Yu Fusheng was indeed formidable.
Even Daoist Hedao, Chen Xuanyi, found himself lost in the peach blossom rain, forgetting the passage of time.
Those peach blossoms from that year... Ah.
It seemed Daoist Chen's life had been truly dull, with this fleeting moment of beauty standing as the most vivid memory in his mind.
Afterward, Chen Xuanyi bid farewell to the blindfolded youth, sheathed his sword, and left the city, his body battered and bruised.
Luo Luo followed him at a distance—neither too close nor too far.
Had Chen Xuanyi been at his peak, he would never have been so easily ensnared by illusions. But having taken over Li Zhaoye's body, he must have suffered severe spiritual depletion, paying a hidden price.
"If I kill you, will Li Zhaoye return?"
Luo Luo, like a vengeful ghost, whispered the question to his retreating back.
His back, of course, gave no answer. He staggered forward, searching for a safe place to recover.
Luo Luo surveyed the barren, spirit-deprived land.
Long, long after this day, Li Zhaoye would also come here—the cross-shaped scar on his left cheek was left behind in Dongyu.
Why Dongyu? Because it was here that Daoist Chen Xuanyi once attained enlightenment in a single night, advancing to the Nascent Soul stage while comprehending his own path of slaughter—a legendary feat. Li Zhaoye had come hoping to bask in the lingering fortune.
Instead, he found only misfortune.
Luo Luo followed in silence.
The blindfolded youth in Guangling City, Chen Xuanyi's arrogance—she forced herself not to dwell on them.
She had only one goal now—to push Chen Xuanyi to the Deity Transformation stage and reveal his true form.
It wouldn’t be difficult.
Luo Luo raised her hand, pausing briefly before summoning a wisp of golden spiritual energy so dense it seemed tangible. With a flick of her wrist, the energy condensed into a fist-sized supreme-grade spirit stone, radiating a gaudy, nouveau riche brilliance.
Knowing this was a dream meant she could control it—whatever she desired, she could manifest.
An incense stick’s time later.
Chen Xuanyi collapsed beneath an ancient tree, his chest heaving like a broken bellows. Without spiritual energy, he was spent.
Luo Luo appeared just when he needed her most.
Her face half-veiled by a light gauze, she stood before him, suppressing her murderous intent as she coldly asked, "You’ve been afflicted with the love toxin?"
He lifted his gaze with difficulty, meeting her eyes—and his body trembled uncontrollably.
Yu Fusheng had ignited an unbearable desire for her within him.
Luo Luo remained expressionless. "What a coincidence. So have I."
Chen Xuanyi’s eyes widened slightly.
Without another word, Luo Luo dumped a pile of golden supreme-grade spirit stones onto him. "Reach Deity Transformation, and the toxin will be neutralized. Cultivate. Now."
Then she turned and left, sparing no further words.
Naturally, Chen Xuanyi wouldn’t blindly trust a mysterious woman, but he soon realized these spirit stones were unparalleled treasures—each one contained spiritual energy rivaling an entire spirit vein!
Stunned, he felt as though he were dreaming.
Luo Luo: Obviously. It is a dream.
Chen Xuanyi was decisive.
Recognizing this as an opportunity, he abandoned thoughts of returning to his sect and instead sought a secluded cave in the nearby mountains to cultivate.
Having once been a Daoist Hedao, retreading the path felt effortless.
Luo Luo didn’t care about solid foundations—she only needed to force his growth.
When Chen Xuanyi exhausted the last spirit stone, Luo Luo reappeared, showering him with even more.
"Fellow Daoist, a moment." Suppressing the burning toxin, he bowed respectfully. "Forgive my boldness, but you seem like a transcendent expert. How is it that we both fell victim to this poison?"
His tone was neither servile nor overbearing.
Luo Luo found him utterly detestable. "You don’t need to know."
She glanced at the golden spirit stones.
Before he could speak, she sneered, "Don’t pretend to refuse my gifts. Use them or don’t. If you won’t, I’ll just kill you—the toxin will vanish either way."
With that, she left, unwilling to waste another breath on him.
Chen Xuanyi stood speechless for a moment before obediently returning to cultivation, making full use of the resources.
:)
The next time they met, he dropped all pretenses.
"Fellow Daoist, your generosity moves me. If there’s anything you need, I am at your service." He coughed awkwardly, as if realizing his words could be misconstrued. "I mean no offense—only that your kindness is beyond repayment."
Luo Luo, too, burned with the toxin, but her heart remained as cold as a butcher’s blade honed over twenty years. "Stop wasting time. Cultivate."
Chen Xuanyi rubbed his temples, amused despite himself.
What fortune had brought him this mysterious, powerful, and aloof beauty? (Her face was veiled, so her beauty was questionable—but those eyes were undoubtedly breathtaking.)
The toxin inflamed his body, but she—and the boundless resources she represented—ignited his ambition.
Luo Luo soon noticed his little games.
Carving her silhouette into cave walls. Arranging spent spirit stones into flowers. Smiling at her with shy charm whenever she appeared.
It made her want to gut fish for another decade.
She blocked his cave entrance with golden spirit stones.
No more meetings until he reached Deity Transformation.
Under the relentless flood of spiritual energy, Chen Xuanyi’s cultivation soared as if in a dream. In what felt like a blink, the day of his breakthrough arrived.
He bathed beneath a waterfall, seated himself with his sword across his knees, and waited for her.
From afar, he cut a striking figure—tall, poised, undeniably handsome.
Luo Luo approached, her expression icy.
"Fellow Daoist." Fighting the toxin’s fever, he smiled gently. "I am about to attempt Deity Transformation. Once the poison is gone... will you leave? Might I at least know your name? If fate permits, perhaps in the future—"
Luo Luo cut him off. "You’ll know. You’ll never forget it."
Chen Xuanyi’s eyes flickered with suppressed delight. "Then—"
What divine providence!
Luo Luo tilted her chin. "Break through."
Chen Xuanyi: "..."
Steadying his breath, he ignored the maddening allure she exuded and began his ascent.
To his astonishment, there were no barriers.
It was effortless—like retracing a path he’d walked countless times before.
A sense of unease grew, but before he could dwell on it, a small hand pressed against his abdomen.
The ice-cold beauty whispered in his ear, "Keep going."
"Boom—"
His sanity nearly shattered. His body convulsed as spiritual energy and carnal fire surged in tandem, propelling him to the peak of power—and pleasure.
Deity Transformation.
Success.
And in that instant—the moment of a cultivator’s greatest vulnerability—Luo Luo’s mask of indifference fell away, revealing pitch-black, blazing murderous intent.
Before he could gasp, her delicate hand twisted.
The vast spiritual energy within him reversed violently.
Amidst the agony of his meridians tearing apart, her fingers pierced his flesh, crushing his newly formed dantian before it could fully integrate.
His pupils trembled violently: "You... you..."
Luo Luo stared at him as the light veil on her face slowly fell away.
She crushed his internal organs one by one, speaking to him with eerie calm.
"Did you really think you were the chosen one, the protagonist of some story?"
"That just because a woman helped you in your darkest hour, giving you this and that, she must have feelings for you?"
"How arrogant you are, Daoist Xuanyi."
"What a dreamer."
A look of realization flashed in his eyes before he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Thud!
At the foot of the Reflection Cliff, two pairs of eyes snapped open simultaneously.
The sweet fragrance of Yu Fusheng still lingered in the air, yet the two who should have been lost in a dream of tender intimacy now wore starkly different expressions—one cold and detached, the other with blood trickling from his lips, eyes burning with hatred.
Luo Luo turned her head toward Master Qingxu, who stood by the mirrored wall.
"Master," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Master Qingxu arched a brow, grinning mischievously. "Done so soon?"
Luo Luo stared at his slender, beautiful eyes, feeling as though her lips were glued together. It took great effort to force them apart. "Master... did you see his 'true self'?"
The moment Chen Xuanyi ascended to divinity, his true form would manifest, and Li Zhaoye’s face would inevitably change.
Chen Xuanyi—Daoist Xuanyi, her master’s own master.
If he was the one who had possessed Li Zhaoye, then who was his accomplice?
Her heart seemed to stop mid-beat, suspended in the air as she waited for Master Qingxu’s answer.
The moment stretched, unbearably long yet fleeting.
"Oh, I saw it," Master Qingxu replied cheerfully. "Well, wouldn’t you know—it was just Li Zhaoye himself."
Thump—crash.
Luo Luo felt something shatter inside her.
With even greater effort, she forced her lips to move again, her gaze shifting. "The mirrored wall recorded it. Let me see."
Master Qingxu waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, this master accidentally blocked the view. Nothing was captured. But it doesn’t matter—his face never changed. The result’s the same."
Luo Luo staggered to her feet, step by step, until she stood before him.
He watched her with an amused smile.
When she was close enough, she raised a hand, reaching slowly toward his face.
Master Qingxu didn’t flinch. If anything, the amusement in his eyes deepened.
Just then, an untimely cough interrupted them. "Li Zhaoye" struggled upright, his gaze murderous—as if he wanted to kill her, or perhaps devour her whole. "I will make you—"
Master Qingxu and Luo Luo turned their heads in unison. "Shut up."
"Li Zhaoye": "..."
The sheer audacity!
Luo Luo lifted her hand, covering her master’s face—his brows, his eyes, the bridge of his nose.
Then she began to laugh, her body shaking.
Of course. Now she understood. The delicate lips and chin of the blindfolded youth had always seemed faintly familiar. It was him. It was her master all along.
"Master," she pleaded, "say it again. Tell me he isn’t Li Zhaoye. You’ll help me expose him, won’t you?"
The lips beneath her palm curved slightly, just like when he stood atop a rain of peach blossoms, looking down upon the mortal world.
"He is Li Zhaoye," he said softly. "And he always will be."
His voice was gentle, his words neither truth nor lie.
Luo Luo felt as though she were drowning, her chest constricting, unable to draw breath no matter how hard she tried.
"There were so many clues... but I never doubted you. Not once." Her voice was ragged, like a dying gasp. "How could I ever doubt my master? Even when I learned in the dream that Chen Xuanyi had possessed Li Zhaoye, I never suspected you were the accomplice."
Even though the signs had been there all along—
After that brutal battle on the shore, how could the perpetrator leave no trace?
Oh, but he had. He’d personally torn the earth apart, upturning everything within a hundred miles. Of course his presence was everywhere.
Luo Luo let out a broken laugh.
And then there was the Cold-Resistance Pill.
As the Sect Leader had once said, a cultivator of Master Qingxu’s level could detect even the faintest whisper of disturbance.
How could he not have known "Li Zhaoye" had swapped the pill for a Heat-Dispelling one?
Luo Luo had told herself it was because her master had never suspected Li Zhaoye.
She laughed harder, bending slightly at the waist.
In the Nether Realm, the cloaked figure should have killed her to tie up loose ends. But he’d spared her, saying, "No one would believe her anyway."
And wasn’t that the truth? Without her master, no one would ever believe her.
Her laughter grew louder, more hysterical.
"Master," she asked, "do your eyes not hurt anymore?"
She’d heard the brothel patrons say the white silk covering the young courtesan’s eyes was enchanted, fused into his sockets.
Master Qingxu smiled. "Not after reaching divinity. The flesh becomes sacred—as I once taught you."
"That’s good," Luo Luo nodded.
"How caring." The lips beneath her palm spoke softly. "Yet you dare not ask how he was at the end, hmm?"
For the first time, Luo Luo realized a heart could truly tremble inside one’s chest.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
Li Zhaoye. Li Zhaoye.
If the truth alone pained her this deeply, what had he endured? To have his soul shattered by someone like a father, all so another could steal his body.
The smiling lips continued, "That boy loved a good fight. No one had ever pushed him that far before. Breaking bones to repay kindness—I’d say he died content."
Luo Luo’s voice shook. "Li Zhaoye was unyielding."
"Indeed," Master Qingxu mused. "Defiant to the last. Not a single cry of pain."
"He was incredible."
"He really was."
A silence fell.
"Master," Luo Luo asked, "after we parted at Dongyu, why did you later join Chen Xuanyi’s sect?"
He chuckled. "That’s a long story. I’ll tell you another day."
Luo Luo laughed bitterly. "Will I even have another day?"
With everything laid bare, why hadn’t he killed her yet?
"Of course you will," he said, his smile brimming with confidence. "Though after today, even I can’t protect you. Drugging him didn’t win Li Zhaoye back—it’s time to sever ties. Break the Heartbound Vow, then confine yourself to Mirror Twin Peak. Never leave again."
Her voice was nearly gone. "...Why?"
After years as master and disciple, he knew exactly what she meant.
His lips curled into a smile—not the usual playful grin, but one laced with arrogance and pity.
"Imagine this," he began. "I raised a pheasant, planning to slaughter it for the New Year. One day, the pheasant wandered into the woods and returned with a little chick—bright-feathered, full of life. They lived together, bickering and playing. I enjoyed watching them. But when the New Year came, did that mean I wouldn’t kill the pheasant?"
Luo Luo shook her head weakly.
"Then you might ask," he continued, "why not kill the chick too? Why bother? I’d just bring home another pheasant. Watching the chick grow confused, suspicious, wondering if this new pheasant was the original... wouldn’t that be amusing?"
The light of dusk slanted westward.
"Little chick," he smiled at her, "I’ve grown fond of you over the years. Live well."
Another sunset.
This time, Luo Luo didn’t even have the strength to "foolishly" scream and lunge at him in revenge.
Her soul seemed to detach, leaving behind an empty shell to be manipulated at will.
She’d never feared even a Daoist Hedao—yet it was him.
"Master," Luo Luo whispered with her last ounce of strength, "you’re wrong about one thing."
"Oh?"
Her petty, final act of revenge seemed so laughable, yet she still spat out the words: "A capon is a castrated rooster. Li Zhaoye isn’t the capon—he is."
She pointed at the fake Li Zhaoye. "He’s the real eunuch! Even with Yu Fusheng, he can’t get it up!"
She burst into laughter, gasping for breath between fits of hysteria.
She no longer cared what they would do to her. Her heart had already plunged into eternal night.
Master Qingxu wasn’t angered.
He merely chuckled and turned to Chen Xuanyi. "Ah, how could you let yourself be pecked by a little pheasant again? After last time—getting stabbed in the kidney—you still haven’t learned. People would die laughing if this got out. Truly, the older you get, the more you regress! That damned Daoist nun will be here soon. Once we deal with her, I’ll have to stabilize your Dao heart again."
Luo Luo understood. "Gu Meng was let go on purpose by Master."
So that was it. No wonder Gu Meng, a mere mortal, had managed to escape from Liuguang Pavilion to report the incident when she stabbed Chen Xuanyi.
Gu Meng was nowhere to be found beneath the Cliff of Reflection either.
Master Qingxu nodded indifferently. "You slipped Li Zhaoye an aphrodisiac. Someone had to go warn him—unless you actually wanted to sleep with him? Though, judging by now, Li Zhaoye doesn’t seem up to the task anyway!"
Luo Luo asked, "Aren’t you afraid I’ll report this to the Sect Leader?"
Master Qingxu looked at her with pity.
"No one would believe me," Luo Luo realized. "The scorned fiancée, driven mad by love and resentment. A woman so desperate, so unwilling to let go, that she’d resort to any underhanded trick to have Li Zhaoye."
She smiled faintly, as if discussing someone else’s affairs.
Master Qingxu sighed. "This time, no matter what, I’ll protect you. You won’t leave Mirror Twin Peak—not even half a step."
Chen Xuanyi, who had been hunched over spitting blood, let out a sinister chuckle. "I really can’t bring myself to kill you now. Your ‘good days’... are far from over."
Luo Luo’s chin jerked painfully as Chen Xuanyi pinched it between two fingers.
Leaning in with Li Zhaoye’s face, his breath still carried the scent of Yu Fusheng. Their gazes locked, and the illusions of love and hatred from the dream surged in her heart.
His eyes turned icy yet feverishly dark.
"Hey, hey! What the hell are you doing?!" Master Qingxu hastily pulled them apart. "That damned Daoist nun is almost here! You really want to put on a live show here?!"
Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.
Master Lingxue’s expression was even uglier than expected.
Surprisingly, she hadn’t come alone with the Disciplinary Hall enforcers—another group accompanied her: courtly guests with high buns and wide sleeves.
Two Saintess Elders of the Divine Palace had personally arrived at the Tai Xuan Sect, escorting a grand palanquin carried by sixteen bearers.
Red curtains draped low, golden bells tinkling softly.
Master Lingxue’s face was thunderous, her glare sharp enough to kill the scoundrel Qingxu from afar.
That tyrannical, maddened Divine Lord... was in heat.
"He" had sensed Yu Fusheng.
The sudden turn of events left Master Qingxu’s handsome face as green as a bitter gourd.
Meanwhile, Master Lingxue frantically signaled him with her eyes. Suppressing the flickering rage in his gaze, he forced his usual shameless grin and met her stare, exchanging silent words.
Lingxue: Already taken?
Qingxu: Taken.
Lingxue: Can you still make him vomit it out?
Qingxu: Probably not.
Master Lingxue closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before turning to the two Saintess Elders. "Honored Saints, our sect has encountered an unexpected situation. Might we—"
A strange, delicate chime of a bell interrupted her.
The red curtains of the grand palanquin were pushed aside, revealing a hand—
Pale as plaster.
Then a wide sleeve slipped into view.
The robe was pure black, densely embroidered with gold and red patterns. At first glance, they seemed like intricate designs, but upon closer inspection, they were terrifying seals—layer upon layer of cursed inscriptions crawling from the cuff to the back of the hand, carved deep into flesh.
The countless seals restrained "Him," imprisoned "Him."
Behind the red veil, a face emerged.
Anyone seeing it for the first time would instinctively overlook its features, registering only one impression—sinister.
His skin was deathly pale, his pupils pitch black. Between his eyes, two crimson streaks dripped downward like inverted blood-colored blades etched onto his ghastly cheeks.
The left streak was the length of a fingernail, the right one slightly over an inch.
At a glance, they resembled slender trails of bloody tears—but they weren’t tears. Just markings of pure malevolence.
Beneath that aura of corruption lay a face of devastating beauty.
The being—who had never once displayed sanity—sat askew on his throne-like sedan, legs slightly parted. One hand held the curtain, the other rested on his knee.
An oppressive presence instantly suffocated the air. No one dared breathe.
Whether "He" chose to kill, devour, or end the world, it would all seem natural. Righteous, even.
Silence engulfed the surroundings.
Until the Divine Lord frowned and uttered, voice dripping with displeasure:
"Who’s crying in the middle of the night? Let people sleep."
"......"
"?!!!"
