Xie Jiuniang's idea to temper her physical body with the Heavenly Tribulation had failed.
The reason was that the thunder above was unusually mild, as if it was playing a joke on her. Tiny bolts the size of strands of hair struck down at her haphazardly, always slightly off-target.
After the ninth strike, it ceased.
Xie Jiuniang gazed into the sky with a discerning look and silently said, "Was my master's death related to you in any way?"
Crack!
A bolt of Heavenly Tribulation, as though annoyed, struck directly above her head.
It did not hurt Xie Jiuniang, merely blew her hair into a frizzy mess. The lightning coursed through her body, numbingly tingly, somewhat painful but not unbearably so, well within her tolerance.
Yet the death of Chaoyan had left a knot in Xie Jiuniang's heart.
A severe knot, where suppressed hatred was just that—suppressed, not vanished.
