Chapter 136

Every day, countless prayers poured in, but most of them were dismissed by Luo Han with a single tap, marked as read and ignored. Only a rare few would catch her attention. Coincidentally, someone had managed to do just that today.
It was a prayer from the High Priest of the Wu Clan. Considering they had recently been on the receiving end of a beatdown from the protagonist duo and their loyal sidekick, Luo Han could easily guess what the priest’s words entailed, either cursing her or cursing Ling Qingxiao.
Curious, Luo Han opened it. As expected, it was directed at her.
Her smile became even gentler. But as one entrusted with the will of Heaven, she couldn't take it personally. No matter what the High Priest begged for, it was destined to go unanswered.
Reporting her to the Heavenly Dao? That would only succeed in some alternate universe.
Luo Han closed the prayer, intending to call it a night. But just before deactivating her divine bracelet, she paused.
As the embodiment of the Heavenly Dao, she was expected to remain impartial. The priest’s accusations that she had strayed from the Dao’s virtue meant little to her. But the part about the Wu Clan’s destruction...that she couldn’t ignore.
She’d already seen the news from Wuyou City. The annihilation of the Wu Clan could be traced back to Ye Zhongyu and Yun Menghan. But the High Priest had no idea. He still trusted them, still guarded Yun Menghan with his life, still served Ye Zhongyu with absolute loyalty.
If he ever learned the truth...what kind of devastation would that be? Luo Han sighed lightly. Even Heaven, despite its laws, was merciful. Before someone stepped into the abyss, Heaven always offered a moment of awakening.
She reopened the panel and responded to the prayer she had just dismissed.
Meanwhile, the High Priest had been casting his divination cards for a long time. This was already his third attempt. The previous two had yielded nothing, so he wasn’t expecting anything this time either. But when the turtle shell fragments landed with a crisp clatter, they formed a strange pattern. He froze, eyes widening as understanding dawned on him, a warning from Heaven.
"Do not trust those closest to you."
The message struck him like thunder. What did it mean? Never before had he received such a clear omen. In recent years, divination among the Wu Clan had become a mere formality, a hollow ritual. But now, this?
A rustle came from behind. The High Priest jolted and hurriedly swept up the divination tokens. Yun Menghan stepped through the brush and lit up upon seeing him. “High Priest! Why are you here?”
“He stared at her blankly, still clutching the tokens. “Miss Yun...what brings you here?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said sweetly. “I just wanted someone to talk to. The Demon King’s busy, the Red Lotus Demon King is still healing, so I came to find you.”
The High Priest gave a quiet grunt in reply but said nothing more. He might have lived apart from the mortal world, but he still understood basic human decency. And what Yun Menghan had just said...was rather tactless.
She didn’t mean harm, he knew that, but she had a way of repeatedly putting him in the position of a last resort. Any man would grow weary of that in time.
Except perhaps the Red Lotus Demon King, who had neither a sense of propriety nor long-term foresight. The High Priest had always thought Ye Zhongyu cold and indifferent toward Yun Menghan, but now...he began to see that maybe this rift between them wasn’t one-sided after all.
Yun Menghan, blissfully unaware, plopped down beside him without asking, completely ignoring the fact that he’d been in the middle of a sacred ritual. The High Priest silently gathered his tools and asked, “What troubles you?”
“I’m worried about Feng Yuchen,” she said, brows furrowed, lost in her own thoughts. “He’s been taken by his sister, and she’s not exactly gentle or kind. What if she mistreats him?”
The High Priest frowned, offering a well-meaning reminder. “That is a matter of the Phoenix Clan. He’s returned to his kin, to his mother and tribe. I doubt he’ll come to harm.”
“But...what if he hates it there?”
The High Priest paused. “Then what do you propose?”
Keep Feng Yuchen at her side forever? But Yun Menghan was already married.
She faltered. “I don’t mean to separate him from his family...I just...I worry. He once told me life in Wuzhou was suffocating and dull, nothing like the colorful world outside. Now that he’s been forcibly taken back...he must be so unhappy.”
The High Priest listened and smiled bitterly. He, too, had once thought the world beyond the mountains vibrant and full of wonder. But after the Wu Clan was wiped from existence, and he found himself with no home to return to, only then did he realize, living alongside one’s people is the rarest kind of blessing.
“If I could,” the High Priest murmured, “I would trade places with him in a heartbeat. As a child, when I made mistakes, my master would scold me. Later, my master passed away, and I took up his mantle as High Priest. But I would have preferred to remain a useless piece of rotten wood...to be yelled at every time I messed up, to be dragged back each time I ran off.”
His eyes were filled with nostalgia, and gradually, sorrow welled up.
He knew it was impossible now. Those who once reprimanded and guided him were all gone. Many nights he had prayed, begged for the goddess Nuwa, for his master, for the elders, even just one of his clansmen, to appear in a dream. To scold him, beat him, anything at all...because he had failed them. But no one ever came.
Perhaps they were so disappointed, they couldn't even bring themselves to visit him in his dreams.
Yun Menghan finally realized she’d said the wrong thing. She bit her lip and fell silent. After a long pause, she said awkwardly, “They wouldn’t blame you.”
The High Priest’s grief overflowed. He clutched his eyes, forcing back the tears. “If they don’t blame me, then I am even more unworthy. I hate myself for neglecting my duty, for slipping away from the village...for giving the enemy the chance to strike. They were all helpless elders and children. If I had been there, if only I might have opened the altar’s barrier and led them to safety. But I wasn’t. The altar never opened. And they were slaughtered...just outside.”
Yun Menghan fell completely silent. She lowered her head, seemingly lost in thought. The Wu Clan’s High Priest slowly let his hand fall to his side. In his eyes gleamed unshed tears but also a deadly resolve.
“I no longer care about surviving this world. I only wish to perish alongside the ones who slaughtered my people. And the one who betrayed us, who revealed the location of the village, I won’t let them escape either. Speaking of which, the divine artifact…”
He had been about to bring up the artifact to Yun Menghan, but when he turned around, he saw her sitting there, her gaze unfocused, lost in her own world. The words caught in his throat.
Suddenly, the omen flashed in his mind once more "Do not trust those closest to you."
Aside from Yun Menghan, who else was by his side? A chill seized his spine. Panic surged through him, twisting his face into a mask of disbelief. His voice trembled as he asked:
“Miss Yun...do you know something?”
Yun Menghan flinched, biting her lip hard. Her gaze dropped as she mumbled, “I don’t.”
“Then...do you know who leaked the village’s location?”
She visibly tensed. It was impossible to miss now. She shot to her feet, blurting, “I don’t know!”
She realized too late how suspicious she looked. Forcing a smile onto her face, she quickly tried to smooth things over:
“High Priest, you mentioned the divine artifact earlier. What about it?”
The High Priest stared at her, long and hard, as though seeing her for the first time.
Just as Yun Menghan began to panic, thinking he might lash out or confront her directly, the High Priest shook his head and said calmly:
“It’s nothing. I only meant to remind you and the Demon King, Goddess Nuwa set countless deadly traps around the artifact to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. Retrieving it is extremely dangerous. If the Demon King intends to claim it, he must proceed with utmost caution.”
—
In the Underworld, Luo Han had rested through the night. As soon as she stepped out, she saw Ling Qingxiao seated in the main hall, reading quietly. The moment he spotted her, he closed the book and walked over naturally.
“Awake? How was your rest?”
“Not bad,” Luo Han replied honestly. “I thought the River of Forgetfulness would be noisy with so many ghosts. But surprisingly, it was peaceful. No cries or howls at all.”
Ling Qingxiao chuckled, “Perhaps reincarnation’s been moving swiftly lately. Fewer resentful spirits around.”
The ghost officials stationed nearby didn’t dare make a sound. With the Celestial Emperor himself lounging in the fortress, his mere presence suppressed the surroundings so thoroughly that not even the boldest of ghosts would dare approach. If any wailing could still be heard from the river, that would be the real surprise.
Luo Han wasn’t familiar with the internal workings of the Underworld, but if even the top of the hierarchy’s top said it was true, then it probably was.
The ghostly silence was a passing curiosity. Soon, Luo Han remembered something more important. Changing the subject, she asked:
“Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet,” Ling Qingxiao said without blinking. “What are you craving?”
If he hadn’t eaten, then she could join without guilt. Luo Han sat down at the table and casually said:
“I suddenly feel like having yangzhi lychee.”
It was just a fruit, after all. Ling Qingxiao nodded lightly. “Very well. I’ll have it prepared.”
The nearby ghost attendants froze the moment they heard the Emperor mention a meal. When they heard the fruit requested, a yangzhi lychee, which only grew in the Celestial Realm, they froze again.
The Underworld was saturated with yin energy. Sunlight never touched the soil. Nothing green could survive, let alone bear fruit. The only thing that grew here was the blood-fed, resentment-born Nether Bloom. And now they were expected to fetch a lychee from the Heavens?
Luo Han vaguely remembered hearing once that no plants grew in the Underworld. As she thought back, she realized she hadn’t seen a single tree or vine along the journey here. She asked:
“I’ve heard nothing grows in the Underworld. Is it troublesome to get yangzhi lychee here?”
“Not at all,” Ling Qingxiao replied lightly, casting a faint glance to the side. “The Underworld is vast and resourceful. They’ll manage.”
Everyone present promptly swallowed their protests. Before long, the attendants quietly bowed out and rushed off to scour the realms for lychees.
Of course, Ling Qingxiao had already predicted that Luo Han might want to eat, and had ordered the kitchens to prepare in advance. The request for yangzhi lychee had taken them off guard, but the rest of the meal was ready. Plate after plate was served, delicate, otherworldly, and utterly unlike mortal fare. Though options were limited in the Underworld, the novelty made up for it. Seeing Luo Han’s curious gaze, the servers eagerly introduced every dish.
Luo Han was never stingy with praise when it came to beautiful things. She lavished compliments upon each dish, and the servant nearest her became drunk on the praise. In a moment of flustered excitement, he blurted out:

“Fairy, while these pastries are mostly for show, our Underworld’s true specialty is the Nether Wine.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt the air grow cold. The Celestial Emperor’s gaze swept over him, calm, but piercing. The server immediately sobered, his heart sinking.
Damn it.
How could he forget? His Majesty detested alcohol. Just yesterday, he’d personally crossed Nether Wine off the menu. And now he had just gone and advertised it?
He wished he could rewind time and slap himself silent. But it was too late, he couldn’t take the words back.
Luo Han’s eyes lit up with interest. “Nether Wine? Is it brewed from Nether Blooms?”
The server darted a glance at the Emperor. But His Majesty remained still and poised, calmly pouring a cup of water for the woman beside him. The servant’s heart was pounding. Was that...a good sign? A bad one?
Still, he didn’t dare ignore the question. Drawing on every ounce of survival instinct, he tried to downplay the wine:
“Yes, Fairy, it is indeed brewed from Nether Blooms. Though it bears a grand name, its taste is rather ordinary. Nothing too special, really…”
He practically dissed their own signature product just to avoid His Majesty’s wrath.
But Luo Han wasn’t concerned about the flavor. She didn’t particularly enjoy alcohol, she just liked trying local specialties. Her curiosity now piqued, she clapped her hands in delight:
“Great! Bring a pot. And two sets of cups.”
The server opened his mouth, hesitating but one look from Luo Han made him fall silent again. She turned to look at Ling Qingxiao, puzzled by the servant’s reaction. Ling Qingxiao offered her a faint, amused smile. Then he nodded gently to the server and said:
“Go on. Bring it.”
The servant’s vision went dark. He had a sudden, sinking feeling that his previously smooth career in the Underworld bureaucracy was about to come to an abrupt end.
Soon enough, the Nether Wine was brought out and placed on the table. Luo Han leaned forward, eyeing the translucent crystal decanter curiously. The wine within shimmered like fresh blood, rich, dark, and strangely beautiful.
She poured herself a small cup, brought it to her nose and inhaled gently. “I’ve heard the Nether Flower symbolizes a love steeped in despair,” she mused aloud. “If wine is brewed from its petals...would its flavor reflect the fate of love? Say, if love was fulfilled in a past life, the wine would be sweet; but if it ended in tragedy, it would taste bitter?”
Ling Qingxiao frowned slightly. Somehow, her words struck him as a prophecy in disguise.
The servant scratched his head awkwardly and said, “That saying’s popular in the mortal world, but the Nether Flower is still a plant. It may be mystical, but it can't peer into samsara or alter taste based on fate. As far as I know, the wine has a slightly bitter note, mellow body, and a strong afterkick. It can cause a bit of dizziness or a dreamy state...but beyond that, I’ve never heard of any special properties.”
Luo Han, satisfied with the explanation, took a sip.
She held the cup to her lips for a long while without moving. Ling Qingxiao grew uneasy. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
Luo Han glanced at him with solemn seriousness. “I think this wine is...unusual.”
Ling Qingxiao’s entire posture shifted. His back straightened instinctively, and the air around him turned tense. “Unusual how?”
Luo Han brought the cup closer to him. “Taste it for yourself.”
He didn’t drink. He was about to refuse when it dawned on him, that was her cup. With his keen eyesight, he could see exactly where her lips had touched the rim.
He hesitated only a moment. In that blink of an eye, Luo Han had already lifted the cup to his lips. Caught in between refusal and acceptance, Ling Qingxiao gave in, lowered his head slightly, and took a small sip.
He quietly analyzed the taste. It matched the servant’s description: slightly bitter, mellow, with a strong finish. So what was wrong with it?
Just then, Luo Han broke into a smile, amused by his seriousness. “Of course it’s unusual,” she said. “Didn’t you notice? It tasted sweet.”
Ling Qingxiao paused, and only then realized what she meant.
Luo Han set down the cup and said with mock gravity, “You’ve done everything perfectly. Naturally, your love should find fulfillment, in this life and the last.”
Of all the things Ling Qingxiao had ever been told, this was perhaps the most pleasing explanation for a perfect life. He accepted it effortlessly and gave her a small, knowing look. “Naturally,” he said softly. “And you...will be the same.”
By the time their breakfast was nearing its end, the servants finally returned with yangzhi lychees.
The brilliant red fruits sat nestled on a fine porcelain dish, dewdrops still clinging to the leaves. Luo Han picked one up, inspecting it from all angles, and sighed. “What a hassle. I don’t want to peel it.”
Before her words had even settled, Ling Qingxiao reached over and took the lychee from her hand.
Startled, Luo Han blinked. “Wait, that’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” His long, slender fingers traced the fruit's surface. A gentle swipe, and the tough rind split open to reveal the translucent flesh within. With a flick of his spiritual energy, he removed the seed entirely.
“The Underworld is steeped in yin. Yangzhi lychees are naturally warm in property. Don’t eat too many,” he warned softly.
He held the glistening fruit to her lips. Luo Han stared at him in surprise, then leaned forward and bit into it cautiously. The nearby servants had long been stunned into silence.
One of them secretly pinched his own thigh. The sharp pain jolted him awake. Was this real? Or had his memories scrambled themselves? The taste of pain confirmed reality, he wasn’t dreaming. He understood now.
Even the highest flower of the six realms could fall, and when it did, it fell hard.
By the looks of it, the Heavenly Palace might soon welcome its new mistress.
Ling Qingxiao’s gesture wasn’t just gentlemanly. Some part of him felt vaguely indebted, whether from the sugar sculpture earlier or the sip of wine just now. Even if Luo Han had initiated those moments, it was still he who had taken advantage.
Having trained in swordsmanship and artifact refinement since childhood, peeling fruit was child’s play to him. But after that first bite, something changed. It was as if a switch had flipped in him.
He started peeling one lychee after another, carefully removing every imperfect part of the fruit before offering it to Luo Han. And each time, he’d watch, entranced, as she bit down from his fingertips.
Luo Han’s lips, originally a soft rose, deepened into a lush red from the juice. Her mouth glistened with a sheen of fruit nectar, drawing Ling Qingxiao’s eyes against his will.
A sudden image flashed in his mind. He was holding the back of her head, leaning in, tasting that same juice from her lips. No—tasting her. Deeper still, lingering, exploring…
Ling Qingxiao snapped back to reality with a jolt.
He could almost taste it, a hint of fresh citrus. Where had that thought come from? Was it the Nether Wine clouding his mind? Or...something else?
Lost in his daze, his hand faltered, drifting a little too far forward. Luo Han hadn’t expected it. Her next bite landed squarely on his finger.
She let go instantly, flustered. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention! Did I hurt you?”
Ling Qingxiao drew his hand back, absentmindedly rubbing the spot her teeth had grazed. Only after a moment did his senses catch up.
Awkwardly, he said, “It’s nothing.”
But Luo Han didn’t quite believe him.
Worried, she caught his hand again. Ling Qingxiao tried to pull away, but she was quick and persistent. “Let me see,” she said, frowning. “Thank goodness it didn’t leave a mark. Otherwise, I’d have no idea how to make it up to you.”
Ling Qingxiao’s brow quirked. “And how would you make it up to me?”
Luo Han met his gaze, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Hmm...how about you bite me back?”
For someone who had ruled as Celestial Emperor for over four millennia, Ling Qingxiao showed no sign of fluster. His gaze remained calm and poised, like still water under moonlight.
Luo Han tried not to laugh. She held out her wrist and shook it playfully. “I mean my wrist. Would you like to take your revenge?”
Ling Qingxiao would have to be a fool not to realize she was teasing him.
He gave her a cold, regal glance and replied, “I’ll let it go...for now.”
The matter would be settled later, with interest.
With that, Ling Qingxiao rose to his feet and swept out of the hall with a flick of his sleeve, not sparing her another glance. Luo Han didn’t dare laugh aloud for fear of provoking him further. She hurried after him, quickly catching his “wounded” hand and lacing her fingers with his.
“My fault,” she said sincerely. “I wasn’t paying attention. Such beautiful hands can’t afford a scar. From now on, I’ll take good care of them. Should we go look for that stone now?”
Ling Qingxiao gave a low, indifferent hum. That was his way of agreeing. Her slender palm pressed against his own, and Ling Qingxiao quietly closed his fingers around hers. Even as they walked, his mind was already drafting a very thorough long-term plan.
She was the one who said I should bite back. The Celestial Emperor does not speak empty words. If I said it will be dealt with later, then it shall be properly and completely.