Chapter 129

The moment Ling Qingxiao asked the question, he froze. Why had he said something so...undignified?
Surely he wasn’t the only person with a good memory or a broad intellect. Why did he feel the need to compare? In the past, whenever people sang praises of their sons or nephews in front of him, he’d merely smile and let it pass. So why now...this inexplicable need to win?
What was he trying to prove?
Luo Han was too lost in memory to notice. She was thinking about those days traveling with Ling Qingxiao, and the warmth of it made her smile. “He’s the only person I’ve ever met who truly deserves the praise ‘young and accomplished.’ He might be a thousand years old...or fifteen hundred, depending on how you count it. Since I came here, I’ve met all kinds: schemers, cowards, men who wear false virtue like armor. But out of everyone I’ve seen, the only one I truly admire...is him.”
Ling Qingxiao, who had just been scolding himself for being petty, now found his entire mindset unraveling.
Young and accomplished. Admiration. The only one. He suddenly didn’t feel like speaking.
But Luo Han had already opened the floodgates. “At first, I didn’t trust him. I was cautious. I even made up some ridiculous rule to bind him to me. But he never once broke his word. He always protected me, even when it meant putting himself at risk. Every time danger came, he’d shield me without hesitation. Honestly...if it were me, I don’t know if I could have done the same.”
Her voice softened. “But he could. I often think...in this lifetime, no one else could treat me the way he did.”
Ling Qingxiao said nothing.
Luo Han claimed she couldn’t do what he did—but from where he stood, watching her now, he wasn’t so sure. Everyone shows love in their own way. It doesn’t always have to be blades and blood. Doesn’t always need to be life-for-life.
Ling Qingxiao could sense it, her feelings for that other man were like a slow, steady stream, soft yet ceaseless. Gentle, unwavering, like water. They lacked the fiery intensity of a raging tide, but this kind of love, quiet, enduring, was far more grounded. More whole.
If both people burned too bright, they’d only end up consumed.
He stood there for a long time, silent, feeling a little ridiculous for his earlier thoughts. What would proving himself even accomplish? In her heart, that person, whoever he was, would always be the best.
Ling Qingxiao found himself...envious. He didn’t know who the man was, but to be trusted and longed for so deeply by Luo Han, what a blessing.
When she spoke of him, her eyes sparkled, her face lit with unhidden joy. And Ling Qingxiao, looking back on his own life, could not recall a single person who had ever looked at him like that. No one had ever waited for him. No one had cared if he ate or slept.
By worldly standards, his life was a triumph: born with talent, risen to the top, crowned as emperor. But his father had scorned him from birth. After his true heritage was revealed, his mother had refused to acknowledge him. The sect elders, his senior brothers and sisters, even his teachers, none had ever truly cared for him. To them, he had always been a symbol, not a person.
As a student, he was exemplary. As a courtier, impeccable. When he became Emperor, he became the perfect ruler. He survived by being good and that was, in its own way, deeply tragic.
He remained quiet all the way to the door. Then, just before leaving, he said, “Rest well tonight. Tomorrow morning, we head to the Pavilion of Euphoria.”
“Huh?” Luo Han blinked. “So soon?”
“There’s no need to delay,” he said coolly. “The sooner we deal with the ancient forbidden technique, the sooner you can return to your fiance. He’s probably worried, not hearing from you for so long.”
Luo Han was surprised. She had been eager to return, of course, but she hadn’t expected him to bring it up first. Part of her desperately wanted to tell him that the person she was trying so hard to find...was him.
But she had fallen into the chaos of the Celestial-Demonic War, slipped through time, and been thrown back again. What even was the present anymore? Could she still speak of past and future as if they followed rules?
If she told him now, told him everything, it might trigger a violation of the laws of causality. A single word could unravel the fabric of space and time. Layer upon layer of temporal law could collide, sparking a butterfly effect that might change everything.
Her lips parted, but in the end, she said nothing. She simply smiled and reassured him gently, “Thank you. But don’t worry, someday, someone will come along who’ll walk through life with you, through joy and hardship alike.”
Ling Qingxiao gave a faint smile. “Thank you.”
But inwardly, he didn’t believe a word of it.
He returned to his study and resumed work on the backlog of memorials. Perhaps he’d been pushing himself too hard lately, his vision was beginning to blur.
He pressed his fingertips to his brow, reaching for a cup of tea to clear his mind. But when the rim touched his lips, he paused. The taste was wrong.
It wasn’t tea, it was spirit-infused elixir, meant to nourish the soul and calm the nerves.
The palace attendants wouldn’t have dared to change it on their own. There was only one person who could’ve given that order: Luo Han.
He stared down at the porcelain cup in his hand, his expression growing unreadable. The guards had gone too far in listening to her. He had been using the same tea blend for thousands of years, she said to change it, and they actually obeyed?
But in the end, could he really blame them? This kind of thing only happened because of his attitude. Because he had been too lenient with her.
Ling Qingxiao sighed. He had never been the kind of person others could approach easily. In truth, he was deeply guarded. He had been Emperor for four thousand years, long enough to forget what true companionship even felt like.
And yet Luo Han had barged in, like sunlight streaming into a sealed room. No hesitation, no fear. She had made a mess of his world, completely disregarding its cold, orderly structure.
Why wasn’t she afraid of him? And why...couldn’t he push her away?
Thoughts crowded his mind. With no answers, he set the cup aside, intending to focus on work.
Yet moments later, almost involuntarily, he picked it up again and took a sip. It was subtle. Light. Faintly sweet with a gentle tea aroma, exactly to his taste.
Ling Qingxiao stared into the cup, dazed. Then a teasing voice echoed in his ears:
“You don’t eat sweet, don’t eat sour, don’t eat bitter or spicy—what do you even eat? You’ve got the palate of an old man!”
Who...had said that?
Maybe it was the elixir, but after finishing only two memorials, he found himself nodding off at the desk. He dreamt again. This time, the details were clearer than ever.
He stood in the middle of a bustling city, surrounded by masked revelers. The world throbbed with music and laughter. He glanced down, beside him stood a girl with fuzzy ears atop her head. On impulse, he reached out and pinched one.
She looked up at him, eyes luminous, reflecting the lantern light around them like stardust painted in ink. The dream shifted.
They were in a snowy pavilion again. The scene was even more vivid than before, he saw himself holding someone’s hand, coaxing a smear of ink into the shape of a mythical beast, then sketching the sky, the lake, the bare trees, and the falling snow.
A girl’s voice whispered in his ear:
“What if I don’t want to get married? What if I just want to live wild and free for the rest of my life?”
He could feel himself resisting the idea. But in the end, he gave in, and said through gritted teeth, “Fine.”
The girl laughed, then asked again:
“Then what if I leave this timeline...and go to another world entirely?”
The dream shattered. A violent burst of spiritual energy exploded outward.
Ling Qingxiao jerked awake.
The cup in his hand had been reduced to shards. His spiritual energy had lashed out, embedding jagged ice spikes in the windows, the bookshelf, even the folding screen.
He blinked in shock, then waved a hand to melt it all away. This hadn’t happened since the earliest days of his cultivation—back when he couldn’t yet control his own cold-attribute spiritual force. But now? After millennia of mastery? What could’ve triggered such a loss of control?
The burst had only lasted a moment, and he’d reined it in instantly. But even so, outside, the clouds he had disturbed were already weeping torrential rain.
Footsteps sounded in the storm. His personal guards rushed over and stopped outside the door, tense.
“Your Majesty,” they called. “Is everything all right?”
“No issue,” Ling Qingxiao said coolly. “I was just cultivating and momentarily forgot where I was.”
Hearing that their Emperor was unharmed, the guards let out a collective breath of relief. Ling Qingxiao paused, then asked, “Where is she?”
The guards didn’t need clarification to know whom he meant. “Miss Luo is in her room. She hasn’t come out.”
Ling Qingxiao knew she was likely fine, but still, he wanted to see for himself. He rose, pushed open the door, and said to the soldiers bowing outside, “I’m fine. You may go.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Once dismissed, he walked without pause toward Luo Han’s quarters. The rain roared around him, cold wind lashing against his face. With each step, his mind grew clearer.
He hadn’t noticed it in the dream, but now, awake and detached, he could easily recognize the scenes: the first had been the Ten Thousand Beasts Festival in Da Ming City, and the second, the snow-draped pavilion in Lingjiang City.
Luo Han had mentioned both of those places just recently. And then, he had dreamed of them.
Coincidence?
As he neared her room, he saw the light inside was still on, but the window had been left open. Ling Qingxiao stood silently outside and saw her asleep at the table, slumped over papers. The wind had blown in, scattering the pages with sharp rustling noises, and a few raindrops had already dampened her sleeve.
Ling Qingxiao sighed softly. How did she manage to fall asleep like that? In such heavy rain...wasn’t she afraid of catching cold?
He didn’t knock. Instead, he phased straight through the wall and approached her side silently. He meant to lift her and lay her properly in bed, but as he leaned down, he suddenly froze.
Half-hidden beneath her sleeve was a painting, clearly the last thing she’d been looking at before she dozed off.
Ink strokes, soft and light. The world was pale and tranquil. In the water frolicked a plump, round black sheep. By the pavilion’s edge, a man and a woman sat side by side, their robes entwined by the breeze. Their faces weren’t fully drawn, yet their beauty still shone through the outline.
Ling Qingxiao was stunned.
This scene...the weather, the setting, even the smallest details, it was the exact scene from his dream. He had dreamed of sketching such a picture while holding someone’s hand, and now, that very painting was lying under Luo Han’s arm.
What did this mean?
He gently lifted the sleeve to look more closely, but just as he moved, Luo Han stirred, she looked like she was about to wake. Ling Qingxiao withdrew his hand quickly. In his haste, his sleeve brushed against something and knocked it from the table.
He reacted instantly, catching it midair with a flick of spiritual power. A memory stone.
He was just about to set it back when Luo Han opened her eyes.
She blinked groggily, sensing someone nearby, and looked up in confusion. She stared at Ling Qingxiao, disoriented for a long moment, unsure of who she was seeing.
Ling Qingxiao had intended to return the memory stone and casually explain that he’d knocked it over. But when he met her eyes, something made him pause.
Who was she seeing...in that gaze? Who was the fiance she kept mentioning?
Ling Qingxiao’s fingers twitched. A thought surfaced—dark and petty, the sort of idea that had never crossed his mind before.
She slept with the memory stone by her side. That alone proved how important it was to her. If he activated it...wouldn’t he see the face of the man she couldn’t stop thinking about?
He hesitated.
But by then, Luo Han had shaken off her drowsiness. She pressed her sleeve down over the painting casually, and with practiced ease, rolled up the scroll and tucked it away. “Your Majesty, what brings you here?”
Ling Qingxiao noticed the subtle deflection. She clearly didn’t want him to see that painting.
He studied her for a moment, then, with a faint flicker of spiritual light, vanished the memory stone from his palm. He stepped back, feigning indifference, and said as if nothing had happened, “It’s raining. I saw your window was still open, so I came to remind you. What were you reading that you fell asleep like this?”
Luo Han smiled lightly, careful not to betray anything. “Nothing important. Just leafing through a book. Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.”
Ling Qingxiao didn’t miss the evasiveness in her answer. It wasn’t just about the painting, she was clearly hiding something.
Still, he let it go. His eyes narrowed briefly, then he smiled and said, “Good. Then rest well. Don’t forget to close the window.”
Luo Han nodded and watched him leave. Once he was gone, she let out a long sigh and rubbed her brow, still shaken. “How did I fall asleep like that? Thank goodness I woke up in time...If he’d seen anything, it would’ve been a disaster.”
She looked around the table, frowning slightly. Something felt off.
“Wasn’t there...something else here?” she murmured. “I could’ve sworn I had something out before I fell asleep…”
—
Back in his room, Ling Qingxiao stood before his mountain of untouched memorials and suddenly felt no desire to deal with any of it. It had been a long time since he’d felt this...restless.
He paced a few times, then stopped by the window and stared silently at the downpour outside. Rain splashed against his sleeves, icy and sharp.
Then a thought struck him, bizarre and absurd, but impossible to ignore. Those mysterious dreams, the painting, her words about someone with perfect recall and vast knowledge…
Was it him? All he had to do was activate the memory stone to know for certain. He looked down at the object in his hand.
It wasn’t moral constraint that held him back. Morality was a luxury most emperors abandoned long ago.
No, what truly stopped him was something else, something buried deeper.
If it wasn’t him...what then? And if it was him, what good would it do?
In the end, she would still leave. She belonged to another time, another world. No matter how close she stood, she was destined to walk away.
There was no answer to this dilemma. In comparison...perhaps it was easier not to know.
He stood at the window for a long time, the storm raging on. Finally, he placed the memory stone back into his storage ring, untouched.
—
The next day, Luo Han veiled herself and headed to Jile Tower to purchase information.
Wuyou City, known for its deadly trade, was split into two factions: Jile Tower and Wuyou Pavilion. The former dealt in information, selling, receiving, and placing assassination contracts while the latter was a pure den of killers.
The city prided itself on a chilling motto: “If the price is right, there is no one under the heavens we cannot kill.”
From the outside, Jile Tower appeared to be a lavish teahouse, crimson drapes, perfumed air, and the sound of music drifting on silk-threaded laughter. But the moment she stepped through the doors, Luo Han knew: this was no teahouse.
Smiling dancers leaned against the doorframe, their beauty disarming, but at their waists hung gleaming curved daggers. Even the server boys had thick calluses on their palms—hands trained for far more than carrying dishes.
It was Luo Han’s first time in such a place, and the moment she entered, she could feel dozens of gazes sweeping toward them. She paused, lifting a hand to adjust the veil on her head.
Ling Qingxiao noticed her discomfort and said, “If you’d rather not be here, I can have someone escort you back.”
She shook her head. “No need. But...why is everyone staring at us?”
Ling Qingxiao gave a faint hum. “They’re probably looking at me.”
At first, Luo Han didn’t quite follow. But as she walked past the entry archway and looked up, she froze.
A giant glowing screen hovered above the main hall, listing names and numbers in ornate golden script. At the very top, Ling Qingxiao followed by a string of astronomical figures.
Luo Han stared blankly, then gasped in realization. “Is that…?”
“As you see,” Ling Qingxiao said calmly. “It’s the bounty board.”
“You mean…” She faltered, pointing at the top name in disbelief. “You’re...number one?”
“Correct.” He sounded completely indifferent. “Wuyou City accepts all business. There are far more people in the Six Realms who want me dead than want the Demon King killed.”
Luo Han was stunned. No wonder the officials in the Heavenly Palace had looked so grim when they saw him off. He was the number one bounty target in Wuyou City by a landslide, and still dared to walk into the city alone. She didn’t know whether to admire his courage or question his sanity.
It took her a long moment to collect herself. “No wonder so many people turned when we walked in…”
They were staring at the sky-high bounty on his head!
Ling Qingxiao seemed entirely unbothered by the stares and led her upstairs. Just as they reached the stairway, Jile Tower’s steward came out to greet them.
The steward’s eyes lit up with eager surprise when he saw Ling Qingxiao. “Well, well, His Majesty the Celestial Emperor himself. What an unexpected honor. And this young lady…?”
He looked at Luo Han with great interest. The famously ascetic emperor, who was said to avoid women like the plague, now had one at his side, veiled, no less and shielded with such care. Naturally, people were bound to speculate.
Who exactly was this woman?
Ling Qingxiao’s expression didn’t shift. He stepped slightly to block Luo Han with his sleeve. A faint wave of pressure pushed the steward back a step.
The steward quickly withdrew his gaze and smiled, stepping aside respectfully. “The Jile Tower is deeply honored by His Majesty’s presence. Please, this way.”
Ling Qingxiao gave him a cold glance, withdrew his pressure, then turned to Luo Han. “Let’s go.”
They entered a private room, lavishly decorated, every corner glimmering with gold. The steward served tea and gestured politely. “Please, Your Majesty, be seated.”
“No need.” Ling Qingxiao stood tall, arms behind his back, and said coolly, “I’ve only one request. After Yun Menghan fell from the cliff, I want every movement of Ye Zhongyu tracked until today.”
“So this is about the Demon King.” The steward’s smile didn’t falter, but a glint of sharpness flashed through his eyes. “His whereabouts won’t come cheap.”
“Price is no issue,” Ling Qingxiao replied smoothly. “As long as the information is real, name your cost.”
“Your Majesty truly lives up to your reputation!” The steward chuckled, then, without warning, dropped the smile and attacked.
“It’s just that in our line of work, we go by order of request,” he said, striking without warning. “And someone has already paid handsomely for your life!”
The transformation was swift and deadly, he didn’t even bother to wait until they left the tower. Luo Han immediately gathered spiritual light in her hand, but before she could move, Ling Qingxiao flicked his sleeve, sending the steward flying.
The man crashed through several walls and splintered a railing before plunging into the hall below. A stunned hush fell over the entire building.
Someone rushed forward to check for signs of life. Moments later, they looked up and reported, “The steward is dead.”
But in the great hall, no one reacted. The women continued plucking their lutes, guests kept sipping their wine, no one batted an eye. Even with a corpse at their feet, the mood didn’t shift.
Ling Qingxiao stood calmly at the broken railing of the second floor, his hands clasped behind his back. “Master of Wuyou City,” he said evenly, “can we talk business now?”
Silence reigned for a beat, then, from the third floor, a masked figure stepped out. A person with a woman’s frame, but a distinctly male voice.
“Wuyou City is open to all trades. We serve the highest bidder,” the figure said. “If Your Majesty wishes to make use of our services, we’re happy to accommodate.”
Luo Han still held an attack stance, but seeing their attacker already dead, she slowly withdrew her spiritual energy and stepped back behind Ling Qingxiao.
That masked figure on the third floor...that must be the elusive master of Wuyou City.
Oddly, their form looked female, but the voice was unmistakably male. So which was it?
Throughout the negotiation, Luo Han kept a careful eye on the figure, but by the time she left the tower, she still hadn’t figured out their true gender.
Even for Wuyou City, tracking the Demon King wasn’t easy. They needed time. The city master and Ling Qingxiao finalized a delivery date, and Ling Qingxiao paid half the fee on the spot.
As they exited the tower, Luo Han let out a heartfelt sigh. “Wuyou City’s methods really are...extraordinary.”
The steward had attacked without a word, and Ling Qingxiao had killed him without hesitation. A man had just fallen dead from the upper floor, yet the guests had barely blinked. Even the city master hadn’t shown the slightest trace of grief.
Truly, Wuyou City was...one of a kind.
Ling Qingxiao seemed unsurprised. “That’s the trouble with this place. Every time I come, they insist on testing me before they behave. I’ve told them, they can’t kill me. Pity no one listens.”
Luo Han remained silent.
Ling Qingxiao had been walking for a while when he noticed her unusually quiet demeanor. He turned back with a slight frown. “What’s wrong?”
“I just realized,” Luo Han said slowly, “I never asked about your life all these years. I’ve talked so much about my journeys with him...but never once did I ask you. Have you been well?”
Ling Qingxiao was truly caught off guard.
He was long used to others seeking his wisdom, his favor, his assistance, never had anyone asked how he had been. The question was so unfamiliar, so out of place in his world, that it felt almost...surreal.
He collected himself quickly, his expression calm. “As the Celestial Emperor, naturally everything is well.”
Luo Han didn’t believe a single word of it.
She stared at him, unwavering. “I don’t believe you.”
“As you wish,” Ling Qingxiao replied indifferently. But then his eyes sharpened as he turned to her, a trace of scrutiny flickering beneath the surface. “You have a fiance. Why concern yourself with me?”
Luo Han choked for a second, she had not expected that.
After a pause, she composed herself and said, “First of all, he’s not my fiance. Second, is it wrong to show concern for an ally? We’re partners, aren’t we?”
But Ling Qingxiao seemed fixated on the first part. “Not your fiance?”
“That’s right,” Luo Han said, throwing him a sidelong glance. “Who told you I ever agreed?”
Ling Qingxiao was momentarily speechless. So after all that...she never even accepted the proposal? Pathetic.
Luo Han added, leisurely, “Besides, wasn’t it you who once told me I was still young, that I should focus on studying and not rush into marriage? In case I got tricked by a sweet-talking scoundrel? I thought your advice was quite reasonable. So, I’ve decided to follow it.”
Ling Qingxiao was utterly at a loss for words.
A subtle unease stirred in him, and without thinking, he asked, “Do I...know him?”
“Who?”
“The one you have feelings for.”