At the moment when Mystic Isle's brilliance soared into the sky, Jill Young didn’t need any further assistance to clearly sense the presence of the second Limit Monument. She knew this monument was connected to spiritual power, perhaps similar to the situation with the Earth Tree on Mystic Isle. If she could seize the opportunity with the second Limit Monument, she would gain a tremendous boost in spiritual strength—possibly even attain the Spirit Rank directly.
Bathed in the Earth Tree’s radiance, Jill could even vaguely sense the location of the second Limit Monument, and the timing of its emergence. She recognized this as a kind of invitation—after all, her own spiritual power was not far from the Spirit Rank, and she’d already received the perfect legacy from the first Limit Monument. In the Limit Monument inheritance sequence, her priority was high.
But the fact that the Stormstone could also transmit this news? Now that was an interesting twist.
Jill Young and Joan sat side by side on the dragon throne, chatting for ages. The main topic was Jill’s experiences inside the Earth Tree and her wild guesses about the two stones. Late at night, Joan took her food box and left. Beneath the stars, she walked with the easy grace of a water sprite—her steps relaxed and flowing. It looked like an ordinary girl’s after-dinner stroll, nothing special, but truthfully, she seemed to slip right out of the mundane world, gliding past all the palace guards without anyone noticing.
She looked slow, but was actually fast—if she truly wanted to, she could’ve been back in her little room and deep into meditation in no time.
But she didn’t. Instead, she strolled around the palace at a leisurely pace, just like any regular person out for a midnight walk.
"Ugh, I hope nobody figured anything out." Joan fretted a little. Just now, her emotions got the better of her, and she’d blurted out her true feelings. Looking back, suddenly bringing up "reincarnation" at a moment like that was a bit weird. She’d always been cautious, not wanting Jill Young to find out about a certain secret. This was something she’d decided to keep hidden forever—she definitely didn’t want to slip up now.
Luckily, Jill Young just thought she was researching the Prajna Technique or investigating the secret of the Golden Wheel Dharma King's reincarnated child. Jill was full of curiosity and asked a couple of questions, which Joan answered flawlessly. That was enough to brush off the whole thing.
The night breeze played with her hair as Joan lifted her right hand for a closer look. Her hand was soft and delicate, white as jade—any hand enthusiast would be obsessed. But under her gaze, a faint, cryptic bloodline suddenly appeared on the back of her hand. The skin around it instantly turned dry, gray, and aged, as if time itself had rushed by in a flash.
In a flash, Joan whipped out a tiny jade bottle with her left hand. With a sharp burst of energy, she sliced open the tip of her right finger. She uncorked the bottle, focused her energy, and—drip, drip, drip—fresh blood was forced into the bottle, one drop at a time.
These fresh bloodstains looked perfectly normal, and the smell didn’t seem off either. But anyone with sharp senses would instinctively shiver and make sure not a single drop touched them.
After a moment, the strange, dark blood lines faded from the skin, and that patch of lifeless flesh regained its luster and warmth. With the bad blood drained, the creepy decay was held at bay—at least for now. But Joan sealed the jade vial tightly and sighed. Bloodletting was just a band-aid, not a cure, and frankly, it was already the last resort of last resorts.
It’s like those free painkillers they hand out in hospitals when you’re in late-stage cancer—just masks the pain, nothing more.
“Time’s running out,” Joan murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Suddenly, her gaze sharpened—she spotted a window still glowing with lamplight. Behind it, a regular palace maid was burning the midnight oil, embroidering stitch by stitch. Watching this ordinary scene, Joan’s lips curled in a faint smile, as if she’d just remembered something: “Forget the next life—let’s fight for this one.”
From that day on, the palace staff under Imperial Consort Mia Wise started noticing subtle changes.
When Mia Wise entered the palace, she brought two handmaidens with her. They’d always been pretty low-profile. The taller one used to show up now and then, but then she suddenly vanished. The other one was even more elusive—nobody knew what mysterious business she was up to. Of course, the staff kept their mouths shut; people disappearing in the palace wasn’t rare, and nobody wanted to end up in deep trouble just for gossiping.
But from this day on, the youngest of Mia Wise’s personal maids started popping up here and there.
She never stayed long, but every time she showed up, she was like a kid seeing the world for the first time—trying everything with wide-eyed curiosity. She had this vibe you just couldn’t pin down, so nobody really treated her like a servant. Still, she’d throw herself into even the most ordinary chores—watering, sweeping, whatever—with genuine interest, just for the fun of it.
She’d haggle with the eunuchs at the Office of Internal Affairs over supplies.
She’d head to the Imperial Kitchens, roll up her sleeves, and whip up a feast herself.
She’d go to the laundry, scrub clothes and wash basins, roll up her sleeves, and sweep the floors like it was the highlight of her day.
Sometimes she’d just pause and listen to the staff gossip and shoot the breeze. She rarely chimed in—just quietly listened and smiled.
It was as if she’d discovered a special kind of happiness in the most ordinary, mundane, even tedious things. She did everything with cheerful enthusiasm, yet with a calm ease. She didn’t spend much time out and about—most of her day was indoors—but whenever she did step out, she treated every little task like it was the most important thing in the world, totally focused.
When she swept the floor, she did it with full concentration, as if the fallen leaves held some profound secret and she was learning it through sweeping.
When she washed clothes, she gave it her all—like every shirt was a once-in-a-lifetime delicacy, calmly making sure each piece was spotless.
She was a remarkably clever girl, instantly likable. Once, a maid taught her to cut paper window flowers, and she picked it up in a flash. Her red paper phoenixes weren’t just crafts—they were art, full of spirit. They almost seemed alive, ready to sing and soar right off the table.
She really was a magical little girl.
At first, people gossiped behind her back—someone this spirited would probably get summoned to the emperor’s chambers someday, and that’d be her ticket to the top. But gradually, they just felt sorry for her. A girl like that should be free, not wasting her youth stuck in the palace, mired in the muck.
But no matter what people thought, the little maid lived happily and contentedly, enjoying each day and night in her own way.
Meanwhile, Eunuch Chief Yvonne was buried in research, completely focused. She forgot to eat, forgot to rest, and spent nearly every moment deep in thought and effort. Only at midnight would Joan show up with food, and then Yvonne would chow down, rewarding her hardworking 'temple of five organs.'
Supreme Skill chipped away at the blockages in her energy, and her martial power soared. Meanwhile, she got a front-row seat to the inner workings of the dynasty—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Her martial arts notebook wasn’t filling up fast, but she started a brand-new one for a different set of insights. Maybe it wouldn’t be useful right away, but she was sure that in ten years or less, it’d be a real treasure for whoever came after her.
“With this, even if I suddenly disappear, everyone else can keep going.”
That day, Supreme Skill hit the sixty-year mark. Her cultivation was now complete—she was officially a top-tier expert. The next step was breaking through her energy channels and reaching the legendary threshold. This was crucial, especially for women practicing Supreme Skill—it was risky and one wrong move could spell disaster.
Jill Young didn’t want to poke and prod her way through, slowly grinding away at her energy blockages. She knew that might work for others, but it wouldn’t break her own barrier. Instead, she started seriously conserving her energy, sharpening her inner sword. When that sword couldn’t be held back any longer, she’d break through.
The next night, at midnight.
“It’s getting chilly. I made you a new cloak.” Joan draped a black Cloak of Dominion over Jill Young’s shoulders, stepped back, and nodded in satisfaction. “Perfect fit, if I do say so myself.”
“You made this yourself? Not bad, kid!” Jill jumped up, twirling the cloak, clearly delighted. “I’ve always wanted something bold—like a ‘Tiger King Conquers the World’ kind of vibe. I was thinking of pulling rank and getting the imperial tailor to make one, but yours is even better! Great fabric, awesome style, perfect size—love it! Your queen is very pleased~~ So, Joan, you know how to embroider?”
“Just learned. What, you want me to embroider something on it?”
“Stitch a few words for me, right in the center—use the shiniest thread you can find and embroider four big characters: ‘Champion of the World!’” Jill slung an arm around Joan’s shoulder and traced a grand imaginary scene in the air. “Picture this: I’m standing on a mountain, sword raised, wind whipping my Cloak of Dominion, and those words blazing—‘Champion of the World!’ It’ll be so cool, people will need sunglasses just to look at me!”
"Uh..." Joan squinted at her.
“Don’t call it cringey! I’m the queen of this place, and Supreme Skill fits the theme perfectly.” Jill nodded to herself, loving her own idea. “Yup, it’s settled!”
Joan couldn’t help but laugh. “Heaven and earth, I alone reign supreme—that’s what Buddha realized when he achieved enlightenment. Aren’t you worried the monks will come after you for blasphemy? And even if you’re not, why only write ‘Champion of the World’? Where’s the first half of the phrase?”
“Because ‘Heaven Above, Only Me’ is for your cloak!” Jill patted Joan’s shoulder like it was obvious, grinning. “I never let anyone else have the ‘Above’ position, but you’re stronger than me for now, so I’ll let you hold onto it. When I finally beat you, I’m taking your cloak!”
“You…” Joan felt a strange mix of affection, amusement, and something she couldn’t quite name. In the end, she just sighed and shook her head. “You’re impossible—hand over your hair.”
“My hair?” Jill blinked. “Why do you need my hair again?”
“Didn’t you say you wanted the shiniest color? Nothing sparkles like your hair.” Joan whipped out a pair of scissors, eyes gleaming like a chef spotting legendary ingredients. She snipped the air and advanced. “Come on, hand it over!”
“Wait, give me a few days!” Jill clutched her head and backed away. “The Empress is meeting me tomorrow, so I can’t show up with a new haircut!”
“The Empress?” Joan looked puzzled. “What does she want with you?”
“Who knows? Some fat guy said she’ll give me whatever Eunuch Liu ‘dreams of day and night’ to show her sincerity. The Empress is basically the most powerful person in the palace after me—she’s on Jia Sidao’s side. With the Emperor barely in charge and Jia running wild, keeping the Empress on my good side is smart. So I’ll squeeze in a visit. Also, I’m curious what Liu dreams of anyway.”