Why? She stared in shock at the translucent demon. Why was it right in front of her, and yet she couldn’t sense any demonic energy from it?
“I haven't seen a demon in a long time,” said the person on the bed in a low voice. “Don't kill her—she's quite interesting.”
Tan Yin couldn’t speak. The heavy curtains around the bed were pulled back slightly by invisible hands, as if the person on the bed was communicating with the demon without words. After a long pause, the curtains fell back, and the ethereal voice spoke again, “I understand now. Let me help you.”
The demon let out a silent roar as its massive body was lifted by unseen hands. Then, more hands began to tear at its misty form, pulling chunks of translucent vapor from its body, which turned pure white before being returned to its core.
Tan Yin watched in stunned silence. In the span of a few minutes, the amorphous demon was reshaped into a humanoid form by the invisible hands. It writhed in pain, trembling as it collapsed to the floor.
"Go," the voice commanded softly. "I don't know if we’ll meet again."
The demon, now resembling a human, rose and seemed to bow to the person on the bed. Although it was still a translucent, misty figure, it had taken on a human shape. As it turned to leave, it seemed to glance at Tan Yin before drifting out the wooden window.
“Wait!” she called out, taking two steps forward, but an invisible hand tugged at her, nearly causing her to stumble.
“You…” Tan Yin stared at the figure on the bed in horror. “You helped it take human form, and now you let it go...”
“Are you angry?” the voice asked calmly.
Tan Yin took a few deep breaths. “Who are you?”
The curtains were drawn back again, and a large, snow-white cat lazily leaped from the bed. Its emerald eyes glinted as it gazed at her, as if it could speak. It strolled slowly to the pond, playfully batting at the koi fish swimming in the water.
“You haven’t passed the trial of humanity yet. You’re not a true goddess, just a godling. That’s why you can’t see my true form.”
A pale, slender hand emerged from the bed’s curtains, beckoning her closer.
“Thousands of years have passed, and now both gods and demons are dear to me. Come closer.”
Tan Yin cautiously approached the bed, and suddenly, the curtains were pulled up by invisible hands, the jade hooks securing them without a sound. The figure on the bed was a small, fragile girl, who looked no more than eleven or twelve years old. Her thick, silky hair was spread across the light purple bedding. She was dressed in a simple white gown, her frail body seeming like it could shatter at any moment.
Yet none of this shocked Tan Yin more than the three iron collars around the girl’s neck and ankles. Her face went pale at the sight—she recognized them. Those were Zhu Mo Circles—artifacts she had personally crafted. During the war between gods and demons, they were used to suppress the power of demons, preventing them from resisting so they could be captured alive by the gods.
“You recognize them,” the girl said, tilting her head slightly to reveal a delicate jawline. Her lips were pale blue, devoid of color. “You are the world’s most skilled artisan. These are your creations.”
Tan Yin nodded silently, “Yes... I made them.”
The girl smiled faintly. “Yet you’re still just a young goddess who hasn’t passed the trial of humanity.”
She had mentioned this “trial of humanity” several times now. Tan Yin hesitated but didn’t ask further. Everything happening here was too strange, beyond her understanding. She didn’t dare act rashly.
“I’ll tell you what the trial of humanity is, in exchange for something,” the girl said, moving her legs slightly. The chains clinked coldly as they shifted. Her legs were so thin and frail they seemed like they would break at the slightest touch. “In exchange, you must remove the Zhu Mo Circles.”
Tan Yin’s expression didn’t change. She refused firmly, “I won’t do that. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
Although she couldn’t discern the girl’s true identity, the fact that the Zhu Mo Circles were restraining her was enough to prove she was dangerous. She couldn’t allow such a threat to go free.
The girl spoke softly, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll destroy your soul?”
Suddenly, Tan Yin felt invisible ropes tighten around her, squeezing her with such force that her spiritual body began to ache intensely, as though it could shatter at any moment. She clenched her teeth, shut her eyes, and endured the pain without saying a word or begging for mercy.
After what felt like an eternity, the pressure abruptly lifted. The girl’s soft, ethereal voice echoed again, “What is your name?”
Struggling to suppress the pain wracking her spirit, Tan Yin whispered, “...Ji Tan Yin.”
“Tan Yin,” the girl repeated, her long hair lifted by unseen hands and gently braided into a bun. “To become a primordial god, one must pass three trials: heaven, earth, and humanity. The trial of heaven was when you, as a mortal, created an artifact that defied the heavens, leading to your sickness and the destruction of your family. The trial of earth was when your soul wandered the mortal world for hundreds of years, unable to find peace.”
Tan Yin stood frozen in shock. Since becoming a goddess, no one had ever told her such things. She wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not.
“You were granted divine status, but you cannot bestow it upon others. This is because you have not passed the trial of humanity.”
Tan Yin couldn’t help but interrupt, “Do all gods face these three trials?”
The girl nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“But... no god has ever mentioned this to me…”
“That’s because the trials happen without you realizing it. If you’re aware of them, they don’t count.”
Tan Yin found the whole concept bewildering, but she knew the girl wasn’t entirely wrong. Gods and goddesses granted divine titles were vastly different from primordial gods. The former couldn’t bestow divinity on others. Was that because they hadn’t passed the trial of humanity?
“You... who are you? How do you know so much?” Tan Yin stammered, staring at the girl.
The girl lowered her head as the curtains closed swiftly, cutting off Tan Yin’s view.
“Go now. Today, seeing both a god and a demon has been a rare delight. When you pass the trial of humanity, you’ll know who I am. For now, you can call me the Princess of the Lake.”
Tan Yin wanted to ask more, but before she could, a powerful force pushed her away. Just as when she had been pulled into this place, she was helpless to resist. Wind howled in her ears like wailing spirits, and in the blink of an eye, she felt her spirit slammed back into her body, causing a painful jolt. She let out a faint groan, and then a warm hand grasped hers tightly.
“You’re awake?!” Yuan Zhong’s pale, anxious face came into view, his hand trembling slightly as he held hers.
Tan Yin stared at him in bewilderment, then looked down at herself—she was back in her mortal body.
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