The Divine Sovereign actually spoke.
Master Lingxue, risking grave disrespect, let her gaze sweep past the terrifying aura of the Divine Sovereign and hesitantly sought answers from the two Saintess Elders of the divine palace.
Their expressions were even more dreadful than hers.
The scent of Yu Fusheng had long been imprinted into the bloodline of successive Divine Sovereigns. The Divine Sovereign was incomparably powerful—merely sensing from afar that a woman had used Yu Fusheng was enough to ignite his desire, like a beast catching the scent of a mate in heat during spring.
But a Divine Sovereign in heat wasn’t frightening. A Divine Sovereign gone mad wasn’t frightening either. What was truly terrifying was a Divine Sovereign who spoke.
For a moment, no one paid attention to what the Divine Sovereign had actually said. Their minds were consumed by a single horrified thought: "He" isn’t supposed to have consciousness… Why can "He" speak?
After a deathly silence, several Nascent Soul cultivators exchanged glances and silently released their divine senses to probe their surroundings.
What had the Divine Sovereign just said… Crying?
Who was crying?
Apart from the faint chime of wind passing through the enchanted golden bells, there was no other sound.
Not even in the distance.
"Your Eminence," the Saintess Elder on the left bowed deeply, her voice hoarse as she reported, "No one is crying."
She didn’t dare lift her head to meet his gaze.
Unease coiled in her heart.
Yet, as she observed the shifting expressions of those present, she noticed the subtle flickers in their eyes.
Some were focused on the present, wondering how to resolve today’s incident—whether to throw the woman who had secretly used Yu Fusheng onto the Divine Sovereign’s bed, or perhaps toss the man who had taken the drug up there as well.
Others, with deeper foresight, were already contemplating the future shifts in the world’s grand balance.
The only one who should have been trembling in fear—Luo Luo, whose body radiated the sweet fragrance of Yu Fusheng—stood detached, her mind wandering far away, utterly indifferent to the situation around her.
Was someone crying?
It certainly wasn’t her.
She wasn’t crying. In fact, a faint smile lingered on her lips.
Even if it was an ugly smile, she kept it there.
Her soul had already slipped free of her body, as if she were an outsider looking down at herself, at her master, at Chen Xuanyi wearing Li Zhaoye’s skin.
How strange. After that sharp, suffocating pain in her chest, she didn’t feel sad at all anymore. Her heart was just… hollow. Numb. She could keep smiling like this forever.
Li Zhaoye… she thought with a wry inward laugh, I don’t think I can avenge you after all.
It wasn’t that she wanted to resign herself to fate. It was just that, like Li Zhaoye on the beach that day, she had no path left except to shatter into pieces.
"Your Eminence?"
The Saintess Elder waited, but when no response came, she cautiously lifted her wrinkled eyelids.
To her surprise, the Divine Sovereign was tilting his head slightly, as if listening intently.
A strange thought flickered through the Saintess Elder’s mind: He looks so… human.
The Divine Sovereign had never been human. He was a demonic entity, a monstrous ghost.
Just yesterday, "He" had been crawling upside down across the floor, up pillars and along the ceiling, his neck twisted unnaturally. Or suddenly materializing behind some unfortunate soul, turning them into an actual ghost.
Even when the effects of Yu Fusheng had taken hold earlier, "He" had still seemed mindless.
Who could have imagined that after being carried here, "He" would suddenly become… abnormal.
Or rather, normal.
Now, "He" looked more like "him." Like a person.
He abruptly stood.
Several people who had been secretly watching flinched in unison.
Clink—clink-clink-clink!
The Divine Sovereign moved sharply, brushing aside the red curtains in front of him. The golden bells hanging from the edges jingled wildly.
He stepped forward as if to leap down.
The countless sealing talismans covering his body flared to life at once, glowing like chains restraining him, hindering his movement.
He frowned. Just before he could stumble, his figure blurred—if he teleported fast enough, no one would see him trip.
In the next instant, he appeared right in front of Luo Luo.
His black robes and the shadows of the curses enveloped her. The excessively tall Divine Sovereign had to bend down slightly to look her in the face.
He leaned closer, tilting his head, inhaling her scent.
Weighed down by the shackles of the seals, his movements were stiff and sluggish, yet the terrifying aura he exuded only grew more oppressive.
She stood in his shadow like a helpless prey offering its neck to the slaughter.
He had locked onto her.
The people of the divine palace could already envision the bloody scene that would follow—his fingers closing around her, sharp nails piercing her delicate flesh, drawing forth sweet, crimson blood before lifting her to his mouth to devour. Or perhaps something even worse: pinning this woman reeking of Yu Fusheng beneath him, indulging in violent, bestial acts while tearing into her throat and face.
Even under the influence of Yu Fusheng’s illusions, past Divine Sovereigns had still been prone to losing control in the throes of passion.
No one wanted to recall those scenes in detail.
Twisted shadows flickering across the bedchamber. Screams cut short. Blood flooding the room, splattering the walls, sometimes even decorating the ceiling with… pieces of what had once been a beautiful body.
In the Divine Sovereign’s case, "receiving favor" was never a blessing.
Death could come swiftly. And for those who survived, the trauma often left them broken, never daring to endure it again.
Carrying a divine heir was even worse.
The next Divine Sovereign always tore its way out prematurely.
The two Saintess Elders exchanged a glance. This fool from the Tai Xuan Sect doesn’t even realize she’s already dead. Still smiling.
Luo Luo had no idea others saw her as a corpse.
Her vision was filled with fragments of memory—everything from the past eleven years shattering like a massive pane of glass, shards flying everywhere, piercing her all over.
She remembered her master smiling as he bent down, pressing a hand to her head while teaching her sword techniques. She remembered him nudging her and Li Zhaoye to sneak out and steal chickens and wine. She remembered him swindling Uncle Shuo Yun of the Flame Peak into forging a pair of matched swords—Autumn Waters and Eternal Sky—for her and Li Zhaoye, still unpaid to this day.
Only now did she realize that Mirror Twin Peak had been a meticulously crafted cage, trapping her and Li Zhaoye inside.
Under her master’s subtle, deliberate guidance, they had relied only on each other, rarely interacting with the outside world, living in a tiny bubble of three.
Now the cage had shattered. Her world had shattered.
Her master had said Li Zhaoye died smiling. So she wouldn’t cry.
She would smile.
The shadow before her loomed closer.
Luo Luo kept smiling as the figure in front of her spoke: "What’s with the crying? So damn noisy. If you don’t let me sleep, I’ll—"
He’ll what?
Luo Luo’s numb mind stirred slightly.
That lazy, arrogant tone—it almost sounded like Li Zhaoye.
Her unfocused gaze slowly sharpened as she looked up at the man who had appeared before her.
He was tall, blocking out all light.
Enveloped in his shadow, she couldn’t make out his features clearly—only that his skin was deathly pale, his pupils pitch-black, and beneath each eye was a streak of crimson.
It looked as though his eyeballs had been split vertically by two knife cuts, bleeding—one short on the left, one long on the right.
Luo Luo raised her eyes to look at him, yet her gaze involuntarily slipped past him, drifting into emptiness.
The guy stared at her for a moment before suddenly leaning in closer.
Perhaps because he was weighed down by layers of powerful seals, even the slightest movement from him made the surrounding space tremble faintly, as if on the verge of collapse.
He bent down, bringing his face beside her ear.
His voice, light as a feather, was unbearably wicked: "...sleep with you."
If you don’t let me sleep, I’ll sleep with you.
It even rhymed.
He blinked slowly with those eyes no one dared meet directly, tilting his head to observe her, as if waiting for her to be terrified.
Luo Luo faintly caught the scent of Li Zhaoye.
Her vision emptied again, and she felt herself transported back to that mountain of corpses and sea of blood from years ago, where Li Zhaoye had found her, sword in hand, drenched in hot, sticky blood.
He was so fierce, his aura terrifyingly oppressive, gripping the back of her head to intimidate her.
What had he said then?
"If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop—I’ll have to take you right here!"
What a shame. He never kissed her, never slept with her.
If she’d known they’d have no future, she wouldn’t have bothered preserving that damn purity.
Just look at how pent-up he’d been.
After that day, whenever they sparred, he’d often excuse himself abruptly, sneaking off to cool under a small waterfall.
He thought he was being discreet, but Luo Luo had seen it all by accident.
Beneath his robes—terrifying.
If he wanted to sleep with her, then so be it.
"Alright," Luo Luo murmured softly, smiling at the Li Zhaoye in her mind. "Go ahead."
If he didn’t do it now, it’d be too late.
The surroundings fell silent.
The Tai Xuan Sect was arrayed with formations, its mountain paths illuminated by floating lights at night, bright as an overcast day.
But no light could penetrate the space around the Divine Lord.
His presence devoured illumination, his shadow swallowing Luo Luo whole. She plummeted into darkness, landing squarely in his grasp.
The onlookers’ expressions shifted.
"Unacceptable!"
"Unacceptable!"
Master Lingxue and Master Qingxu spoke in unison.
Their gazes met, complex emotions swirling between them.
This wasn’t the first time they’d spoken simultaneously, but it was the first time their hearts were divided. Master Lingxue was willing to defy the Divine Lord to protect her disciple, while Master Qingxu’s agitation stemmed from the complications unfolding.
The two Saintess Elders from the Divine Palace shook their heads disapprovingly.
The Divine Lord’s first rut was perilous enough—and now he’d gained sentience. Provoking him in this state could lead to unimaginable consequences.
A frosty glint flickered in Master Lingxue’s eyes.
Those familiar with her knew this signaled her gathering spiritual energy, preparing for battle.
Master Lingxue declared, "Today’s incident is indeed my oversight. However, Luo Luo is a core disciple of the Tai Xuan Sect. Daoist Xuan Yi himself arranged her marriage—she is already betrothed to Li Zhaoye, the Master of the Taiyi Sword. I implore the Divine Lord to reconsider."
Though typically rigid and upright, she lied without batting an eye when necessary.
She then shot a discreet glance at Qingxu, signaling him to slip away and summon Daoist Xuan Yi from the Peach Blossom Realm while she held the line.
Master Qingxu: "..."
He pretended not to understand.
The Saintess Elders also appeared troubled.
If the Tai Xuan Sect insisted on protecting her, they couldn’t very well let Daoist Xuan Yi and the Divine Lord clash and reduce the place to ruins.
Had the Divine Lord lacked sentience, they could’ve forced him into slumber by activating the seals. But now that he was conscious, doing so would be outright rebellion.
Who would bear his wrath?
As tensions mounted, a voice suddenly interjected: "That’s not true. The betrothal shouldn’t stand anymore—Luo Luo is free to marry someone else."
Master Lingxue glared. "Gu Meng!"
Gu Meng had somehow maneuvered herself beside "Li Zhaoye," supporting his unsteady frame.
Luo Luo glanced over.
Whatever nonsense Chen Xuanyi had fed Gu Meng, she now wore an indignant expression, meeting Master Lingxue’s icy stare without flinching.
Gu Meng declared, "Sect Leader, even if you’re angry, I must speak. You shouldn’t shield Luo Luo in front of outsiders. Didn’t you say yourself that the Heartbond Vow is a burden, harming both parties? It should’ve been dissolved long ago!"
Master Lingxue snapped, "Silence."
The Saintess Elder countered, "Let her speak."
Gu Meng pressed on courageously, "To reclaim Li Zhaoye, Luo Luo has gone too far—this time, she even drugged him, nearly ruining his body! If the bond is nothing but forced persistence, what’s the point in keeping it? Li Zhaoye doesn’t love Luo Luo!"
Her words struck like a hammer.
Buzz... buzz...
Luo Luo heard ringing in her ears.
Slowly, she thought—yes, Gu Meng was right. Not a single word was wrong.
In this world, there was no longer a Li Zhaoye who loved Luo Luo.
Her long-numbed heart twisted violently, aching as if wrung dry.
The scene before her shifted abruptly.
The Nascent Soul cultivators barely had time to gasp before the Divine Lord materialized before Gu Meng, his aura suffocating.
"Annoying," he said flatly, his pitch-black eyes boring into her.
He reached out and pinched her lips shut with a soft plop.
A touch, then release.
"Mmph!" Gu Meng whimpered, stumbling back into Chen Xuanyi’s arms, her ears and neck flushing scarlet.
She wanted to cry but couldn’t part her lips—they’d fused together, flesh melded into a grotesque seal.
Terrified, she lifted her gaze to those inhumanly cold eyes and immediately recoiled, too petrified to make another sound.
Her delicate frame trembled like a leaf in autumn.
"Li Zhaoye" didn’t step forward to defend her.
Before anyone could react, the capricious Divine Lord teleported back to Luo Luo, his seals humming with power.
"You’re worse," he growled at her.
His hand rose—the same gesture.
"Wait—!" Master Qingxu instinctively moved to intervene. "Your Grace, mercy!"
Old habits died hard. Years of doting on his disciple had conditioned him to shield her unconditionally.
Luo Luo remained lost in thought, making no effort to evade.
The Divine Lord’s cruelty only reminded her of Li Zhaoye.
Li Zhaoye had never been the "aloof, righteous, kind-hearted" type. At his core, he was mischievous—when cicadas annoyed him in summer, he’d catch them one by one, crush their sound-producing membranes, and release them, boasting about his "mercy" for not killing them.
What could Luo Luo do? She endured the silence he brought.
Li Zhaoye, Li Zhaoye.
Lost in memories, Luo Luo didn’t realize she, too, was now a cicada disturbing the Divine Lord.
A cold, seal-laden hand reached for her.
Thud.
Instead of pinching her mouth, he pressed a fingertip to her temple, leaning in until the two glaring red marks in his eyes seemed to sear into her skin.
He was impatient—extremely impatient. The hostility radiating from him scattered the mountain breeze that brushed past.
"Stop. Crying. Now. You. Hear?"
He punctuated each word with a poke at her. Though his expression was fierce, he didn’t actually harm her.
Luo Luo didn’t have the strength to explain. She nodded weakly. "Okay."
Her compliance didn’t satisfy him. He glared, clearly looking for a fight.
Master Lingxue had had enough. With a subtle flick of her fingers, an imperceptible wave of Daoist intent condensed the surrounding moisture into ice, silently obstructing the Divine Lord’s movements.
In that fleeting moment, a cold yet gentle hand grasped Luo Luo’s and pulled her aside.
Luo Luo blinked in surprise. "Sect Master…?"
Master Lingxue tightened her grip slightly, a silent reassurance.
But in the next instant, another hand—colder, harder—landed on Luo Luo’s shoulder, pinning her in place.
The air crackled as two terrifying auras clashed.
"Sect Master," Luo Luo suddenly smiled, her voice soft. "You were right. Some things must be cut clean. I won’t cling anymore. I’ll go with them."
Master Lingxue’s face darkened. "No. Li Zhaoye didn’t betray you. He just forgot you for now. He’ll remember."
Her fingers tightened around Luo Luo’s wrist.
The two of them were now echoing each other’s past words.
Master Lingxue pressed her lips into a thin line, her gaze firm: You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for the sect. As long as you’re a disciple of Tai Xuan Sect, we will protect you.
She even gestured—rather rudely—toward the two Saintess Elders from the Divine Palace.
The two elders had deliberately aged their appearances, likely to avoid catching the Divine Lord’s attention.
Being noticed by him was never a good thing.
Luo Luo shook her head and gently pried Master Lingxue’s hand away.
"Luo Luo!"
"Sect Master, I stole the Yu Fusheng," Luo Luo said with a faint smile. "Li Zhaoye and I had planned to take it for a long time. We just never got the chance because you guarded it too well."
Seizing Master Lingxue’s moment of shock, Luo Luo freed herself.
"I’m leaving now."
Her legs gave out. She slumped backward, right into the arms of the terrifying figure behind her.
The Divine Lord swept her into the grand palanquin carried by sixteen crane puppets.
Red curtains adorned with golden bells fluttered shut.
The crane puppets spread their wings, lifting the palanquin into the sky.
The two elderly Saintess Elders nodded politely at the Tai Xuan Sect members before stepping into the wind.
Master Lingxue stood frozen for a moment before whirling around in fury.
"Qingxu, you old thief! If you dared help her steal the medicine, why didn’t you volunteer to entertain the Divine Lord instead?"
Master Qingxu was busy helping Chen Xuanyi peel the dried blood from Gu Meng’s lips.
Master Lingxue spat out, "Why didn’t the Divine Lord take a liking to you? You may be a man, but you’ve got a pretty face!"
Master Qingxu’s hand slipped, leaving a long gash on Gu Meng’s face. She howled, her deer-like eyes full of betrayal.
She knew it—this old fox was definitely avenging his little disciple!
"Quit whining," Master Qingxu snapped. "Luo Luo gave you that scar-healing ointment. It’ll fix this without a trace."
The ointment had originally been meant for Li Zhaoye—to erase the cross-shaped scar on his face. But the fool had refused, claiming his original looks were too delicate. So Luo Luo had kept it in her pouch.
Master Qingxu’s gaze flickered toward the sky.
Luo Luo was already gone.
When Luo Luo came to, she was high above the clouds.
The sixteen crane puppets beat their wings rhythmically, the palanquin swaying slightly—not like it was floating in the air, but as if gliding on water.
She barely registered the overwhelming presence beside her.
After a dazed moment, realization struck—she had escaped. Escaped from her master, from Chen Xuanyi.
Her numb heart began to stir.
She still had a chance.
A chance to expose Chen Xuanyi. A chance to crush him. A chance to avenge Li Zhaoye.
Though her chest still ached, she no longer had to force a smile.
"Eight hundred years of crying, and now you finally let me sleep."
A hand patted her head approvingly.
Luo Luo: "…"
She’d forgotten. Escaping the tiger’s den only led her into the wolf’s lair.
She turned to study the sinister Divine Lord beside her.
He sprawled across the palanquin seat, leaving her barely any space in the corner.
"Don’t disturb me while I sleep."
His slitted eyes—like they’d been split by a blade—lazily rolled before shutting, leaving only two crimson marks beneath them.
Luo Luo’s mind raced. Maybe she could still run—
Thud.
A large, heavily sealed hand clamped around her wrist.
His lips curled into a smug smirk, eyes still closed. "No escaping."
The atmosphere in the Hall of Reflection was suffocating.
Chen Xuanyi snarled, "Look what you’ve done!"
"Me?" Master Qingxu shot back. "How was I supposed to know that thing would get frisky from miles away? You blaming me for that?"
Chen Xuanyi laughed coldly. "That’s not what I meant! Right now, I should be breaking through to the Divine Transformation stage. Instead, my cultivation’s regressing—almost back to Golden Core!"
Luo Luo’s final strike in the Yu Fusheng illusion had shattered his Dao heart. He’d been choking on blood all night.
"Oh? That’s what you’re mad about?" Master Qingxu scoffed. "I knew you discarded your body and suppressed your soul to merge with a younger vessel. But who knew you’d be this stupid at twenty?"
Chen Xuanyi sneered. "I’m stupid?"
"Who else?" Master Qingxu drawled. "Twice now, you’ve been outsmarted by a fledgling. A perfectly set-up Yu Fusheng dream—I even warned you! A beautiful, seductive scenario handed to you on a platter, and you still messed it up. If I were you, I’d pluck some lotus leaves, wrap myself up, and roast in the dirt like a damn castrated chicken! And you still have the nerve to yap at me? Yap yap yap—"
He kept taunting, eyes shut, shaking his head as he sprayed spit in Chen Xuanyi’s direction.
Chen Xuanyi watched him coldly before suddenly laughing.
"Qingxu… Qingxu," he murmured, as if realizing something. "You cultivate the Path of Deception—first fooling others, then heaven itself. But after all this lying… have you fooled even yourself? Raising those two chicks—did you actually grow attached? Calling yourself a heartless actor, toying with little fledglings?"
Master Qingxu just kept swaying, indifferent.
Chen Xuanyi spoke faster now: "You preach one thing but do another, leaving openings for her everywhere. Dare you claim there isn’t even a shred of personal bias? Could it be that the life-and-death battle on the beach between father and son shook your steadfast heart of ruthless Dao? You let your little disciple ‘discipline’ me to avenge your eldest disciple—didn’t it feel rather satisfying deep down?"
Master Qingxu’s eyes snapped open, his gaze icy with thinly veiled anger as he enunciated each word: "Absolutely not!"
Chen Xuanyi chuckled. "Ah, you’re getting defensive."
He continued, amused: "You always criticized me for being overprotective of my disciples in the past. Look at you now—you’ve learned my ways down to the last detail. Just remember, amid all the pretense, don’t deceive yourself to the point of ruining your own Dao heart."
"Enough," Master Qingxu said expressionlessly. "If Luo Luo doesn’t die on the Divine Master’s bed, I’ll end her myself."
"Fine." Chen Xuanyi leaned lazily against the windowsill. "No need for such words between us. After all, we walk the same path—you know where you’re headed. The Great Dao is long and winding. Stopping now and then to pluck a blade of grass or admire a flower does no harm. Who knows? It might even be an opportunity—first ruthlessness, then sentiment, and finally, transcending sentiment altogether."
Master Qingxu’s eyes darkened in contemplation.
After a long pause, Chen Xuanyi suddenly grinned mischievously. "Ahaha, as expected, the older the ginger, the spicier! The master remains the master! This disciple has learned his lesson!"
Luo Luo was taken straight into the Divine Master’s bedchamber.
Throughout the entire process, neither the Saintess Elder, the attendants, nor anyone else uttered a single word.
The Divine Master gripped her wrist the entire way, his hold so tight it made her bones ache.
Even after arriving at the divine palace, he still didn’t let go.
Striding over the knee-high threshold of black stone, Luo Luo was stunned by the sight before her.
It was enormous.
The pitch-black hall bore no resemblance to an ordinary palace chamber—it looked more like a vast, exquisitely crafted cavern. Every detail was designed for durability.
As she ventured further inside, she noticed more unsettling details.
The floor was paved with unyielding black stone tiles, the towering pillars were forged of dark jade, and the walls and ceiling bore countless terrifying palm prints and claw marks.
It was clear that some beast-like creature often roamed this hall, crawling from the ground to the ceiling.
Even more horrifying were the bloodstains embedded deep within those marks—impossible to scrub away.
This bedchamber had clearly witnessed many violent incidents.
Luo Luo’s vision blurred as she was teleported onto the bed.
The bed could easily accommodate ten people lying side by side. The bedding, at least, was fresh, exuding a faint, delicate fragrance.
Elegant candles of varying heights flickered beside the bed.
The bed curtains swayed without wind, lending an air of intimacy.
He placed her on the bed, then vanished from the spot, reappearing beside the palace doors.
The massive carved black stone doors groaned as they slowly closed.
Turning around, he tilted his head slightly, as if waiting for the doors to shut completely. Instead of teleporting, he strode toward her step by step, his long black robes trailing behind him, weighed down by countless layers of sealing spells.
He was exceptionally tall, and when he blocked the light, the sheer presence of him was overwhelming.
As Luo Luo’s heart pounded in fear, an untimely memory surfaced in her mind—the title of a forbidden book she had once glimpsed in the restricted archives.
It was the same book Li Zhaoye had held up to the moonlight to read—
