Chapter 145

At first, the palace attendants assumed this was just another round of her usual antics. The Heavenly Dao throwing a tantrum, refusing food then His Majesty would come coax her, and two hours later, the strike would end.
They were used to it. No one expected it to last. But this time, Luo Han ate and slept as usual. She didn’t do anything extreme, and Ling Qingxiao still visited her daily. From the outside, it looked like nothing had changed.
But the maids could sense it, something was deeply wrong. Children scream when they’re angry. Adults break apart in silence. The fracture between them didn’t come with shouting or slamming doors. It started with silence, with eyes that no longer met.
The maids began walking on eggshells, barely daring to breathe. That night at dinner, His Majesty returned as usual, sitting across from Luo Han. She ate quietly, properly, not a single flaw in etiquette.
But not once did she look at him. The longer they sat, the colder his expression became. The air in the Jade Purity Palace seemed to freeze. No one spoke. No one moved. Not even the breeze.
After the meal, Ling Qingxiao wiped his fingers clean and asked calmly, “Did you encounter any difficult court matters today?”
Luo Han’s eyes remained lowered. “No.”
He paused. “All right. I’ll return to the front hall. Get some rest.”
Luo Han gave a quiet, emotionless, “Mn.”
The maids waited anxiously, certain His Majesty would say something more, try to bridge the gap. But he said nothing. Faced with her indifference, he really did walk away. The palace attendants were stunned. Panicked.
But who were they to interfere? One was the Celestial Emperor. The other, the embodiment of the Dao. They were far above mortal concerns. No matter how much the maids worried, they could only swallow it down.
—
Luo Han ignored their hesitant glances. She calmly flipped through a map of the Six Realms, noted a few important passages, then extinguished the lamp and lay down to sleep. As for the man who had once filled her nights and mornings, she didn’t ask about him. Not even once.
The servants were at their wits’ end. It was truly a case of the eunuchs panicking while the emperor stayed calm. If things continued like this, what if the Heavenly Dao pushed His Majesty further and further away?
One young maid wanted to offer a word of advice, but her companion tugged her sleeve, silently warning her not to overstep. The maid swallowed her words, adjusted the curtains in silence, and retreated, closing the doors behind her.
Luo Han lay in bed, eyes closed, trying and failing to fall asleep. After tossing and turning for what felt like forever, she finally sat up, intending to open the Heavenly Dao interface and process a few prayers.
But just as she moved, a voice echoed from the darkness: “If you look at that now, you’ll only sleep worse later.”
Luo Han’s hand froze mid-air. She looked toward the doorway. “Why are you here?”
Ling Qingxiao’s divine sense was unmatched, though he’d remained physically in the Hall of Governance, his awareness had covered all of Jade Purity Palace. He knew she hadn’t slept. He’d sensed every restless toss and turn.
The moment she sat up, he had instantly transported himself from the hall to her chambers.
Ling Qingxiao emerged from the shadows, lifted the curtain, and approached the bed. “You’re that anxious...you can’t even sleep?”
Luo Han stared at the jade tiles beneath her feet. Her voice was quiet: “You’ve already become the Emperor of the Six Realms. Immortals, demons, beasts, humans, ghosts, gods, they’re all in the palm of your hand. You don’t need to worry about anyone. You don’t need anyone to worry about you. Of course, you wouldn’t understand.”
Ling Qingxiao looked at her in silence. It wasn’t fair.
He hadn’t been born the Celestial Emperor. His power, his status, he’d clawed his way toward them, step by painful step. When Luo Han met him, he had already achieved everything, already stood at the summit. Naturally, she had never seen him struggle through wind and rain.
But if he could choose, he would have rather been someone else entirely. Even if it meant losing everything, power, prestige, the years of effort he’d poured into the Heavenly Realm, he would have gladly given it up.
Ling Qingxiao sat on the edge of the bed, locking eyes with her. “You want to leave that badly?”
Luo Han couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her tears fell uncontrollably. “He might be in danger.”
She hadn’t expected herself to cry. Covering her eyes with both hands, she turned her face away, unwilling to let Ling Qingxiao see her like this. He watched her for a long moment, then pulled her into his arms. His embrace grew tighter and tighter. He wished he could offer her all the beauty in the world how could he bear to let her cry?
As her shoulders shook, as she wept helplessly in his arms, Ling Qingxiao’s iron will, once so unshakable collapsed like a crumbling mountain. In that moment, he finally understood what it meant to be defeated.
He heard his own hoarse voice say, “All right.”
Luo Han vaguely heard his reply. Thinking she’d misheard, she shifted in his embrace and asked, “What did you say?”
But Ling Qingxiao didn’t answer. Instead, he gently cupped the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair and kissed her. This was the boldest he had ever been.
He had always loved her with restraint, but this time...he couldn’t hold back. What was meant to be a brief touch turned into something uncontrollable, like a dam breaking, unstoppable.
His kiss was just like the man himself, intense, deep, utterly dominant. Luo Han was caught off guard, completely enveloped in his presence. She had no room to resist, could only gasp for breath beneath his unrelenting desire.
Their kisses grew wild, desperate. Ling Qingxiao’s hand was at her waist, drawing her closer, until their bodies were nearly fused. Luo Han, overwhelmed, leaned back, and finally collapsed onto the bed in a breathless daze.
One hand cradled her neck, the other braced beside her. Ling Qingxiao hovered above her, panting heavily. He had stopped himself by sheer force of will, any further, and there would be no turning back.
Luo Han’s breathing was equally erratic. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she struggled to steady herself. When she looked up, she met his gaze, searing and intense, as though he wanted to carve her into his very soul or chain her there forever.
They locked eyes for a long time before Ling Qingxiao said, “You win.”
“There was never a winner or loser,” Luo Han murmured, wrapping her arms around him. “Trust me. I’ll find a way. I promise.”
Behind her, Ling Qingxiao’s eyes dimmed with sorrow. Luo Han, with a child’s unwavering faith, truly believed that as long as one tried hard enough, all problems in the world had a solution. But Ling Qingxiao knew that wasn’t always true. Still, he couldn’t even bear to let her feel guilt.
He said nothing. As if he really believed her words, he pulled her close and whispered, “All right. I’ll wait for you.”
—
Ling Qingxiao had led the Zhongshan clan for two thousand years. He had ruled as Celestial Emperor for four thousand. He had long grown used to taking, to possessing, to commanding.
He had once used every means, even breaking his own principles just to keep Luo Han by his side. And now, he let her go.
He personally prepared everything for her departure, healing elixirs, enchanted gear, the sacred Bodhi root, and the ring filled with memories from her former life.
The day she left, Ling Qingxiao dismissed the attendants and escorted her to the pavilion where she had first arrived in this world. Everything was ready. The clouds began to churn. The vortex of time slowly opened.
Just before stepping through, Luo Han stopped and turned to look at him. He was dressed in white court robes, just like when she had first met him, cool as moonlight, untouched by dust. A gust of wind swept through, whipping his sleeves like banners in a storm.
Seeing her pause, Ling Qingxiao smiled and nodded. “Travel safely. Take care of yourself. And from now on, no more hunger strikes.”
Luo Han wanted to rush back and say something, anything, but the time vortex had already activated. The spatial tether bound her tightly. She couldn’t move. She could only lock eyes with him across the storm.
“Wait for me,” she shouted. “I’ll come back to you.”
Ling Qingxiao stared at her, as if trying to burn her image into his soul.
“All right,” he said.
The vortex closed. Luo Han’s figure disappeared into the storm. Ling Qingxiao stood motionless for a long time. Eventually, he turned and walked away.
The palaces of Da Luo stretched endlessly before him, quiet and cold. The starlit trees in Jade Purity Palace had long since dropped their leaves. The stillness felt like she had never been there at all. Everything looked familiar.
But Ling Qingxiao knew from this moment on, the Heavenly Palace would never be the same again. Life was a journey against the current. From now on, he was alone again. Ling Qingxiao took a few steps toward Jade Purity Palace, then had to stop. A dull, heavy ache throbbed in his chest, as if something had been torn out of him, he was no longer whole.
The wind whistled quietly in his ears. Ling Qingxiao closed his eyes in sorrow. If he had never met Luo Han, he might have learned to live this kind of life. But she had come. She had entered his world, thrown it into chaos, and just when he had begun to fall she left without looking back.
There is no greater sorrow than to gain, only to lose again.
—
Luo Han had traveled through time and space several times, she could be said to have experience. The energy that fueled this journey came from Ling Qingxiao; the spatial anchor was the broken root of the Bodhi Tree in her hand. With Ling Qingxiao and the Bodhi Tree involved, both reliable to the extreme, her only uncertainty was the catalyst.
The catalyst was the most elusive part and the most crucial. She had traveled to the ancient era because of demons, Xiheng, forbidden arts, so many threads tied her fate to that time, giving her the necessary catalyst. That return had made sense. But what had triggered her first crossing?
For the longest time, Luo Han hadn’t understood. Now she did. Her catalyst was that she would one day return.
The moment the Bodhi Tree and the Black Tortoise opened the vortex, it was already destined that she would fall back again, that she would return to the battlefield of gods and demons, and meet Ling Qingxiao, who nearly cut her down.
But this time, this crossing, she couldn’t tell what the catalyst was. That could wait. Right now, what mattered most was Ling Qingxiao’s inner demon. As Luo Han pondered, the vortex stopped. She stepped out and found herself deep in a remote forest. The swirling gate closed behind her. She looked around but couldn’t recognize the place.
Where...was she? After surveying the landscape to no avail, Luo Han gave up on trying to determine her location by terrain. She wasn’t a scholar, this kind of thing was Ling Qingxiao’s domain.
Thinking this, Luo Han cheerfully opened the Heavenly Dao interface and pulled up the map. She wasn’t smart, didn’t memorize things well, didn’t love studying but she had a cheat.
With the map’s guidance, she locked onto the direction of the Celestial Palace and sped forward. But deep woods were treacherous, despite her careful course corrections, she still ended up lost.
White mist thickened on either side. Cautiously, Luo Han pushed forward. She could sense it, a powerful presence nearby. Before she could grasp her situation, the scenery shifted. Just moments ago, she had been in a forest. Now, ocean waves lapped on either side. Fine silver sand shimmered at the shoreline, rising and falling with the tide.
Luo Han froze. This scene...looked familiar. She squinted toward the waves and a chill swept down her spine. Instinctively alert, she turned sharply around. Power already gathered in her palm, but the moment she saw the person behind her, Luo Han stood dumbstruck.
“Ling Qingxiao?”
He had seen her too. Luo Han had assumed she returned to the Heavenly Era, near the time she’d vanished, but seeing this Ling Qingxiao, she wasn’t so sure.
Had she come to the right place?
Ling Qingxiao’s gaze rested quietly on her. His eyes were dark — so dark that not even light could escape them. “It’s you. We meet again.”
Luo Han didn’t speak. She couldn’t.
Ling Qingxiao seemed unsurprised by her silence. He walked toward her, unbothered by any danger. “You said you’d always be there, but you broke your word. You’re so cruel. Not even in dreams do you visit me anymore. I can only see you in illusions.”
He stepped close and gently cupped her cheek.
“This is the last illusion in the heavens. After this one ends...where will I go to find even your shadow?”
Tears welled instantly in Luo Han’s eyes. Her voice trembled. “Ling Qingxiao, it’s me.”
He gazed at her, gentle in motion, but with utterly lifeless eyes. Cold, distant, unreachable.
Ling Qingxiao seemed almost wistful. “An illusion that talks. That’s rare. And the touch feels so real...I almost can’t bring myself to kill you.”
“It really is me.” Luo Han tried to convince him, took the initiative to grasp his hand. “Feel it, I’m warm. I’ve really come back.”
Those words, “I’ve come back”, finally broke through his defenses.
Ling Qingxiao flinched. He knew he had to stop. This delusion, this pitiful self-comfort, had to end. Frost bloomed at his fingertips. If things went as usual, the figure before him would shatter like porcelain, beautiful, delicate, and gone.
But this time… Luo Han didn’t vanish.
His fingers trembled violently. He couldn’t bring himself to say what he was thinking, it was too cruel. Luo Han wouldn’t come back. Without hope, there would be no disappointment. But her tears fell. She flung her arms around him.
“I’m sorry. I made you worry again.”
Ling Qingxiao didn’t move for a long time. He couldn’t tell whether this was an illusion crafted by some advanced magic or whether he had sunk too deep into despair, lost in his own inner demon.
Slowly, he raised his arms and embraced her. He knew this was likely a trap, the moment he held this image, he would be struck down. But what did it matter?
He had searched for her endlessly, day and night. The empty Celestial Palace, the missing piece of his soul, the friends they had once shared, every moment had been a torment. Even a lie was better than despair.
He held her tightly. And yet the expected fatal strike never came. Ling Qingxiao had a terrifying thought and quickly smothered it. He wouldn’t let himself hope. Without hope, he couldn’t be crushed.
Footsteps sounded outside the mist. Soldiers of heaven drove away the fog. Zou Jibai rushed in and saw the scene before him.
The young Celestial Emperor stood holding a woman, his expression neither joyful nor sorrowful, just painfully still. Zou Jibai had broken free of the illusion the fastest and brought the others to help.
Ling Qingxiao was unmatched in swordsmanship, formations, flight, but when it came to illusions it was his most well-known weakness.
It was known throughout the Six Realms that once peerless prodigy, now the Celestial Emperor, had one weakness: illusions. Every time Ling Qingxiao encountered an illusion, he would be injured. Illusions reflected one’s deepest vulnerabilities, for some, it was wealth; for others, power. But Ling Qingxiao’s illusions always took the same form.
A woman. His fiancee, missing for four hundred years.
Zou Jibai had watched Ling Qingxiao emerge, bloodied, from illusions countless times. For someone as powerful as Ling Qingxiao, how could a mere figment harm him? Yet when the illusion bore Luo Han’s face, even knowing it wasn’t real, he still couldn’t avoid the blow.
Zou Jibai had felt helpless. Like many in the Celestial Palace, he thought: if the emperor couldn’t break free, then at least keep him away from illusions. But it was like opium, Ling Qingxiao couldn’t quit. Only within illusions could he see Luo Han again. Even if it hurt, he didn’t care.
Zou Jibai couldn’t stop him. All he could do was try to minimize the damage. When he finally broke free from the illusion himself, he rushed to find Ling Qingxiao hoping to interrupt before the injuries grew too severe.
But this time, he was late. The moment he realized how much time had passed, dread clenched his heart. He arrived and began tearing the illusion apart from the outside. He had imagined countless scenarios, but never expected to see Luo Han.
Zou Jibai froze. For a long time, he could hardly believe what he was seeing. “Luo Han?”
Luo Han sensed someone approaching and subtly nudged Ling Qingxiao’s hand, urging him to stand properly. The illusion faded, replaced by the rush of fresh air. Ling Qingxiao turned back, eyes fixed on Zou Jibai.
“You...can see her?” he asked.
Zou Jibai shivered. The question made his skin crawl. He rubbed his arms awkwardly and stammered, “I...I think so?”
Ling Qingxiao stood dazed, unable to react. Luo Han sighed quietly and held his hand tightly. “It’s me. I came back.”