The autumn wind rustled, lamp shadows swayed. Xue Yu’s voice was neither low nor high, clear and cold. After saying what she wanted to say, she became particularly silent.

Fortunately, Ji Tingxi wasn’t dealing with her for the first time. He had expected this situation and adapted well. After thinking, he said: “Xihe handles thousands of cases, large and small, every year. Suddenly searching for something from ten years ago is somewhat difficult and requires time.”

“First, tell me—who needs their case overturned?”

“Su You.” Xue Yu pressed her lips, her fine brows forming a displeased arc: “No need to search extensively—he’s among the dozen or so people brought to the judgment platform ten years ago.”

Ji Tingxi paused in his movements, repeated Su You’s name twice, then suddenly seemed to remember something: “Wait, if I’m not mistaken, this Su You is the newly promoted commander by your side, right? Your sudden desire to overturn the case—is it to give him a clean past, laying groundwork for legitimate promotion next?”

He said, “Xue Yu, if that’s the case, the lives of those who died would be too worthless. Don’t do this.”

“You’re overthinking.” Xue Yu interrupted him expressionlessly: “Within these two days, find whoever handled the investigation of this matter and accompany me to where the incident occurred. Also, to avoid accusations of bullying your people, you’d better come personally as well.”

She paused, and in the moment before cutting off the jade talisman, said clearly: “No need to fabricate any past—he was originally innocent.”

The phrase “he was originally innocent”—Su You listened, his jawline nearly taut as a single flowing stroke.

He had grown up in the muddiest, most rotten ground, heard too many unbearable curses and abuse. Even now, in a high position with peak-level strength, when he closed his eyes, all he saw were those twisted, hideous scenes.

He still remembered what bone-chilling temperature that night snow from ten years ago had when it fell on his eyelids and hands. He couldn’t forget the cold observation and endless mockery he felt when suspended on the torture rack with severed tendons in Xihe’s prison.

Through endless pain and sunless endurance, he completely understood that conscience and kindness couldn’t earn half a measure of respect or understanding from the world, but killing methods and bloodshed could.

If he could survive, everyone who bullied him, mocked him, gossiped about him behind his back, schemed against him—he would see one and kill one.

Xuan Su couldn’t escape, that couple couldn’t escape, and the people of Xihe Sacred Land couldn’t escape either.

But as the night wind gently blew, those malice-inducing thoughts that made inner demons hard to resist seemed pressed back by the lamp shadows. Even that bone-extracting, mind-carving pain became blurred.

Su You leaned against a tree with trembling branches, not making a sound for a long while, until from the spiritual talisman came Chao Hua’s hesitant voice: “Su You, is My Lady still busy?”

Only then did he move his lashes as if suddenly awakened, then pressing his prominent wrist bone, holding that gossamer-thin spiritual talisman between his fingertips, he slowly walked forward. Facing Xue Yu’s calm gaze, his voice was steady with unnatural hoarseness: “My Lady, Chao Hua has something to report.”

Xue Yu made a sound of acknowledgment, looking at the spiritual talisman: “What happened? What’s wrong in Yedu?”

“No, all is well in Yedu. It’s from Baixiong Mountain—Qiongqi has something for My Lady.”

Xue Yu raised an eyebrow: “Let him speak.”

There was a moment of silence on the other side, followed by rustling sounds, then Qiongqi Qin Qingchuan’s lazy, just-awakened tone: “Xue Yu, I have something to tell you.”

Qin Qingchuan lifted his eyelids, slowly producing a sound-recording talisman. As he activated it, he covered his ears and dodged backward.

The next moment, an elder’s furious voice flowed into everyone’s ears: “Qin Qingchuan, you can’t beat others yet insist on staying as a prisoner. You’re thick-skinned—I can’t control you. But this Feiyun Summit, if you dare lie around like this again, I’ll throw away this old face and personally go to Yedu to break your legs.”

As soon as these words finished, another elder’s voice came through, lower but equally explosive with rage: “And those thirty-plus brats from the five families following behind you—all get back here! Did Baixiong Mountain grow nails to pin down your feet? Have you no shame left? Of all things to do, you rush to be Sacred Land prisoners. You’ve completely lost face for the Demon Capital!”

Qin Qingchuan seemed accustomed to such roaring. He picked his ear unmoved: “Fine, don’t ramble about irrelevant things. Tell me, who’s laughing at me? The Jiu Feng family or the Wen family? Anyone who dares gossip can come to Yedu for an encounter—I’ll beat them to death.”

“You!” The elder was so angry he nearly fell backward: “What do you know, you piece of shit! Beat whom? A few years ago, you could still compete with Chu Yaoxiang for first and second place. Now? She’s broken through levels, cultivating diligently daily. And you? You squat in Yedu’s prison. You dare boast!”

“Chu Yaoxiang, huh.” Qin Qingchuan lay back down, responding carelessly: “It’s not like we haven’t fought before. The Jiu Feng family has always ranked first steadily. I think her strength is about the same as Yedu’s Xue Yu. I’m indeed slightly inferior. If she wants to scold, let her scold. Everyone’s been scolded by her anyway.”

“You—” The other elder was choked by his shameless submissive attitude, unable to catch his breath. Finally realizing reasoning was impossible, he issued an ultimatum: “These next two days, you’d better come out yourself. When two days are up, don’t blame me for being impolite and losing face for the Qiongqi family’s direct second young master.”

The conversation abruptly ended—clearly Qin Qingchuan had impatiently cut off contact unilaterally.

Having listened to the entire exchange, even Xue Yu couldn’t help twitching the corner of her mouth.

In Yedu’s Baixiong Mountain, the most troublesome weren’t those tediously mind-numbing minor frictions and problems, but those few young masters from ancient Demon Capital families who seemed to be feuding with Xue Yu, living in Baixiong Mountain, and refusing to move.

Among them, Qin Qingchuan led the pack.

Truly speaking of status, he and Xue Yu were equivalent—top-tier bloodline, considerable strength. Could you treat him like an ordinary prisoner? Impossible.

But when he truly threw tantrums, the Palace Investigation Department couldn’t ignore it. Others couldn’t restrain him, and if the Lord of Yedu intervened, it became bullying a junior. So every time, Xue Yu had to step forward and fight him. If she won, he’d submit.

No attending the April 6th market gathering, no leaving Yedu—fine, one fight, and everything was negotiable.

Qin Qingchuan seemed to use a crazy method to push himself. His cultivation, which had stagnated for over a decade of wandering the mortal world, skyrocketed, but he still lost by a narrow margin in every confrontation.

He was the type who wanted to fight more after each defeat, so he simply brought many followers to settle in Yedu, occasionally complaining about too few mountain ranges and noisy neighbors, fighting Xue Yu or Chao Hua when his skills got rusty—living quite contentedly.

“If you want to leave, you can. Ask Chao Hua to issue travel permits.”

Xue Yu’s tone was rarely relaxed. She remembered that in her previous life when Feiyun Summit opened, this same situation had occurred.

For families like theirs, Feiyun Summit was an absolutely unmissable opportunity. Even if Qin Qingchuan didn’t want to move, those old family heads in Demon Capital absolutely couldn’t agree.

In her previous life, Xue Yu had made Demon Capital pay enormous guarantor fees, but this time, remembering that Qin Qingchuan hadn’t taken advantage of Yedu’s vulnerability to launch surprise attacks and had even slightly helped obstruct things, she waived this procedure.

“Deal.” Qin Qingchuan lazily agreed, then added: “Don’t touch my mountain territory—can’t say I won’t be back.”

“Also, that newly appointed commander of yours—heard he’s even more formidable than Chao Hua. Where is he? When will you let him show his face and fight me?”

Xue Yu pressed her brow, hearing these cocky words similar to her previous life, thinking “indeed so.”

In her previous life, Song Heng didn’t understand what kind of people lived in Baixiong Mountain, nor did he care. After becoming Heavenly Emperor, all he thought and did was gather the entire Heavenly Court’s power, deploy a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers to forge an ancient great formation, then suddenly break into Yedu and, without a word, deploy the formation to seal the mountain.

Moreover, it wasn’t an ordinary suppression formation. Once deployed, the demons, ghosts, and spirits below faced purgatory—the weak died immediately, while the strong, like Qin Qingchuan, could still hold on but were far from comfortable.

So her father didn’t even have time to settle accounts or compete with Song Heng—he had no choice but to personally suppress the formation, bearing half its power.

In that situation, with the court and mortal demon race fighting so desperately, this formation was like oil poured on a raging fire.

If the Lord of Yedu didn’t protect the lives of those demons and ghosts in Baixiong Mountain, not to mention whether he could watch so many who had done wrong but already received punishment suffer annihilation, just speaking of Demon Capital alone.

Undoubtedly, upon receiving news, Demon Capital would immediately explode.

They would fully deploy troops, Sacred Lands would be forced to get involved, and thus, the mortal world would truly descend into chaos.

Yet this action by the Lord of Yedu became, in Song Heng’s mouth, voluntary cooperation in suppressing demons and ghosts.

“Once you leave, don’t come back. Yedu doesn’t have so much space for you to live in.” Xue Yu refused mercilessly.

Cutting off the communication talisman, Xue Yu looked toward Su You, glanced at the sky: “Come, let’s interrogate the Luozhou Prefect.”

Arriving at the Law Enforcement Hall, Xue Yu wiped her hands with a handkerchief. Just as she was about to enter the separately partitioned interrogation room, she saw Su You step forward first.

When he wasn’t smiling, his gaze was extremely aggressive, the corners of his eyes slightly hooked upward, carrying a sharp edge difficult to handle. But those emotions displayed before outsiders—he only needed to slightly press his lips to suppress them all.

“I’ll go.” His pupils were extremely dark, his words revealing stubborn insistence: “I’ll go. My Lady rests in the inner room.”

Xue Yu was slightly stunned. Her index finger tapped the table edge once, neither high nor low, then she nodded: “Fine. I’ll watch from here. If there’s anything uncertain, send someone to ask me anytime.”

“He probably won’t confess. Sacred Land soul-searching techniques don’t work on officials above the third rank who’ve received court appointments.” Speaking of this, Xue Yu couldn’t help sighing softly at Qiu Tong’s meticulous arrangements.

If he hadn’t put his mind toward such devious schemes, he might not have failed to become a good emperor.

The mortal world might very well have been a different scene entirely.

Su You turned toward the interrogation room. After a full half hour, he emerged covered in the scent of blood. When an attendant handed him a warm cloth, torchlight fell on his high nose bridge, creating an ambiguous, mottled deep shadow that made his eyes seem particularly cold and unfeeling.

The attendant couldn’t help lowering his brows, not daring to look closely.

After a while, Su You methodically threw the cloth aside, glancing at the Luozhou Prefect who was barely breathing: “Take him down. Guard him strictly.”

Having said this, he turned around. The moment he pushed open the door, those cold, detached emotions were freely and perfectly concealed. He transformed again into that upright, handsome, clear-minded Commander.

During this half hour, Xue Yu had dozed very lightly. When Su You pushed the door open, she opened her eyes briefly. Seeing his silhouette, her eyes half-closed again.

Watching this scene, Su You felt an indescribable mixture of emotions.

She was too tired, almost unable to stop for a moment. Yedu’s affairs, mortal world affairs, cultivation matters—all pressed upon her. So many intricate relationships, so many difficult-to-judge entanglements, yet she handled them better than anyone else.

Before others, she always appeared calm, rational, and strong.

Xue Yu pressed her drowsy forehead, about to force herself to clarity and open her eyes to ask about the outside situation, when Su You walked to her in a few steps, then half-crouched down, his voice clearer than mountain wind: “My Lady, rest a bit longer.”

“No need to worry.”

“Leave everything that follows to me.”

In the shallow breathing, Su You slightly raised his chin, watching her trembling eyelids, his knuckles slowly pressing against his ribs, feeling his limbs and organs strangely melding together into one continuous ache.

He rigidly maintained his unchanged posture and form. At a certain moment, he couldn’t help looking away, as if shifting his gaze to that small golden tripod incense burner. Before long, he looked back with lowered lashes like raven feathers.

He felt the heat rising to his ear tips, his gaze becoming vacant with confusion.

So this was what it felt like to like someone, to feel heartache for someone—this subtle, careful, and indescribable sensation.

Su You didn’t stay long. He forced himself to rise quickly and left silently.

Outside the door waited several groups of people—some from the panicked Law Enforcement Hall, some from the frantic Chenyu Pavilion. Seeing someone finally emerge who could make decisions, they all swarmed forward.

Besides this, the prefect’s confession documents and the Heavenly Mechanism Book’s case closure report still lay untouched on the desk.

Su You lowered his eyes, his lip color pale, issuing orders methodically.

“Reorganize the Law Enforcement Hall. Arrest all those involved who concealed and failed to report.”

“The prefect confesses and accepts punishment. Chao Nian, contact the court to petition the Human Emperor for punishment and select new officials for appointment.” Su You looked toward Chao Nian, his words spoken lightly but carrying shocking danger: “Also convey my order—the Luozhou teleportation array was cursed by the Feitian Diagram spirit Xuanji, potentially harming city residents. It’s now sealed pending destruction.”

Chao Nian immediately understood, making a “you’re brilliant” gesture to Su You before turning to handle business.

Each teleportation array required an enormous cost and expense to create. Destroying Luozhou’s array, even the wealthy imperial family would truly ache for some time, yet they couldn’t complain—only swallow this bitter loss in silence.

After giving these instructions, Su You looked toward Chenyu Pavilion’s Ruan Kun, his voice cold: “Lead the way to see your young master.”

Thousands of li away in the imperial city, deep palace courtyards with red walls and green tiles, tree shadows rustling.

In Taiji Hall, Qiu Tong listened to bad news arriving from all directions. Facing that dim, lusterless dragon’s breath, his vitality severely damaged, even the strength to sit in his chair required forceful support.

Upon hearing that Luozhou Law Enforcement Hall’s secret network was completely destroyed and the teleportation array demolished, Qiu Tong couldn’t help feeling dizzy for a moment.

He coughed violently, then slapped the desk, squeezing out three hateful “good” sounds.

“Have all the Astronomical Bureau people assembled?” He looked sinisterly at those kneeling before him: “Look at the dragon’s breath—what do you all say? Where are your remedial measures? Hmm?”

Imperial anger—one “hmm” was like a scythe hanging over everyone’s heads, making them tremble with fear and anxiety.

“Chen Qiu, you speak.”

The white-haired elder called by name inwardly groaned, approaching with a bitter expression. Without a word, he kowtowed: “Your Majesty, please calm your anger. The dragon’s breath was only half to begin with, the relic of the last azure dragon from ancient times, impossible to find in the world—”

“I’ve heard these words many times already.” Qiu Tong extended his pale palm, speaking word by word: “I ask you for remedial measures.”

Facing the emperor’s merciless eyes, Chen Qiu’s mind went “thud,” as if seeing his imminent death and his entire clan’s exile.

After silent moments, he gritted his teeth, hardened his heart: “Your Majesty, permit me to report. After our overnight deliberation, we’ve conceived a method that should theoretically work, only no one has verified it, so we dare not speak carelessly about its specific effects.”

Now, even treating a dead horse as if it were alive was better than having no solution at all.

Qiu Tong leaned back, speaking heavily: “Speak.”

According to reason, in ancient times, the azure dragon, heavenly gui, and Jiu Feng occupied the top three positions on the demon beast rankings. The first two are now extinct, no longer seen in the mortal world, but Jiu Feng remains. Since the dragon’s breath has lost a strand of life essence, using Jiu Feng’s to supplement it would work.”

“Only to ensure effectiveness, impure-blooded Jiu Feng clan members might have no effect. Perhaps, we could try using the life essence of a Jiu Feng direct bloodline heir—it would likely succeed.”

As his words fell, silence spread everywhere. Even Qiu Tong’s pupils contracted for a moment.

Jiu Feng.

The powerful race that had occupied first place in Demon Capital for tens of thousands of years, with status comparable to Xihe. For such top-tier bloodlines, direct lineages often had only one branch. Having this idea was like wanting to cripple a Xihe Sacred Land inheritor’s hand.

Moreover, Demon Capital—those were all madmen.

Qiu Tong pressed his temples with some fatigue, asking the Grand Eunuch hoarsely: “I remember the Jiu Feng direct bloodline is a woman who often loves coming to the mortal world and once smashed two of my city gates, correct?”

Bai Su’s voice was strained as he respectfully replied: “Correct.”

“Since she often loves playing in the mortal world, investigate who she’s usually close to, who she plays well with. Don’t act rashly yet—report everything you discover truthfully to me.”

“Whether through kind persuasion and sincere touching, or threats and inducements with controlling spells, someone must help me accomplish this matter.”

Qiu Tong composed his emotions, his withered finger touching the crack on the dragon’s breath surface, then gradually moving to his eye corner: “At thirty years old, I’m already aging, growing wrinkles at my eye corners.”

In the mirror, he could even find one or two white hairs at his temples.

This path was too difficult—once begun, there was no talk of abandoning it.

Why couldn’t he be an emperor with decent cultivation who could live thousands of years? The human race possessed the most massive population and the most united spirit—why couldn’t they exterminate the mortal world’s demon race and drive Sacred Lands back to their own territories, honestly entrenching themselves like Demon Capital?

Such a three-way balance would truly allow distinct racial boundaries and bring peace to the world.

Before that, the sacrifices made and prices paid by the human race were destined to be considerable.

[Author’s Note: Darlings, “Heavenly Gui” is a divine beast I created exclusively after thoroughly searching the Classic of Mountains and Seas (calmly vegetable-like)]