You can’t lift it at all, someone’s just backing you up!

—If the Phoenix-Slaying Blade could speak, it would surely roar this at the presumptuous young woman.

Unfortunately, no matter how spiritually aware, a blade was still just a blade, so it could only quiver indignantly before obediently remaining still.

Amusement flickered in his eyes, but Li Ye’s words offered no mercy: “They may not appreciate your kindness.”

“I know,” Er’er struggled to shoulder the blade, waving her hand. “Consider it resolving a problem. I don’t expect their gratitude—it’s enough if they stop bothering us. You rest for a moment, I’ll be back soon.”

Nodding slightly in agreement, Li Ye sat back in the shadows. Just as he was about to close his eyes to meditate, he felt something being placed over him.

Delicate white hands tucked a red peony-patterned satin quilt under his neck with some effort.

“It’s rather cold, cover up well,” she murmured.

Looking disdainfully at the gaudy pattern on the quilt, Li Ye wanted to say that immortals don’t feel cold—even sleeping in an ice cave, he wouldn’t freeze, being an Upper God of the Fire Path.

…

…

However, those small hands had already tucked the quilt around him and gently patted him, as if having the quilt there put her mind at ease.

His struggling movements froze. Li Ye, with a dark expression, remained wrapped in the satin quilt, watching as she shouldered the Phoenix-Slaying Blade and walked away, letting out a soft snort.

“So heavy,” Er’er complained, struggling with the blade as she walked. “He makes it look so light when he holds it. Why is it so heavy? And I can’t even use immortal power.”

“The Master’s blade is truly the master among blades.”

“The Qian clan should have ancient divine artifacts, after all, they’re a major immortal sect, they should be fine.”

How noisy.

Accustomed to Li Ye’s quietness, the Phoenix-Slaying Blade couldn’t tolerate her chatter. As soon as they left Upper Bing Palace’s gate, it lunged forward violently, causing her to take a nasty fall.

Her hand scraped against the ground, tearing away a layer of skin. Er’er got up to examine it, her lips trembling and eyes immediately reddening.

Look at this, such a pathetic sight—what could the master possibly see in her?

The Phoenix-Slaying Blade hummed, its body vibrating intensely, intending to frighten her further. But after just a couple of vibrations, a hand chop came down upon it.

Smack—

The movement was swift and fierce, landing precisely on the blade’s “seventh inch” of its back, carrying Water Path immortal power that extinguished the Phoenix-Slaying Blade’s fire with a hiss.

“This works?” Er’er rubbed her eyes, still red from tears, and muttered, “You strike a snake at its seventh inch. I never expected divine artifacts would also need to be struck at their seventh inch.”

Seeing it no longer struggling, she shouldered it again, blowing tenderly on the wound on her hand before continuing on her way.

Divine artifacts don’t have a “seventh inch,” especially domineering ones like the Phoenix-Slaying Blade. There was only one way to make it behave.

Be stronger than it.

Zhu Yan stood in another direction outside Upper Bing Palace, silently watching Er’er leave with the blade, his eyes gleaming with shifting light.

He had thought she was just an ordinary minor immortal, but it seemed she had significant origins. Someone as guarded as Li Ye had directly given her the Phoenix-Slaying Blade?

This wasn’t good at all.

Turning with a sweep of his sleeve, he knocked on the door of Upper Bing Palace.

“Enter.”

Approaching with a solemn expression, Zhu Yan bowed with his head lowered, taking a deep breath before saying: “Upper God, the gates of the Netherworld have closed. Opening them again now would certainly alert various factions.”

“I know,” the voice from above remained as coldly indifferent as ever. “Since there’s no other choice, I’ll find a pretext to go down.”

“They won’t allow it,” Zhu Yan shook his head. “This minor immortal doesn’t mean to criticize, but in this matter, Immortal Er’er truly shouldn’t have interfered. If the Upper God intends to keep her by your side, you should let her understand the weight of such matters.”

The figure on the throne responded with a listless sound.

Sensing his low spirits, Zhu Yan’s scalp tightened, but considering the bigger picture, he gritted his teeth and continued: “If this matter fails, so be it. But if Immortal Er’er continues to oppose us in the future, will the Upper God still tolerate her?”

“How could that be?” Li Ye sneered. “No one can stop me from doing what I want.”

This was the Upper God he was familiar with. Zhu Yan was almost moved to tears. These past few days, seeing the Upper God behave as if he valued a beautiful face over his domain, he had thought the sky was falling. He had worried too much—how could an immortal who had cultivated for tens of thousands of years easily develop mortal feelings?

Breathing a long sigh of relief, Zhu Yan finally raised his head.

Then, he saw the expressionless Upper God wrapped in a dazzling, eye-catching, clearly inappropriate bright red peony-patterned satin quilt.

“…”

His smile instantly vanished. Zhu Yan stared fixedly at the embroidery on the quilt’s surface, a breath caught in his throat, unable to swallow or exhale, nearly suffocating.

“Are you,” he struggled to find his voice, “are you cold, my lord?”

Following his gaze to look at himself, Li Ye coldly snorted: “I’m not cold.”

“Then this is…?”

“She thinks I’m cold.”

Shifting slightly to pull up the quilt that had slipped down, Li Ye yawned and said languidly: “Is there anything else?”

“…” There had been, but Zhu Yan felt none of it mattered anymore.

“Upper God,” he said with deep concern, “there’s a saying in the mortal realm: even heroes falter before beauty. Soft fragrance and jade-like skin have always been the tomb of ambitious men.”

Giving him a puzzled look, Li Ye remained unperturbed: “Those ambitious men of the mortal realm are merely Er’er.”

Why mention Er’er again?

Zhu Yan felt anxious, forcing himself to remain calm for a long while before saying dully: “In this minor immortal’s opinion, although Immortal Er’er’s background appears clean, her control over spiritual power doesn’t seem like something achievable by a mortal who has cultivated to immortality.”

Li Ye had naturally discovered this earlier than him.

All things in the world follow the principles of the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams. Cultivators typically excel in one path, and even after countless millennia, might not master it thoroughly. Like himself, who cultivated both divine and demonic arts, he had transcended the Five Elements and was beyond heaven and earth’s restraint.

As for her, she seemed born to accommodate all Five Elements, controlling all five paths of the Dao at will. It was only because her cultivation was still too low, not yet formidable. Perhaps one day, when she reached the pinnacle, she might be even more powerful than he.

Recalling how Er’er would spin around happily at the slightest praise, Li Ye couldn’t help but laugh softly.

Zhu Yan watched him in despair.

For tens of thousands of years, people had tried to control Li Ye using female charm. The immortal women used as bait were all more beautiful and higher in cultivation than that minor immortal. What potion had the Upper God consumed to fall precisely here?

And having fallen, he still refused to admit it.

“Keep an eye on the Qian clan,” after finishing his laugh, Li Ye returned to seriousness. “With Qian Tian severely injured, several interesting True Lords in their sect might emerge to take action.”

At this, Zhu Yan’s expression finally improved somewhat. He bowed with hands clasped: “Yes.”

The rulers of the Nine Heavens had been experiencing successive incidents recently. It was impossible that the Heavenly Dao judges had not noticed something, but until now, they had not interfered.

Li Ye rubbed the wound on his hand, his hazy eyes looking toward the Mirror of Flowers and Moon hovering beside the throne.

Was it indifference, or was something waiting for him?