Suspect?

Li Ye stopped in his tracks.

Er’er was startled and quickly struggled to explain: “I didn’t do it, it wasn’t me.”

“Hmm.” He believed her without hesitation.

Softening with relief as she hung on his shoulder, Er’er thought contentedly that it felt wonderful to be trusted unconditionally.

However, before she could enjoy the feeling for long, Li Ye seriously said to Dui Ren: “She can’t break through Xiaxin Palace’s barrier to kill Dui Feng. You should suspect someone else.”

Er’er: “…”

The logic was sound, but why did she suddenly feel like biting someone?

Baring her teeth, she scratched him twice with her claws and muttered: “Without any grudge or enmity, even if I had the ability, I wouldn’t have done it.”

…

…

Not to mention that Dui Feng’s tragic background already evoked sympathy, but considering the higher gods protecting him within the Dui clan’s immortal sect—each one not to be trifled with—she would have to be out of her mind to venture into their territory and harm him.

But Dui Ren, his eyes red, continued to stare at them, showing no intention of letting them pass.

“She may not be able to break the barrier, but someone can. She may have no grudge, but someone does.” Several higher gods came to stand beside Dui Ren, blocking Li Ye’s path. “She’s an outsider who happened to be escorted out by Long Xu just as trouble occurred at Xiaxin Palace. It’s difficult to clear her of suspicion. We ask Higher God Li Ye to understand Dui Ren’s grief over losing his brother and cooperate a little.”

Li Ye raised his eyes to survey the group, showing slight impatience: “If you want to trouble Xin Wu and Long Xu, go directly to them.”

Everyone froze, not expecting him to speak so bluntly. Somewhat embarrassed, they exchanged glances, neither making way nor moving to seize anyone.

The situation became tense, with no one speaking for a long time, until Xin Wu slowly descended to the ground.

“If you want to interrogate, then let’s proceed.” He lowered his eyes and said with a half-smile, “Let’s get on with it.”

Long Xu got up from the side, her face ashen. She didn’t look at Xin Wu again, but upon hearing these words, her hands involuntarily clenched into fists.

He didn’t believe her.

Even though they had been incredibly intimate just before, even though she had practically offered her heart at his feet, he still wouldn’t believe her.

It didn’t matter.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and stood up straight, swaying slightly.

She hadn’t expected anything anyway.

A strong wave of sadness was blown like a wisp of smoke by the wind, passing in front of Er’er, making her sneeze uncomfortably.

Li Ye heard it and turned her back into his arms, asking casually: “Caught a chill?”

“No.” Rubbing the tip of her nose, Er’er looked past his arm toward Long Xu, slightly frowning: “She looks somewhat pitiful.”

Following her gaze, Li Ye glanced over and snorted: “Does the Princess of the Western Sea need your pity?”

“It’s not about her status.” Twisting in his arms to find a comfortable position, Er’er settled in and whispered, “I just think she looks pitiful standing there all alone.”

Do all mortals have such excessive compassion? Li Ye felt somewhat disdainful. No longer planning to leave, he held her and stood to the side, saying: “You don’t even know her. She has always been alone.”

Long Xu was born under the Lone Star of Calamity. Since her birth in the Western Sea, she had been banished to a solitary tower. After transforming into human form, she was further expelled from the Western Sea to wander among humans.

Coincidentally, though Li Ye typically didn’t concern himself with others’ affairs, he had some impression of Xin Wu because he often sought fights with him. Once, when Li Ye went to the mortal realm, he happened upon Xin Wu and Long Xu.

The two must have just met then, not in some romantic setting, but in a mass grave where many soldiers had just been buried.

Xin Wu practiced the demonic path and needed to absorb resentful energy, making the burial ground an excellent feeding ground. As for Long Xu, because her cultivation was incomplete and her tail had been exposed to mortals, she was burned nearly to death and happened to be discarded at the burial ground.

Xin Wu had no interest in a half-dead dragon, but the half-dead Long Xu grabbed his sleeve.

“I taste better than them,” she raised one eye from the mud, numbly offering herself.

Elegantly withdrawing his sleeve, Xin Wu crouched down and looked at her briefly, sneering: “You’re not even completely dead. How could I eat you?”

Long Xu seemed to understand and suddenly smiled at him: “Then help me on my way.”

“Not interested.” Xin Wu flicked his sleeve and walked away.

But after taking a few steps, he returned.

Long Xu was very beautiful, with a fair face buried in mud, possessing a beauty that persisted until death.

Xin Wu liked beautiful things. After contemplating for a long time, he rescued her.

Li Ye couldn’t be bothered to watch what happened next—repaying a life-saving grace with one’s body was too clichéd.

But what he hadn’t expected was that later, when Long Xu ascended to the Nine Heavens and married, it was to Dui Feng.

“Now that I think about it, I understand,” he frowned slightly. “No wonder he came to challenge me that time and almost won.”

That battle took place the night before Long Xu’s wedding.

Er’er listened, dumbfounded, her small hands clutching his robe into a bunch: “So you’re saying Higher God Xin Wu also had feelings for Long Xu?”

“Hard to say.” Li Ye shook his head. “That man…”

He was intimate with everyone, indifferent to everyone—how could he truly like anyone? Even now, with Long Xu injured so badly, he didn’t even glance at her. How could that be someone who cared?

Looking away, Li Ye felt Er’er’s forehead again: “Are you alright?”

“I am.” Er’er extended her hand. “Just a small cut from a tile.”

Pursing his lips slightly, Li Ye reached out, his fingers brushing over her wound.

“Wow.” Watching the wound disappear before her eyes, Er’er shook her head. “You practice healing too? This is even more impressive than Kan Ze—it doesn’t hurt at all now.”

That was no healing technique; it was the art of transferring injuries.

Long Xu watched from a distance and shook her head slightly. No wonder the Phoenix-Slaying Blade was with that young girl. Cold as he was, Li Ye would even transfer such a minor injury to himself. He must truly care for her.

How nice, she thought, looking away to glance at her hand with a half-smile.

It was a bloody mess.

The person she loved stood three zhang away from her, casually answering questions from the assembled higher gods.

“I left Xiaxin Palace before dusk.”

“Where I went is not for disclosure, but the barrier guardian surely saw me leave.”

“Long Xu?”

Only when asked about her did he finally turn, glancing at her from afar.

“No,” he looked away, speaking indifferently. “I didn’t see her.”

A breeze blew, making her dark hair flutter behind her. Long Xu stood quietly, suddenly feeling very tired.

“I killed him.” Her bloodied hand raised.

Er’er was still whispering with Li Ye when she unexpectedly heard this, startling her into jerking her head up.

Crack.

Her head collided directly with Li Ye’s chin.

Hearing the sound, Er’er frantically reached up to touch him, though her eyes remained fixed on Long Xu.

“Seriously?” She frowned. “She killed Dui Feng?”

The cool touch brushed and pressed around his lips. Li Ye lowered his eyes, reached out to hold her small hand, and clicked his tongue softly.