... I didn’t expect it to hit so hard."

As a top-tier artifact master of his era, he could tell Yan Luoyue had cranked the spirit stone energy to maximum when activating the device.

Ji Qinghong had assumed that a student so cherished and praised by Jiang Tingbai would share his mentor’s temperament—softer-hearted, more inclined to leave room for others.

Yet upon meeting her, the girl’s disposition suited his tastes far better.

Recalling Jiang Tingbai’s letter describing Yan Luoyue as "steady in forging her path, yet utterly lawless within her domain," Ji Qinghong found himself even more amused, his smile deepening.

Yan Luoyue rubbed her nose and admitted frankly: "Well, I’d already pissed him off beyond redemption. No point holding back."

It wasn’t as if breaking just one of Niu Shujian’s legs would earn her his gratitude.

The conflict was set, the hostility cemented, the feud now irreversible.

Might as well seize the chance to pummel him while she had backup.

At least while crippling his combat power, she got to enjoy herself.

After answering, Yan Luoyue stole a glance at Ji Qinghong—only to meet his crimson eyes, brimming with quiet mirth, staring unblinkingly at her.

Ji Qinghong feigned ignorance: "That ‘Five-Linked Sword’ you forged earlier—were you showing off for me?"

No gauze curtain could obstruct his divine sense.

To a casual observer, it might seem like mere spectacle—just five spirit-grade short swords.

But Ji Qinghong had watched Yan Luoyue’s entire crafting process from start to finish.

When she forged these five short swords, she employed five distinct and intricate techniques, yet they were all completed in a single furnace.

Such masterful craftsmanship was like the smith herself—radiant as the rising sun—reaching out to him with a confident, unspoken greeting.

—Are you watching me?

—You should be watching me.

How proud, how brilliant, how utterly unguarded.

Even the indifferent heavens might spare an extra glance for a sunflower like her.

To prove himself a worthy spectator, Ji Qinghong casually flicked a couple of demon-slaying cards from someone else’s hand, providing Yan Luoyue with an impromptu accompaniment.

The longsword forged from the five darksteel blades had yet to be named.

Yan Luoyue had initially considered calling it "Five Calabash Brothers" or "Vajra Calabash Brothers 2.0."

This content is taken from fгeewebnovёl.com.

But the name Ji Qinghong casually suggested seemed far more melodious.

In that case, let it be called the "Five-Linked Rings Sword."

Yan Luoyue nodded in acknowledgment. "Before entering Silver Phoenix Pavilion, I thought I caught a glimpse of you."

Since she’d guessed that higher-ups were conducting an inspection, of course she’d want to put her best foot forward.

Even elementary schoolers know to raise their hands eagerly when administrators sit in on a class.

As for running into Niu Shujian at the entrance—well, that was pure coincidence.

Honestly, the man had volunteered himself as a foil; Yan Luoyue hadn’t paid him to play the role.

Holding Yan Luoyue’s small hand, Ji Qinghong strolled forward at a leisurely pace.

From behind, the two of them—one tall, one petite, their long hair cascading down their backs in contrasting shades of white and black—looked almost like father and daughter.

With a faint smirk, Ji Qinghong asked with amused interest, "They all fear me. Why don’t you?"

The Niu brothers had trembled like they’d seen a ghost when Ji Qinghong merely patted their shoulders.

Their reactions paled in comparison to this little tortoise girl:

After walking side by side with Ji Qinghong for a stretch, her palm remained warm and dry, resting naturally in his grasp without a trace of tension.

Yan Luoyue chuckled sheepishly and touched the ornament at her waist. "Well…"

Dangling from her sash was an exceedingly ugly grass-woven figure, resembling a tailless giraffe, swaying with her every step.

Ji Qinghong’s voice softened further, serene as the sun-warmed sands where mandarin ducks dozed in spring.

Just hearing his tone, Yan Luoyue felt her mind drift momentarily, as if dissolving into the vastness of the world.

"No wonder Jiang Tingbai holds you in such high regard. You truly are a loyal and sentimental child."

Ji Qinghong sighed gently. "Apart from you and his sword, I’ve never seen a third thing that could endure wearing his woven pixiu."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Sorry, but the real reason she carried Jiang Tingbai’s pixiu was because her little pink flame adored his grass crafts and kept sneaking inside to play.

Still, she couldn’t help her surprise. "You could tell this was a pixiu?"

If Jiang Tingbai knew his work had finally earned recognition, he’d probably be moved to tears.

Something about her response seemed to amuse Ji Qinghong.

A glint of mischief flashed through his ruby-red eyes.

"All swordsmen are poor," he remarked airily. "If they weave something for blessings, it’s bound to be either a wealth toad or a pixiu. The one you’re wearing has a tail, so it must be a pixiu."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

That’s harsh, sir. Now you’re just attacking his profession.

Just as Yan Luoyue cleared her throat, preparing to tactfully defend Jiang Tingbai’s honor, a commemorative fifth-tier badge edged in faint gold was presented to her.

She accepted it with both hands and murmured her thanks.

"Silver Phoenix Pavilion’s highest certification is fifth-tier. If I want to advance further, are there similar venues at the Thousand Refinements Assembly?"

"You care about that?"

Yan Luoyue shook her head. "Not exactly. I just want to gauge my standing."

Having spent five years in the remote Yunning Great Marsh, her smithing skills could be summed up in four words: peerlessly unmatched.

Or, to put it more bluntly: within a thousand miles, no one stood a chance.

But the cultivation world was vast, and talents were countless.

Yan Luoyue wasn’t so arrogant as to assume her past achievements meant she could look down on all its heroes.

After a thoughtful pause, Ji Qinghong gave an offhand assessment.

"At your current level, you’d likely rank at seventh-tier."

…Seventh-tier?

Yan Luoyue absorbed this with a slow nod. "I see. Thank you, Your Eminence."

Only after pinning the badge to her chest did she suddenly realize: Wait, they hadn’t even reached the Feather Vault where the badges were stored. Where had this one come from?

As if reading her thoughts, Ji Qinghong replied with a playful smile:

"Young ones are so lively and endearing. An old, weary soul like me can’t help but want to keep you company for a while."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

If even a demon lord with such eccentric tastes could call himself "weathered and dull," then the other great masters of this era must be so decrepit they could be buried straight into their coffins.

Ji Qinghong said gently, "Of course, I won't borrow your time for nothing."

Having spent this while together, Yan Luoyue had relaxed considerably compared to their first meeting.

She teased in return, "Does the demon lord have more teachings for me?"

"That… can wait."

Ji Qinghong chuckled lightly and spread his palm before her.

Resting in his flawless, jade-like hand was a resplendent token, as ornate as a peacock's feather, its brilliance shimmering with an inner glow.

Yan Luoyue accepted it with both hands, uncertain. "…What is this?"

"An admission pass, indicating you’ve passed the trial for this Thousand Refinements Assembly."

Ji Qinghong spoke casually, "If you’re interested, you can take the test yourself in a few days. The token is anonymous and transferable—I recall you have two companions with you?"

"Thank you."

"No need. It’s useless to me anyway." Ji Qinghong waved it off. "My face is the admission pass."

Compared to his earlier attitude toward the Niu brothers, his treatment of Yan Luoyue wasn’t just lenient—it bordered on exceptional favor.

Yan Luoyue touched the grass-woven charm at her waist, feeling an answer rise to the tip of her tongue.

She ventured, "Could you be…?"

Before she could finish, the silver-haired man pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head, clearly unwilling to broach the topic yet.

Instead, he changed the subject. "That confiscation notice I gave you before—do you still have it?"

Yan Luoyue quickly retrieved the Thousand Refinements Assembly invitation from her sleeve.

"Here. I used it to bring my friends in."

Ji Qinghong took the invitation, glanced at it, and smiled faintly before returning it to her untouched.

"Since you were the one who flaunted your skills to draw me out, I can’t let you off easy. Seven days ago, I only expected this much from you. But now, knowing it’s you, you should be capable of more."

"Solve it, and I’ll answer the question you want to ask."

The echo of his voice lingered in the air, but Ji Qinghong’s figure dissipated like mist, vanishing without a trace.

His appearance and departure were like a snowfall of peach blossoms under the sun—the petals still dancing in the spring breeze, while the snowflakes had already melted into vapor, leaving only a lingering coolness in the lungs.

Were it not for the token still resting in Yan Luoyue’s hand, proof of the exchange’s reality, the entire conversation might have felt like a fleeting dream.

Yan Luoyue stared at the invitation, deep in thought.

From Ji Qinghong’s implications, it seemed she had only unraveled the first layer of the puzzle he’d left for her.

……

Returning to the inn, Yan Luoyue buried herself in deciphering Ji Qinghong’s riddle for days.

After relentless day-and-night study, she finally discovered that beneath the initial refinement technique lay a second, deeper and more natural layer of craftsmanship.

Yan Luoyue: "…"

This nested, matryoshka-doll style of testing made her suspect Ji Qinghong was toying with her.

But now that she’d grasped the approach, all that remained was persistent trial and error to reverse-engineer the answer.

During this time, a disciple from Hongtong Palace visited once, delivering the "Soulmourn Flame" bet by the Niu brothers.

As for the Niu brothers themselves… Rumor had it they were recuperating behind closed doors.

Given the abundance of miraculous medicines in the cultivation world, their injuries weren’t irreparable.

Yan Luoyue strongly suspected they were nursing the psychological wounds inflicted by Ji Qinghong.

In any case, she accepted the Soulmourn Flame without reservation.

Heaven-and-earth anomalous flames were priceless treasures—even a mere clue to one was worth a fortune.

The Niu family had entrenched themselves in Hongtong Palace for generations, forming a powerful faction within the sect.

As a true disciple and the family’s favored successor, Niu Shujian’s "Soulmourn Flame" had been meticulously selected.

In other words… this flame was even more valuable than most.

Yan Luoyue pocketed her winnings, mentally calculating the approximate sum in spirit stones, and was thoroughly pleased.

Like a schoolchild eager to show off a new set of Monster Slayer cards, she shared her new acquisition with her two friends.

Ling Shuanghun, ever the well-read historian, lived up to his reputation.

Even regarding this flame, passed down through generations in Hongtong Palace, he had insights to share.

"The Soulmourn Flame is one of the most vicious among anomalous flames. Not only can it refine artifacts, but it’s also a weapon. Its name supposedly comes from its effect when used in attacks."

Ling Shuanghun’s expression turned grave. "Those struck by it are left dispirited and restless, their minds unsettled for one to three months before recovering…"

Yan Luoyue interjected, "That symptom… sounds an awful lot like encountering Ji Qinghong."

Ling Shuanghun: "…"

Wu Manshuang had been sitting beside the two of them, his body slightly tilted toward Yan Luoyue.

Resting his chin in one hand, he remained silent, only nodding in agreement whenever the conversation reached an especially engaging point.

Yan Luoyue poked Wu Manshuang’s arm. "Manshuang, you’ve been unusually quiet these past couple of days."

Wu Manshuang startled upright, clearly caught off guard by the question.

He knew Yan Luoyue had been incredibly busy lately, pouring nearly all her energy into deciphering the invitation.

Yet even so, she had still noticed his subdued demeanor.

For a moment, it was as if a ray of honeyed sunlight had pierced through the dust-filled hall, brightening everything in its path.

Unconsciously, the corners of Wu Manshuang’s lips curled upward.

His voice carried a lightness he hadn’t even realized himself as he replied, "I’ve been thinking about something these past few days…"

"Thinking about what?" Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun leaned in, pressing him in unison.

Under their expectant gazes, Wu Manshuang lowered his head slightly, a faint, bashful smile playing on his lips.

Then, from beneath the table, he lifted a cage containing a vicious-looking demon rat, its teeth bared in a snarl.

Removing his gloves, Wu Manshuang gently touched the rat’s back with a hollow reed.

Within seconds, the demon rat’s fur stood completely on end!

It thrashed wildly, crashing into the cage walls as if forcibly dosed with gallons of medicinal alcohol, its shrill, panicked shrieks filling the air.

In a hesitant, uncertain murmur, Wu Manshuang asked, "Is this… roughly the effect you meant by ‘Soul-Scorching Flame’?"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Ling Shuanghun: "…"