Zhongshan Dijun’s face was pale, staring somewhat comically at his own hands. Just like that, inexplicably, half of his Zhuyin Darkness had been swallowed by the Sea of Parting Hatred.

All around was deathly silence. The gods were also stunned by this bizarre phenomenon.

The black mist enveloping the Sea of Parting Hatred was Zhuyin Darkness, and what gave the demon clans their power of repeated regeneration was the Qingyang Clan’s divine power of rebirth. These facts were well known throughout the divine realm, except that both clans were formidable, so the gods tried to avoid bringing this matter out into the open for discussion.

But no one could have imagined that the Sea of Parting Hatred would actually devour new Zhuyin Darkness, and after swallowing it, would grow even larger. Now the Sea of Parting Hatred, which had been like viscous ink, began once again to fill with black mist. The battle generals felt a crushing sense that everything would have to start all over again.

“Quickly report the situation of the Sea of Parting Hatred to Yuhua Palace!” Emperor Gouchen made a decisive judgment. “Zhongshan Dijun, it seems the Zhuyin Clan cannot approach the Sea of Parting Hatred. Your Majesty should not linger, lest something unexpected occur.”

When Zhongshan Dijun left with the battle generals of the Yihai Division, he still couldn’t quite believe what had just happened in that instant.

The lost Zhuyin Darkness could be condensed anew with divine power given sufficient time, but for at least several thousand years its might would be greatly diminished. This could truly be called an undeserved calamity.

Although they had successfully dealt with the Great Lord Jade Rat’s mischief, the atmosphere in the Wuchen Division was actually more oppressive than usual. Emperor Gouchen stood within the great formation gazing at the black mist slowly spreading through the Sea of Parting Hatred, unable to speak for a very long time.

A battle general at his side tried to console him: “Your Majesty Gouchen, perhaps this is also a good thing. If the Sea of Parting Hatred expands again along its original trajectory, we could take this opportunity to completely annihilate the demon clans in the lower realm.”

At least they wouldn’t have to worry about it ejecting fragments outward again.

Emperor Gouchen shook his head and sighed: “How can the Zhuyin Darkness of the current Zhongshan Dijun compare with that of the Zhongshan Dijun from two generations ago? Moreover, with only half remaining, I fear there won’t be enough time.”

But there really was no other solution to be found. He pondered deeply for a long while, then suddenly ordered: “Bring me paper.”

White paper was respectfully handed to him. He bit his fingertip and wrote out a densely packed line of blood script, sealed the envelope, and looking around, saw that the injured member of the Qingyang Clan from earlier was sitting under the clear light of the formation examining his wound. He immediately called out: “You there, from the Qingyang Clan, come here.”

He handed the letter to Shao Yi, who had floated gracefully over, and solemnly instructed: “Return to the upper realm and deliver this letter to Emperor Qingyuan at Yuhua Palace. After the turbid qi has been expelled, you may come back down.”

Shao Yi smiled faintly and nodded: “Yes.”

He flew elegantly out of the great formation, put his fingers to his lips and blew a long whistle. Soon, a massive vermillion phoenix flapped its wings and landed before him, lowering its head to affectionately nuzzle his chest.

Zhi Xi had been watching him fixedly from a distance the whole time. Seeing that he was about to leave just like that without saying a single word to her, she could endure it no longer and chased after him, stammering as she mustered her courage to speak: “Shao Yi, you were injured… injured because of saving me. Let me… let me escort you back to the upper realm?”

Shao Yi turned back with a gentle smile: “No need to trouble yourself, Senior Sister. I must be going. The tasks in the Wuchen Division are tedious and demanding. Take care of yourself, Senior Sister.”

Zhi Xi stared blankly as the vermillion phoenix beneath him spread its wings and took flight, disappearing into the sea of clouds in the blink of an eye. The sound of the phoenix’s wingbeats grew more and more distant, and it felt as if her heart was also moving farther and farther away from her.

Twenty thousand years—she had only just arrived, and how could he… just leave like this?

A tremendous unwillingness tugged at her. She swiftly mounted her xiezhi and rode the wind in pursuit from afar. After chasing for over a thousand li, Shao Yi finally commanded the phoenix to stop and turned around to look at her with an expression that was half-smile, half-not.

“Senior Sister?” His voice lowered.

Zhi Xi herself felt it was utterly absurd, and couldn’t help but flush red, not knowing what to say.

Hurricane winds raged through the clouds. Shao Yi’s long robes and long hair were blown about wildly, the jewel on his forehead trembling minutely. His tone was very gentle, very soft, yet carried a sharp chill: “Go back. Be good.”

It was like this again. Although they had rarely been together, his attitude was always so ambiguously intimate, and he had forcefully saved her time and again.

That rescue at Mingxing Palace, that conversation gazing out at the Sea of Parting Hatred in the lower realm—these made her feel she should be different from the warblers and swallows that usually surrounded him. Perhaps he regarded her as a close confidante. Even without romantic love, there should at least be some tender affection. This notion had sustained her for over twenty thousand years, letting her find a reason for her inexplicable infatuation, letting her rush recklessly to his side.

Could this be yet another instance of self-deceiving wishful thinking?

“I’ll… only escort you to the Southern Heavenly Gate,” Zhi Xi said in a low voice.

Shao Yi let out a sigh, somewhat helpless, somewhat annoyed, and said softly: “Senior Sister, don’t cling to me, alright?”

Her body couldn’t help but stiffen inch by inch. The remnant of unwillingness made her murmur: “Then why… did you save me?”

Shao Yi laughed and sighed: “I wasn’t saving you—it was for my own sake.”

He patted the phoenix’s head, turned the cloud direction, and spoke leisurely: “I don’t want to say the same words a second time. Don’t project your naive fantasies onto me. Farewell, Senior Sister.”

*

The grass in the White Armor Courtyard was scorching hot and soft under the sun. Although it couldn’t compare to even one ten-thousandth of the Gossamer Cloud Brocade Carpet, Xuan Yi still felt that lying on it was far more pleasant than standing up.

She lay on her side on the grass, letting her clothes and hair scatter messily all over the ground. A ball of white snow was being kneaded into the shape of a dog’s head in her palm, and she was carefully carving out two pointed ears with her fingernail.

The wooden sword landed with a light “thwack” by her feet. Without turning her head, her voice lazy, she said: “I can’t do it.”

Originally she’d said that if she went to sleep early yesterday, she’d be able to get up early today and then could slip back to Zhongshan. Who knew that as soon as she left the White Armor Courtyard she’d see Fucang leaning against the parasol tree outside the gate with his arms crossed, his tea-white robe hem even covered with morning dew. She practically suspected this fellow hadn’t returned to Qingdi Palace at all—was he living at Yuhua Palace?!

Since she couldn’t escape, Xuan Yi decided to lie on the grass all day today. No matter what he said, she only had three words for him: “I can’t do it.” Her feet still hurt terribly today, as if they were broken. He shouldn’t think he could get her to move again, nor should he think she’d be foolish like yesterday because things came too suddenly.

Let him be angry, let him rage, beat her if he wants—in any case, she had dragon scales now. She feared nothing.

Light footsteps through grass approached. A large shadow blocked the sunlight. The Shenjun slowly sat down beside her, silently watching the white snow dog head she was pinching in her hand.

Not showing it to him. Xuan Yi was just about to stuff the white snow back into her sleeve when she heard Fucang say quietly: “Great Lord Negative Dog doesn’t look like that.”

How did he know she was making Great Lord Negative Dog?

Xuan Yi turned her head and asked: “Then what does he look like?”

Fucang lowered his head to look at the naive and endearing dog head in her palm—two pointed ears, round eyes, and even the fangs in its mouth were quite delicate. A hint of amusement floated in his eyes. He raised his hand and touched the white snow dog head’s ear with his fingertip: “Much uglier than this, with three rows of fangs.”

“Then when he fights, does he specialize in biting with his teeth?”

He laughed lowly: “That’s right.”

“So you were injured by his bite?” She remembered that yesterday Emperor Qingyuan had said he was injured.

Fucang still smiled but didn’t answer, only saying: “Among the ancient demon clan great lords, Great Lord Negative Dog isn’t the strangest-looking.”

She immediately asked: “Who looks the strangest?”

“Great Lord Zhanghai, I suppose—he has a pig’s head.” And he likes to spray saliva.

Xuan Yi flipped over, propping her eyes wide open in disbelief: “Don’t tell me you were injured by a pig’s head?”