Xu Wanci listened to Yan Shuo's words, her face clouded with confusion.
She had no memories of the past and no idea who the person he mentioned—the one who had lived a century ago—could possibly be.
But...
Did she despise cultivators from the immortal realm?
Xu Wanci searched her emotions, blinking slowly:
It seemed... she didn’t.
So, was the man beside her truly her intimate lover?
Could she really trust Yan Shuo’s words?
Without turning her head, she quietly studied the deep red of her robes, calmly piecing together everything that had happened since she awoke:
She had been gravely injured, lost her memories, and only now regained consciousness.
According to Yan Shuo, they were in love, and after her injury, he had saved her using most of the demon realm’s treasured artifacts.
The demon realm... treasured artifacts?
Xu Wanci seemed to realize something, turning her head with a dazed expression, her voice tinged with disbelief:
"You’re... a demonic cultivator?"
Though her memories were gone, she still retained some basic instincts and knowledge.
Whether or not she truly despised immortal cultivators, she was certain of one thing—she herself was a cultivator.
Even if she understood nothing else, she knew the immortal and demon realms had always been locked in conflict.
How could two people of such opposing backgrounds have become lovers?
Yan Shuo watched her belated shock, the corner of his lips lifting imperceptibly, his voice laced with just the right amount of hurt:
"Wanci is truly heartless."
"Once, you treated me differently because of my demonic cultivation, yet now you’ve changed your mind and despise me for it?"
Xu Wanci studied the faintly indifferent expression on his face and opened her mouth, but in the end, said nothing:
Wasn’t this... too fake?
She couldn’t help feeling that if she were acting this scene herself, she’d do a far better job.
Still...
Despite the urge to believe him that rose in her chest, her mind only grew colder and more... wary.
Deep inside, she sensed a hidden danger.
Her instincts warned her—the man before her was dangerous, far beyond her ability to contend with.
Right now, her priority was to understand her situation and her past.
With this in mind, she kept her expression blank, blinking in confusion:
"But immortals and demons are natural enemies..."
She turned to kneel before Yan Shuo, meeting his gaze earnestly:
"If, as you say... we’re lovers."
"Then how did we meet? How did we fall in love? And why was I so badly injured that I ended up here?"
Yan Shuo wasn’t surprised by her questions.
His eyes, dark and fathomless, softened slightly as he took in the sight of Xu Wanci in her crimson robes, her gaze fixed solely on him.
He lifted a strand of her hair where it draped over her collarbone, watching the inky locks slip through his fingers, his smile deepening:
"Whatever kind of meeting Wanci wishes for, that’s the one we had."
"If the past tied to me would only bring back painful memories," he gently tucked her hair behind her shoulder, his voice so tender it could make one swoon,
"then forgetting is no loss."
He dismissed her past with effortless ease, his tone laced with quiet persuasion:
"We have an eternity ahead of us. Why waste time chasing memories you never wanted to keep?"
The faint brush of her hair against her neck only sharpened Xu Wanci’s focus. Ruthlessly, she suppressed the flicker of attachment she felt toward him:
No matter how sweet his words, she grasped one truth—
He didn’t want her to remember.
Why?
If they were truly close, why hide her past?
Shouldn’t a lover’s first instinct be to help her reclaim lost memories?
Unless those memories...
Her thoughts remained icy, but her face showed only bewilderment. She leaned back slightly, putting distance between them, her voice laced with fragile trust:
"But right now, I know nothing."
"It’s... terrifying."
Yan Shuo caught the vulnerability in her tone, the greed in his eyes receding beneath a veneer of warmth, though something darker churned beneath:
"Wanci, you know your own nature."
"If it weren’t unbearable, why would you choose to forget?"
His hand stroked her hair soothingly. "I’m only honoring the choice you once made."
"Don’t worry. In time, you’ll grow to love everything as it is now."
Including him.
Xu Wanci lifted her gaze and abruptly met Yan Shuo’s obsidian-dark stare, so intense it made her turn away.
His words sounded flawless, self-contained—yet revealed nothing.
She still knew nothing of her past.
Was it truly as he claimed? Had her life been so wretched that she’d willingly erased it?
Her fingers twitched imperceptibly:
That didn’t sound like her.
If things had been truly dire...
She would have clawed her way free and branded every step into her heart.
Even without memories, she was still herself.
Slowly, she blinked away all traces of doubt, leaving only guileless confusion.
Yan Shuo watched her face—puzzled, hesitant, yet never resisting his closeness—and his eyes narrowed faintly.
He reached out, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek:
"What are you thinking?"
Startled, Xu Wanci’s hand jerked sideways, her fingers brushing against something cold and unfamiliar.
Curious, she glanced down.
Tucked in the corner lay an exquisite blue artifact.
She shifted, bracing herself on one arm while her other hand stretched to hook the object from its hiding place.
Once it was in her palm, she sat upright, tracing the intricate patterns with her fingertips.
A blue three-petaled lotus rested in her hand, its delicate hue a stark contrast to the dark red of her robes—yet the pairing felt strangely harmonious, even beautiful.
As she examined it, Yan Shuo’s gaze darkened, his smile frosting at the edges.
His voice remained gentle, though a chill seeped through:
"So you kept this... utterly useless trinket."
Xu Wanci had always been sensitive to the emotions of those around her. She tightened her grip slightly on the Three-Leaf Lotus in her hand:
"Yan Shuo, do you dislike this artifact?"
Yet, why did she feel that this artifact was... precious?
Her gaze lingered on the Three-Leaf Lotus with a focus she didn’t even realize herself.
She didn’t look up at Yan Shuo, burying all her probing beneath a veneer of sincere admiration:
"Plain and unremarkable?"
"I think it’s quite beautiful."
"Beautiful?" Yan Shuo cast a faint glance at the Three-Leaf Lotus in her hand, his voice laced with a chill. "What a pity."
"This artifact was forged by the person you despise most."
Watching Xu Wanci’s startled expression, he arched a brow, his tone calm and composed:
"You kept it, most likely to celebrate that person’s death."
"Now, it’s been exactly a century."
Xu Wanci listened, lowering her eyes to veil the emotions swirling within them.
That person again.
Was that person intricately tied to her past?
At this thought, her grip on the Three-Leaf Lotus tightened imperceptibly:
"Did I... have some deep-seated grudge against that person?"
Yan Shuo’s lips curled into a smile tinged with gentle malice:
"Oh yes. He... harmed you greatly."
Seeing the curiosity in her eyes, he continued softly:
"He brought you to the brink of death multiple times, restricted your cultivation, and ensured your swordsmanship would never touch the grand dao..."
"With him around, you were never truly happy. For a hundred years, you lived in nothing but pain."
His fingers lightly traced her left arm:
"Here, there was once a wound so severe the pain lasted a month—all because of him."
Xu Wanci stiffened as Yan Shuo’s fingertips drifted upward, from her shoulder to her neck, finally resting against her cheek:
"These places were once scorched by the world’s most potent spiritual flames, leaving you bedridden for months."
His hand rose further, settling against the back of her head:
"Your divine sense and dantian were repeatedly grievously injured..."
His voice was tender, almost sighing:
"Every scar on your body is because of that person. How could you not despise him?"
Amidst the chaos,
Xiao Yuyan hadn’t even noticed the wisp of Heavenly Dao power gathering at his fingertips dissipate silently into the void as Yan Shuo spoke.
An unfamiliar emotion flickered in his heart.
In the emptiness, the swirling chaos bled into color, like ink spreading across paper, staining the void a pale blue.
Then, in the next instant, the storm stilled.
Standing motionless within it, Xiao Yuyan seemed to return to his role as the Heavenly Dao—listening to the whispers of all things, observing the rise and fall of the world, untouched and unmoved.
Yet in his eyes, a faint glimmer remained, like the surge of a tide, turbulent yet silent.
The Heavenly Dao’s heart, once formless and void, gradually took shape.
Warmth seeped in.
The god was step by step, willingly, drawing closer to the mortal realm.
Closer to that person in the mortal world.
Even if he himself didn’t realize it.
In the Dark Abyss Pavilion,
Xu Wanci listened to Yan Shuo’s words, shivering as his fingers brushed over her.
She could tell—every word he spoke was true. So true it felt as if he’d witnessed her injuries himself.
He wasn’t lying.
She had truly suffered those wounds, wounds so agonizing just hearing about them made her ache.
Staring at her now-unblemished hands, she murmured, "How much it must have hurt..."
But was that person truly the one who’d hurt her so?
Doubt lingered, but she had no answers.
Yan Shuo’s fingertips coiled with demonic energy as he gazed at the Three-Leaf Lotus, malice undisguised:
"In that case, let me destroy it for you, Wanci."
"Let it accompany the person you loathe."
Xu Wanci instinctively clutched the artifact tighter. The emotion rising in her wasn’t hatred—it was fear.
She didn’t want it destroyed. She didn’t even want it harmed.
She trusted her instincts. Besides, it was just an artifact. Keeping it posed no danger.
Meeting Yan Shuo’s gaze, her voice softened with resignation:
"It’s not the artifact’s fault."
"I like it. I want to keep it."
Her eyes held a cautious plea, vulnerable and entirely dependent on his mercy:
"May I?"
Yan Shuo’s malice surged, but he forced it down.
His cold stare returned to the Three-Leaf Lotus, recalling how she’d once clung to it, her hands bloodied but refusing to let go, terrified it would vanish.
Just an artifact.
His artifact, yet she’d held onto it even in the demon realm.
"If Wanci likes it, then keep it." He stroked her hair gently, lowering his lashes to hide the crimson in his eyes. "It’s just an artifact, after all."
Guiding her back onto the bed, his voice softened:
"You’ve just recovered from grave injuries. Rest well."
The crimson patterns in his eyes flared anew as the demonic energy around him thickened:
"When you wake, you’ll love me more. You’ll never leave me."
As Xu Wanci closed her eyes, he tapped her forehead lightly, coaxing:
"Anything else you’d like to say, Wanci?"
Her fingers curled around the Three-Leaf Lotus, sensing a faint glow in her consciousness. Her whisper was barely audible:
"Yan Shuo."
"I’m here."
"Would you look better... in blue?"
The room plunged into silence.
Outside, dozens of maple trees turned to ash in an instant, scattering into the wind.
Yan Shuo’s expression froze. The demonic energy around him writhed uncontrollably, yet not a wisp touched Xu Wanci on the bed.
After a long pause, he stood, his voice icy:
"No."
When Xu Wanci woke again, the surroundings were quiet.
Sensing the abundant spiritual energy within her, she glanced thoughtfully at the window.
Through the intricately carved jade lattice, the fiery red maples outside painted the sky.
Recalling her earlier conversation with Yan Shuo, she felt a flicker of reassurance.
Whether their relationship was real or not,
at least for now, he wouldn’t kill her.
As long as she was alive, that was enough.
She could take her time uncovering her past.
Surveying the empty room, she rose and stepped outside.
Dozens of maple trees greeted her, their crimson leaves dancing in the breeze before settling gracefully on the spirit-stone paved ground.
Beneath the largest tree,
a dark jade lounging chair stood beside an elegant yet opulent table set.
Xu Wanci’s gaze swept the scene before settling on the sky—still tinged red despite the glow of the luminous jade stones. A frown creased her brow, as if unaccustomed to the sight.
"The sky... shouldn't it be blue?"
Not far away, Yan Shuo caught her words, a shadow flickering in his eyes. He took a few steps forward, his unhurried footsteps prompting Xu Wanci to instinctively turn toward him.
"Yan Shuo."
Her voice carried a faint trace of distance, yet it inexplicably softened his gaze.
He glanced at the pale red sky before coolly averting his eyes. With a wave of his hand, a shattered spirit sword drifted through the wind and landed silently at Xu Wanci’s feet.
The blade exuded a biting chill, lowering the temperature around them.
Xu Wanci stared at the sword, an inexplicable sense of familiarity surging within her. She looked up at Yan Shuo, her eyes alight with delighted surprise, her voice brighter than before:
"Is this my spirit sword?"
Yan Shuo paused at the smile on her lips, his voice softening unconsciously:
"It is yours."
Xu Wanci gripped the hilt, her spiritual energy swirling as she swung the blade forward. A flurry of red maple leaves danced in the air before dissolving into crimson mist.
Yan Shuo stepped closer, his fingers grazing the fractured blade as he watched her lips curl unconsciously.
"This sword is broken. It will never manifest a sword spirit."
Seeing her joy over the weapon, his fingertips twitched, his voice laced with indulgent persuasion:
"I can find you a better spirit sword. One with a sword spirit, one that will serve you far better."
"Would you like that, Wanci?"
Xu Wanci didn’t hesitate. "No."
It was an instinct buried deep within her. Once she chose a path, once she chose a companion, she would walk it unwaveringly—without ever looking back.
She gazed at the Nine Heavens Sword in her hand, lifting her head to meet Yan Shuo’s eyes with resolve.
"If I have a spirit sword, I won’t seek another."
She transformed the Nine Heavens Sword into a bracelet, wrapping it around her wrist, her voice pure and clear:
"I’ll never abandon my partner."
Yan Shuo’s eyes darkened at her swift refusal.
Again... rejection.
Before him, she seemed to harbor no desires.
Except...
Why was it always that person she cared about?
He masked his thoughts effortlessly, stepping closer with a light chuckle.
"So Wanci is this loyal."
"At least I don’t have to worry about you casting me aside."
His fingers brushed through the hair cascading down her back, his voice lazy. "Or leaving me behind."
Xu Wanci stiffened imperceptibly at his touch.
She still wasn’t accustomed to Yan Shuo’s closeness.
At this moment, she grew even more doubtful of their relationship.
She looked up, her eyes brimming with genuine confusion.
"Aren’t we lovers?"
"Why would you think I’d leave you?"
Yan Shuo’s hand tightened slightly against the back of her head as he stared into her clear eyes—eyes that held only him.
"Fate is fickle."
"What would you do if I were injured?"
Xu Wanci tilted her head, puzzled by the question.
"Of course I’d heal you."
Yan Shuo rested his chin lightly on her shoulder, his gaze turbulent.
"And if I died?"
A strange emotion surged in Xu Wanci’s chest, a sorrow so sharp it made her heart ache.
It was as if, long ago, someone had left her—forever.
Her pulse slowed to a crawl.
Staring at the dark hair spilling over her shoulder, she lost control of her emotions for the first time, her voice heavy:
"Who curses themselves like that?"
Yan Shuo’s eyes flashed crimson.
"I’m a demon, not a human."
The demonic aura around him thickened.
"You haven’t answered me."
For some reason, Xu Wanci suddenly sensed a wintry chill emanating from Yan Shuo—cold and quiet, like the frost atop a silent peak. It made her want to lean closer, to answer every question he asked.
She blinked slowly, forcing herself to pull away from the inexplicable pull.
She didn’t know what answer he sought, but she could feel his insistence.
Her eyes clouded with hesitation and grief, her voice barely audible:
"What do you want me to do?"
"I’ll do it."
Yan Shuo laughed softly, but his eyes darkened like ink.
"Would you try to bring me back, Wanci?"
"Would you scour the immortal realm for even the slimmest hope?"
"Would you spend centuries searching, never pausing?"
Xu Wanci took a step back, evading his breath against her ear, but her mind wavered.
Would she?
Just how deep would love have to be for her to go that far?
Had she ever... been loved?
What did it feel like, to be loved?
She asked herself, but found only emptiness.
At the edge of that emptiness, a blue figure flickered past.
If someone had loved her deeply, if someone had been worth loving—why wouldn’t she?
A few hundred years of searching was nothing.
Wouldn’t a century with purpose pass faster than one adrift?
She gazed into the distance and whispered:
"I would."
She would.
Yan Shuo’s eyes shut abruptly.
He knew she meant it.
Once, she had done exactly that—chased a fleeting hope for a hundred years alone.
For a moment, he couldn’t tell if what he felt was joy... or envy.
Right now, was it really him she saw?
No matter.
From this day forward, the one Xu Wanci would defy the world for would be him.
Yes. Only him. Just him.
Yan Shuo opened his eyes, his smile laced with a hunger that chilled the soul.
Xu Wanci... his alone.
He pulled her into his arms, savoring her warmth as he murmured:
"To spare you the trouble, I’ll do my best to live a long life."
His grip around her waist tightened, as if he wanted to meld her into his very being, the darkness in his eyes overwhelming.
Xu Wanci felt the embrace, yet her heart remained unsettlingly calm.
Once again, she questioned what they were to each other.
Hesitantly, she circled her arms around his waist—but felt nothing. Only a faint revulsion.
This wasn’t right. They weren’t deeply in love.
Her body grew rigid.
Unnoticed by her, the crimson patterns in Yan Shuo’s eyes burned brighter.
Beneath the demon realm, all her emotions dissolved into silence.
Yan Shuo—he was hers...
But what exactly?
Under the falling maple leaves, black and red robes seemed to intertwine in an intimate dance.
Far beyond the distant horizon,
within the heart of the dispassionate Heavenly Dao,
a drop of ink quietly seeped in.
The once-clear surface of the lake began to ripple with spreading darkness.
Xiao Yuyan’s gaze fixed on Xu Wanci, more intense than mere focus—tinged with stubbornness.
This wasn’t how it should be.
The one standing beside her shouldn’t have been him.
It should’ve been...
He stood motionless, confusion lingering in his stillness, his fingertips brushing with a fleeting surge of Heavenly Dao’s power.
The god did not yet understand, yet desire and jealousy had already taken root.
In the shadows of the Dark Abyss Tower,
Ye Xing’s figure materialized abruptly beyond the gates.
He dared not lift his head—from the moment he appeared, his eyes remained riveted to the ground. Kneeling on one knee, his voice was reverent yet steady:
"Your Majesty, the three demonic abysses in the Far Eastern Sea of the demon realm have begun to tremble. Now they converge as one."
"Your judgment is awaited."
