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“There are only three months left until the annual assessment. This is your one chance to enter the inner sect. Miss it, and you’ll have to wait another year…”

“In our Yunyu Sect, beauty is the key to gaining entry…”

“But don’t get complacent just because you’re pretty. Do you really think you’re all that beautiful? Let me tell you, if you have nothing but beauty, no charm, and no understanding, even if you look like Su Xiaoyuan…”

Su Xiaoyuan was dozing off at her desk, half dreaming she was still in a university lecture hall. Suddenly hearing her name, she hurriedly wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth. “Present!”

Laughter like silver bells echoed around her.

Rubbing her eyes, she saw standing before her a fair-skinned, exquisitely beautiful young lady dressed in a light, traditional Chinese outfit.

Then she snapped back to reality. This wasn’t some elegant lady; it was Elder Qin, the teacher of the “Basic Theory of Yin-Yang Nourishment and Five Elements” class.

Suddenly, she remembered—she had been in a car accident and transmigrated a year ago, entering a novel titled “The Bodyguard Turned Out to Be Myself.” She had become an unnamed, minor eighteenth-tier character.

In the story, she appeared only once, labeled as “a reckless, self-disgracing female cultivator of the Hehuan Sect.”

Her sole scene involved sneaking into the heroine’s sect, foolishly trying to seduce the heroine’s beloved White Moonlight Sword Master. She dared to place a venomous curse on him but was cleaved in two by this ruthless, powerful cultivator.

Like many transmigrated women, Su Xiaoyuan’s mind was implanted with a mission system—complete the mission, and she could return to her world and extend her life.

There was only one mission: to win over the White Moonlight Sword Master who had split her in two.

Su Xiaoyuan thought, “Is it because I don’t want to get into Qingbei University?”

Honestly, getting into Lingyue Immortal Sect was far more difficult.

Who was Lingyue Immortal Sect?

He was a rare cultivation prodigy of a millennium. The North Star descended at his birth; he entered the Dao at just three and a half years old. The former sect leader of the world’s top sect personally sought him out, pleading to take him as a last disciple.

Before turning ten, he had formed his Nascent Soul; before twenty, he was the only cultivator in the realm to reach the Tribulation Stage. Many predicted he would ascend to godhood within a century.

Only Su Xiaoyuan knew that this genius would fall at twenty-one in the prime of his youth, becoming the heroine’s unattainable White Moonlight, adding flavor to the tragic love story between the heroine and the Demon Lord.

Lingyue Immortal Sect lived reclusively atop the Snow Peak of Taiyan Sect, rarely seen by even his own sect members.

Yet, he remained the ultimate goal of thousands of Hehuan Sect cultivators.

Of course, as the White Moonlight who captivated the heroine with a glance, maintaining presence in the main love line even after death, his beauty was unquestionable.

When Su Xiaoyuan received the mission, she nearly gave up immediately. But recalling how her parents nearly fainted in the emergency room, she decided to give it a shot.

The system knew the mission was tough and grudgingly granted her a beauty enhancement. It drained the power source and went dormant until now.

Now Su Xiaoyuan had icy smooth skin, delicate jade-like bones, soft and slender body, eyes like autumn water, a slender waist, and long legs. Even among the pale beauties of Hehuan Sect, she stood out strikingly.

Whether she could win over the Immortal Sect leader was unknown, but the first time she looked in the mirror, she nearly fell for herself.

What if, just what if? She was already here.

“Since you’re awake, let’s do a question,” Elder Qin said.

Su Xiaoyuan’s scalp tingled.

“Suppose a Hehuan Sect female cultivator with a congenital divine vessel body, pure Yin fate, Golden Core stage, single Water Spirit Root, and a male cultivator with a turtle as his true form, Golden Fire dual Spirit Roots, Golden Core stage, on the day of Lixia in the month of Sì in the Bingchen year, at the Jiao-Kang border, first using the fifth position of ‘Dong Xuanzi’—‘Silkworm Entanglement’—to combine for half a ke (about fifteen minutes), then the seventh method of ‘Su Nu Jing’—‘Rabbit Sucking Brush’—for another half ke, and finally whether the female absorbs from the male or vice versa, at most how many Yang or Yin Crystals can be gathered?”

To solve this question, one had to use astronomy, geography, Yin-Yang Five Elements theory, and even math!

Who would have thought that a liberal arts student, who never studied math in a socialist university, would have to do math problems after entering Hehuan Sect?

Before Su Xiaoyuan could finish hearing the question, dizziness overwhelmed her. Her mind went blank, and her eyes gradually cleared.

She only knew that this mysterious turtle cultivator was not very enduring—he would need to see a male doctor in the cultivation world.

Faced with Elder Qin’s interrogation, she could only widen her sparkling, watery apricot-shaped eyes.

Elder Qin shook her head in frustration. “Someone like you goes outside all confused, not even knowing if you’re absorbing from others or being absorbed! If you were let out, you’d be a gorgeous corpse within three days!”

It wasn’t an exaggeration. The world was dangerous. The Hehuan Sect, which built itself on harvesting spiritual energy, could be exploited in reverse by malicious people, almost forming an industrial chain.

Some small, unscrupulous sects didn’t care about their disciples’ survival, sending new recruits out after a few days’ training to boost performance.

Losing some cultivation strength was one thing, but encountering ruthless evil cultivators or rivals could result in being completely drained of crystal energy and death.

Therefore, established great sects like theirs protected their disciples zealously and feared tarnishing their reputation. No one could go out on missions without passing the annual assessment and becoming an inner sect disciple first.

Su Xiaoyuan had failed the assessment without question, ranking last just one month after transmigrating.

Now, only half a year remained before the critical plot point; the assessment in three months was her last chance.

She had to enter the inner sect or else not even leave the newbie village, let alone seduce Lingyue Immortal Sect.

Sighing, she picked up her dropped spiritual brush, wiped the drool from her notes with a handkerchief, and continued making a mind map.

During the session, Elder Qin called on several others. Some stammered and couldn’t answer, while others gave absurd replies.

The most ridiculous came from her close friend Ruan Mianmian: “I know this! The female cultivator, in a fit of anger, stewed that turtle cultivator. Although she didn’t get any crystal energy, she did nourish her kidneys.”

Elder Qin was so angry she nearly threw her fan. “Don’t say you took my class when you go out! This is truly the worst batch I’ve ever taught!”

She paused. “I’ll explain one last time. Listen carefully!”

Su Xiaoyuan perked up and took notes, but soon her eyelids waged a battle. University’s 8 a.m. classes were bad enough; here, it was even worse—6 a.m.! Before class, they had to practice cultivation and take oaths; each day started before five.

“If I don’t fall asleep, I’ll just close my eyes to rest,” she thought peacefully and closed them.

That rest lasted the entire class.

Before the pair-birds on the beam could sing the dismissal tune “Ode to Wind and Moon,” Su Xiaoyuan awoke divinely, remembering an important matter—it was Friday, and the cafeteria was serving stir-fried tanuki meat!

Tanuki was a rare, magical creature in the cultivation world, resembling a small pig, but its meat was a hundred times more fragrant.

Yunyu Sect was built on an island in the middle of a vast marsh, abundant in aquatic products but scarce in mountain delicacies. Tanuki meat was especially precious and always snatched up fast.

Before the pair-birds could utter a single note, Su Xiaoyuan shot out like an arrow—normally frail and panting after a few steps, she could only perform at her best when rushing for food.

Ruan Mianmian kept pace beside her.

They had barely taken a few steps when Elder Qin called out: “Su Xiaoyuan, come back! And you too, Ruan Mianmian!”

The two exchanged a glance as their faces fell—they were staying behind, and tanuki meat was out of reach.

“Do you know why I’m keeping you both behind?” Elder Qin tapped the desk with her fan, exasperated.

Ruan Mianmian replied boldly, “How would I know?”

Su Xiaoyuan had a vague idea and quietly tugged her friend’s sleeve.

“Hey, let go… Elder Qin, please tell us! We’re desperate to grab some of that tanuki meat,” Ruan Mianmian urged.

Elder Qin flapped her fan at her forehead. “All you think about is eating! No wonder you fail every subject!”

Ruan Mianmian stood firm and calm. Though petite and delicate with a sweet face, she was a Golden Core stage physical cultivator from a proper cultivation family.

Born into the Xie family of the Xuanwu clan, her real name was Xie Kaishan. Ruan Mianmian was her chosen stage name.

After her childhood fiancé was stolen away by a male cultivator from a pleasure sect, she ran away from home, hiding her identity and infiltrating Yunyu Sect.

She planned to learn the enemy’s skills to fight fire with fire, win back the scumbag, then ruthlessly discard him and crush his heart into mush.

Su Xiaoyuan couldn’t understand but respected the plan.

Elder Qin sighed, slightly out of breath from waving her fan, and gave up. “Appearance-wise, you two are the best among this batch of outer sect disciples. The elders had high hopes, but look at what you’ve become!”

Su Xiaoyuan bowed her head in shame. Coming from a teacher’s family, she was a diligent student who had never scored below average in over a decade of schooling. Now, she and her best friend were locked in a battle for last place.

Elder Qin said, “To enter the inner sect, you must score at least three A grades in the annual assessment, and B grades or above in other courses. The other courses might be lenient, but the practical classes are all formation exams.”

Formation exams were like the driving tests of cultivation—no passing, no entry. Even the sect leader couldn’t bend the rules.

Ruan Mianmian looked puzzled. “I’m pretty good at the practical classes.”

Elder Qin ground her teeth. “You only know one move, ‘Overbearing Assault.’ Who would willingly be subjected to that?”

Spiritual power flowed like water, usually from high to low. Elder Qin was right—Ruan Mianmian could only assault those she could beat. That wasn’t absorption; it was targeted poverty alleviation.

“In short,” Elder Qin said, “you must pass the practical classes with at least a B grade. Use the time left to practice more.”

Su Xiaoyuan frowned. “How do we practice…”

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but she lacked talent. As a peony-type, she couldn’t even get past the mental barrier.

“I’ve already requested special permission from the sect leader. Bring your puppets, and I’ll set up exam formations for you. Three months of practice should awaken even the dullest mind!”

Ruan Mianmian said, “But we don’t have puppets.”

Elder Qin rolled her eyes. “Then go buy some!”

Half an hour later, the two stood in a puppet specialty shop run by the Yan Shi Sect, staring at rows of life-sized puppets on shelves.

The shop owner rubbed his hands, smiling broadly. “Young fairies, what kind of puppets do you need? We have all sorts.”

Su Xiaoyuan blushed, voice barely audible. “Do you have any…”

The owner nodded knowingly. “You two must be from Yunyu Sect, right? Training puppets are over here. Our puppets are handmade in the inner sect of Yan Shi Sect—top quality, very different from the common ones outside.”

He led them to a shelf where the puppets were handsome young men and beautiful women, though a bit uncanny.

Su Xiaoyuan discreetly flipped a jade price tag hanging from a puppet’s neck and gasped, hardly believing her eyes.

Why weren’t they snatched up?

Ruan Mianmian surveyed the scene disdainfully. “Not as good-looking as my family’s steward. How much?”

The owner respectfully replied, “A mere twelve hundred premium spirit stones.”

Ruan Mianmian said, “Twenty.”

“Ha ha ha, young fairy, you must be joking,” the shop owner laughed heartily.

“She’s not joking. We each only have twenty spirit stones,” Su Xiaoyuan politely asked, “Excuse me, do you have any puppets for twenty?”

After double-checking, the owner finally believed they were truly poor cultivators. His face fell. “Twenty buys only old stock. No choice—you get whatever you draw.”

Su Xiaoyuan thought, “So it’s a blind box.”

The owner added, “No returns, even if it’s missing limbs.”

Ruan Mianmian waved her hand gallantly. “As long as the head and torso are intact, limbs don’t matter.”

“Alright then.” The owner led them to a dusty backroom like a warehouse, with a musty smell. No shelves, just human-shaped forms wrapped in black cloth piled haphazardly like a battlefield.

After paying, the owner yawned. “You can point, but don’t touch.”

Su Xiaoyuan, knowing she was unlucky, said to her friend, “You go first.”

Ruan Mianmian confidently rummaged through the pile. “I’m telling you, I have great luck…”

She pointed to a tall puppet. The owner cast a spell, and the puppet stood upright, removing its mask.

It wasn’t missing limbs or ugly, though it looked somewhat effeminate and too slender.

But for twenty spirit stones, what else did they expect?

Ruan Mianmian checked it out; all crucial parts were intact, and she grinned from ear to ear. “I like this one! It even looks a bit like Song Jinshu. Perfect!”

Song Jinshu was her childhood fiancé.

Su Xiaoyuan couldn’t see what was nice about resembling a scumbag, but her friend had always had strange logic.

The owner sulkily said, “Young fairy, your luck is incredible. This model would easily fetch two hundred at market. No idea how it ended up in the storage…”

Ruan Mianmian hoisted her treasure puppet onto her shoulder. “I got lucky; no take-backs!”

The owner shook his head, muttering about his loss.

Su Xiaoyuan, never lucky, envied her friend. She didn’t expect a rare find—just complete parts and a not-too-ugly face would do. Being a beauty fanatic, she couldn’t settle for ugliness.

She clasped her hands, eyes closed, silently praying, “Goddess of Wushan, Goddess of Baishui, please don’t let it be too ugly, please don’t be too ugly. If the goddesses manifest, I promise to…”

She paused, feeling her sincerity was lacking, and added in her heart, “I’ll study hard and improve every day…”

“Choose quickly,” the owner urged impatiently. “I have other business!”

Su Xiaoyuan, plagued by indecision, looked at one puppet, then another, unsure which to pick.

She closed her eyes, spun around a few times until dizzy, then pointed randomly.

Opening her eyes, she saw her finger aimed at a puppet standing against the wall.

The figure was tall and slender, not bulky, but strangely imposing from a distance.

Behind the black cloth, she felt like a frightened rabbit caught in the gaze of a wild beast, frozen in place.

The owner’s eyes widened, mouth opening slightly before returning to normal. “That one? Once chosen, no changing your mind.”

Su Xiaoyuan felt a foreboding sense of doom, but before she could say “wait,” the owner eagerly cast a spell.

The black cloth fell away, revealing broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs.

The puppet’s face was concealed by a rough mask, so she couldn’t tell its features, but the body proportions were extraordinary.

It took a few stiff, unfamiliar steps toward her.

It was too late!