Since it had already reached the final hour of this day, $2hen the end of her life must surely come within this hour.

With only one hour left to live, even Piaomiao Hong—who had been prepared for this since birth—could not describe the emotions swirling in her heart.

Memories flashed through her mind like fleeting shadows.

Her father, her mother…

Her siblings within the clan…

And even Yi Feng, the man she had met after being kidnapped, who seemed to seek nothing but death.

Her thoughts drifted far, far away…

Had it not been for this curse, her life could have been so much more vibrant. She might have done all the things she had longed for but never had the chance to accomplish…

Hmm?

Just then, as she awaited death, Piaomiao Hong sensed something amiss.

Her beautiful eyes snapped open.

Because in her recollection, that final hour had already passed.

Time had moved into the next day.

"How…?"

"How could this be?"

Piaomiao Hong was so shocked she could hardly steady her breathing.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would survive this day.

"Could the calculations have been wrong?"

But no.

This was undeniably the day.

Her heart now raced with both exhilaration and unease.

The curse within her should have erupted by now, yet it remained dormant.

Desperate for answers, she channeled her energy, sending surges of power coursing through her meridians, circulating it cycle after cycle.

But after several cycles, her eyes widened in astonishment.

To her overwhelming joy, she discovered that the curse within her had vanished.

"Gone… It’s truly gone."

Piaomiao Hong checked again and again.

Each confirmation yielded the same result. Her voice trembled as tears of joy streamed down her face.

Words could not capture the storm of emotions inside her.

She had resigned herself to certain death, only for the curse to inexplicably disappear at the very last moment.

In the vast training square of Sword Valley, $2hough dawn had yet to break, $2ountless disciples were already practicing their sword forms with relentless dedication.

Yet their faces were etched with sorrow.

Piaomiao Hong held a revered position in Sword Valley. Despite her status, she had always treated even the non-core disciples with kindness, often guiding them in their swordplay.

Thus, $2er impending demise had cast a pall of grief over the entire valley.

They trained with desperate fervor, as if exhausting themselves would numb the pain.

But suddenly, every disciple in the square snapped their attention toward the Sword Burial Grounds.

Beneath the towering archway lay a path that stretched into the abyss—where countless swords and bones had been laid to rest…

Yet now, $2ootsteps echoed from within, crunching against the barren earth.

The unexpected sound put everyone on high alert. Guards at the archway and disciples alike gripped their swords, their eyes sharp with vigilance.

For since ancient times, this path had only ever been entered—never exited.

Footsteps emerging from it now were nothing short of unnatural.

The sound grew closer, and gradually, a faint silhouette took shape in the dim light.

Tall and graceful, $2he wore a snow-white gown, $2ike an immortal untouched by mortal dust, her beauty ethereal against the desolate backdrop.

Step by step, she walked forward, a sword in hand.

Finally, $2er face became clear.

"It’s the Young Mistress!"

"Heavens, the Young Mistress is walking out!"

"How is this possible? By the reckoning of time, she should have… yesterday…"

The figure emerging was none other than Piaomiao Hong.

The disciples of Sword Valley gaped as if they had seen a ghost, their voices filled with disbelief.

The commotion quickly drew the attention of the entire valley.

Piao Zheng, the current Valley Master, rushed over with a retinue of elders and disciples.

Within moments, thousands had gathered, their eyes wide with shock as they stared at Piaomiao Hong beneath the archway.

Piao Zheng’s body trembled as he scrutinized her. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice tentative.

"Hong’er… is it really you?"

Under the weight of their gazes, the woman in white nodded gently, her voice choked with emotion.

"Yes, Uncle Zheng. It’s me."

That single address—"Uncle Zheng"—made Piao Zheng’s eyes redden instantly.

He knew then, regardless of the reason, that this was his niece, Piaomiao Hong.

There could be no mistake.

Absolutely none.

"Hong’er, what happened?"

"How did you…?"

Piao Zheng darted forward, his voice laced with anxious hope, though he himself didn’t know what he was hoping for.

Yet against all odds, that inexplicable hope was answered.

"Uncle Zheng… I don’t know why, but the curse within me has vanished."

"I… I don’t have to die."

Tears of joy spilled from Piaomiao Hong’s eyes as she spoke.

Her words sent shockwaves through the crowd.

"What?"

"What did she say?"

"The Young Mistress’s curse is gone?"

Gasps of astonishment rippled through the gathered disciples.

Piao Zheng trembled even more violently, afraid he had misheard. He stepped closer, his voice grave.

"Hong’er… are you certain?"