In the eyes of the celestial realm, Shen Fuxin is the epitome of a useless immortal second-generation.

Her magic is mediocre, her background unremarkable, her looks average—only her character is notoriously vile and unprincipled.

Yet, as if heaven had turned a blind eye, this very immortal, who hadn’t drawn her sword in three hundred years, somehow caught the eye of Zhao Lanying, the Rainbow Capital Immortal, the most promising candidate of this generation to ascend as a true god. Against all odds, she fulfilled her lifelong wish, donning bridal robes to become a phoenix perched on a branch.

Shen Fuxin thinks they’re all correct except for one thing.

It wasn’t her desperately begging Zhao Lanying to form a bond with her; it was Zhao Lanying who took the initiative.

Later, on their wedding night, amid the bliss of newlyweds, the one who lifted her veil was as noble and aloof as she remembered, like a deity from the distant mountains.

With a mocking glint in her eyes, she remarked, “Judging by your aptitude, you truly are as they say, a fine cauldron.”

Opening her eyes once more, Shen Fuxin found herself back three months before her bond with the immortal was to be formed. This time, she rebelled.

She burned the familiar bond contract in the palm of her hand. Faced with renewed mockery and harsh criticism, Shen Fuxin publicly broke her sword, only to unexpectedly uncover the truth behind her inability to draw it—

The Dan Cauldron, unlit by any immortal in thirty thousand years, was ignited by her hand alone, flames soaring to the heavens, blazing across the plains!

The life bound sword that hadn’t been drawn in three hundred years? Toss it into the cauldron for refinement.

The adoptive father who sold out his daughter for glory, kind-faced but cruel-hearted? Cast him into the cycle of beasts and refine him again.

The beautiful charlatan picked up along the way? Shen Fuxin sized her up for a moment.

This one’s useful, keep her around as a little accessory.

The amnesiac charlatan, named Ji Ting, was delicate and clingy, like an infuriating piece of sticky candy, capable of drawing hatred just by passing by.

Confronted with Shen Fuxin’s aloof and cold-faced ex-wife, she feigned fragility: “Little Fu, your master is glaring at me, it’s terrifying.”

Faced with the secretly covetous senior sister of the crown prince, she clasped her chest in a delicate pose: “Little Fu, is this your senior sister? Keep her away, she’s exactly as you described.”

In unseen corners, Ji Ting turned to face Shen Fuxin’s troublesome master and senior sister, her sword intent sharp as a blade, capable of piercing the nine heavens and slaying the golden phoenix.

The delicate, beautiful charlatan occasionally lost herself in thought. Amid the intricate spiritual energies of the three realms, a few strands seemed to resemble the incense offerings that had burned day and night beside the statue of the War God a hundred thousand years ago.

Much later.

Faced with the gods of the divine realm who accused her of sheltering the criminal War God and bearing down upon them, Shen Fuxin curled her lips and glanced at the troublesome figure she’d picked up: “Care to give me an explanation?”

The fake charlatan, now the true War God with her memories restored, smiled with curved eyes and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her: “Sorry about that… With ready-made materials right here, Little Fu, want to refine something big together?”

One-Sentence Summary: Later, I turned the entire celestial realm into my personal crematorium.

Theme: Love yourself before loving others.