I Ruined the Long Ao Tian Script
Chapter 111

Execution

"Xu Shulou? Why is it you again?"

The sect leader of Qingcheng greeted Xu Shulou with this rather enthusiastic welcome.

He didn’t even bother asking why the disciples at the gate hadn’t stopped her—after all, she always found a way to get what she wanted. Might as well save the sect some silver for repairing the grand hall.

On any other day, Xu Shulou might have joked with him, but now her expression was grave. "I’ve found traces of Senior Yu Qishuang."

"What?" The sect leader shot to his feet. "Senior Sister Yu? Are you certain?"

Xu Shulou nodded and stepped aside, revealing the cart behind her. She lifted the silk cloth covering it, exposing two lifeless puppets lying beneath.

The sect leader rushed forward. "This… this…"

Xu Shulou remained silent, watching as his expression shifted from shock to fury. "What in the world happened?!"

She sighed softly. "It started a year ago. I was attacked on my way to Xuancang Academy. The weapon used was a Frost Plum Umbrella..."

"What?"

Xu Shulou recounted everything she had witnessed since the attack. The grand hall fell into silence, her voice the only sound echoing within. When she mentioned the golden core forged from the gathered spiritual energy of many, she noticed a young disciple at the door wiping away tears.

She nudged the unconscious man lying at her feet with her boot—she had carried him all the way to Qingcheng. "This is the mastermind behind it all."

The story was too bizarre, too infuriating. Whether from the perspective of Qingcheng’s reputation, the bond between sect siblings, or the righteous fury of cultivators, it was enough to enrage the sect leader. Casting aside all dignity, he grabbed the man by the hair and yanked his face into view.

"Him?!" The sect leader recognized the face and roared, "This… this wretched thing…"

The young disciple at the door couldn’t resist peeking. At the sight, he gasped, his voice tinged with sorrow. That such promising geniuses had fallen to someone like this—who wouldn’t feel a pang of grief?

The sect leader seized the man’s collar and slapped him twice, each strike infused with spiritual energy. "Wake up and speak, you scum!"

Over three hundred years, Qingcheng had seen multiple sect leaders. The current one had no conflicts of interest with Yu Qishuang—only fond memories of their past camaraderie. His fury now was anything but feigned.

But Xu Shulou had knocked the man out rather thoroughly for easier transport. Despite his swollen face, he remained unconscious.

The sect leader tossed him aside like a dead dog and turned to his disciples. "I want his soul scorched under the sun for forty-nine days—let him beg for death but find no relief! See if that wakes him!"

"Yes!" The disciples, having heard the full story, eagerly dragged the man away.

The sect leader still seethed but, noticing Xu Shulou’s expression, felt compelled to explain. "The soul-scorching artifact was recently confiscated from another sect. We rarely resort to such methods. Qingcheng is a righteous—"

Xu Shulou cut him off. "I understand. I have no objections."

The sect leader sat down, closing his eyes for a long moment to steady himself. "Xu Shulou, Senior Sister Yu… who is the other beside her?"

"I don’t know," Xu Shulou admitted. "And the three unmarked graves in the mountain garden—Qingcheng must restore their names."

The sect leader nodded solemnly. "We will."

Xu Shulou hesitated. "There are also a few items of mine in his possession..."

"Once we extract the information, we’ll return them immediately."

Qingcheng’s integrity in such matters was beyond reproach, so Xu Shulou raised no further concerns.

The sect leader composed himself, straightened his robes, and bowed to her. "Thank you, Xu Shulou. Without you, these injustices might never have come to light."

"Don’t thank me. I should be thanking them."

The sect leader understood her meaning and sighed heavily, his heart heavy with sorrow.

———

Word of Qingcheng’s actions spread swiftly across the cultivation world, shocking all who heard.

On the day of the public execution, Qingcheng opened its gates, inviting cultivators from all corners to witness. The grand spectacle served not only to mourn Yu Qishuang but also as a warning—a deterrent against wicked ambitions.

That day, countless people arrived, filling even the skies with hovering cultivators. Some were furious, others merely curious, and many had come to pay their final respects to Yu Qishuang, whom they owed their lives to.

At noon, Qingcheng disciples began reciting the criminal’s charges. The story was straightforward, yet it left many listeners trembling with dread.

Knowing death was inevitable, the man had repeatedly tried to kill himself, only to be thwarted each time. Under Qingcheng’s relentless torture—the soul-scorching torment that bypassed the body to sear the spirit directly—he had broken on the third day, confessing the identities of the nameless dead.

But the sect leader was a man of his word. Forty-nine days of scorching meant forty-nine days.

Now, at the execution, the crowd seethed with the victims’ friends and acquaintances, their hatred so palpable they longed to tear the criminal apart with their bare hands.

After the charges were read, Qingcheng’s executioner stepped forward. Under the crowd’s watchful eyes, the blade descended, severing the criminal’s head.

Many in the crowd secretly wished the blade were duller, that it might take hours of agony to finish the job.

Once the head rolled, some spat on it in contempt.

Meanwhile, the victims’ loved ones surrounded Xu Shulou, offering tearful gratitude. She refused their grand gestures, instead solemnly returning the life-saving golden core to the victim’s sect, prompting fresh sobs.

This incident reshaped many people’s perceptions of Xu Shulou. When they heard how she had used her own rib to block the puppet’s sword, they winced—this woman was as ruthless to herself as she was to others.

Her fellow disciples from Bright Moon Peak of Dustless Island had rushed to the scene. Bai Roushuang clung to her senior sister, weeping uncontrollably, alternating between fretting over her rib and her left arm. The others looked no better. Shan Yu, silent as ever, hurled a stone to smash the criminal’s severed head, startling the Qingcheng disciples too much to intervene.

Qingcheng then publicly destroyed every item in the criminal’s storage ring, ensuring the puppet-making technique vanished with them.

Yu Qishuang was laid to rest in Qingcheng’s back mountains. The Snow-Rivaling Fairy, who had wandered for over three centuries, had finally returned home. Many came to bid her farewell.

Afterward, the Qingcheng sect leader formally thanked Xu Shulou once more before the assembled crowd, declaring her an honored guest of Qingcheng and offering her free access to the sect’s treasure vault as a reward.

"I don’t..." Xu Shulou was about to say she didn’t want to profit from this matter, but then she realized that the entire world was watching the Qingcheng Sect at this moment, and the sect leader truly had to express his gratitude in such a manner. So she changed her mind and accepted.

Her Qiankun Bracelet and Quexie Sword were naturally returned to her as well. The moment Xu Shulou grasped the Spirit-Gathering Pearl, a powerful surge of spiritual energy flooded her body, forcibly breaking through the sealed restraints. Due to her repeated refinement of the limited spiritual energy she could access over the past year, her entire reserve had become even more purified.

The Qingcheng Sect leader invited her to a secluded spot and took out a pagoda-shaped magical artifact. With a flick of his wrist, the small pagoda spun in the air and expanded, each layer growing to over a person’s height. He then gestured and said, "Fellow Daoist Xu, please."

Xu Shulou ignored the rare treasures and only picked two Spirit-Gathering Pearls. These were far too important—they could save lives in critical moments. She planned to have them crafted into hair ornaments, earrings, and waist accessories upon her return, ensuring they were infused with spiritual energy and carried at all times. She even considered commissioning a skilled artisan to alter their appearance, making sure no one could recognize them as Spirit-Gathering Pearls.

Her modesty made the Qingcheng Sect leader somewhat uneasy. "Take a few more items," he urged. "This Dragon-Tiger Spirit Herb can stabilize the mind and soothe the spirit. Fellow Daoist Xu, after the fright you’ve endured, you could use such herbs. Please, take it."

Just as Xu Shulou was about to respond, her gaze fell on a ring-shaped artifact beside the herb. She paused. "What is this?"

The sect leader followed her line of sight. "Have you heard of the concept of the Three Thousand Worlds, Fellow Daoist Xu?"

"Of course."

"Three thousand worlds, a hundred billion Sumerus. This ring is an artifact capable of traversing the Three Thousand Worlds. It’s called the Sumeru Ring," the sect leader explained. "In theory, it’s an extremely precious artifact, but in practice... well, you’ll see for yourself. It’s not particularly useful."

Xu Shulou picked up the artifact for a closer look.

The sect leader smiled wryly. "At this point, its only function is to change its appearance at will, allowing fashion-conscious young men and women to wear a different style every day. If you like it, Fellow Daoist Xu, please take it."

"There’s something strangely familiar about the aura of this ring."

Xu Shulou searched her memories for a long moment before recalling a past event buried deep in her mind. It was during her first trip to the Void Abyss Secret Realm with her junior sister Bai Roushuang. In an ice cave, she had obtained a bracelet—one that caused their souls to leave their bodies, transporting them to another realm. There, she and Bai Roushuang had been tied to a tree while the kidnappers questioned Lu Beichen, who had rushed to the scene, demanding to know which of the two he would save...

Later, with so many things happening, Xu Shulou had never used the dangerous bracelet again. Only now did she remember it, retrieving it from her Qiankun Bracelet and placing it beside the ring for comparison.

"Their auras do indeed share the same origin, and their appearances seem complementary," the Qingcheng Sect leader remarked, sensing it as well. "Fellow Daoist Xu, what kind of artifact is this?"

Xu Shulou shook her head. "Just something I stumbled upon. I don’t know either."

The sect leader didn’t dwell on it, nodding in understanding. Once Xu Shulou had chosen the Sumeru Ring, he briefly explained its usage before leading her out of the treasure vault and shrinking the pagoda back to its original size.

Afterward, Xu Shulou bid farewell to the Qingcheng Sect and set off for Dustless Island with her fellow sect members.

She ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍repeatedly assured them that she was fine—the Qingcheng Sect leader had already arranged for the best healers to treat her injuries. The group scrutinized her from head to toe, confirming no lingering wounds before finally settling down. Still, Xu Shulou had a feeling that, for a long time to come, she wouldn’t be able to shake off the little tails following her around.

Apart from her second junior brother Song Ping, she hadn’t seen the others in eight years. They poured out their sorrows of separation, sharing their experiences over the years as they escorted her toward Bright Moon Peak.