So that’s what it meant.

Yunque looked at her eldest martial sister with some worry, but found her expression extremely calm, as if she had merely heard a few ordinary pleasantries. She nodded gracefully, not even moving her eyes: “I understand.”

She breathed a great sigh of relief.

In the entire Ten Thousand Demons’ Den, Yunque admired Ruyi the most. She could both take things up and let them go. It wasn’t that she had never been injured or in dire straits, but she never seemed to take things to heart. Like the sun setting in the west but always rising in the east, despair had never appeared in her eyes.

The Demon King retreated to the ancient mansion to await news from the palace. Ruyi also mounted her horse as if nothing had happened and returned to the Immortal Meeting Wine House.

She took Yunque with her, personally healing her wounds, then cheerfully chatted with Zhou Tingchuan for a while and ate a large bowl of noodles for her evening meal.

Everything was no different from usual.

Except when she entered her dreams.

Ruyi uncontrollably dreamed of that Tonghe Bridge. On the bridge, there was no one else, only her and Shen Qiyuan, with white mist curling around them, seeming both illusory and real.

She knew this was a dream and was very clear that words spoken here wouldn’t reach his ears, but looking at him, she still smiled and asked: “Did I do something wrong?”

They were merely in opposing camps. They could face each other with blades and swords, could fight and struggle—all of that was understandable. What she couldn’t understand was why they had to be “even.”

Since he wanted to be even, why had he summoned her to the mortal realm in the first place? Or had he regretted it in that instant, discovering he still couldn’t accept a demon?

Then what were all those previous displays of deep affection?

If only he had been a bit more false in his emotions, she wouldn’t have been moved. But what happened was that she had taken him to heart, yet he had grown tired of her?

Anger belatedly gripped her heart as she asked angrily: “What gives you the right?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the dream scattered, and her limbs regained sensation.

Ruyi opened her eyes to see the embroidered canopy above her head glowing faintly in the moonlight.

Tonight’s moon was exceptionally bright, illuminating the paving stones of Lin’an’s seventy-two districts like lustrous jade. The willow tree in the small courtyard had also sprouted some new branches, its soft twigs extending outward from the courtyard wall, tenderly squeezing out a hint of new green.

A rush of urgent hoofbeats sounded from the south, breaking through the newly emerged green. The rider dismounted at the east gate of the Shen manor and hurried inside.

“Lord Shen?” Song Zhenshan called out in a deep voice.

Shen Qiyuan opened his eyes from where he leaned against soft pillows, glancing at him before saying, “Tomorrow is your wedding day. Why have you come at this hour?”

“My lord also knows that tomorrow is my wedding day.” Song Zhenshan drew a breath, saying incredulously: “Why would you fight with Miss Liu today and end up so injured?”

Shen Qiyuan didn’t answer, only looking down at the white cloth wrapped around his chest.

He had thought of things too simply, believing that as long as he concealed it from the gods and Buddhas, the two of them could still be together. It wasn’t until the moment she killed someone before his eyes that Shen Qiyuan realized with shock that people could change.

The current Liu Ruyi had already become the cruel great demon that he, as the Azure God, must deal with. If he stubbornly remained with her, he would become a vengeful ghost, helping her kill.

His thoughts churning, more bloodstains seeped through the white cloth.

“Fine, I won’t ask you about that.” Seeing this, Song Zhenshan changed the subject: “I’ll only ask you this—do you know that when the heavenly punishment fell, it was Liu Ruyi who joined me in constructing the dome?”

Shen Qiyuan looked at him with a blank expression, as if he hadn’t understood.

Song Zhenshan pressed his lips together: “I admit I also have prejudices against demons—it’s not even prejudice, they truly are cruel and bloodthirsty without humanity. But that day, to spare you from worries, Liu Ruyi expended half her demonic power to help me support the dome.”

Demons wouldn’t save the world, but for his sake, Liu Ruyi, despite being terrified of thunder, had stood firm on the platform without retreating a single step.

Shen Qiyuan slowly listened to everything, his face paling by two shades.

Song Zhenshan watched his throat convulse painfully, the dam he had finally built in his eyes rapidly collapsing, as if it would burst forth in the next instant.

However, this man forcibly swallowed everything back down, swallowing until blood vessels appeared at the corners of his eyes.

“I’ve already settled things with her.” His voice was hoarse.

Song Zhenshan’s brow furrowed quickly, then smoothed.

He knew there were thousands of years of entanglement between these two. Being “even” was fundamentally impossible, but if Shen Qiyuan could say this, it meant his reason remained intact and he still remembered his duties as the Azure God. Then, Great Qian still had hope.

Compared to petty romantic love, the lives of all people under heaven were naturally more important. He had no grounds to object.

Only…

Song Zhenshan sighed: “Tomorrow is the joyous day for Jinghong and me. I hope you two will give me face and not start fighting at the scene.”

Only then did Shen Qiyuan remember that Liu Ruyi was an honored guest personally invited by Jinghong’s written invitation, and would attend tomorrow’s wedding feast.

“Then I won’t go.” Closing his eyes, Shen Qiyuan’s voice was light as a sigh. “I’m too seriously injured to move. Please forgive me.”

Song Zhenshan felt some regret but didn’t insist in the end.

Before leaving, he said to Shen Qiyuan: “She’s now a proper citizen with legitimate registration, and that household registration was arranged by you. If you want to act against her now, you’ll inevitably bear the crime of murdering an innocent.”

These words were more of a way out than a reminder.

Shen Qiyuan understood, his eyes half-closed: “I will only act when she uses demonic arts to harm people.”

“Good.”

The door opened and closed again as Song Zhenshan left. The surroundings quieted, with only the faint sound of refugees coughing from the neighboring courtyard.

Shen Qiyuan looked up at the sky and found the moon blindingly bright.

“What use is it?” he mocked.

The moon gave him no response, only casting his shadow alone on the wall.

Matters of love were a tug-of-war between reason and impulse. When reason won the tug, it was called heartlessness; when impulse won, it was called deep affection. Neither was something that could last long, which made human love seem particularly shallow.

With thousands of years of rich experience, Ruyi naturally understood this principle long ago.

However, on the day of Jinghong’s wedding, she still angrily rose early and carefully groomed herself. Powder piled to make her skin snow-white, cinnabar makeup creating flower-red lips, her green dress thin and revealing a stretch of fair collarbone, her sash soft and suggesting an alluring charm.

Yunque, watching from the side, nearly fell out of her cage.

“What is the eldest martial sister doing?” She gasped. “Surely she’s not going to see that person today?”

“I’m merely attending the ceremony by invitation.” Ruyi maintained perfect composure. “There will be so many people in the ceremonial hall, whether I encounter anyone isn’t up to me to decide.”

“Then it would be better not to go,” Yunque muttered.

Not go?

Ruyi laughed coldly.

She didn’t like hiding things in her heart. Since Shen Qiyuan had remained silent in her dreams all night, she might as well go ask him face-to-face today. Only after asking clearly would they truly be even.