Chapter 139

Su Yinyue arrived swiftly. She lifted the tent flap and stepped delicately onto the ornate carpet, coughing softly behind her handkerchief.
“Cousin,” she greeted gently.
Ye Zhongyu was noticeably more gentle with Su Yinyue. Unlike with Yun Menghan earlier, he immediately gestured for her to sit, his tone warm:
“How has your health been lately? You’re too reckless , ou know the front lines are harsh and dangerous. The conditions are nothing like Hao Cang City. You should have stayed in the palace to recover. Why come to the battlefield?”
Her face was pale as porcelain, almost bloodless.
“I wanted to be closer to you,” she said.
Ye Zhongyu sighed, knowing he could never dissuade her. Since childhood, nothing he said had ever changed Su Yinyue’s mind. He relented.
“I give up. Fine, I’ll assign more guards to look after you. Make sure you take care of yourself. Don’t let the sand and wind ruin your health.”
“Thank you, Cousin.”
She dabbed her lips with her handkerchief, then asked softly: “You called for me this late—was there something you wanted to say?”
Ye Zhongyu hesitated briefly, but then spoke calmly:
“I was worried about your health. But yes, there is something else.”
She waited quietly for him to continue. He pressed his fingers together and said:
“I’m thinking of dismissing the harem.”
Su Yinyue’s eyes lifted sharply. She glanced at him, expression unreadable.
“Your harem includes some of the most beautiful women in the world. It’s not easy to gather such rare beauties. Why suddenly cast them all aside?”
Ye Zhongyu sighed with something like melancholy.
“Of all the water in the world, I only want one ladle to drink from.”
“I spoke with Yun Menghan just now, heart to heart and realized how much I’ve misunderstood her all these years. We were supposed to be the truest of lovers. Yet now, though we’re married, we live like strangers. That shouldn’t be. I’ve already lost one child. I can’t lose her too.”
“So I’ve decided to dismiss the harem and devote myself to her alone. Without those other women in the way, maybe...maybe our love can be restored.”
Silence fell. Su Yinyue’s voice dropped.
“And what about me? Cousin, I’ve given up everything for you. If you dismiss the others for her, then what am I supposed to be?”
Ye Zhongyu’s gaze filled with guilt. “Yinyue, I owe you a lifetime of debt. In the next life...I’ll choose to love you.”
She laughed, quiet at first, then wild and broken. Her pallor turned ghastly. The sound of her laughter echoed like something unraveling.
“So, in the next life, you’ll love me. That means you’ve never loved me in this one, doesn’t it?”
Ye Zhongyu looked down. “…I’m sorry.”
“Why?” she demanded. “What does she have that I don’t? Why do you love her and not me?”
“I wish I could be fair to you both. But I can’t.” He sounded truly pained. “When she came to me...she was so frail, so alone. Nothing but skin and bone. She told me she slept alone in her tent, afraid of the dark, with no one to answer her cries. She’d lie awake for nights on end, too afraid to sleep. How could I abandon her when she needs me so?”
Su Yinyue pieced it together. So Yun Menghan had been living alone. Her servants were so few, they couldn't even hear her cries at night. Su Yinyue coughed into her handkerchief—harshly, violently, as if tearing her lungs out.
Ye Zhongyu stepped forward, concerned. “Yinyue…”
“I’m fine.” She rose, swaying slightly, and bowed. “It’s late. You should rest, Cousin. No matter what happens...I will always stand by your side.”
Ye Zhongyu softened.
“Don’t worry. You’ll always be different from the rest. Even without our marriage bond, you’re still my cousin. You’ll have the palace to rest in for as long as you need.”
Su Yinyue smiled. “Thank you, Cousin.”
As she turned to leave, her thin frame was silhouetted against the black tent flap, which bore the twisted, monstrous crest of the demon clan. Her frail body, framed by the demonic beasts behind her, created a strange, oppressive image.
Ye Zhongyu’s heart tensed. “Yinyue? What is it?”
She tilted her head slightly. From his angle, he could only see the curve of her jaw and the faintest smile on her lips.
“Tell me, Cousin...have I ever refused you anything?”
A chill ran through Ye Zhongyu. “What are you talking about?”
“I may be younger than you, but illness made me grow up fast. I’ve always watched you closely. Whatever you want, whatever you need, how could I not know?”
She left without waiting for a response. Su Yinyue had always loved her cousin. She had never denied him anything.
So now, if he wanted someone dead, she would kill Yun Menghan for him. She was willing to be his blade. Just not if he planned to leave her behind. She had tolerated everything, his affairs, his mistresses, his neglect. But the one thing she could not abide was him staying faithful to another woman.
Ye Zhongyu had known exactly what he was doing when he spoke those words, every line meant to provoke her. And Su Yinyue? She knew that too.
A faint, indulgent smile curved her lips. Her cousin, he was still the same boy from long ago, the one who’d faked illness just to steal something from Ling Qingxiao.
Su Yinyue entered Yun Menghan’s residence without encountering the slightest resistance. Not a single guard stood outside.
She smiled lightly. Her cousin had cleared the way for her, laid out everything. All she needed to do was play the villain.
And how could she bear to let him down?
Yun Menghan sat in the inner room, quietly looking through a box of keepsakes, tokens from her and Ye Zhongyu’s past. Hearing movement, she looked up, expecting Ye Zhongyu. What she saw instead stunned her.
“Su Yinyue?” she blurted, leaping from her seat. “Why are you here?”
“Sister Yun,” Su Yinyue greeted her with a faint, unreadable smile. “It’s been a while.”
Yun Menghan had no intention of indulging in small talk. Su Yinyue, with her frail figure and gentle manner, might fool others but Yun Menghan knew the truth. This woman was a demon cloaked in silk.
Her expression turned cold. “My place is small and humble,” Yun Menghan said bluntly. “It cannot host noble guests like you. Someone, see the lady out.”
She called out several times. No one responded. A sinking feeling gripped her heart.
Su Yinyue strolled over and, uninvited, picked up the box of mementos. Yun Menghan’s fury surged.
“Su Yinyue, you are the concubine, I am the wife. Please mind your station and do not overstep.”
Su Yinyue murmured softly: “Overstep…?”
She tilted her head, then smiled, and in that smile was cruelty. “But if you’re dead, you’re not the wife anymore.”
Yun Menghan didn’t have time to react. A blade plunged into her abdomen.
Pain ripped through her. She looked down in horror, the dagger was embedded deep in her belly, blood pouring freely over Su Yinyue’s pale hands. Su Yinyue twisted the blade. Her expression was almost pitying.
“It’s a shame, really. You had a promising path ahead of you. But unfortunately...you coveted something you shouldn’t have.”
“Who?” Yun Menghan gasped through clenched teeth. “You’re doing this for who? Ling Qingxiao?”
It could only be him. He was the one she shouldn't have dared to desire. But what did Ling Qingxiao have to do with Su Yinyue? Though technically cousins, they despised each other. They shared no affection.
Su Yinyue laughed bitterly. “So even now...in this moment...he’s still the one in your heart?”
“You’ve misunderstood everything. He’s out of reach for both of us. He’s the Celestial Emperor, pure, untouchable. You and I...we don’t even deserve to brush his sleeve. Your little fantasies will rot in the dark, unseen and forgotten.”
Something inside Yun Menghan snapped. With a sudden burst of strength, she shoved Su Yinyue away. Su Yinyue, caught off guard and already weak from illness, slammed into the table, coughing blood on impact. Gasping, she tried to rise and attack again.
“How dare you push me, you wretch!”
Clutching her wound, Yun Menghan staggered toward the exit, shouting for help. But no one came. The outside remained eerily silent.
Both women, one bleeding, the other frail, collapsed again into a vicious struggle. Yun Menghan managed to knock the dagger from Su Yinyue’s hand, and it clattered to the floor. She seized the chance.
“Zhongyu!” she screamed. “Ye Zhongyu, help me!”
Even now, even in her worst moment, she still hoped he would come. Su Yinyue smiled. It was part triumph, part mockery, part scornful pity.
“You never understood him. You never really knew him. He belongs to me, only to me.”
Just then, the earth shuddered violently beneath them. Neither could stay upright. Both collapsed to the ground again. Yun Menghan cried out as pain ripped through her, her wound still pouring blood. She lay there, gasping, barely able to move.
Su Yinyue wasn’t much better. When the quake subsided, chaos erupted outside. Footsteps thundered past. Panic broke the silence:
“We’re under attack! The immortals have launched a surprise assault!”
“The immortals?” Su Yinyue whispered in disbelief.
She stumbled to the entrance and pulled back the curtain. In the distance, near the main command tent, spiritual energy and demonic force collided in a violent storm of battle. Blood painted the skies.
Her face went deathly pale. “No...Cousin is in danger!”
—
After Su Yinyue left, Ye Zhongyu grew increasingly restless. He couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth like a caged beast. He reached for the tent flap several times, only to stop.
Each time, a mental map of the Six Realms flashed before his eyes. He stood at the threshold for a long while before slowly withdrawing his hand. A great ruler must not be swayed by personal feelings. It’s just one woman.
Once he conquered the realms, he’d have his pick of younger, more beautiful, more obedient women. If he so wished, he could raise another Yun Menghan from scratch.
A colder wind slipped through the cracks in the tent. Ye Zhongyu’s heart hardened. He returned to his seat, pulled out the war map, and forced himself to focus on military strategy, not on what might be happening in the other tent.
Not long after, rapid footsteps thundered toward him. Outside, a familiar voice called urgently:
“Demon Lord! Your subordinate has a report!”
Upon hearing that voice, Ye Zhongyu instantly tensed. He threw the map onto the table and strode quickly to the entrance. “Come in!” he called out urgently.
It was Lei Da and the remaining deathsworn, though of the full squad that had departed, only four returned. Ye Zhongyu didn’t even ask about the others.
“The divine artifact, did you retrieve it?”
Lei Da stepped forward and offered a wooden box. Blood stained its surface, some old, some freshly spattered. Ye Zhongyu didn’t question the blood. He snatched the box with urgency, unfastened the clasp. Inside lay a delicate, radiant vial glowing with ethereal light. Ye Zhongyu paused in disbelief.
“Why does it look...exactly like the Ancient Forbidden Technique’s bottle?”
Before he could think further, Lei Da collapsed from exhaustion and died. Ye Zhongyu barely spared him a glance. His focus remained on the artifact.
“Was it like this when you found it? Did anyone else touch it along the way?”
Lei Liu knelt beside Lei Da’s lifeless body. Across from him stood the Demon Lord, still obsessing over the object. Swallowing his grief, Lei Liu answered:
“No one touched it. Big Brother guarded the box with his life. He didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. He watched over it himself the whole way.”
Lei Da had pushed himself so far, he’d quite literally worked himself to death upon arrival. Ye Zhongyu finally relaxed. He closed the box and waved them off.
“Very well. I understand. You may go.”
Not once did he ask about the ones who hadn’t made it back. Lei Liu and the others silently carried Lei Da’s corpse away. Once alone, Ye Zhongyu could no longer hold back his excitement. He pulled out the ancient forbidden bottle and placed it beside the one from the box.
Identical. Was this a trick? He infused the bottle with demonic energy, no response. He tried everything he could think of. Still nothing. Frustrated, he turned to his last resort.
“Senior...are you there?”
The Forbidden Soul didn’t monitor the outside constantly, he had to be summoned. From within the Jade Purity Vase a spectral form slowly emerged.
“What is it?”
Ye Zhongyu held up the divine artifact. “This is the item the descendant of Nuwa spoke of. But I’ve tried everything, it doesn’t respond.”
The Forbidden Soul chuckled coldly. “Of course not. Only mass-produced trash is plug-and-play. Divine items are unique. Each has its own incantation.”
Ye Zhongyu frowned. “So there’s a specific key phrase. Useless to have the bottle without the key...what now?”
The Forbidden Soul floated closer, peering at it with suspicion. “Strange...why does it look exactly like the Jade Purity Vase? I’ve never heard of Nuwa owning something similar.”
He had known Nuwa nearly his entire life. Among ancient gods, nothing stayed secret for long. They knew each other’s powers and treasures, even if only through rumor.
If even he had never heard of it… “That means Nuwa must have created it after I died,” the Forbidden Soul muttered, staring hard at the flowing patterns on the bottle.
His expression suddenly changed. “This is bad.”
At that exact moment, a cold, familiar voice echoed from outside the tent “So this is where you are.”
Ye Zhongyu spun around. The two bottles in his hand suddenly froze. Ice crusted over them, spreading up his arms like wildfire. The cold was so intense, it felt like his limbs had gone numb.
He tried to clutch the artifact tighter, only to grasp at air. It had vanished.
He sensed a ripple in space, there, and then not there at all. A gust of cold wind burst through the tent, tearing it open. Standing in the mist, clad in white and rimed with frost, was Ling Qingxiao, radiating a cold and commanding presence.
Ye Zhongyu tried to shout for help but chaos had already erupted in the camp. The demonic soldiers were panicking. They had been ambushed.
Ling Qingxiao had followed Lei Da’s trail. The moment Lei Da thought they’d reached safety, he had, in truth, led Ling Qingxiao straight to them. Enraged, Ye Zhongyu shattered the ice on his arm with surging demonic power and summoned his weapon.
He pointed it at Ling Qingxiao, shouting: “The Immortal Realm claims righteousness, yet its emperor stoops to sneak attacks! Where is the artifact?!”
Before he could receive a response, a sinister force burst from the sealed spatial rift. A massive, grotesque shadow emerged.
“You!”
It was the Forbidden Soul, and beside him appeared Luo Han.
Divine beings were not bound by time and space. The Forbidden Soul had never expected to be truly contained. Luo Han had known this. Her plan had never been to trap him long.
She only needed one thing: To get the Calamity Purging Vessel out of Ye Zhongyu’s hands. Now, standing face to face again after countless years, the Forbidden Soul beheld the one who had caused his death and eternal imprisonment.
His hatred exploded. He shed all pretenses, fully unleashing his power. Black fog surged outward, withering everything it touched. Red light streaked across the sky, eerie and twisted. Now that all his enemies had appeared, the Forbidden Soul saw no need to hide.
He would destroy the Six Realms. If he had to die, then all would die with him. Luo Han included.
“I am supreme over the Six Realms,” he declared. “If I die, none shall live.”
But Luo Han was prepared. Their enmity had begun in the age of myth, right and wrong no longer mattered. Only one of them would survive this final confrontation. She summoned a radiant golden light, forming intricate divine sigils with her fingers. Every ounce of her divine power was channeled into the Calamity Purging Vessel.
“I am Luo Han, Heavenly Dao. Heaven is merciless, it punishes evil and rewards good. All six realms are within its cycle. In the name of the divine, let judgment fall. Open.”
The Calamity Purging Vessel began to glow. A golden beam of light shot skyward, piercing the clouds, side by side with the eerie red light radiating from the Jade Purity Vase. The two lights clashed in midair, competing for dominance.
Luo Han controlled the Calamity Purging Vessel, attempting to draw the Forbidden Soul into it. But the Forbidden Soul clearly sensed the bottle’s danger, there was no way he would submit willingly.
Like a divine tug-of-war, both sides pulled with everything they had. The outcome would depend solely on who was stronger.
The confrontation between Luo Han and the Forbidden Soul was so overwhelming that it drew attention from every corner of the battlefield. Ye Zhongyu immediately realized: the bottle in Luo Han’s hand was fatal to the Forbidden Soul.
So this was Nuwa’s divine artifact? No, it was a trap. A weapon designed specifically to counter ancient forbidden magic. Enraged, Ye Zhongyu charged toward Luo Han with his blade. But he was intercepted mid-swing, ice halted his strike.
He turned and saw Ling Qingxiao, frost swirling at his side. The long-lost divine sword had been summoned. Since ascending to Celestial Emperor, Ling Qingxiao had rarely drawn his sword. The few times he did, it was always for blood.
Only twice before: Once, when he severed the spacetime tunnel Luo Han had tried to escape through. And now, this. The battle exploded.
Ling Qingxiao clashed with Ye Zhongyu. The immortal and demon soldiers beneath them began fighting ferociously, each protecting their own kings, while attacking the enemy’s. The peaceful night turned into a hellish bloodbath. Spells roared. Swords flew. Flesh was torn apart.
Yun Menghan stumbled onto the battlefield in the midst of it all.