Chapter 113

Ling Qingxiao was to depart in the coming days. Ye Zinan and Zou Jibai, without coordinating, both decided to tag along to gain experience. Even the Phoenix Queen began plotting—she wanted to send Feng Yuchen as well.
But Feng Yuchen was different.
Ye Zinan and the others already knew Ling Qingxiao, and their joining the journey felt natural. Feng Yujia, being close to Luo Han, merely had to mention it, and Luo Han agreed. And when she agreed—even Ling Qingxiao rarely said otherwise.
Feng Yuchen, however, was caught in an awkward place. He wasn’t close to Luo Han, nor did he dare speak directly to Ling Qingxiao. In the end, the Queen summoned Feng Yujia.
“I hear you’ll be accompanying the Immortal to the Eastern Sea,” the Queen said. “Perfect timing—Yuchen happens to be free. Take him along. Let him broaden his horizons. And if he can receive a few pointers from the Immortal along the way, even better.”
But after a long pause...Feng Yujia didn’t respond.
The Queen was surprised. In her eyes, Feng Yujia had always been obedient and well-mannered—not as charming as Yuchen, but sensible and dutiful. She had long felt a touch of guilt toward this daughter. The throne, after all, would be left to her son. All she could do was grant Feng Yujia a generous dowry and a glorious marriage, to make up for everything.
She never imagined Feng Yujia would say no.
In her mind, Feng Yujia had always been considerate, even helping to raise her brother. Surely, she’d be glad to support Yuchen?
But now, as the silence stretched, the Queen sensed something was amiss. Her smile faded.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
This was a family matter. Ling Qingxiao, Luo Han, and the others were not present. Only Feng Yujia, Feng Yuchen, and a few trusted attendants remained.
Suddenly, Feng Yujia stood. She lowered herself in formal salute. “Mother, I cannot agree to this.”
“This journey is not for sightseeing,” she continued. “Ling Qingxiao is seeking the Black Tortoise. It will be long and difficult. Feng Yuchen’s cultivation is shallow, and his foundation weak—he would only be a burden. Luo Han and Ling Qingxiao are too kind to speak up, but I cannot stand by and say nothing. I ask you to rescind your order.”
Everyone in the room was stunned.
The Queen’s face darkened. Her voice chilled. “Are you blaming me? Yuchen is still young. His cultivation will grow. He merely lacks guidance. If he travels with Ling Qingxiao, perhaps he’ll find his path.”
“Then please, Mother, tell that to the Immortal yourself,” Feng Yujia said firmly. “I will not be your messenger.”
“Impudent!” the Queen snapped, slamming her hand onto the table. Startled, the attendants rushed forward.
“Your Majesty, calm yourself! Princess, what are you saying? Quickly apologize!”
“I’ve long wanted to say this,” Feng Yujia declared. Though slender, she stood tall and straight, her voice unwavering. “By seniority, I am the eldest. By cultivation, I have reached the Third Realm; he has yet to manifest even his first tail feather. In governance, I’ve earned more merit, more acclaim, and served longer in court. So tell me—on what grounds does he get to inherit my achievements? On what grounds does he expect to reap where he has not sown?”
“You—” The Queen was speechless. She hadn’t expected such defiance and didn’t know whether to be angry or shocked.
“Yuchen has always been good to you. How can you say this? Is this how a sister should behave?”
“Mother,” Feng Yujia replied coolly, “if I were a man, would you say the same?”
“Because I’m a woman—because I’m the elder sister—I must sacrifice and pave the way for him? The world is not so simple. If he wants the throne, let him earn it. If he cannot prove his worth, then let us compete openly. Let the most capable inherit.”
Feng Yuchen stood frozen, dumbstruck. He had never imagined that his sister would oppose him.
He had always taken it for granted—that the throne, the inheritance, the future—all belonged to him. He thought their family was harmonious. Happy.
But in Feng Yujia’s eyes, things looked very different.
Saying these words lifted a great weight off her chest. Even the shadow of her inner demon seemed to fade. She bowed again, graceful and composed. “Since everything has been said, I will be direct—Mother, I intend to vie for the Phoenix throne. If you wish to give it to Feng Yuchen, then let him surpass me in strength or fame. But don’t expect me to yield out of duty. That will never happen.”
With those words, she turned and left.
Behind her, porcelain shattered against the ground.
Feng Yujia didn’t stop, she didn’t even look back.
She had just stepped into the corridor when a voice suddenly called out from behind.
“Jiejie, why did you say those things?” Feng Yuchen hurried to catch up, his expression full of disbelief.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Feng Yujia turned to face him calmly. “Why is it acceptable for you to be Crown Prince, but not for me to be Queen? We are both born of royal blood, both rightful heirs. Then let us compete fairly—may the most capable win.”
Her words hit him like a thunderclap. Feng Yuchen looked at her as though seeing a stranger. This wasn’t the kind, gentle sister he’d always known. Disappointment filled his voice as he shook his head. “I...I’m really disappointed in you.”
Feng Yujia gave a soft laugh. “And what gives you the right to be disappointed in me? The only thing you have over me is your gender. But the Phoenix clan has no rule forbidding women from ascending the throne—Mother is the Queen herself. Why, then, can’t I be?”
Feng Yuchen opened his mouth to refute her, but his mind was in chaos. After a long pause, all he managed was, “But I’ve always treated you well. I’ve always shared the best things with you. Don’t you think you’re being unfair to me?”
“You treated me well because you never saw me as a threat. To you, I was just the sister who stayed quietly in the palace, a burden to be married off with a generous dowry. Of course you could afford to be generous. But I don’t need your favors. I am the eldest, I’m stronger, I’ve worked harder, and I’m more respected. I have the right to contend for the throne and everything that comes with it.”
She held his gaze for a moment, then said quietly, “Little brother, it’s time for you to put in the effort. Don’t rely on Mother’s favoritism and expect the world to fall into your lap. From now on, let strength do the talking.”
—
On the black waters of the Qi River, a shadowy boat glided silently downstream. Inside the cabin, Ye Zhongyu and Su Yinyue huddled together in silence, making their way toward the border.
Qi River marked the edge of the Immortal and Demon realms. Though the Celestial Court forbade all private contact with the Demonic Domain, wherever there was profit, there were always those willing to take the risk. Black-market smugglers along the border had operated for centuries. As long as you could pay, someone would get you across.
This vessel was one of them.
Ling Qingxiao’s ascension had provided the perfect distraction. Ye Zhongyu and Su Yinyue used the chaos to slip away. Their journey had been harrowing—rushed, exhausting, and full of danger. Su Yinyue’s health was already fragile, and the constant fleeing had only made it worse. She lay unconscious on the narrow bed, coughing fitfully in her fevered sleep.
Ye Zhongyu sat in the damp, cramped cabin, staring blankly into the darkness.
Was this really his fate?
He had once lived a life of unimaginable luxury—fine robes, feasts, sprawling estates. Anything he desired would appear at his feet. And now...he was crammed into a moldy, rotting ship’s hold, unable to even stretch his legs. Behind him, Su Yinyue’s coughs echoed weakly—but he didn’t even have medicine to offer her.
How had it come to this? He had a future once. A glorious one.
And it had all been taken from him—by Ling Qingxiao.
Ye Zhongyu sat there for a long time. Slowly, his vacant eyes began to sharpen with grim resolve. He already knew that the so-called “ancient powerhouse” he’d met wasn’t some benevolent old man bestowing him with fortune—it was the Demon God.
And he knew: if the Demon God passed down a cultivation method, it was definitely not out of kindness.
But what did it matter? He had no other choice.
He pulled out the technique the Demon God had branded into his spiritual sea. Back then, everything had been rushed. The Demon God only passed him half a scroll—and even that was damaged and incomplete. The technique was riddled with archaic characters, ancient phrasing he could barely comprehend. He struggled to make sense of it, stumbling through each line.
There was no master to guide him. He could easily go astray, lose his mind, or worse.
But Ye Zhongyu was convinced: he was different. Others might fall into madness.
But he would stumble into greatness.
As dawn approached, a drunken man staggered past the boat, shouting vulgarities. Ye Zhongyu recognized him. This gang had humiliated him more than once.
He opened his eyes. A faint red glow shimmered in his pupils—unearthly and demonic.
The Demon God fed on devouring, and devouring was far faster than hard work.
—
Luo Han had no idea what had transpired within the Phoenix royal court. The undercurrents of palace politics never reached her. She had quickly packed her things and set out for the Eastern Sea.
She’d planned to seek out the Bodhi Tree for answers—but now that Ling Qingxiao was heading to consult the Black Tortoise, she figured they were headed the same way. If they could learn what they needed from Xuan, she wouldn’t need to chase a tree that might not even be anywhere near.
The Tortoise’s location was known. The Bodhi Tree...who could say?
Wuzhou was a warm and humid inland region. The Eastern Sea lay at the farthest eastern edge of the world. Even aboard the fastest spirit vessel, traveling at full speed, it took them five full months to reach it.
Luo Han stood at the ship’s railing, staring at the endless stretch of blue before them.
“The Eastern Sea is massive. How are we supposed to find the Black Tortoise?” she asked.
Feng Yujia shook her head. “The sea and the land rarely interfere with one another. The Tortoise is revered as an ancestral spirit in the Eastern Sea—his prestige runs deep. Unless we consult the native sea clans, I doubt we’ll find him on our own.”
The seas were vast and full of danger. Even with their strength, diving into the unknown without a guide would be reckless at best.
Luo Han sighed. Just then, a line of islands began to appear on the distant horizon. After a month of flying over nothing but water, the sudden sight of land filled her with joy.
“Land! I see islands ahead—where are we?”
Feng Yujia pulled out a map to check, but before she could speak, a voice answered from behind.
“Thousand-Mile Silver Sands.”
She turned, startled. Ling Qingxiao had arrived.
Feng Yujia gave him a polite nod and took her leave. Soon, only Luo Han and Ling Qingxiao remained on deck.
Ever since his ascension, there had been something strange between them. A tension neither of them addressed. The incident with the inner demon had created a rift—one that had never fully closed. Ling Qingxiao had never explained where he went that night. Luo Han hadn’t asked.
And so, the silence between them had grown heavier with each passing day.
Luo Han didn’t doubt him—not truly—but concealment was a serious matter. They had a long future ahead. If they couldn’t overcome this, what would they do when faced with greater trials?
She wanted to talk it through, to open her heart—but she didn’t know how to begin.
With so much left unsaid, even standing side by side felt awkward. So Luo Han made a quiet decision:
She would wait until her heart was clear. Until then, it might be best if they kept their distance.
The flying vessel wasn’t exactly spacious—how could Ling Qingxiao not notice that Luo Han was avoiding him?
It felt like watching a nightmare slowly unfold, each moment dragging them closer to the future he feared most. He couldn’t sit idly by any longer. He came to find her.
Luo Han hadn’t expected to see him, and for a second she froze. But she still smiled as she asked, “What is Thousand-Mile Silver Sands?”
Communication—true, open communication—was the most important thing between lovers. Even if there was a rift between them now, she had to be calm and kind. No matter how tense the situation, emotions must never be used as weapons. What felt like a moment of anger to one could leave a lasting wound on the other.
Luo Han didn’t want to hurt what they had. Their bond hadn’t come easily.
So even though there was distance between them, she would face it, not run from it. Problems existed to be solved—not to be buried in silence.
Seeing her smile as usual, Ling Qingxiao felt the storm within him begin to still.
“It’s the name of the islands ahead,” he explained. “There are special corals in these waters, and over the years, the sand has absorbed silvery minerals. At night, the beaches glow faintly under the moonlight. Since the islands stretch for miles, they’re collectively called the Thousand-Mile Silver Sands.”
“Thousand-Mile Silver Sands...” Luo Han echoed softly, then murmured, “That’s a beautiful name.”
As the flying vessel began to descend, Ling Qingxiao said, “If you like it, let’s rest here for a few days. The islands may be small, but their internal strife isn’t. Every few islets form their own factions. Among them, the most powerful is the Kingdom of East Sand. We’ll go there directly.”
He had no interest in entangling himself in the petty squabbles of the archipelago. He chose the strongest and most stable kingdom on purpose—to avoid unnecessary trouble.
When the King of East Sand received word that the Master of Zhongshan, a princess of the Phoenix Clan, and the heir of the Vermilion Bird Clan were arriving, he was stunned into silence for several moments before scrambling to greet them.
Upon seeing Ling Qingxiao, the king’s face lit with a mixture of awe and panic. “Patriarch Ling? Forgive my slow welcome—this humble one has failed in courtesy!”
Though East Sand was called a kingdom, it was just a small island nation—not even in the same league as Zhongshan or Wuzhou. While Feng Yujia and Ye Zinan were still “princess” and “heir,” Ling Qingxiao now held true power as the head of his lineage. For a minor king to refer to himself as “subject” in his presence was not unjustified.
Ling Qingxiao gave a slight nod. “We’ve come to the Eastern Sea to seek the Black Tortoise. Passing through your lands, we’ll stay here a few days. We prefer to keep a low profile. There’s no need for a grand reception.”
“Of course, of course.” The king nodded rapidly, eager to flatter. “Patriarch Ling, the tale of your ascension to celestial rank at a mere thousand years of age has even reached our shores. You are truly a peerless genius. I admire you greatly!”
Ye Zinan, standing nearby, raised a brow and corrected him, “He’s not a Celestial anymore.”
“Eh?” The king blinked. “He isn’t?”
“No.” Ye Zinan smiled cruelly, dragging the king further into despair. “He ascended to True Immortal just a few days ago. You’ll want to address him properly—from now on, he’s Immortal Lord Ling.”
The king stood there, slack-jawed in disbelief.
The islanders were a traditional people. As they were escorted in, the women—Luo Han and Feng Yujia—were received by the queen, a gentle woman with a delicate appearance and simple clothing, far less adorned than the consorts around her.
She greeted them with a proper salute. “Welcome, honored guests. Forgive us for not receiving you sooner.”
Before she could finish, one of the favored concubines interrupted smugly, “The queen is in poor health. She should be resting. I shall take care of our guests instead.”
The queen’s words were cut off, and she had no strength to argue. She lowered her head and silently endured.
Luo Han exchanged a look with Feng Yujia, wordless. Palace drama, no matter how vicious, was none of their concern. To them, the only difference in guides was who walked ahead.
Without delay, they were shown to their quarters.
On the sea-blown island, with scarce resources, most homes were built from stone. Luo Han had a room on the upper floor, and when she pushed open the window, she was met with the view of the beach, tidepools, and foaming waves crashing against jagged rocks.
This was her first time living so close to the ocean. Each wave echoed in her ears, again and again, until her heart slowly calmed.
She stared out at the sea, momentarily lost in thought. Then suddenly—she felt a shift in the air behind her. Before she could turn around, arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind.
“Are you angry?”
Ling Qingxiao’s chin rested in her hair. That unexpected fragility from someone so powerful—Luo Han had no defenses against it. She hesitated, then said softly, “No.”
“Then...have you changed your mind? Do you regret staying with me?”
“Of course not.” She sighed. “What are you trying to say?”
“I want us to make up.”