Heavens' Laughter

With a sickening crack, Pàng Guī's entire head exploded in a gruesome spray of blood and bone.

The sound echoed throughout, leaving a silence in its wake.

The twisted remains of what was once been Pàng Guī's head lay scattered.

Feng Shen, unbothered, calmly lifted his foot from the splattered remains.

He glanced down at his bloodstained footwear with mild annoyance.

"Tsk," Feng Shen muttered, shaking his foot to fling off the gore.

The casualness of the motion was more chilling than the act itself to most present, as if this was nothing more than an inconvenient mess to this demon.

Feng Shen found himself teleported back to his seat.

Everything else resumed its routine, the mechanical voice announcing the next match as if the brutal scene moments ago had never occurred.

Feng Shen didn't care.

His boredom had already returned, a crushing weight that dulled the thrill of his earlier actions.

Slouching in his chair, Feng Shen tilted his head back and closed his eyes, tuning out the noise around him.

The mechanical voice droned on, calling out names and announcing random things.

But to Feng Shen, it was nothing more than background static.

He sighed, tapping his fingers idly on the armrest.

'This trial's a joke,' Feng Shen thought to himself, his mind already wandering to other, more interesting ways to entertain himself.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

As the trial finally concluded, a wave of disorientation swept over the winners.

Those who had passed slowly stirred, as if waking up.

Blinking against the surreal stillness of the aftermath, they rubbed their eyes and shakily stood, their bodies heavy with fatigue and their minds reeling from the ordeal.

There were no signs of the losers—not a single body, no blood, no remnants of their existence.

It was as if those who had failed had been erased entirely, their presence wiped clean from the space.
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Of the many who had enrolled, only a couple hundred remained.

Most of the participants from that demon's pool, once full of hope and ambition, were simply... gone.

Most of them exchanged wary glances, their expressions of unease.

No one spoke.

In the corner, Feng Shen stood, completely unaffected.

His eyes remained half-lidded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

To Feng Shen, the disappearance of the weak was inconsequential—mere dust swept away by the winds of cultivation.

'Good riddance. Though... hopefully my personal servant and little maid survived. If they didn't, it'll be a pain for me—a real hindrance. But not the end of the world…'

However, it seemed that Feng Shen wouldn't need to endure such trivial hindrances.

As his personal servant and little maid lingered in stunned silence, emerging from the crowd.

Yùn Yì's expression was heavy with sadness, her usual composure replaced by a vulnerability.

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, the motion more like a self-comforting embrace than a defensive stance.

Yùn Yì' gaze dropped to the ground, unable—or unwilling—to meet the Second Young Master's eyes.

For some reason, a flicker of guilt shadowed her features.

It was as if an invisible weight bore down on Yùn Yì, one that she couldn't shake, no matter how hard she tried.

Her lips trembled slightly, as if words hovered on the tip of her tongue, but they never came.

Whatever thoughts plagued Yùn Yì remained locked away.

On the other hand, Cai Xiu's face was a mask of indifference, her expression utterly devoid of the emotions.

She let out a soft sigh, one that carried a sense of exasperation.

Cai Xiu rubbed her eyes briefly, a gesture that spoke less of fatigue and more of irritation, as though she'd already spent too much energy on things she deemed trivial.

Her demeanor was detached, almost clinical, as if she had long since moved past the need for emotional investment in such affairs.

"Honestly," Cai Xiu muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible, "this is becoming tiresome."

Hearing these words hang in the air, Feng Shen watched as the two women stopped before him.

His sharp eyes roved over them, flickering between the subtle differences in their body language.

Feng Shen propped his chin on his hand, the gesture casual but his golden eyes glinting with the keen edge of curiosity.

"Well, well," he drawled. "To what do I owe the honor of such faces? Come to admire greatness up close?"

Silence…

Seconds later…

"Yùn Yì… She… She killed someone," Cai Xiu confessed, her voice strained with exhaustion.

She had spent what felt like hours trying to soothe the panicked girl, but her patience was wearing thin.

Handling mortals was never Cai Xiu's strong suit, and this complete breakdown in the face of violence had left her at a loss.

She ran her hand through her hair:

"I tried, really… but I don't know how to deal with this. She's utterly shattered, and I don't have the tools to help her. What am I supposed to say? What do you even say to someone who's never spilled blood?"

Cai Xiu shifted awkwardly:

"I tried to tell her it's not the end of the world. That sometimes, life forces your hand. But she just keeps… crying. I don't know what to do anymore."

Feng Shen remained silent, his gaze unblinking as he observed his personal servant, who was desperately trying to hold back tears.

Finally, he spoke, his voice smooth:

"Now, why would you be sad about something like this? It's an honor to take someone's life. After all, every life is 'precious,' isn't it? And by ending one, you've taken something precious. That's good, isn't it?"

"… I didn't mean to…" Yùn Yì stammered, her voice trembling as she recounted:

"She attacked me out of nowhere, and my Physique… it just activated on its own. Ice shot out and… and it killed her."

Yùn Yì's hands clenched into fists as she struggled to continue, her words spilling out in uneven gasps:

"Her entire hand froze, and she started freaking out… She… she cut it off, trying to stop it, but the ice… it got into her blood, and then…" Her voice broke, and she trailed off, unable to finish.

Tears welled in Yùn Yì's eyes as she stared at the ground, her mind replaying the horrifying scene.

She had never imagined that the beauty of the cultivation world could harbor such darkness.

What had once seemed like a realm of limitless wonder and elegance now revealed itself as something brutal, merciless, and utterly cold.

Yùn Yì shuddered, her breath hitching as she whispered, almost to herself, "It was like seeing another side of everything… no light, only darkness."

Feng Shen rolled his eyes. He felt impatient:

"Are you done mourning over something that doesn't concern you? The cultivation world has always been cruel. You just chose to see only its beauty until now."

Yùn Yì flinched at the Second Young Master's words, her tear-filled gaze snapping to his face.

Feng Shen's eyes narrowed slightly:

"This isn't some bedtime story where light always wins. Power comes at a price, and only the strong survive long enough to pay it. If you can't stomach that, you might as well return to the Mortal Realm."

"I—… I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be like this, but…" Yùn Yì paused, her eyes distant:

"Seeing that woman's face, filled with fear… her other hand reaching out to me for help, begging me to stop it… and I—I was too scared to do anything."

Yùn Yì knew the Second Young Master was right—his cold logic made sense.

But despite understanding his perspective, her heart still clung to something fragile and painfully human.

'A mortal heart,' Yùn Yì thought bitterly, as if it were a flaw she couldn't shake.

"You know," Feng Shen said, his voice quieter now but no less firm:

"You shouldn't be like this. Not because it's weak, but because the cultivation world doesn't care about your mortal heart."

Feng Shen stepped closer:

"Do you think I've never seen faces like that? Begging, desperate, clinging to life? It doesn't matter. Hesitation, pity, fear—none of it will save you or anyone else. If you freeze in moments like that again, it won't just be their blood on your hands. It'll be yours, too."

These words seemed to snap Yùn Yì out of her spiral.

She gulped, her breathing uneven at first, but gradually steadied as she took a series of deep breaths.

The sorrow that had shadowed Yùn Yì's face moments ago vanished, replaced by a cold, indifferent expression.

She straightened her posture. She gave a firm nod:

"I understand."

To be honest, it wasn't clear whether Yùn Yì had truly accepted the reality of what had happened or if she was simply burying her emotions for the sake of the Second Young Master.

Either way, the shift in her demeanor was undeniable—she had forced herself to move forward, no matter the cost.

Feng Shen's lips curled into a sharp grin, his teeth glinting as he watched his personal servant finally discard the weak, mortal pretense.

'Good.'

Feng Shen would not merely force his personal servant to obey his every word but would mold her into someone truly heartless:

"Keep your mortal heart if you must. But don't let it stop your hands. Learn to act. Or die regretting that you didn't."