Chapter 130

Luo Han could feel Ling Qingxiao’s gaze on her, sharp and unrelenting, laced with scrutiny, maybe even pressure.
He really wasn’t the same man anymore.
Before the Great War, he had been distant, composed, never one to force another’s hand. Even after returning from that battle, with his new political sharpness and carefully veiled intentions, he had never looked at her like this.
It was true, after all. A ruler, no matter how refined his manner, was still, at his core, someone used to absolute control.
That only made Luo Han more cautious. She had a gut feeling that the Ling Qingxiao of four thousand years ago might have been swayed by her whims, indulged her mischief, tolerated her nonsense, but the man standing before her now would not.
She hesitated, then replied vaguely, “I don’t think you do.”
Ling Qingxiao stared at her. “You’re sure? You know lying invites karmic backlash. Are you really willing to lie to me?”
Luo Han clenched her jaw but held firm. “I’m sure.”
“…Good.” Ling Qingxiao nodded slowly. “That’s for the best.”
She was the one who claimed he didn’t know the man. If it turned out to be a lie, well, she couldn’t blame him for whatever came next.
The words sounded innocuous, but they made Luo Han want to wipe the sweat from her brow. She stole a glance at Ling Qingxiao through her veil. Why was he asking such pointed questions all of a sudden? Had he discovered something?
Ling Qingxiao allowed her to observe him, his composure was too deep for a mere girl like her to see through.
After walking in silence for a while, Luo Han felt that the tension was growing, so she shifted the subject. “When will Wuyou City finish gathering the information?”
“Roughly half a month,” Ling Qingxiao said. “But there’s no need to worry. Though the Wuyou Lord’s hands are stained, his business reputation is solid. If he takes a job, he always delivers on time.”
Luo Han nodded lightly in acknowledgment. After a moment’s thought, she asked, “So...do you have anything planned over the next half-month?”
Instead of answering, Ling Qingxiao asked, “Why? What are you thinking?”
Of course, he had matters to attend to. A million troops still waited for his return at the front. The Heavenly Court was buried under a mountain of state affairs. There was never a day when he truly had nothing to do.
“I was thinking,” Luo Han said, “since we’ve got time, why don’t we visit the Wu Tribe’s village? We’ll need their blood to break the seal eventually. Maybe we’ll uncover something there.”
She trailed off, belatedly remembering that Ling Qingxiao was now the Celestial Emperor, presumably very busy. Her voice softened. “Unless...you’re in a hurry to return?”
Ling Qingxiao paused only a moment. “I’m not.”
When this decision reached the Heavenly Court, the ministers fell into collective silence. What was wrong with their emperor?
When he made an unplanned trip to Wuyou City, they could at least comfort themselves by saying he was gathering intelligence. But now...now he was heading to the Great Wilderness? Had he forgotten there was still a war on the front lines?
Their emperor, so disciplined for four thousand years, why was he suddenly so...unorthodox?
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Ye Zhongyu was growing increasingly restless. Ling Qingxiao hadn’t shown up in days. According to scouts, he wasn’t even in the camp anymore.
Weren’t they in the middle of a war? Where the hell was the opposing general?
Ye Zhongyu didn’t believe for a second that Ling Qingxiao had simply left. No, he was likely preparing something bigger. A surprise attack? A trap?
So Ye Zhongyu increased his defenses, kept his troops on high alert, and waited every day convinced that an ambush was imminent. Days passed. The other side remained still.
The tension kept Ye Zhongyu up at night. Paranoia bloomed. Was Ling Qingxiao planning something massive?
Meanwhile, Yun Menghan, already feeling neglected after being ignored for days, grew increasingly frustrated. With Ye Zhongyu busy holding endless war councils, she hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever.
Then, the Wu Tribe’s annual day of worship arrived. The High Priest was returning to the ancestral village for the ritual, and in a fit of wounded pride, Yun Menghan decided to go with him without informing Ye Zhongyu.
The Wu Tribe’s village lay deep in the eastern part, a place lost between realm, neither wholly within the Immortal Realm, nor truly in the Demon Realm.
As they approached, the land grew desolate. Villages gave way to wilderness, paths to overgrowth. At last, they reached their destination. The High Priest lifted the barrier, and they followed an underground river into the forbidden land.
Once a hidden paradise, the village was now nothing but a graveyard.
A fine drizzle fell from the sky as the High Priest stepped into the ruins of his homeland, and the solemn weight on his face deepened with every step. Yun Menghan followed quietly, not daring to disturb him. The houses on either side still stood as they once had, but inside there would never again be the laughter of villagers.
Yun Menghan’s heart ached as she looked around. The villagers had taken her in; she’d spent the most peaceful days since leaving Zhongshan here in this village. Now, the place remained but the people did not. She thought of the bright-eyed, naive girl Xiaoli, of the kind old woman who gave her shelter, of the honest, generous villagers. She sighed. “High Priest, I’m sorry for your loss. Xiaoli, the old woman...wherever they are, I’m sure they’d want you to keep living well.”
But the High Priest slowly shook his head. “I was the one charged with their protection. Yet when the slaughter came, I wasn’t here. That failure is mine alone. The gods will not forgive me, and I dare not seek mercy from Nuwa. In this life, I have only one wish: to find the one who did this and take their life with my own hands.”
This was the only thing that kept him going.
Yun Menghan could only mutter dryly, “They wouldn’t blame you. Living well is the greatest comfort you can offer the dead.”
The High Priest said nothing. People could never truly feel each other’s pain. Yun Menghan had not grown up here, she hadn’t watched her tribe wiped out. How could she possibly understand?
Not wanting to vent his grief on her, he said, “Let’s not speak of this. Come. Let’s visit the graves.”
Yun Menghan nodded.
As they approached the village cemetery, the High Priest suddenly froze, his body tensing.
Yun Menghan lifted her eyes and saw a figure standing quietly ahead, half-shrouded by mist and rain. The man was tall and composed, slender yet imposing, dressed in the formal robes of the Celestial Emperor, silver crown atop his head. Though he wore the garments plainly, the imperial aura around him was impossible to conceal.
Yun Menghan murmured, “Ling Qingxiao…”
Ling Qingxiao had sensed their arrival long ago but paid it no mind. What did it matter if two ants had wandered onto a tiger’s mountain? Only now, hearing their voices, did he turn, casting an indifferent glance toward an old acquaintance.
It had been nearly five hundred years since Yun Menghan last saw him up close. This was the first time they had met outside the battlefield in all that time. Seeing him again, seeing that face again, struck her like a blow to the chest.
Radiant as the moon in the heavens, pure as snow among the clouds. Time had worn them all down, left them haggard and weary, but not him. He remained untainted, as if frozen in that moment long ago.
Her heart skipped a beat. She stood silent for a long time before finally managing, “Your Majesty...have you been well?”
“Menghan,” the High Priest interjected, unsheathing his weapon, eyes warily fixed on Ling Qingxiao. “Why bother asking such a man? A tyrant like him knows nothing of emotion. Why are you here, in our tribe’s cemetery? Don’t tell me...you were the one who led the slaughter?”
Ling Qingxiao’s gaze was calm and distant, with not even the faintest ripple of emotion upon seeing Yun Menghan. He rarely spoke, especially not to fools.
He withdrew his gaze and said flatly, “If I had intended to wipe out the Wu tribe, you wouldn’t still be alive to speak.”
The High Priest clenched his fists, enraged, though he knew the words were true. Ling Qingxiao was terrifying in his absolute detachment. He was cold, exact, devoid of sentiment, an emperor to his bones, ruthless and immaculate like a finely tuned instrument.
To the Celestial Realm, he was their mightiest shield. To everyone else, he was calamity.
“You heartless despot,” the High Priest growled. “We have no wish to associate with the likes of you.”
Ling Qingxiao smiled faintly at that.
Sensing things escalating, Yun Menghan quickly stepped forward, placing herself in front of the High Priest. “Ling Qingxiao, don’t do this. If you want to kill him, you’ll have to go through me first!”
At that moment, the stone doors of the ancestral altar opened. Luo Han stepped out, blinking at the scene before her. She raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
Ling Qingxiao walked over to her and raised his hand, shielding her from the falling rain. “Nothing. Just two people who don’t know their place. Did you finish inside?”
Luo Han had gone in to pay respects before the statue of Nuwa. The altar sealed off spiritual senses, so she hadn’t realized others had arrived. Seeing Yun Menghan now startled her.
She looked from Yun Menghan, lips tightly pressed and staring daggers at Ling Qingxiao, to Ling Qingxiao himself, calm, impassive. Then her eyes twitched slightly, and she sent him a voice transmission. “Running into your old flame, feeling a bit awkward, are we?”
“…Don’t be ridiculous.” Ling Qingxiao glanced at her. “You’ve barely sorted out your own romantic mess. Perhaps worry less about mine.”
Luo Han glared at him, startled. “Are you scolding me? You’re just angry because I hit a nerve!”
Ling Qingxiao almost sighed. “No. Where do you come up with these things?”
From the other side, Yun Menghan and the High Priest stared in shock.
Ling Qingxiao casually turned and placed a hand on Luo Han’s shoulder. “Let’s go. We’ll talk elsewhere.”
Then, ignoring her protests, he covered her eyes with his hand and led her away. Together, they left the cemetery and vanished in a flash of silver light, disappearing from the Wu tribe’s land.
The High Priest stood frozen, his brows deeply furrowed. “Who was that woman?”
Yun Menghan said nothing. She stared long into the distance, watching the place where they had disappeared.
They say every woman meets two men in her life, one like the sun, the other like the moon. One grounded in daily warmth and necessity. The other untouchable, pure, untainted by dust.
Ye Zhongyu was the former. Ling Qingxiao, the latter.
The world envied Yun Menghan’s fortune: to be loved by two of the most powerful men alive. Even Ye Zhongyu, spurred by Ling Qingxiao’s presence, had showered her with more attention, ensuring her unrivaled position among the women of the Demon Realm.
And yet only Yun Menghan knew the truth. She had never chosen Ye Zhongyu over Ling Qingxiao. She had never even had the chance to choose him.
Ling Qingxiao had saved her again and again, healed her wounds, stood up for her...even when she’d snuck away to find Ye Zhongyu and returned broken and bleeding, she had only to call and Ling Qingxiao would still save her.
It was true that Ling Qingxiao had treated Yun Menghan well. But that cold, desireless regard, free of even a trace of possessiveness or jealousy, was that truly a man’s love for a woman?
Outsiders couldn’t see it, but Yun Menghan knew. It wasn’t.
It was only that Ling Qingxiao was cold to everyone else, and merely a little less so with her. So people assumed he harbored feelings. Yun Menghan knew the truth but vanity had kept her from correcting them. Over time, the lie spread, echoed enough to become truth. Eventually, even she began to believe it.
But lies carry consequences. Yun Menghan could deceive herself into thinking Ling Qingxiao loved her but she could never bring herself to marry him. Deep down, she always sensed the truth. She chose not to dwell on it, not to ask. Instead, she played the part of the one who had chosen Ye Zhongyu, pretending she had been loved by two emperors, and had simply chosen one.
The truth was: Ling Qingxiao had never loved her. In fact, he had never loved anyone.
He saved her, protected her only because she had once shown him kindness when no one else had. But even that favor had limits. When the debt was repaid, Ling Qingxiao had simply let go.
He lived with clarity and detachment. When he looked at her, it was always the gaze of a sacred, distant deity looking down on the mud. Yun Menghan craved the warmth in his gaze, but deep in her soul, she knew, it would never be hers.
Ling Qingxiao was destined to be moonlight in her heart, a wistful ache in her dreams. Not just hers. Countless women in the Celestial Realm had felt the same. For someone like Ling Qingxiao, so aloof, yet so steadfast, Yun Menghan had once been the one who stood closest. She had the status of junior disciple, shared a history of growing up together, even bore the weight of a life-saving favor. And yet even with all that, she could not reach him.
If she couldn’t then he would never truly have any romance in this life.
And that was fine. As long as there were no other women beside him, Yun Menghan could continue to lie to herself. She could believe he had once loved her. Everyone else believed it too, that Ling Qingxiao had fallen for her so deeply that he waged war to win her back, and had never let another woman near him since.
But now...now that illusion was beginning to crack.
Yun Menghan had never imagined that Ling Qingxiao could walk through wind and rain for someone. Could shield a woman from dust and danger with such care. The way he looked at that girl...it stung. Deep in her bones, she felt it.
So...he could love someone? Yun Menghan gave a bitter smile.
When she left the Demon Realm, their entire war council had been debating what cunning strategy Ling Qingxiao was brewing. In the end, the truth was more outrageous than their wildest guesses.
Ling Qingxiao’s sudden absence wasn’t for politics or war, it was because he had gone sightseeing with a girl. And he didn’t even want that girl to see Yun Menghan. At the very sight of her, he had covered the girl’s eyes and half-carried her away.
So it wasn’t that he couldn’t love. It was just...he didn’t love her.
Yun Menghan lowered her head, feeling a rare and crushing sense of defeat.
The High Priest, meanwhile, was still reeling. Had he not witnessed Ling Qingxiao’s unique spiritual aura himself, he would have suspected the emperor had been replaced by an imposter. Trying hard to recall the girl’s face, he came up empty. “Who was she? Ling Qingxiao is famously distant from women. She couldn’t have just appeared out of nowhere. Has he been hiding her in Sanqing Heaven all these years?”
The High Priest was shocked. He had known Ling Qingxiao to be deep and cunning, but to have hidden this for so long…
—
Luo Han, having been forcefully dragged away, broke free once they reached a quieter place. She raised an eyebrow and glared. “Why did you cover my eyes? Feeling guilty?”
“No.” Ling Qingxiao cast her a calm glance. “You weren’t flustered, why would I be?”
She almost choked. He really had changed. The Ling Qingxiao of the past might have been aloof, but at least he was respectful. Now he dared to talk back. She bit her lip, mentally adding another grudge to her growing list.
“Hmph!” Luo Han stomped ahead, voice curt. Ling Qingxiao watched helplessly. “It’s raining.”
“I don’t need your help,” she shot back. “I have my own spiritual arts. I’m not helpless.”
The palace guards following at a respectful distance couldn’t help but notice how their all-powerful Emperor had just been rebuffed. His Majesty stood in place for a moment, then followed at a measured pace.
The guards, sensing the atmosphere, quietly fell even further behind.
Ling Qingxiao caught up to her and, despite her using her own spell, still cast another over her, shielding her from the rain. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. I wouldn’t dare interfere in Your Majesty’s personal affairs.”
Ling Qingxiao blinked. Personal affairs?
He thought for a moment and realized…ah. She must be referring to the rumors surrounding him and Yun Menghan.
Honestly, even he didn’t know how those started. Yun Menghan had been one of the few people to show him kindness in his youth. Later, she fell in with the wrong people, was betrayed, mistreated. Naturally, he couldn’t just stand by. He’d helped her, protected her. And because there were no other women around him, people assumed he loved her, but that the beauty belonged to another.
Of course, as the Celestial Emperor, he wasn’t going to make public statements to refute gossip. He had let them talk. But it seemed that wouldn’t do anymore.
Ling Qingxiao sighed quietly. “If you’re upset because of Yun Menghan, you needn’t be. She did show me kindness once. Others may think it was nothing, but to me, it was unique. Later, she was manipulated, falsely accused of infidelity, beaten nearly to death, nearly had her heart gouged out for medicine. Any decent man hearing such things would act. I thought she was trapped, helpless, so I brought her out of the Demon Realm and took care of her. But then I realized...even freed, she still defended Ye Zhongyu, found ways to run back to him.”
His tone was flat.
“I pitied her misfortune, yes. But I also grew angry at her weakness. After a few times...I simply stopped caring.”
Luo Han had been fuming, but she bit it back and listened. Once he finished, her anger slowly subsided. After a pause, she asked, “So...was that pity?”
“Pity?” Ling Qingxiao said calmly. “Not really. Maybe Ye Zhongyu was right about me. I am cold-blooded. If not for the debt she once paid, I wouldn’t have interfered at all.”
“Truly?”
“Truly,” Ling Qingxiao replied. Then, whether intentionally or not, he added casually, “The rumors flying around—clearly no one truly understands me. If I truly liked someone, then once I’d taken her from another man, I would never let her go again. Feelings can be cultivated slowly, but the person must remain by my side.”
Luo Han felt a chill trace down her spine. Why...why was he saying such things? Was she reading too much into it?
She instinctively fell silent, too wary to answer. Ling Qingxiao waited. When she still showed no sign of confessing anything, he said lightly, “You really have nothing to say? I don’t like being kept in the dark.”
Luo Han faltered. How was she supposed to say it? She let out a quiet sigh and spoke honestly, “There’s something I haven’t figured out yet...But there’s one thing I’m sure of. I have to return to my own timeline. I broke my promise once, I can’t make him wait a second time.”
Ling Qingxiao’s heart sank like a stone.
He had long suspected as much. But if it really was the same man she was so intent on returning to...then she was this biased? This partial?
They walked on in silence. After a while, their shadowing guards finally dared to approach. “Your Majesty,” one said cautiously, “a letter has arrived from the Lord of Wuyou City.”
The message had come. Luo Han instantly straightened, and Ling Qingxiao turned. “Present it,” he said calmly.
His voice was composed, but the guard inexplicably shivered and hurriedly handed over the sealed scroll before retreating.
Ling Qingxiao opened it without avoiding Luo Han’s gaze, she read over his shoulder. Once she finished, Ling Qingxiao folded the document. “It seems,” he said flatly, “Emperor Ye Zhongyu is deeply entangled in the massacre of the Wu Tribe.”
According to the intelligence from Wuyou City, after Yun Menghan fell into the Abyss of Absolute Spirits, Ye Zhongyu went mad searching for her. He eventually found her downstream, washed up along a riverbank, and immediately brought her back to the Demon Realm. Later, Ye Zhongyu secretly dispatched a team into the Great Wilderness. No one knew what they did there, but from that moment on, his rise in the Demon Realm became unstoppable, as if aided by the heavens themselves.
It wasn’t hard to guess: his second journey into the Wilderness was to retrieve the Nuwa bloodline of the Wu Tribe. Yun Menghan, completely consumed by her love for him, must have unwittingly divulged the secrets of the tribe, and perhaps even the location of the Jade Purity Vase.
Luo Han shared the same suspicion. She sighed. “If this is true, then Ye Zhongyu accepting the High Priest of the Wu Tribe under the guise of benevolence...is terrifying. But one thing still doesn’t make sense. If he really got hold of the bloodline, why hasn’t the forbidden technique been fully activated?”
“How do you know it hasn’t?” Ling Qingxiao asked, his gaze sharp.
“…I just do.”
He didn’t push further, quietly accepting her statement. “Knowing Ye Zhongyu, it’s likely he wants to unlock the seal, but not all at once. He wants to tame it, control the ancient technique for himself. Use the blood of the Wu Tribe as a medium and refine the forbidden art into his own.”
Only a true rival could understand your mind this clearly. Ling Qingxiao’s read on Ye Zhongyu was dead on.
Luo Han had no words. The Jade Purity Vase was like a sealed demon’s box. They thought they were releasing power, but in truth, they were releasing a monster.
That demon god was a master of deception and manipulation. After being imprisoned for countless years, he had long become something twisted and inhuman. To think one could control such a force...was delusion. In the end, the curse would devour its wielder and drag the Six Realms into ruin.
The war between celestials and demons was not Luo Han’s concern. She wouldn’t intervene in a wolf pack fighting over dominance. That was nature. But the forbidden curse that threatened all creation? That was her concern.
“If the seal isn’t broken yet,” Luo Han said, “then we still have a chance. We need to find a way to either reseal it or destroy him for good.”
She paused. Then her voice grew firm. “Killing him would be best. A seal is only a temporary fix. Only his death will give me peace of mind.”
Peace to leave, Ling Qingxiao silently finished in his heart.
Still, destroying the forbidden curse was also his priority. As the Celestial Emperor, he could not act out of selfishness. Ling Qingxiao looked at her, sensing she had an idea. “Do you have a plan?”
“I don’t know yet. But I know who to ask.”
“Who?”
“The Bodhi Tree.”
Ling Qingxiao didn’t answer right away. Luo Han quickly added, “I’m not doing this for personal reasons, I genuinely want to solve the problem. The Bodhi Tree is the only living thing that once stayed by Nuwa’s side. If anyone would know the truth it’s the Bodhi Tree.”
He gazed down at her. Just when she thought he would refuse, he nodded slightly. “All right.”
Even though he knew she wanted to ask about going back, too, he still agreed.
Favoritism existed. Even for someone like him. Who was loved more was never about reason, it just was.