Xin Wu smiled wryly. As always, he paid no heed to Li Ye’s dismissal and stepped forward carrying a soul-nurturing lamp, saying languidly, “I’m not here to persuade you, just to borrow a place to stay.”

Li Ye gave him a cold sidelong glance.

Xin Wu shrugged and pointed upward, “Even with all those immortals coming back to life, the world will still be in chaos for at least a few decades before returning to normal. It’s not safe out there—your place is better.”

Li Ye remained silent, wearily withdrawing his gaze and continuing inward with a sweep of his sleeve.

His palace remained as before—red walls, blue-green tiles, elegant pavilions. The palace maids, conjured from the palace lanterns, had likely not seen anyone for days. Upon seeing him, they hurriedly went to fetch freshly made soup.

Li Ye stared at it with pale lips, not moving.

The palace maid, ignorant of the sorrows of life and death, merely assumed he didn’t want chicken soup today and went to bring his usual favorite—roasted corn.

The fragrant corn was placed on the low table. Xin Wu stood opposite and watched as Li Ye’s expression grew increasingly worse, the murderous aura around him intensifying. Sensing something amiss, just as the foolish maid was about to fetch more food, he swept her up and retreated from the great hall.

Behind them came a tremendous crash. Cups, plates, and the low table had all been reduced to powder.

…

…

Xin Wu pressed his lips together and sighed softly.

Immortals generally weren’t troubled by emotions. Like him—he had lived carefree for tens of thousands of years, never considering love a matter of importance. It could be present or absent; it wouldn’t affect him either way.

But once one truly encountered something important, it was like being flayed alive—every organ aching.

He was still fortunate; he had never possessed it to begin with, like walking on level ground. But Li Ye had possessed and then lost it, like climbing to a peak only to fall overnight.

Proud as he was, how could he bear to let others see his misery?

Shaking his head, Xin Wu showed rare thoughtfulness by sending the palace maid away. He also left the main hall, heading to a remote courtyard at the back.

Inside the room was chaos of broken dishes, with only the frequently used soft couch remaining intact.

Li Ye sat upon it, red-eyed and breathing heavily.

He had thought himself the master of every calculation, yet never expected she would take this path.

Wasn’t she afraid of death? Didn’t she love him and couldn’t bear to leave him? How dare she open the Gate of Life and Death? How could she open the Gate of Life and Death?

Her voice emanated from the Mirror of Illusions thrown at his feet. Li Ye hatefully turned away, his lips pressed tightly together.

“I love him so much, I will surely return to find him.”

Her smiling voice echoed throughout the empty great hall. Li Ye’s chest heaved as he grabbed the Mirror of Illusions, ready to smash it. But halfway through the motion, his knuckles turned white with strain, and in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to throw it down.

How could she bear to fob him off with such pretty words?

Soul scattered, soul scattered—even if he truly became the ruler of the highest heavens, he couldn’t retain even half a wisp of her soul. How would she come back to find him?

The suffocating pain spread from his throat down to his heart. Li Ye leaned his head back against the edge of the bed, like a fish in dried-up ruts, struggling to swallow.

Outside, the sun rose and set. The alternating light and darkness caused no change in his pupils. He seemed to be silently pondering why she would make such a choice, yet never arrived at an answer.

After an unknown length of time, Li Ye finally moved.

He began collecting everything he could find that carried her essence—soft blankets, bedding, teacups, clothes… and even himself.

Cutting off a piece of his flesh, Li Ye’s eyes brightened slightly. His left hand formed a seal, and using these items, he created an “Er’er.”

A puppet imbued with her essence.

As if finally finding a place to rest, Li Ye took the puppet into his arms, carefully nuzzled her cheek, then held her tight, burying his head in her shoulder.

Something suddenly burned him.

Li Ye started, looking down in confusion. He removed the sachet that had been hanging at his waist all along.

Inside the sachet was an eastern pearl, the size of a baby’s fist.

Perhaps due to excessive grief, he couldn’t immediately recall what this object was or why it was on his person. He just stared at it blankly, watching it flicker with light.

After a long while, Li Ye’s misty eyes finally focused.

He stared fixedly at the pearl, light erupting in his eyes.

……

“The High God has decided to trust this humble immortal for once, seeing how obedient I am.”

“Trust you in what matter?”

“Trust that this humble immortal’s heart is true and will never betray the High God.” Er’er clenched her fist, her gaze determined. “Having become the High God’s disciple, this humble immortal shares life and death with the High God. Even if heaven strikes with thunder, this humble immortal would never do anything harmful to the High God.”

After speaking, she very decisively took out an eastern pearl and presented it before his eyes with both hands: “I humbly request the High God’s favor.”

Giving him the host of her Jie Yuan meant that her life and death were at his discretion. She would never speak of what she had seen and heard today.

……

His thumb lightly caressed this beautiful yet impractical treasure. After remaining rigid for a long time, Li Ye suddenly let out a hoarse laugh.

“You madwoman,” he muttered in rebuke, yet the light in his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Rising unsteadily, Li Ye retrieved his Phoenix-Slaying Blade, using the blade as a soul-nurturing vessel to hold the eastern pearl. Then he cut open one of his veins, infusing it with his divine blood.

The blood flowed violently. The Phoenix-Slaying Blade, startled, hummed once and tried to withdraw. Li Ye gave it a cold glance: “Don’t move.”

The blade froze, whimpering pitifully.

Soul nurturing wasn’t meant to be done this way—who could withstand so much divine blood? Besides, soul nurturing was a long-term plan. Even with the Jie Yuan, it would depend on her cultivation. His forcing growth this way would only backfire.

Li Ye didn’t care about any of that.

He wanted her to come back to life.

Xin Wu had been staying in the rear courtyard for half a month, properly refining the surrounding spiritual energy to nurture Long Xu’s soul, when unexpectedly he inhaled a wisp of Li Ye’s bloody aura.

This man’s blood was so domineering that even just its scent nearly extinguished the soul-nurturing lamp. Xin Wu hurriedly protected the lamp’s flame, then erupted in anger, rushing toward the main hall.

Indeed, the bloody scent was even stronger in the main hall.

Striding in, Xin Wu gritted his teeth in frustration: “Li Ye, you’re tens of thousands of years old—are you still resorting to self-harm?”

The person in the hall was focused on letting his blood flow, not even raising his head.

Xin Wu frowned, looking closer. Only then did he see that the blood was flowing toward a glowing Jie Yuan host pearl.

“Hey!” Taking three steps in two, Xin Wu blocked him, sucking in a cold breath. “Have you gone mad?”

Li Ye looked up, his eyes containing a hint of ferocity: “Let go.”

“If I let go, your wife will be gone!” Xin Wu shook his head. “This thing can’t withstand so much of your blood. If you continue, the pearl will shatter!”

Li Ye’s face darkened, looking at him with complete distrust. Xin Wu laughed bitterly in extreme anger, wiping away his blood to show him the pearl.

Sure enough, a fine crack had already appeared on the once-smooth surface.

His face paling, Li Ye quickly withdrew his hand. The ninety-thousand-year-old supreme ruler of the world now resembled a child who had done something wrong, looking helplessly at the pearl, then raising his head to look at him.