"Lady Chan Luo, the demonic hordes within the Ying Mountains have been completely eradicated."
Chan Luo stood at the edge of the crowd, turning to gaze at the distant peaks. "Are you certain they’re all gone?"
The disciple replied, "Yes."
Chan Luo nodded. "Good. Gather the disciples and return. Some were dispatched to instruct the other noble families, weren’t they?"
The disciple confirmed, "Yes. By the order of Immortal Lord Zhuoyu, all disciples must master the formations she left behind. Around nine thousand disciples from the Three Sects and Four Families have been mobilized, and ours are currently teaching them."
Chan Luo acknowledged with another nod. "Very well. Let’s head back first."
The lead disciple signaled the others to withdraw. The barren lands where demonic hordes thrived were treacherous, and to safeguard the disciples from sudden ambushes by You Zhou, a senior elder or high-level cultivator always led the expeditions.
Chan Luo had volunteered to accompany Yan Shanqing on this mission, driven by her desire to do something for Yu Zhiling. Their destination lay at the very border of the Ying Mountains, nearly beyond its boundaries.
As the disciples retreated in orderly fashion through the dense forest, Chan Luo scanned the area one last time to ensure no stragglers or lingering demons remained before preparing to leave.
"Ah Luo."
A deep, clear voice called from the depths of the woods.
Chan Luo froze, her back still turned. Her hands clenched silently at her sides, and her shoulders trembled.
Footsteps approached lightly. Then, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a warm embrace from behind—just as they had done for centuries, night after night, when he would always hold her like this.
"Ah Luo, Ah Luo."
The tender murmur brushed against her ear.
He spoke as if cradling a long-lost treasure, each word dripping with reverence. His arms tightened around her, crushing her against him as though he could fuse her into his very bones.
Chan Luo’s expression remained icy. Without turning, she yanked a hairpin from her bun and drove it into the intruder’s shoulder.
He didn’t flinch or cry out, standing motionless as the pin pierced his flesh, letting her vent her fury.
Spiritual energy erupted from Chan Luo, the unleashed power of a Great Ascension-stage demonic cultivator capable of flattening miles of forest. But mindful of the disciples still retreating, she restrained her aura.
Chou Xiao absorbed the blow with a muffled grunt, blood rising in his throat. He held her close and whispered, "You still care, don’t you, Ah Luo? You still have feelings for me?"
Those words ignited her killing intent.
She remembered Yu Zhiling’s advice:
—Strike back.
In one fluid motion, Chan Luo drew the flexible blade at her waist, flung Chou Xiao away, and slashed at him with lethal precision.
The sword’s edge nearly severed his arm. Her eyes were frosty, the commotion alarming the distant disciples.
"Lady Chan Luo!"
The disciples couldn’t grasp the situation, but the shadowy figure lurking in the darkness and Chan Luo’s battle-ready stance told them enough.
"We’ll assist you!"
"Get out of here!" Chan Luo barked.
Chou Xiao smirked and vanished, reappearing beside a disciple with his hand poised to strike.
Chan Luo intercepted him in a blur, her blade clashing against his claw-like fingers. The shockwave howled through the silent woods like a vengeful spirit.
"Go! Take the others and leave!"
The disciples hesitated but obeyed, recognizing the vast gap in power between themselves and the stranger.
Chan Luo pressed her attack, every strike aimed to kill. Chou Xiao dodged gracefully, his robes fluttering, yet he only defended, never retaliating.
His gaze never left her face, devouring her with desperate hunger, indifferent to the fleeing disciples.
When Chan Luo swung at his eyes, Chou Xiao leaped back, putting distance between them.
He stood tall and elegant, clad in the purple robes she had once sewn for him.
Her eyes flickered over the garment before dismissing it as meaningless.
Chou Xiao’s smile faded. "Ah Luo, do you no longer recognize me?"
She raised her blade. "I recognize you perfectly. I just haven’t claimed your head yet."
Her frigid stare pierced him like a blade.
Chou Xiao had no interest in fighting. He only defended, pleading, "I was wrong. All these years, I’ve stayed in the Central Continent. How could I leave when you’re here?"
Chan Luo ignored him, his words slipping through her mind like wind.
Chou Xiao persisted, "Ah Luo, I came to take you away. Come back to the demon realm with me. Don’t follow Yu Zhiling into the Demon Abyss. You’ll die."
Her answer was another slash.
This one split his robe from shoulder to waist, rending the finely crafted but outdated garment to shreds—along with the heart she’d once entrusted to him.
Chou Xiao swallowed hard, blood seeping from the wound. She had truly meant to kill him.
"...Ah Luo?"
She pressed the blade to his throat. "Speak. What are you and You Zhou plotting? Are you involved with the Immortal Alliance? Why warn me against the Demon Abyss?"
Chou Xiao laughed, though his eyes held no mirth. "After all this time, is this all you have to say to me?"
"Chou Xiao, my patience is thin." The blade nicked his neck, drawing blood, but her gaze remained unshaken.
His irises darkened to crimson. Instead of retreating, he locked onto her eyes.
The Demon Abyss holds millions of demonic hordes and the elite of the demon race. You can’t win. Yu Zhiling is marching to her death—must you follow?
Chan Luo demanded, "What is You Zhou planning?"
"What if I refuse to answer?"
She yanked the hairpin from his shoulder and drove it toward his heart, stopping just an inch short.
Gripping the pin, she hissed, "Will you speak now?"
"If I do, will you spare me?"
"If you do, I’ll make your death quick."
"Ah Luo..." Chou Xiao’s eyes crinkled with a smile, though they glistened with unshed tears. "You haven’t changed at all."
Suddenly, he stepped forward, impaling himself deeper. Chan Luo’s pupils constricted, and she instinctively recoiled—giving Chou Xiao the opening he needed to wrench the pin free.
"Ah Luo, if you want to live, don’t go with her. You Zhou knows of her plans. This time, one of them will die. How can you be sure it won’t be your side?"
With one last lingering look, Chou Xiao vanished into the shadows before she could react.
"Chan Luo?"
A voice called from beside her.
Yan Shanqing frowned as he noticed Chan Luo’s absent-minded state and tentatively asked, "What’s wrong? A disciple just informed me that outsiders have arrived."
Chan Luo seemed lost, her gaze unfocused and vacant.
Spotting the blood on the ground and the wound on Chan Luo’s shoulder, Yan Shanqing’s brows furrowed deeper. "Speak. What happened?"
Suddenly, Chan Luo let out a bitter laugh and then slapped herself hard across the face—the sharp sound startling even Yan Shanqing. As she raised her hand to strike again, he quickly grabbed her wrist.
"What are you doing?"
"I’m a fool," Chan Luo hissed. "I actually hesitated just now? You Zhou was right—I’m so stupid that he dared to deceive and use me over and over. And yet, at the critical moment, I wavered. I let him escape!"
"How could I let him go? How could I be so weak and pathetic? Your master never should have spared me back then! While others spent six hundred years cultivating steadily, advancing their strength beyond mine, I wasted those centuries waiting for someone who would never return—my cultivation stagnant, my progress nonexistent!"
Her voice was frenzied as she wrenched her arm free and slapped herself again. Before she could land a third blow, Yan Shanqing rushed forward and restrained her.
"Calm down! So what if he escaped? If he dared to come here, he must have had an escape plan. Even if you hadn’t hesitated, he would’ve found a way out!"
"But I hesitated!"
"So what if you did?!" Yan Shanqing’s face flushed with anger as he snapped at her. "You’re not as cold-hearted as he is. You hesitated—fine! There’s a first and second time, but not a third or fourth. Don’t you hate him enough to kill him now? Will you hesitate next time?"
Would she hesitate next time?
Chan Luo stared into Yan Shanqing’s icy eyes, his sharp, thunderous question ringing in her ears.
"...No." She tightened her grip on the blade in her hand and shook her head. "Next time… I will cut him down myself."
Yan Shanqing released her and took a step back.
Chan Luo lowered her head, falling silent. The forest around them was thick with fallen leaves. After a long pause, she spoke hoarsely, "He came to take me back to the demon realm—to stop me from going to the Abyss of Demons. You Zhou already knows about your plans to enter the Abyss. From what he said, it’s likely filled with demonic spirits and fiends. Our forces may not be enough."
Yan Shanqing’s voice darkened. "Is this information reliable?"
Chan Luo scoffed. "As much as I hate to admit it, he may have used me selfishly, but he did love me once. At the very least, he still cares enough now to not want me to die."
She lifted her gaze, her tone flat. "And there’s more. The massacre of the Immortal Alliance… it’s probably connected to him."
Because Chou Xiao had said:
"I’ve been in the Central Continent all these years. How could I leave when you’re here?"
The slaughter of the Immortal Alliance couldn’t have been the work of a single person. To kill twelve elders, it would require at least two Great Ascension cultivators working together—or one Transcendent Realm expert.
Yan Shanqing’s eyes darkened. "Understood."
Chan Luo tore off the outer robe at her shoulder—the fabric stained with Chou Xiao’s blood was nothing but filth to her.
Yu Zhiling received Yan Shanqing’s jade token message.
His words were direct: the forces heading to the Abyss of Demons would be doubled, and Chou Xiao had been in the Central Continent all along.
Yu Zhiling responded calmly, "I see."
Yan Shanqing paused, then abruptly changed the subject. "It’s been three days. Are you cultivating at Listening Spring Cliff? Why hasn’t Mo Zhu come out either?"
Yu Zhiling, who had just taken a sip of tea, nearly choked. "Huh?"
Yan Shanqing repeated, "Are the two of you cultivating? The barrier around Listening Spring Cliff is up—no one can enter. Your second senior sister tried to bring you pastries but was turned away. And you barely answer the jade token, even after ten attempts."
"Well…"
Yu Zhiling wanted to answer. Every time the token lit up, she meant to. But as luck would have it, she and Mo Zhu had been… less than restrained lately. They barely rested during the day, only sleeping at night—and since Yan Shanqing usually called during daylight hours, she was often… otherwise occupied.
"Xiao Wu, is something wrong?"
Yu Zhiling brushed it off. "No, nothing’s wrong. We’ve just been practicing a sword technique that requires deep concentration. Didn’t you tell us to rest and recover our energy?"
Yan Shanqing clearly didn’t buy it. Seeming to realize something, he didn’t press further and muttered, "Fine. Rest well. I’ll contact you if anything comes up."
"Right, of course."
The moment the connection ended, the door swung open.
Mo Zhu stepped in, still damp from his bath, water dripping from his loose hair. He wore only black trousers, his broad shoulders and lean waist on full display—though the numerous scratches marring his skin somewhat ruined the view. Otherwise, Yu Zhiling might have propped her chin on her hand and admired the sight.
Her disciple strode in, proudly bearing the evidence of her "lessons."
The Immortal Lord coughed and averted her eyes. "Ahem. You—you bathed with those wounds? What if they get worse?"
Mo Zhu knelt on the bed and kissed her. "If they do, I’ll just take it out on Shizun."
Psychopath!
Yu Zhiling kicked him squarely in the abdomen.
Mo Zhu caught her ankle and yanked her toward him. She landed beneath him, and her disciple grinned before leaning down to kiss her again.
"Shizun, let’s not go out. Stay here with me a few more days."
He clung to her relentlessly. Yu Zhiling pressed a hand to his chest, laughing. "Everyone else is handling serious matters. What are we doing here?"
"Dual cultivation is serious," Mo Zhu argued shamelessly, pulling her into his lap. "Two Transcendent Realm cultivators practicing together—our power has grown significantly in just days." His lips brushed hers as he added, "Besides, the sect leader told us to rest."
Previously, Yu Zhiling had led disciples to exterminate a horde of demonic spirits and devised the formation strategy. She and Mo Zhu were key combatants in the upcoming battle—hence Yan Shanqing’s insistence that they conserve their strength.
Yu Zhiling dodged his kiss with a chuckle. "Senior brother told us to rest. Where exactly have you been resting?"
Mo Zhu deftly began undoing her robes. "Working hard by day, resting by night. A balanced approach."
Such nonsense.
He murmured against her ear, "Have you rested enough? Does it still hurt?"
Yu Zhiling scoffed. "If I said no, would you stop?"
Mo Zhu considered it. "If Shizun needs more rest, we can wait until tonight."
"How considerate." She glanced down at her near-naked body—only her thin undergarments remained. "You strip me first then ask. How hypocritical."
The hypocritical disciple accepted her criticism with a smile. "Next time, I’ll ask before undressing you. How’s that?"
Oh, wonderful.
Mo Zhu watched her as he slowly claimed her, his fingers gently tracing the faint crease between her brows.
He had just bathed, his scent pleasant and cool, carrying the unique fragrance of Mo Zhu—clean and refreshing. Yu Zhiling sat in his lap, burying her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as she clung to his shoulders to keep from being jostled off.
Her voice came out in breathless stutters. "What… what kind of incense do you wear?"
Mo Zhu panted. "What?"
She tightened her arms around him and asked again. "The scent on you… what is it?"
"I don’t use incense. I don’t know."
Mo Zhu never perfumed himself. His scent was simply the result of cleanliness, of frequent bathing and changing clothes. He had never noticed his own fragrance, but she always insisted there was something uniquely alluring about it.
He captured Yu Zhiling’s lips in a kiss, lifting her effortlessly as he carried her to the window. The sill was wide enough for her to sit comfortably.
A soft whimper escaped her as her toes curled, her legs wrapping around his waist, her mind and voice shattering into fragments.
She was still restrained, her muffled sounds delicate and trembling, like a kitten’s mewl. Mo Zhu, however, delighted in teasing her, determined to draw out unrestrained, wanton cries before he was satisfied.
He was wicked. Over the past few days, taking advantage of the fact that his master—a cultivator at the Tribulation Transcendence stage—had exceptional stamina, and that the Listening Spring Cliff housed only the two of them, he had indulged recklessly. He refused to confine himself to the bed or to a single position, experimenting with countless new ways to pleasure her in every corner of their secluded haven.
As dusk settled, the sky darkening, Mo Zhu finally carried her back to the bed.
He dampened a silk cloth and gently wiped her down. Yu Zhiling didn’t protest or demand a bath—she knew Mo Zhu wouldn’t let her rest until the hour of Hai (9-11 PM), and it was only You (5-7 PM). Once she caught her breath, he would undoubtedly start again.
She took the opportunity to rest, sipping the water he handed her before leaning back into his embrace.
Neither spoke. He held her quietly, eyes closed in feigned sleep, until Yu Zhiling’s gaze fell on the discarded cloth in the basin. The clear water had turned slightly murky, and a sudden realization struck her.
"Mo Zhu!"
Her voice was sharp.
His eyes snapped open, concern flooding his expression. "What’s wrong?"
Her face was grave. "You didn’t… take precautions!"
Mo Zhu blinked. "...What?"
Seeing his confusion, her panic flared. "Don’t you know? This kind of thing can lead to pregnancy! I’ve been so overwhelmed these past few days that I didn’t even think of it—now isn’t the time for a child!"
Understanding dawned on him, and he quickly soothed her. "It’s fine."
His calm response only incensed her further. "Easy for you to say! You’re not the one who’d have to carry it!"
Mo Zhu sighed. "That’s not what I meant. Truly, there’s no risk. Divine beast bloodlines are bound by heavenly laws—the Tengshe clan rarely conceives. My parents were married for centuries before I was born."
Her anger dimmed slightly. "Oh…"
But a second later, she bristled again. "Wait, ‘rarely’ doesn’t mean never! That’s like saying ‘just the tip won’t get you pregnant’—you’re gambling with my body on some slim chance!"
Mo Zhu swiftly pulled her close, pressing kisses to her face. "No, no, that’s not it. I promise, it’s impossible. I… I cast a spell. I did it a long time ago."
Yu Zhiling eyed him suspiciously. "You used contraception?"
The phrasing was blunt, but accurate.
Mo Zhu nodded. "That book you had me buy—it contained dual cultivation techniques from the Joyous Path Sect. There was a spell to prevent conception. I’m not reckless. I know what’s appropriate for us now. Just the fact that you’re willing to marry me is enough to make me lose my mind with happiness."
Besides, he was still young. The thought of children had never crossed his mind—he only wanted to savor their time alone together.
Yu Zhiling relaxed against him. "...Sorry. I misunderstood."
"No, it’s my fault for not explaining earlier." Mo Zhu stroked her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Don’t worry. I’d never take risks with your body."
"...Mm." She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in his scent. Strangely, just his presence was enough to steady her heart.
They lay quietly entwined, Mo Zhu pulling the covers over her, leaving only her smooth shoulders exposed. His palm skimmed over her skin, his cheek resting against her forehead in a tender nuzzle.
"Mo Zhu."
"Hm?"
"After we leave the Demon Abyss… let’s go to the Nether Sea. Don’t you want to see it again?" Yu Zhiling lifted her gaze, eyes bright. "They’re still there."
He knew exactly who she meant.
Mo Zhu’s voice softened. "Alright. We’ll go to the Nether Sea. We’ll visit them."
Whether in life or death, he would never part from her.
Buried together in the Demon Abyss, or returning side by side to the Central Continent—it made no difference.
He wasn’t afraid. Neither was she.
Mo Zhu lay flat on the bed, one hand slipping beneath the covers to massage her waist.
"Master, these past few days, I’ve been the one taking liberties with you… Do you want to have your way with me?"
Yu Zhiling’s throat bobbed. She sat up, cocooned in the blanket, blinking in confusion. "...What?"
He stretched out before her, his gaze tender, his usually aloof features now strikingly alluring, like a fox spirit weaving enchantments. A smirk curled his lips as he gripped her waist and pulled her atop him.
"Come. Ride me."
It took her a full fifteen minutes to grasp his meaning.
"Kiss me."
"Hold me."
"Master, let go. Don’t hold back. Do whatever pleases you—I’m yours."
He was too skilled with words, each murmur sending heat rushing to her face. Yet she couldn’t deny the thrill they sent through her—how shocking that this usually reserved young man could be so wanton in bed. And yet, if not for his boldness, she might never have known just how intoxicating this could be.
Yu Zhiling’s hair clung damply to her skin, a sheen of sweat glistening on her body. Her slender waist, honed by years of sword practice, was deceptively strong—she could carry multiple people up a mountain without breaking a sweat. But now, every movement felt like thousands of ants crawling over her bones. She barely lasted a few moments before collapsing into breathless gasps, utterly spent.
Especially because his moans were too enticing. His gaze never left her, one hand supporting her as she took control, setting the pace entirely. No matter how desperately he craved more, he never rushed her.
"I can’t… it’s too much… Mo Zhu, I can’t—"
Mo Zhu had been waiting for those words. "Alright. My turn."
The world spun before the rhythm turned urgent again. Yu Zhiling’s thoughts scattered—this was why she preferred him in charge. Since he was always the one initiating, it was only fair he did the work.
His sweat dripped onto her face, those beautiful eyes brimming with raw desire—this lofty figure, now fallen into the depths of lust, was nothing short of a debauched immortal.
Yu Zhiling gazed at that face, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
"Mo Zhu, Mo Zhu..."
Mo Zhu answered her with a lingering kiss.
"Master, I love you."
