Lihua's Fragrant Chronicles

When that sword fell, heaven and earth fell silent. That is no figure of speech. They truly fell silent. The wind stopped, the clouds froze, and even the distant hum of the mountain-protecting formation ceased in that instant. Because this sword belonged to no spell, no law, and no known system of power. It was a tribulation sent down by the Heavenly Dao itself, an “unsolvable problem” designed specifically for Chen Ningxue. She was the one who controlled the rules, while this sword existed outside every rule. It could not be stopped. It could not be diverted. It could not be evaded. Chen Ningxue watched the sword light plunge from the far edge of the heavens, sealing off every avenue of escape. The power of her rules unfolded around her in seventeen layers of domains. Wherever the sword light passed, all seventeen shattered like thin paper. Behind her was Pei Guhui, whose meridians had been shattered by the Heavenly Dao's backlash. Pei Guhui knelt on one knee, blood gushing from his seven orifices and staining half his face. Summoning the last of his strength, he roared: “Go... Chen Ningxue, go...” Chen Ningxue did not look back. She lowered her eyes to her hand. A final wisp of the power of rules still circled her fingertips, like a candle about to burn out. In that moment, many things suddenly came back to her. She remembered the dusty golden plaque in the Outer Sect Hall the first time she used “impartiality and incorruptibility” to make Steward Zhou confess his crimes. She remembered the incredulous looks on the gifted disciples' faces at the sect assembly. She remembered the Buddhist Son asking her, “What exactly is it that you cultivate?” She had not answered then. Now she knew. What she cultivated was not power, not cultivation level, and not invincibility beneath heaven.