After the Pure Body Was Sacrificed, My Drunken Master Perished with the Heavens

Su Yue transmigrated into a book and became the heroine, a Pure-Bodied cultivator whose bones and sinews were destined to be torn out by her master in the original story. To stay alive, she rejected her tyrannical master Xuan Xiao in front of everyone and knelt before the drunken Xuan Wuyou. “Master, I can down a jin and a half of baijiu, and I can drink as much beer as you like!” Three cups later, she was out cold and carried back to her room. A Pure Body? No, a good-for-nothing body! After three months, she still couldn’t master sword flight or memorize the Heart Sutra. Her drunken master never drew his sword, yet every move struck straight at his opponent’s vitals. With her, though, he held back seven-tenths of his sword energy. Xuan Wuyou always kept his word when teaching his disciples. Get one line of the Heart Sutra wrong? A red welt would burst across her palm! Fail to mind her manners? Then she would kneel for two full hours! But if anyone else dared lay a finger on her... The pressure of that sealed sword was enough to leave people gasping, even before it was drawn. “She’s my disciple. Who gave anyone else the right to discipline her?” Later, he left the sect for her. “I’m not your master anymore.” Later, Su Yue discovered that her spiritual root could help him break through to the Deity Transformation Realm. Without a moment’s hesitation, she opened her own dantian, only for Xuan Wuyou to strike her three zhang away. “Who told you that you could hurt yourself?” His drunken eyes were bloodshot, yet when he lifted her into his arms, even his breathing turned feather-light. An ancient fragment of a scroll foretold: Snow falls in the demon realm, dust settles in the mortal world, the Heavenly Dao fades, and the Pure Body scatters. “The Heavenly Dao wants you dead?” Xuan Wuyou tipped back the last of his fiery liquor. His three-foot sword slid from its sheath, and the wine jar hit the ground. “Did it ask my sword first?”