Chapter 84

Ling Zhongyu’s sudden appearance made him the center of attention. Su Yifang hurried to him in panic. “Why did you come out? You’re still recovering—you shouldn’t be outside in the wind. Yinyue, I asked you to care for your cousin—is this how you look after him?”
Su Yinyue looked wronged. She’d wanted to defend herself, but when she looked up and saw Ling Qingxiao’s calm stare, she froze with a jolt. Her tone immediately softened: “I tried to stop him, but Cousin insisted…”
Yun Menghan and Bai Lingluan had also arrived. With Su Yinyue there, Yun Menghan couldn’t get close and could only look on worriedly from afar. Bai Lingluan, on the other hand, moved freely and now hovered close to Ling Zhongyu, offering words of comfort and concern. Ling Zhongyu coughed lightly and then raised his head, speaking resolutely, “Father, Mother, don’t blame others. I insisted on coming. Since Second Brother has doubts, I am willing to prove my innocence in front of everyone.”
As he spoke, he exposed his wrist. A healing cultivator stepped forward to take his pulse. After a moment, he reported to Ling Xianhong, “Master, Eldest Young Master’s pulse is weak—his heart meridian was damaged by the demonic attack. He requires rest. Other than that, I detect nothing unusual.”
More healers came forward to examine him. Their conclusions varied slightly, but one thing was clear: Ling Zhongyu’s body showed no traces of demonic energy or evil influence.
Ling Xianhong, already suspicious of Ling Qingxiao, was now furious after hearing these diagnoses. “Outrageous! You claim he was tainted by demonic energy—where is it? You assaulted your elder brother in public, showed no remorse, and now you dare accuse him of collusion with demons? You’ve truly disappointed me!”
With everyone present, Ling Xianhong berating Ling Qingxiao in front of the steward could not have been more scathing. The attendants and steward bowed their heads in silence. Bai Lingluan averted her gaze as if she hadn’t heard a thing. Others stepped away to avoid involvement, while the accused himself—Ling Qingxiao—remained utterly unmoved.
He looked toward Su Yinyue. She immediately turned away, refusing to meet his eyes. He turned to Yun Menghan next. She bit her lip, clearly distressed by his unjust treatment. But in the end, she stayed silent and said nothing.
Perhaps she was afraid. Or perhaps...she felt no need to speak.
Ling Qingxiao found it laughable. He’d dealt with demons for five hundred years—these petty tricks couldn’t fool him. Of course Ling Zhongyu had no demonic energy on him. It had already been transferred...to Yun Menghan.
When Ling Zhongyu let go that day, Su Yinyue had been right beside him—there was no way she hadn’t known. And Yun Menghan, who had been so close to Ling Zhongyu—could she really not have noticed anything?
But in the end, neither said a word. These were his cousin and his junior sister.
After the examination, Ling Zhongyu seemed to be in pain again. Bai Lingluan and Su Yifang were both distressed and immediately arranged for him to be escorted back. Su Yifang was so focused on her son’s condition that she didn’t even reprimand Bai Lingluan for overstepping.
Everyone gathered around Ling Zhongyu, making a grand entrance—and now a grand exit. As the crowd surrounded him and moved off, Su Yifang wanted to go too, but the matter here wasn’t settled yet, so she forced herself to stay behind. Her body remained, but her heart had clearly left with her son.
Seeing his favored eldest son so weakened only stoked Ling Xianhong’s fury. Barely holding back until Ling Zhongyu left, he finally slammed his hand down on the armrest and roared, “You wretch! What more do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’ve already explained,” Ling Qingxiao said coolly, not even sparing him a glance. “Believe me or not, it’s up to you. His injuries have nothing to do with me. I don’t care, and I won’t interfere. I only ask one thing—how do you plan to handle my dragon core?”
When Ling Xianhong heard this, he was utterly incredulous. “Your elder brother is gravely injured, and you show no concern—yet all you can think about is your dragon core? He’s in this state because of you!”
Su Yifang had initially still hoped this was all just a misunderstanding. She felt guilty for her past neglect of Ling Qingxiao and didn’t want to wrong him again. But hearing him speak so coldly of her beloved son now made her explode with fury. All her guilt turned to a cold sneer. “Well. How wonderful. I tried so hard to make it up to you for all the hardship you endured over the years, and this is how you repay me? Truly worthy of being Bai Lingluan’s son—crooked from the root. Your brother is like this because of you, and you have the nerve to claim it has nothing to do with you? And to only care about your dragon core?”
Ling Qingxiao kept telling himself to stay calm and rational, not to get emotional—but hearing his parents accuse him again and again like this, how could he not care?
“I already told you. There was demonic energy in his body. If I hadn’t stopped him that day, he would’ve made an even bigger mistake.”
“Enough!” Ling Xianhong roared. “I am deeply disappointed in you. Even now you show no remorse. Zhongyu has always yielded to you—look at yourself! You harmed your brother to curry favor with the Celestial Palace, slandered him by accusing him of consorting with demons, and even after being exposed, you still show no regret. Still spouting nonsense about demonic energy? Everyone saw clearly just now that there’s no trace of corruption in his body. Just to seize the position of heir, you’ve stooped to this level? You are the greatest shame of my entire life!”
“The greatest shame of your life.” Ling Qingxiao slowly repeated those words, his gaze fixed on Ling Xianhong. “Is that what I am to you?”
Su Yifang thought this had gone too far. She was angry at Ling Qingxiao too, but thinking of how he’d been switched at birth and mistreated all these years, she couldn’t blame him entirely. Ling Xianhong’s words were far too cruel.
Enough, she thought. In the end, she owed him too much. Su Yifang forced herself to endure and tried to ease the tension. “Master, the servants are still here—don’t let outsiders see us become a joke. Ling Qingxiao, hurry and apologize to your father.”
Ling Qingxiao looked at Ling Xianhong and Su Yifang, and then swept his gaze around the Funing Hall. Every person he looked at immediately lowered their head.
His heart grew colder and colder.
His father wouldn’t believe him and called him the disgrace of his life. The two women who bore and raised him both favored the other son. His cousin and junior sister clearly knew the truth, yet still sided blindly with Ling Zhongyu.
And his brother—his own flesh and blood—was willing to go this far to push him out.
These were his family, his blood kin.
Ling Qingxiao fell silent, a sharp frost collecting around his eyes and brows, a chill nearly becoming tangible. Ling Xianhong saw his defiance and grew even angrier. “Disloyal, unfilial, heartless, unjust—how unfortunate that the Ling family produced a beast like you! I regret raising you!”
“Disloyal, unfilial, heartless, unjust.” Ling Qingxiao’s gaze turned razor-sharp. He let out a soft laugh and nodded. “Very well.”
He said nothing more and turned to leave.
Su Yifang had just wanted him to admit fault so they could smooth things over. She called out to him several times, but Ling Qingxiao didn’t stop. Su Yifang began to panic. She stood abruptly and asked, “What are you going to do?”
“I only wanted to take back what’s rightfully mine,” Ling Qingxiao said, stepping out of the hall. The bright warmth of April sunlight fell on him—and in that instant, it seemed to freeze. “But now...I want to kill him.”
Su Yifang was horrified. She instantly realized Ling Qingxiao wasn’t joking.
His tone was calm—so calm it sounded like he was talking about eating or drinking. But this was no bluff. He truly meant to kill Ling Zhongyu.
Su Yifang could no longer care about keeping up appearances. She stumbled from her seat, nearly falling in her panic. “Quick! Stop him! Stop him!”
—
After leaving Funing Hall, Ling Zhongyu quietly let a smile curl on his lips.
His expression shifted so quickly that the people around him didn’t notice. Su Yinyue supported him carefully, while Bai Lingluan finally had the rightful excuse to dote on him and hadn’t stopped fussing the entire walk.
“Zhongyu, how are you feeling? Does it still hurt?”
Bai Lingluan gazed up at him with deep concern. Ling Zhongyu absentmindedly touched his chest. “The movement just now aggravated it a little. But it’s fine—I can bear it.”
In truth, Ling Zhongyu was perfectly fine. He had been injured by the demons, but it was mostly a cover for the changes in his spiritual aura. The real injuries weren’t serious at all.
Just last night, he and Yun Menghan had spent a passionate night together, only returning to his residence as dawn approached. Not long after, Bai Lingluan and Su Yifang came looking for him. Seeing him still asleep in bed, they assumed his injuries were grave.
Bai Lingluan had been distressed and furious. “It’s all Ling Qingxiao’s fault. Like mother, like son—he’s always been twisted. He’s the one who acted out of line and then dared to frame you for conspiring with demons. If he hadn’t ambushed you at Western Sea, how could you have lost to the demons and gotten hurt so badly? And to think I poured my heart into raising that ungrateful wretch for a thousand years—what a mistake!”
Ling Zhongyu had left on the mission unscathed but returned covered in wounds, shocking everyone at Zhongshan. At first, he refused to explain anything, but when Su Yifang pressed him repeatedly, he finally said, haltingly, “It’s not Second Brother’s fault. I took his place, took your love and Father’s as well. It’s only natural he resents me. He had every reason to be angry. That strike—consider it repayment. Please, Mother, don’t tell Father, and don’t blame Second Brother.”
That statement had driven Su Yifang nearly insane with anger. Ling Zhongyu had refused to say more, but others who’d gone to Western Sea were not so tight-lipped. When Su Yifang asked around, it didn’t take long to piece the whole story together.
Ling Qingxiao had struck Ling Zhongyu during battle, causing the mission to fail. Later, Ling Qingxiao disappeared. Ling Zhongyu, in trying to heal Su Yinyue, fell into a demonic trap and was badly wounded.
He had asked for the matter to be kept quiet—but in the end, the story spread like wildfire. Not only did Su Yifang, Bai Lingluan, and Ling Xianhong learn of it, but even the outer disciples were gossiping about it.
After Ling Qingxiao attacked Ling Zhongyu, he vanished for a full six months. Not a single person saw him during that time. Half a year was more than enough for rumors to ferment into a storm. Ling Zhongyu remained constantly on guard, and when he finally heard from a servant that Ling Qingxiao had returned, the weight on his chest eased. Regardless of his supposed “injury,” he forced himself to the Funing Hall to speak on Ling Qingxiao’s behalf.
Two days ago, Ling Zhongyu had already transferred all the demonic energy out of his body. He had tested himself multiple times in private—no one would be able to detect that he had once cultivated demonic energy. Sure enough, when Ling Qingxiao brought it up, Ling Zhongyu calmly presented his meridians and let several healers take turns examining him, righteously clearing his own name.
It was Ling Qingxiao instead—lacking evidence, cold in demeanor—who ended up looking like the one without a leg to stand on. Ling Zhongyu knew when to stop. Seeing the timing was perfect, he “fell ill” and left—this both inspired pity and spared him any real risk.
The Qi Yun Heart Sutra was a demonic technique. Few in the immortal realm knew of it, but there was no guarantee no one would recognize it. Ling Zhongyu understood the importance of retreating once the goal was achieved. Staying longer might only invite trouble.
Thinking of the Qi Yun Heart Sutra, Ling Zhongyu glanced somewhat guiltily toward Yun Menghan. Yun Menghan had been kept at a distance, unable to approach. But she sensed his gaze and, looking up, smiled bashfully, her eyes full of bliss.
Caught in the dizzy haze of first intimacy, Yun Menghan was entangled in Ling Zhongyu’s possessiveness. Nearly every night, he was insatiable, demanding more than she could handle. She couldn’t distinguish between love and desire, affection and guilt. She was swept up in his demands—when he said he wanted her, she submitted. To her, this was love.
Overbearing, mature love. If Ling Zhongyu was so obsessed with her body, wasn’t that proof that he loved her to the bone?
Yun Menghan’s smile was sweet and trusting, the look of a woman peacefully waiting to be married. Seeing that only deepened Ling Zhongyu’s guilt.
He hadn’t intended to be swayed by demonic temptation, but somehow, as if something had hijacked his reason, he’d ended up storing the Qi Yun Heart Sutra, guiding Yun Menghan into cultivating it, and transferring all his demonic energy into her body. His excessive indulgence was partly desire—but more so, an effort to purge himself quickly.
Su Yinyue was the only legitimate daughter of the Su family—noble and powerful. There was no way he could treat her like that before marriage. So the only choice...was Yun Menghan.
Su Yinyue noticed Ling Zhongyu’s gaze and followed it, then sneered: “Miss Yun, why are you still here? You may be part of Zhongshan now, but this is a family matter. What are you doing tagging along?”
The words “our family” stung Yun Menghan. She looked aggrieved, turning to Ling Zhongyu with pleading eyes, silently begging him to defend her.
Hadn’t he promised to marry her? Why was Su Yinyue acting like the wife already? She was way too presumptuous!
Ling Zhongyu’s head pounded. He didn’t want to give up the one he liked, but also didn’t want to lose the one with status. The only option was to keep evading—neither confirming nor denying anything. Once he became Zhongshan’s master, he could arrange things however he liked.
Wasn’t Ling Xianhong the same? Fame, fortune, and a house full of favored women—never neglecting any. That was the best possible arrangement.
Both Yun Menghan and Su Yinyue looked anxiously at Ling Zhongyu, waiting for him to speak. But suddenly, he furrowed his brows as if in pain. Everyone was startled. Bai Lingluan quickly asked, “Zhongyu, what’s wrong?”
Ling Zhongyu frowned deeply and shook his head: “I’m fine.”
But everything about his demeanor and movement screamed otherwise—that the argument between Su Yinyue and Yun Menghan had worsened his condition. Yun Menghan immediately fell silent, and even Su Yinyue didn’t dare speak further. Bai Lingluan, seeing this scene, was furious: “Both of you shut it. Zhongyu’s already this hurt, and instead of taking care of him, you’re making him upset?”
Bai Lingluan pulled the full mother-in-law act. Su Yinyue, being Su Yifang’s niece, usually looked down on someone like Bai Lingluan. But this was Ling Zhongyu’s birth mother.
Su Yinyue could only nod submissively. Seeing Su Yifang’s proud niece so deferential made Bai Lingluan even more smug. She began lecturing: “You need to be careful. Just because you’re born noble doesn’t mean you can act however you please. A good wife puts her husband first. My future daughter-in-law needs to…”
But before Bai Lingluan could finish, a surge of killing intent swept in from afar. Though formless, it was unmistakable.
All the women froze and turned to look. On the steps not far away stood Ling Qingxiao, watching silently.
His gaze was far too calm—so calm it felt cold. It wasn’t the look one gave a person, but an object.
Bai Lingluan was terrified. She remembered she was his foster mother. Though she hadn’t given birth to him, she had raised him—and morally, she still held power over him. She forced herself to say, “Ling Qingxiao, what are you trying to do? Hurting Zhongyu once wasn’t enough? You want to hurt him again?”
Ling Qingxiao didn’t even look at her. His eyes remained locked on Ling Zhongyu. He slowly drew his sword and said,
“You claim I falsely accused you. Then prove it. Draw your sword.”
Funing Hall sat on the central axis—not far from the mission hall, where it was always bustling. Because of his “injuries,” Ling Zhongyu was walking slowly, carefully surrounded by women. Now, they were right in the center of a busy plaza.
Disciples nearby immediately sensed something was happening and stopped to watch. In just moments, the area was surrounded—three, even four layers deep.
Ling Zhongyu had no idea what was going on. Why fight out of nowhere? He’d never been a match for Ling Qingxiao in real combat. And now that Ling Qingxiao had grown even stronger—he’d have to be insane to accept a duel in front of all of Zhongshan.
Ling Zhongyu clutched his chest and coughed for a while before saying, “Second Brother, what’s the matter with you? If you want to spar, I will of course accompany you to the end. But my injuries haven’t healed yet—I’m afraid I won’t be able to give it my all.”
Injuries? Ling Qingxiao found it laughable. After seeing so many corpses over the years, he could recognize the severity of wounds at a glance. These cheap tricks of Ling Zhongyu's weren’t clever in his eyes—only foolish.
Ling Qingxiao curved his lips faintly, and without warning, drew his sword. A sharp wave of sword energy shot straight toward Ling Zhongyu.
The moment Ling Qingxiao made his move, everyone in the square was stunned. Heavens—was that really the sword aura of a Heavenly Immortal? Just how many levels had Ling Qingxiao advanced?
Inwardly, Ling Zhongyu cursed him as a lunatic! He had no choice but to leap aside. The sword energy rushed far across the square and even split the clouds behind it with a long, clear line that didn’t close for a long time.
Ling Zhongyu barely dodged the strike. When he landed, he staggered and nearly fell, only staying upright through sheer willpower. He was horrified—how had Ling Qingxiao improved so drastically in just a few short months? Worse still, he could feel that Ling Qingxiao hadn’t even used his full strength.
That was just a casual strike.
Su Yifang rushed out of Funing Hall in a panic and had barely arrived when she saw Ling Qingxiao slash at Ling Zhongyu. Her heart seized with fear. She looked at Ling Qingxiao in disbelief. “What are you doing? Are you insane?!”
Maybe he really was insane. Ling Qingxiao pointed his sword at Ling Zhongyu. In his voice, in his eyes, there was not a shred of emotion. “You’ve occupied what isn’t yours for too long. Today—it’s time to give everything back.”
Ling Qingxiao remembered what happened before they left Zhongshan, and he found it all utterly ironic. Before their departure, Ling Xianhong had gathered them together and said that after returning from the Western Sea, they would begin the matter of returning the dragon core. He even said, “In a family, there’s no problem that can’t be resolved with a proper talk.”
Ling Qingxiao had believed him. He’d truly waited, believing his parents would uphold justice and right what was wrong. During his years in the Middle Era, it was this belief alone that kept him from going mad.
But now he finally understood—it had all been a joke. At the first sign of trouble, his birth father, foster mother, all his family and friends, their first reaction was always to doubt him.
But that was fine. If they wouldn’t return it, he would take it himself.
Spiritual energy surged around Ling Qingxiao. Frost bloomed on the tip of his sword.
Seeing his movements, Su Yifang screamed hoarsely, “He’s gone mad—someone stop him!”
·
Luo Han emerged from the Abyss of Absolute Spirits, quiet the whole way.
The Devourer Beast in her spirit pouch was causing a fuss. Luo Han had no choice but to let it out.
As she dragged the beast uphill, she lectured it, “Let’s agree on this now. When we reach Zhongshan, you are not allowed to eat any flowers, herbs, or spiritual medicine outside, and definitely not allowed to gnaw on any buildings. If you misbehave again, don’t expect to ever leave the pouch again.”
The beast grumbled but had no choice—it reluctantly agreed under her threat. Luo Han was still going over more rules when, without warning, a muffled boom of thunder came from the horizon. She looked up, startled, and saw a mass of dark clouds rapidly gathering—right over the main peak of Zhongshan!
Travelers on the road and disciples descending the mountain all stopped and began pointing toward Zhongshan.
Luo Han’s heart dropped. Ling Qingxiao had gone back alone, and judging by the time...he was probably already there. And that cloud cluster—could it be connected to him?
She knew something was terribly wrong and immediately took off running. Forming a spell seal in the blink of an eye, she didn’t even have time to stow the beast away. She shouted, “Follow me!”
Please...please don’t let anything happen to Ling Qingxiao.