Miriam Thornfield often felt that in this whole cultivation world, other than herself, not a single person was normal.

Like right now.

"Miriam Thornfield, when did you become this vicious?"

"It's just one Mirrasoul Herb, and you went this far to hurt your own sister? She almost got torn apart by a demon beast. Do you even understand that?"

Seeing the fury on the man's face, like he wanted nothing more than to kill her on the spot, Miriam felt speechless all over again. This whole transmigration thing was seriously ridiculous.

That was right. She was not from this world.

Before this, Miriam had just been an ordinary office worker. She had pulled a few too many late-night shifts, worked herself into the ground, and then died suddenly.

Then she opened her eyes and found herself dropped straight into the brainless all-adoring cultivation novel she had been reading before she died.

The only problem was, the one everyone adored was not her.

It was her sister.

And the role Miriam had landed in was the female side character with the exact same name as hers, the one who kept scheming against her "gentle, virtuous, perfect" elder sister again and again.

What was happening now was exactly one of those plot points.

The original Miriam, in order to snatch the Mirrasoul Herb, had set up her elder sister Yasmine Thornfield and nearly gotten her killed by a demon beast. Then the whole thing had been exposed.

"You wanted to enter Master Frostbourne's sect so badly, and for that you actually did something this insane?" the man said, his face full of disappointment. "Yasmine Thornfield is your own elder sister."

"Kieran Frost, please don't say that."

Beside him stood a woman in white, slim and fragile as a willow in the wind. She looked so weak she might fall at any moment, yet she was still speaking up for Miriam between soft coughs.

"The Mirrasoul Herb can clear the spirit platform. It's a rare spiritual herb. Younger Sister taking the herb first... that was the right thing to do."

This soft-featured, delicate woman was none other than the heroine of the novel.

Yasmine Thornfield.

Born to a prominent mortal family, she had one day been discovered to possess an ice spiritual root, and from then on the whole sect had practically held her in the palm of its hand.

Compared to her, Miriam Thornfield, with her mixed spiritual roots, was nothing worth mentioning.

No wonder she was the heroine.

A cannon-fodder female side character really had no way to survive.

Kieran Frost looked at Yasmine Thornfield with open pity. “It’s because you’re always too kind, Junior Sister. That’s why she keeps pushing her luck.”

After saying that, he lifted his eyes toward the peerlessly handsome man in green seated above.

“Master, Yasmine is the first disciple you accepted after leaving seclusion, and she is also our little junior sister. She was nearly killed in the secret realm. This matter absolutely cannot be let go lightly!”

Master Frostbourne slowly opened his eyes and looked toward Miriam Thornfield. “The Thornfield family once showed me kindness. That is why I agreed to take both daughters of the Thornfield family as disciples. This time, since you picked the Mirrasoul Herb, it counts as passing the test.”

“But your aptitude is poor, and your temperament is vicious. If you wish to enter under my sect, you must first pass the Heart-Questioning Formation.”

He spoke with the air of someone far above everyone else.

Like he was handing out mercy.

And the Heart-Questioning Formation he spoke of was the greatest formation in the Celestsoar Sect, used specifically to sever inner demons.

Not to mention Miriam Thornfield, who was only at Qi Refining now—even Kieran Frost, the senior disciple, would struggle to make it through that formation.

Miriam Thornfield was not stupid enough to break into it.

“My aptitude is poor, sure. But you’re not the Heart-Questioning Formation, so how can you decide my temperament is evil just like that?”

“Miriam Thornfield, how dare you speak so rudely to Master Frostbourne!” Kieran Frost snapped, his brows turning cold.

“You truly refuse to repent.” Master Frostbourne frowned, displeasure clear on his face, and a long whip appeared in his hand.

The whip cracked through the air. Miriam Thornfield, who had been standing there a moment ago, was sent flying on the spot. She slammed hard to the side, and blood quickly seeped through her back.

The two below the hall were both startled.

When Kieran Frost saw Miriam Thornfield in such a miserable state, he felt a flicker of reluctance because of their childhood bond. But the next instant, when he saw that Yasmine Thornfield could barely even stand steady, his expression turned cold again.

This was what Miriam Thornfield deserved.

“You plotted against your own elder sister. I already showed leniency for the Thornfield family’s sake, yet you still have no regard for rank or respect.”

Master Frostbourne stepped down from the platform one step at a time. “Then I shall act in place of your elders and teach you properly!”

Master Frostbourne oversaw all punishment within the sect, so yes, he did have the authority to discipline his disciples.

Another lash came down.

Miriam Thornfield’s skin split open under the tearing force of spiritual power.

"Do you admit your wrong or not?" Master Frostbourne’s icy voice dropped from above her head.

Miriam really wanted to curse him out.

Wrong, wrong, wrong my ass. Wrong about what?

After the third whip, Master Frostbourne finally stopped.

If he kept going, someone was going to die.

"Miriam, just admit fault," Yasmine Thornfield said softly, her voice gentle as ever. "Master may seem cold, but his heart is not cruel. He would never truly force you into the Heart-Questioning Array. Why be so stubborn?"

She had thought Miriam would give in.

Instead, Miriam said, "How am I being stubborn? Fighting over a spirit herb is supposed to come down to whoever has the skill to take it."

"Besides, Yasmine is more gifted than I am, and her spiritual power is stronger too. You all know that. You picked her over me, and even that demon beast picked her over me. How is that my fault?"

The original Miriam had only wanted the herb so she could earn her way into Master Frostbourne’s line.

She had almost pulled it off too, but then Yasmine suddenly barged in and woke the drowsing demon beast. The beast naturally chose the one with stronger spiritual power for its meal.

And somehow, in the end, that became the original Miriam’s sin.

Honestly, she really was cannon fodder through and through.

Seeing that Miriam still spoke with such confidence even after taking three lashes, Master Frostbourne was utterly disappointed in her.

"I cannot correct you. Pack your things and get out. Return to the Thornfield estate."

Miriam showed almost no reaction.

Or rather, this was exactly what she wanted.

This idiotic sect? She was better off leaving.

After Master Frostbourne left, Miriam Thornfield pushed herself up right away. Limping on one leg, she went to pack her things.

She hardly had anything to pack anyway.

The one Celestsoar Sect had truly wanted was Yasmine Thornfield. Miriam had only been dragged along to make up the numbers. She had not even formally taken a master, and she had always lived with the outer sect disciples.

While she packed, the other disciples laughed at her without holding back.

"A mixed spiritual root, and she still dreamed of entering Master Frostbourne’s line?" A male disciple slicing a cucumber sneered, "Yasmine Thornfield is the legitimate daughter, and she has an ice spiritual root. What about her? Back in the mortal world, she was nothing more than a concubine-born girl. Now that she’s at an immortal sect, she really thinks she can rise to the top?"

The room burst into laughter.

Miriam’s expression did not change. She walked straight over, snatched the cucumber he had just cut, and bit into it with a loud crunch.

"Thanks," she said, her cheeks puffed out as she chewed.

The male disciple froze on the spot, dumbstruck.

Had Miriam Thornfield gone mad?

Miriam hummed a little tune as she finished bundling up her things.

The wound on her back split open again. She sucked in a breath, then suddenly remembered that the Mirrasoul Herb could also heal injuries.

Perfect. She could use it now.

But before she could, trouble arrived.

Kieran Frost, whom she had only just seen not long ago, came back in the blink of an eye with his sword at his side. He stopped in front of Miriam, held out his hand, and said, "Hand over the Mirrasoul Herb."

Miriam looked at him with pure concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

Was there something seriously wrong with him? He came up asking for things the second he opened his mouth, and he was not even embarrassed.

Kieran frowned. Still restraining his temper, he said, "The Mirrasoul Herb belongs to Celestsoar Sect. You cannot take it with you. Master has just ordered me to come collect it."

Miriam looked at the sword in his hand, then at the disciples around them who had already backed away as if avoiding disaster. Then she laughed for real.

"I picked the Mirrasoul Herb myself. Since when did it become Celestsoar Sect’s property?"

She had risked her life to pluck that herb, and now they wanted her to hand it over just like that. Even a saint would not be that patient, much less Miriam Thornfield.

Kieran Frost’s brows knotted again, his face full of plain disappointment. “Miriam Thornfield, you truly disappoint me. When we were children, you were not like this.”

Looking at the man before her, Miriam suddenly felt a sharp, bitter ache rise in her chest.

That was the original owner’s emotion.

When they were young, Kieran Frost and the original Miriam had once been very close. But somewhere along the way, for reasons no one could clearly name, his feelings had turned into disgust, and the two of them had only grown farther and farther apart.

Miriam pressed that strange wave of feeling down, then flipped her hand and took out a spirit herb. It had three leaves, and its stem shone silver-white.

It was the Mirrasoul Herb.

The tightness between his brows eased a little at once. He was already thinking that he could report this to Master Frostbourne afterward and ask him to give the Mirrasoul Herb to Yasmine Thornfield, so her injuries could heal faster.

At least Miriam still had some sense left. At least she knew how to make up for what she had done.

But before he could even say a word, he saw Miriam put the Mirrasoul Herb straight into her mouth and swallow it.