Chapter 108: The Dual Masters of Literature and Martial Arts [Additional Chapter]

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The infant custom-made by Sansan was the top scorer in the first round. After a night had passed, news spread that the Yun family had once again suffered losses at her hands. Some said she had already surpassed the Celestial level and had obtained the secret method of waterless creation. On the competition grounds today, everyone’s eyes were red as they looked at her.

Sight cannot kill; at least, no one present could kill with a mere gaze. Sansan allowed others to watch her without fear or unease, her expression calm. She even had the leisure to contemplate how to deal with the little one the Heavenly Emperor had brought back.

She did not want to be a mother, nor did she feel any special affection toward the child due to genetic ties. Now she somewhat understood her mother’s thoughts—because the child was not carried for nine months, no emotional investment was made, no expectations were placed on it. Thus, even with blood ties, abandonment and exploitation were possible.

Sansan would not exploit the child, but abandonment... she began to doubt her own moral integrity.

The second round’s challenge was healing—the mending of soul fractures. Every grand painter was assigned patients with identical injuries, clearly the work of the “Heavenly Dao.”

It seemed the Lord of Danxia wanted to select those with potential in soul fusion.

Sansan curled the corners of her mouth. While others were still devising healing plans based on the degree of soul fragmentation, her patient had already fully recovered. She left early once again. On her way back to the dormitory, she checked on Xiuer, who had recovered well. Retracting the temporal-spatial law from her, Sansan adjusted the fusion talisman array before finally having time to study the gift left by her predecessor.

The so-called waterless creation secret technique was, in fact, a second-tier creation law. Besides the creation law itself, it contained a fusion law star of the fourth tier that acted upon the soul. However, the fluctuations of this fusion star were weak, having been extracted before. Only the Lord of Danxia could achieve this within this small world.

Sansan felt that since entering the Danxia Painting Realm, she had been walking a path set by others—from creating necessities of life, to infant transformation, then to resurrection, and now receiving the predecessor’s chip. Xiuer’s injuries also had an explanation—it was likely intended for her to practice the fusion law.

This gift before her was less a benevolent gift from her predecessor and more a coercion from the Lord of Danxia. Resistance was futile; the cautionary tales were right in front of her eyes. Cooperation would yield not only the laws but countless treasures at will.

Could she refuse?

Sansan asked herself and after some thought answered: yes.

Could she bear the cost of refusal?

She pondered carefully and replied: as long as she did not die, there was nothing she could not endure.

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But was it worth it?

This time Sansan was silent for a long time, then smiled, her eyes as dark as ink. “Not worth it. Sacrificing the chance to improve for people who have nothing to do with me is very much not worth it.”

Yet, the Lord of Danxia was infuriating.

Sansan’s displeasure showed in the following matches. In the literary contests, she finished with the fastest, best results and left promptly. The crowd, once shocked, grew accustomed to her flawless performances.

Across five literary contests—infant customization, soul healing, corpse-free resurrection, true body resurrection, and finally, resurrection without any tether—only the resurrection involving a fragment of a soul with memory was slightly flawed. Sansan took first place perfectly in all others.

Rumors about forged royal identities within the noble circles vanished. Actual royal family members appeared to clarify matters. The royal jade disks were issued not only by clans but also by the Holy Palace. However, the Holy Palace had not issued jade disks for thousands of years, so no one remembered this possibility.

The martial contests had three rounds: from a hundred contestants down to ten, then three, and finally one-on-one battles among thirty.

In the first round, Sansan was targeted by dozens but remained arrogant. She didn’t even summon her battle beast, using only her bare hands to swat over fifty opponents like flies. Her methods were extremely brutal, causing the audience’s hair to stand on end and sweat to pour. Her opponents, terrified, jumped off the arena in surrender, leaving only those who had not joined the alliance cautiously selecting the remaining nine away from her.

In the second round, from ten to three survivors, the other nine ignored Sansan entirely, fighting over the remaining two spots.

In the third round of one-on-one fights, her opponents either surrendered proactively or requested sparring. Those who resisted became spirits in her palm. The only one allowed to have a battle beast was the Dean of Qinghe Institute, who had struggled to reach this stage but still lost.

The dual champions of this competition—the top in both literary and martial arts—were Sansan, who swept the board without objection. She even earned titles like “Bloodhand Witch” and “Darkhand Fiend,” rumored to be able to stop a baby’s crying.

The grand prize included the highest-ranking fiefdom, followed by noble titles and then law pills, armor, and spirit crystals.

Sansan’s royal jade disk was verified as authentic. She chose the Red Leaf City for her fiefdom, ignoring the city lord’s displeased expression, handing it over to Xing Yu’s management, and then boarded the Snow Crane with the Holy Palace emissaries.

Ten candidates were selected to proceed to the Holy Palace; Qinghe Dean was among them. Given the results, this was incredible and sparked criticism, but the Holy Palace envoy personally appointed them. Critics dared only whisper behind backs, and the Dean himself was uneasy, suspecting some connection to Sansan.

Sansan guessed the reason: the master of the Holy Palace was the same as the Lord of Danxia, likely using the Dean of Qinghe to coerce her into obedience.

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Unfortunately, she was not a mere child. Sometimes a smile did not mean familiarity, such as with the Dean of Qinghe; sometimes kindness did not mean closeness, as with Xing Yu and Xiuer.

She was not the Golden Heavenly Emperor; how could an outsider’s life threaten her? Even if she were willing to cooperate, it was because she had already made her own choice.

Sansan stood atop the Snow Crane. The fierce wind brushed past her, instantly becoming gentle, softly caressing her hair and billowing her skirt and sleeves. To onlookers, her silhouette appeared ethereal and otherworldly.

In the distance, snow-capped mountains appeared faintly on the horizon. Sansan could already see the palace clusters atop the peaks, where perennial ice and snow lingered, surrounded by dense spiritual energy and an unmistakably profound aura.

Though no one was visible, the aura itself was a greeting. Sansan released her own star force fluctuations in return as a courtesy.

As expected, the master of the Holy Palace was indeed the Lord of Danxia.

The Snow Crane landed on the icy surface before the palace gates. The palace had no doors. A divine servant dressed in priestly robes waited, likely a person of high status. The Holy Palace emissary disembarked hastily and saluted: “Master Senluo, the outstanding seeds from this year’s painting competition have arrived.”

Senluo nodded and then smiled warmly, bypassing the emissary to approach Sansan, who had just alighted from the Snow Crane and was gazing up at the palace. Before the astonished crowd, he bowed deeply.

“Princess San, this year’s snow lotus tea is excellent. The master has awaited your arrival. Please come and enjoy it.”

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