Summary
On the day my spiritual roots were tested, the stone stele passed judgment on me in eight characters: This girl lacks virtue. Her future knows no bounds.
The sect master asked if I had an explanation.
I said, “Is it possible that’s a compliment?”
Later, when the entire sect tried to force me to shoulder a genius’s karmic debts, I finally understood: what the cultivation world lacked most was never virtue. It was signatures on the dotted line.