Chapter 94

News of Ling Qingxiao’s impending visit to the Demon Realm for Ye Zhongyu’s wedding spread quickly. Not long after, Zhongshan received two unexpected visitors.
Within the Hall of Fortune and Peace, Ling Qingxiao sat at the head seat. He lifted a hand faintly, completely devoid of courtesy.
“The Patriarch and Matron of the Su Clan,” he said flatly, “to what do I owe the visit?”
Su Yinyue’s parents, seated as guests, exchanged helpless smiles at his unmistakable coldness.
Su Mother tried to bridge the distance, her tone honeyed: “We heard you were injured some time ago. Have you recovered? We’ve wanted to visit, but affairs in Lingshan have been chaotic...alas, we were tied down. Zhongshan and Lingshan have always shared deep ties. Your uncle always said you were destined for greatness. It's a pity—because of the engagement between the Su and Ling families, he couldn’t express his support too openly. Who would’ve thought you'd be switched at birth by that wretched Bai woman?”
The injury she referred to was from over a year ago, during Ling Qingxiao’s climactic battle with Ling Xianhong. He had indeed spent months recovering. That Su Mother could bring up something so old with a straight face was...impressive.
Ling Qingxiao sat ramrod straight. He calmly poured himself tea, replying coolly, “It was Ling Xianhong who orchestrated the switch, not Bai Lingluan. If you wish to curse someone, curse him.”
Su Mother blinked in surprise at his bluntness. Su Father quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Your aunt speaks too directly. She means well, but she has a poor way of expressing it.”
Ling Qingxiao held the cup in his hand without drinking, fingers turning it slowly. So now, to win him over, they were calling themselves “uncle” and “aunt”?
Too little, too late.
Had they said such things a few years earlier, he might’ve genuinely treated them as family. He might’ve given his heart to Lingshan, worked tirelessly on their behalf.
But that time had passed.
It wasn’t about being “busy.” What, they’d been busy for a thousand years? He’d lived in Zhongshan all that time, and never once had they come to him with kindness. Every time they visited, they treated him like a shadow—an illegitimate child unworthy of attention.
Now that he’d risen—conquered his enemies, stood above the very people who once ignored him—they suddenly wanted to play loving relatives?
What a joke.
Where were they when he needed someone most?
The only one who had stood by his side from beginning to end, through the darkest times, was Luo Han. She had descended into his world like a comet, lifting him from the depths and standing with him as he climbed back into the light.
Now, suddenly, Su Father and Su Mother wanted to lay claim to him—because of some pitiful “uncle” title?
Laughable.
This was a man who had dared to imprison even his own father. What made them think he would care about filial piety?
With a sharp clink, Ling Qingxiao set the teacup down.
“Patriarch Su. Matron Su,” he said, tone steely. “Let’s not waste time on empty pleasantries. If you have something to say, say it. I have better things to do than indulge in your roundabout nonsense.”
Patriarch Su had only meant to smooth things over for his wife, but now he too was left humiliated. His expression soured with embarrassment, yet when he thought of the daughter still stranded in the Demon Realm, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and speak up.
“Forgive the disturbance, Lord Ling,” he said, rising to his feet and bowing respectfully. “To speak frankly, I’ve come today to ask for a favor.”
He bowed low again, his voice earnest: “Our unfilial daughter, Su Yinyue, has been missing ever since she entered the Demon Realm. My wife and I have made several attempts to bring her home, but the demons are cunning and refuse to release her. In a moment of carelessness, Yinyue was taken across the realms. The border between the Celestial and Demon Realms is heavily guarded, and I cannot cross over myself. And so the days dragged on, and her return remained uncertain.”
He paused, sighing heavily. “Yinyue is willful and headstrong, but she’s still an unmarried maiden. Staying in the Demon Realm for so long is a stain on her reputation. As her father, I ask humbly: when you attend the wedding in Lei Lie City, could you...bring her back?”
Su Mother also rose and bowed deeply. “Please, Lord Ling. If you help us, we will be forever in your debt.”
Ling Qingxiao swept his sleeve, evading their bow, and his tone remained cold: “She’s grown. If she doesn’t wish to return, I can’t force her. Please rise. I’m afraid I cannot help you.”
The moment they heard his refusal, both Su parents grew visibly agitated. Until now, their sorrow had been restrained and dignified, but now the raw urgency and despair beneath surfaced.
Indeed, blood runs deeper than anything else.
Su Mother couldn’t hold back anymore. Her tears fell freely as she said, “Lord Ling, there are no outsiders here. I won’t pretend any longer. We know...she wasn’t kidnapped. She left of her own will. But she’s still our daughter! Now Ye Zhongyu is about to marry another, and Yinyue is still living in his manor as an unmarried woman. How will that look?”
Her voice broke with grief. “I hate her for her foolishness, for her lack of pride—but she’s our only child. What choice do we have, as her parents?”
Her tears were real. It was clear she hadn’t slept well in a long time. The grand hall fell silent. Su Father’s expression was weary and bitter. Even Ling Qingxiao was struck by a deep silence.
He couldn’t deny it—having parents and not having them made a world of difference.
What he had once longed for so bitterly, Su Yinyue had taken for granted. The beloved are always reckless, for they’ve never known the fear of being unloved.
What a cruel joke. Those with love trampled on it. Those without clung to the mere idea of it.
Ling Qingxiao did not pity Su Yinyue—but at this moment, he had to admit, he envied her.
Even after such disgrace, her parents were still here, begging—lowering themselves before someone they once dismissed, just to bring her home.
Su Father, seeing Ling Qingxiao’s silence, steeled himself and knelt.
Gasps echoed in the hall, and Ling Qingxiao immediately waved his hand, casting a ripple of spiritual energy that held the man in place.
“There’s no need for this. Speak clearly. Do not degrade yourself,” he said.
Su Father stayed frozen mid-motion. Su Mother wiped her tears and choked out, “I know you look down on us. The Su Clan wronged you—too many times. We don’t dare ask for your forgiveness. That debt is ours to bear. But Yinyue...she’s our only child. The last of our bloodline, after tens of thousands of years.”
“She’s young. Foolish. But we are her parents. How can we watch her walk down a ruinous path and do nothing?”
Her voice dropped low. “Please. As one descendant of the Yinglong Clan to another—help her. Save her.”
Ling Qingxiao’s heart, though hardened, could not remain unmoved.
“I will do what I can,” he said finally. “But I cannot promise she will return. If she refuses, I will not force her.”
The relief on their faces was instant.
“Thank you, Lord Ling!” Su Father said eagerly. “If she dares defy you again, don’t hesitate. Do whatever you must—bind her and bring her back if it comes to that.”
Ling Qingxiao nodded. “Very well.”
These were her parents’ own words: if necessary, bind her and bring her home.
Relieved, the Su couple finally relaxed. Patriarch Su, knowing that one must show sincerity when asking for help, added, “I have nothing grand to offer in return—only this meager token of appreciation. Please accept it, Lord Ling.”
He then handed over a deed—transferring a massive stretch of land along the Zhongshan–Lingshan border to Ling Qingxiao. Not only that, but several profitable estates, routes, and trade networks were included. Clearly, he had gone all-in to secure Ling Qingxiao’s support.
Ling Qingxiao accepted it without hesitation. Gifts freely offered had no reason to be refused.
Having made their request, the Su couple knew better than to linger with false courtesies. If it were anyone else, they might have stayed to make small talk and exchange pleasantries. But in front of Ling Qingxiao, they didn’t dare waste another moment. They bowed and took their leave.
Only once the hall finally cleared did Ling Qingxiao rise from his seat in the Hall of Fortune and Peace and make his way back to the Hall of Radiance.
That was Luo Han’s residence.
She was inside, painting and sketching as usual. When she heard the sound of the door, she didn’t even look up.
“You’re back.”
The gloom clinging to Ling Qingxiao’s heart scattered instantly. The word “back” soothed him more than anything. His lips curved faintly as he sat down across from her.
“The Su couple came just now.”
Luo Han had already heard. She’d chosen not to appear—she had no interest in seeing irrelevant people. From his tone, though, she could tell the conversation had not gone well.
“What did they want?”
“What else?” Ling Qingxiao said with a sigh. “It was about Su Yinyue, of course.”
Who wouldn’t be troubled with a daughter like that?
Luo Han dipped her brush into ink and continued painting. “Ah, the hearts of parents. Perhaps only parents can love someone with no conditions.”
A loose strand of hair slipped across her face. Without thinking, Ling Qingxiao reached out and gently tucked it behind her ear.
“Not always.”
“Mm?”
He thought for a moment, then said, “Most things in this world follow logic—cause and effect. But two things defy all logic. One is a parent’s love. The other...is affection.”
He paused, voice soft.
“Beyond blood ties, there will always be someone in the world...who loves another, asking for nothing in return.”
As Ling Qingxiao spoke, his fingers gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. No one could continue painting calmly under such conditions. Luo Han set her brush down and smiled, raising her eyes. “No expectations?”
His hand stilled briefly before he amended his words, “You’re right. Only parents love without motive. Even between husband and wife, there is always something sought.”
And indeed, he too had desires—what he sought was to walk the rest of his life with her, to sit beneath the heavens, hand in hand. So yes, his love had purpose.
Luo Han couldn’t help but laugh. She could tell—Ling Qingxiao was probing her feelings. And the more she indulged him, the bolder he became.
Her “artwork” was done for now. She didn’t bother cleaning up, leaving it to Ling Qingxiao, who willingly tidied the paper, brush, and inkstone, washing the bristles with practiced ease. Once everything was set in order, he asked, “Will you come with me to the Demon Realm?”
“Of course,” Luo Han replied without hesitation. “Aside from those five hundred years in the Middle Era, we still owe each other another five centuries. Don’t even think about slacking off.”
Ling Qingxiao felt a pang in his chest. He didn’t know whether to be happy or to sigh. Five hundred years more without parting was indeed a blessing—but Luo Han kept emphasizing that fixed number...
It lodged in his throat like a fishbone.
Rather than dwell on it, Ling Qingxiao deflected. “I’m glad you’re coming. The official pass from the Heavenly Palace should arrive soon. Once we have it, we’ll set off.”
Luo Han didn’t catch the subtle trap in his wording. She simply nodded. “Alright.”
With the Celestial Emperor’s approval, their clearance to leave was handled swiftly. Since this was a formal mission, they first took a teleportation array to the border of the Celestial and Demon Realms. From there, they boarded a celestial airship that soared across the Milky Way, blazing a trail into the heart of the Demon Realm.
The wedding was ostensibly to celebrate Ye Zhongyu’s marriage—but everyone knew the truth: it was a stage set for confrontation between immortals and demons. Rumor even had it that the Demon Realm had invited emissaries from the Beast Realm as well.
A wind that stirs from the gentlest grass will one day become a storm. What looked like a lively celebration was, in truth, a gathering storm beneath a thin veil of festivity.
The Demon Realm was vastly different from the Celestial Realm. Where the Heavens shimmered with light and vitality, clouds of celestial energy drifting lazily through the air, the Demon Realm was dark and heavy, filled with jagged stone, wastelands, and bone-dry deserts. As they ventured deeper, the ambient demonic energy thickened, the oppressive climate growing ever more stifling. Luo Han, long accustomed to the clear aura of the Celestial Realm, found herself increasingly uncomfortable.
When they finally reached Lei Lie City, they were greeted outside the massive gates by one of the Demon King’s retainers.
“Lord Ling, we’re honored you’ve made the journey,” the man said loudly. “It’s unfortunate—the King and the Red Lotus Demon King left days ago on a hunt. When word of your arrival reached us yesterday, we immediately sent for them. They’ll return by tomorrow. I beg your forgiveness for not being able to host you properly tonight.”
“It’s of no concern,” Ling Qingxiao replied. He stood before the towering city gate, his white robes stark against the gloomy backdrop of the Demon Realm. “Our arrival was sudden. There’s no need to trouble the King. Let him do as he pleases.”
As they spoke, many of the local demons had begun gathering around, casting glances at Ling Qingxiao from the shadows. Demonic men were typically tall and brutish, with muscular frames like living mountains. A serene, ethereal celestial like Ling Qingxiao was a rare sight indeed.
The retainer, though smiling, observed him carefully. As a cultivator of demonic energy, he could feel the sword aura emanating from Ling Qingxiao—it was upright, boundless, and so pure it made his skin sting. Quietly, he withdrew his probing spiritual sense and said politely, “Forgive our offense. Though we cannot entertain you today, once the King and Beast Lord return, we will host you with full honors.”
Ling Qingxiao had no intention of attending such festivities. He’d said as much already—and if the demons refused to listen, he wouldn’t waste breath repeating himself.
“Do as you wish,” he replied coolly.
The retainer continued, “The King feared the inns might be too modest for your station, so he’s had a manor within the palace prepared for you. With the wedding approaching, the palace is bustling with guests, but your quarters have been arranged for utmost quiet and comfort.”
Custom dictated that honored guests be housed in neutral ground, like an official inn. But the King had personally arranged lodging within the palace. A strange move—but Ling Qingxiao didn’t oppose it.
He knew exactly what the Demon King was planning. It worked in his favor. The real reason he’d come was to investigate the Demon-Sealing Stone. Staying close only gave him better access to observe the monsters hiding within Lei Lie Palace.
While Ling Qingxiao exchanged pleasantries, Luo Han remained in the carriage, uninterested in their political posturing. She had no official post in the Celestial Court and no ties to Ye Zhongyu or Yun Menghan. She was here purely for him.
Once the formalities ended, the caravan resumed its movement. Inside the carriage, Luo Han leaned against the wall and let out a tired yawn.
She’d gone to bed far too late last night.
The Celestial delegation’s arrival was a grand affair—half the city had turned out to watch. The contrast was stark. Besides Ling Qingxiao, the other attending Celestial Lords were all slender and graceful, their beauty luminous. Their presence on the dark, crowded streets of the Demon Realm was surreal—like elves striding through a dwarven stronghold.
Meanwhile, Yun Menghan was in her chamber preparing for the wedding.
She held the red bridal veil in her hands, but her gaze was distant. A demon maid entered carrying a bowl of black medicinal brew. Noticing Yun Menghan dazed, she called out gently, “Madam?”
Yun Menghan startled, nearly dropping the veil. She lowered her head, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I was just...thinking about the ceremony and didn’t hear you come in.”
The maid said nothing more. She simply placed the bowl before her. “It’s time to take your medicine.”
Yun Menghan stared at the murky liquid. Ye Zhongyu had said it would help her adapt to the Demon Realm’s climate. He always said she was too thin—it made his heart ache.
She never thought she was underweight. But if he said so...it must be true.
The medicine tasted awful, but Yun Menghan bore it each time, enduring the nausea. If it could bring her closer to Ye Zhongyu’s ideal, she’d drink every drop. She lifted the bowl and stirred it slowly with a spoon, summoning her resolve.
She’d only taken two sips when a great commotion erupted outside.
Yun Menghan froze, spoon halfway to her lips. She glanced toward the window, confused.
“What’s going on out there?”
The demon maidservant quickly left to check. A moment later, she returned from the courtyard and reported, “It’s the Celestial Realm delegation. They’re also staying in the palace. The steward is showing Lord Ling to his quarters—hence the noise. If it’s too loud, Madam, shall I close the doors and windows for you?”
Lord Ling...
Yun Menghan’s thoughts drifted. That title used to be one every disciple of Zhongshan knew well. At every grand ceremony, every great competition, they would stand beneath the platform and listen to Ling Xianhong’s commanding voice.
She had listened for seven hundred years.
Now, the name belonged to someone else.
Second Young Master. Lord of the Ling Clan. Those years at Zhongshan suddenly felt distant and unreal—as if they belonged to another life.
And yet, only a single year had passed.
She slipped into a daze again. The maid had to call her several times before Yun Menghan sluggishly came back to her senses. Seeing her distracted, the maid reminded gently, “Madam, if the medicine cools, its effects will weaken. You should take it now.”
Yun Menghan lowered her gaze, idly stirring the bitter black liquid.
Once, she’d taken this medicine gladly, convinced it would bring her closer to the man she loved. But now, she found herself strangely repulsed. Her hand dropped, and she let the spoon fall back into the bowl.
“I’ve no appetite. Take it away.”
The maid hesitated. She opened her mouth to protest, but Yun Menghan cut her off with uncharacteristic firmness:
“I’m about to become Ye Zhongyu’s wife. Tell me—who’s the master here, you or me? I said I’m not drinking it. Take it away.”
Startled by her sudden change in temperament, the maid dared not push further. She bowed stiffly. “Yes, Madam.”
Though obedient on the surface, she was already planning to tell Ye Zhongyu.
Yun Menghan wouldn’t listen to their advice—but she would never go against his.
A woman in love was far too easy to control.
—
In another courtyard, the idle guests had finally cleared out.
Luo Han lounged on the couch, stifling a yawn.
The Demon Realm was littered with stone and sand, the skies perpetually gloomy—a perfect setting for sleep.
When Ling Qingxiao entered and saw her slumped lazily on the chaise, he sighed. “If you’re that tired, go sleep properly on the bed. You’ll hurt your back like that.”
Luo Han didn’t move.
Resigned, he walked over and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to a larger, flatter couch. She curled against the pillow, raising a hand to tap her forehead lightly. Ling Qingxiao noticed.
“Headache?”
“Not really. I just didn’t sleep well yesterday. Feels a bit woozy today.”
He sat beside her and gently cradled her neck, sliding the pillow away before resting her head in his lap. His fingers, cool and slender, pressed lightly at her temples, massaging the acupoints in slow, steady circles.
“Feeling better now?”
Better? Luo Han felt fully awake—any hint of drowsiness vanished under his touch. She didn’t dare open her eyes, pretending instead to be peacefully resting. “We arrived without notice, but we’ve been traveling through the Demon Realm the entire time. It wouldn’t have been hard to track our movements. We just happened to arrive today...and the Demon King just happens to be gone. He’ll return tomorrow. Tell me, do you really believe in coincidences like that?”
Ling Qingxiao made no comment. Whether it was a trap or not, he had already decided to probe Lei Lie Palace.
The Lei Lie King, Ye Zhongyu, and the Red Lotus Demon King were all absent today. It was, in fact, a rare and excellent opportunity.
Luo Han kept speaking, but her mind was elsewhere.
Ling Qingxiao’s lap was surprisingly comfortable—firm with just the right amount of give. Cultivation and sword training had honed his physique, but the spiritual energy running through his body made him warm and relaxing to the touch. His faint scent lingered in the air, clear and reassuring. It was...intoxicating.
“To rest drunk on a beauty’s lap, to awaken with the world in your palm.”
The ancients knew what they were talking about.
Once that thought escaped, Luo Han couldn’t reel it back in. She quickly changed the subject. “Do you really think Ye Zhongyu has reached high-rank Demon General? Even if demons advance faster than celestials early on, this speed is...absurd.”
Ling Qingxiao continued massaging her temples, reluctant to talk about such distasteful matters—especially him.
“He couldn’t have gotten that far through his own cultivation. But if he had external help, it wouldn’t be impossible. Certain forbidden methods—like...”
He trailed off.
Luo Han waited a moment, then teased, “Are you trying to avoid saying furnace?”
Ling Qingxiao sighed and flicked her brow. “Stop entertaining those demonic thoughts.”
“I’m not entertaining anything!” she replied indignantly. Then her mind flickered to the local “illustrated manual” she’d picked up yesterday. The Demon Realm’s boundaries were definitely looser—books like that were openly sold on street corners.
She had two pages left, right? Where had she put it? Did she bring it down from the carriage?
Ling Qingxiao knew her too well. One look at her expression, and he could tell she was hiding something. He nodded casually, then reached for her storage ring.
In that instant, Luo Han remembered—she had stashed the book in her ring! Her eyes flew open and she clutched her hand protectively. “What are you doing? Why are you trying to steal my storage ring all of a sudden?”
“I’m not stealing. Just open it and let me see the outer layer.”
As if I’d dare!
She’d stayed up late reading that thing—that’s why she was so tired today.
Clutching the ring tighter, she said, “Why the sudden interest in my storage ring? Isn’t that a little inappropriate?”
Perfect. That confirmed it—he was right.
Ling Qingxiao reached out, grabbing for her wrist. Luo Han yelped and twisted away, hiding her hand behind her back. “What are you doing? I’m warning you, men and women shouldn’t touch—!”
He wasn’t fooled.
With her arm pinned behind her, he simply picked her up. One arm wrapped around her waist, the other reached behind her back. Luo Han struggled furiously, but they were both already sprawled across the couch.
The chase had narrowed the distance between them to almost nothing.
But just as they were locked in that ridiculous, undignified tangle—
A sudden crash echoed from outside.
They both froze.
Luo Han turned her head. Through the half-open window, she caught a fleeting glimpse of someone’s shadow vanishing into the courtyard.