Vangyy

---PLEASE SKIP CHAPTER 166, AS IT WAS ADDED TWICE---

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Li Hua's reign as the twenty-first century's deadliest assassin ended in fire and betrayal. Her own sister, Li Min, turned their elite force against her, leaving nothing but ashes where a legend once stood.

In the moment of her death, Li Hua's soul tore free from its earthly bonds, hurtling across the boundaries between worlds until it anchored itself in a new vessel in a realm of ancient martial arts and mystical cultivation. Through this impossible transition, her inner space remained intact—and with it, Little Firefly, her spirit companion.

Here, where qi flows like rivers and mountains bow to those who master their cultivation, Li Hua will forge herself anew. No longer content to be merely an assassin of mortal flesh, she sets her sights on ascending to immortality itself—a journey that will shake the very foundations of heaven.

DEDICATION
To those of us whose cultivation path always leads to immortals with questionable morals and perfect jaw lines.
May your daddy issues transcend the three realms and be rewarded with an ancient being who knows exactly what he's doing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
Content Warning: This story contains mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Updates: New chapters release daily.
Story Style: This is an epic fantasy with rich world-building and complex characters, woven together with a slow-burn romance subplot.
Disclaimer: While this story incorporates some historical facts, it is primarily a work of fiction presenting my unique interpretation of events.

This is the ultimate place to chat, speculate, and immerse yourself in the world of my story! -- https://discord.gg/rYQJWfSM

Re-birth: The Beginning after the End

<p>The cool night air carried no answers, only the weight of growing certainty that something had gone terribly wrong. Her brothers needed her—she could feel it in her bones, in the way something stirred restlessly within her heart. But where had Old Xiao taken them? And more importantly, how was she supposed to get to them?</p>

<p>The sound of shifting fabric drew her attention to Mo Xing, who lounged on an elegantly crafted stone bench like it was an imperial throne. His presence commanded attention even in repose, moonlight catching in his dark hair and tracing the sharp angles of his face. Those honey-brown eyes held power that seemed to draw in light itself, and his casual posture—calculated in its carelessness—spoke of centuries of practiced grace. A spark of mischievous interest danced in his gaze as he watched her.</p>

ONE MORE LOOK