I didn’t know a single word of the conversation between Xie Zhuo and Xi Wang Mu back then.

On the third of June, not seeing any eviction notice from Xi Wang Mu, “I” took it as her tacit approval and began enthusiastically preparing for the wedding.

Because “I” had just survived the tribulation of ascending to immortality, my immortal residence had been reduced to ruins. The new home would need time to be repaired, and the things needed for the wedding also had to be purchased.

So “I” arranged the tasks.

I assigned two people in total: one was Xie Zhuo, responsible for overseeing the house repairs, and the other was “I,” responsible for purchasing wedding necessities.

As a result, within three to five days, Xie Zhuo had repaired the house using his magical arts. He even added several “new items” throughout, like rocking chairs, tea sets, and beautiful bookshelves, transforming my originally simple immortal residence into a much livelier place.

But as for “I” who was in charge of purchasing things, every day after buying something, “I” would always discover new things to buy. Back and forth, it took two whole months to finish gathering everything.

“I” calculated an auspicious date myself and set the wedding for the eighteenth of August.

From that day on, “I” began writing invitation cards. And also from that day, I increasingly felt pressure from relatives and friends at Kunlun.

Xi Wang Mu’s lack of opposition didn’t mean other immortals wouldn’t object.

At that time, many people still couldn’t accept Xie Zhuo’s demon identity.

Many immortals came to persuade “me” not to marry Xie Zhuo. Some stubborn friends, seeing that “I” wouldn’t listen to reason, directly turned their backs on me.”

But when they turned their backs, “I” turned my back too. After scolding several impolite fellows and driving them out of my door, those coming to persuade me finally quieted down.

And Xie Zhuo also saw how unwelcome his demon identity was, trying to marry an immortal in Kunlun.

At that time, “I” told him: “We live our own lives, and others’ words don’t count. I won’t take them to heart, and you shouldn’t either. Time reveals a person’s true nature—what kind of person you are, everyone in Kunlun will know given enough time.”

Xie Zhuo looked at me without saying much, only gently patting my head…

Looking back now, this gesture was somewhat like petting a dog.

But at that time, I didn’t notice anything wrong.

“I” grabbed Xie Zhuo’s hand: “Trust me, I will protect you in Kunlun!”

At that time, “I” also thought I was protecting Xie Zhuo.

But in reality, he was protecting me and… the entire Kunlun.

August eighteenth, the auspicious day, our wedding day.

On this day, not a single invitation I sent out received a response.

Even Meng Meng didn’t dare come.

It seemed that in Kunlun, opposing Fu Jiuxia’s marriage to a demon had become an unspoken consensus.

Meng Meng and several other friends secretly sent me gifts in advance. They were either little spirits or had too little influence to dare be too unconventional.

However, Xi Wang Mu sent wedding gifts openly on our wedding day. This was the most official statement of position.

On the wedding night, there was no matchmaker, no witness, no relatives or friends…

“I” and Xie Zhuo, before the Yue Lao Temple in Kunlun, under the lovesick tree, pricked our palms, interlocked our fingers, pressed our palms together, and merged our blood, forming the thread of marriage around each other’s wrists.

After completing the ceremony, I brought Xie Zhuo back to our immortal residence.

In our bridal chamber, we sat facing each other. Looking at one another, we made our vows:

“I pledge to my beloved, to walk hand in hand, from dawn to dusk, never parting until our hair turns white.”

The same words, spoken from two different mouths, seemed in that instant to embody the legendary “two hearts as one” and the legendary “bound in life and death.”

Without others’ witness, we, in this small corner, between heaven and earth, with mountains as pledge and wind and moon as testimony.

“I” made a beautiful knot with the red thread on our wrists. While concentrating on tying the knot, “I” said:

“You came to Kunlun alone, you don’t like to speak much, nor do you like to reveal your emotions. You didn’t even call any relatives or friends to attend our wedding. I don’t know how you lived before… but, Xie Zhuo, I hope you won’t be so lonely anymore.”

Xie Zhuo silently and earnestly watched “me” tying the knot for him.

“I” looked up, eyes bright with intensity as they gazed at him, the red candle flame dancing across our faces.

“I stared at him and said, “From now on, we’ll always be together. I’ll talk with you, make you laugh, I will always, always like you just as I do now.”

Like a child’s promise, the most ordinary words, yet they seemed to ignite a spark of light in his pitch-black eyes.

In that light, there was my shadow, and the red candle flame, slightly flickering, rippling with waves.

His expression was gentle, his lips even bearing a rare smile.

“Alright…”

He softly responded, his voice deep.

The red thread tied around our wrists flashed with a beam of light, then vanished from sight.

From then on, year after year, it would remain tied around our wrists.

Now, revisiting this scene, I vaguely recall the day when this red thread was cut.

I also more deeply understood that the emptiness in Xie Zhuo’s eyes at that time, the extinguishing of that light, was such a suffocating and desperate moment.

In Xie Zhuo’s life, no one had ever promised to always stay by his side.

Only “I” had promised.

And I also…

Broke my word…

I cut the red thread, would no longer be with him, would no longer talk with him, make him laugh, and I also…

No longer liked him.

Cutting the red thread, retracting vows, overturning the past, completely denying both the beauty and the brokenness.

So…

He would go mad, would become obsessed, would use Pangu Fu to split open five hundred years of space and time, just to go back and “rectify his mistakes.”

He would accuse me, saying that I, who cut the red thread, had no right to talk about reconciling with the past.

He would say that the fundamental reason our marriage couldn’t continue was that I cut the red thread.

He said I was wrong.

I stood in my world, frantically accusing him of silence and concealment.

He also stood in his cocoon room, obsessively unable to see the full picture of our collapsed marriage.

In our respective biases, we drifted further and further apart, until…

This “life and death” or “reincarnation” brought everything back to the “right track.”

My soul couldn’t cry, but in the hazy white light of my soul, I gazed at Xie Zhuo through a mist. I saw the smile on his face, saw the dim light in his eyes.

I saw a soul that had wandered from the Snow Wolf Tribe finally finding the appearance of home.

“Xie Zhuo, do you… Like me a little more?”

“I” tilted my head, focusing intently on his eyes, asking him.

But this question made Xie Zhuo pause, the smile at his lips slightly receding.

What the “I” of that year saw was silence, was hesitation.

But what I see now is contemplation, is caution.

“I” held back disappointment, pursed my lips: “It’s alright, no rush, we have plenty of time.”

So, after this question, the wedding night fell into stillness.

“I thought then, we had plenty of time.

Not long after our wedding, people began disappearing in Kunlun.

This was something that had never happened in Kunlun before. Everyone naturally placed their suspicions on Xie Zhuo.

After “I” ascended to immortality, “I” commanded Kunlun’s defense forces. To dispel everyone’s suspicions about Xie Zhuo, “I” took him out on patrol every day, pushing back all the idle gossip.

“I” told Xie Zhuo: “You don’t like to talk, I’ll speak for you. You don’t like to explain yourself, I’ll explain for you.”

Later, an immortal came to “my” residence to hurl insults. Xie Zhuo dealt with that person and drove them away.

That was the first time “I” saw Xie Zhuo hit someone, and saw anger appear on his face.

Afterward, he asked “me”:

“Are you happy in Kunlun?”

“I” was certainly happy, and after reassuring him, “I” didn’t dwell on the incident with that immortal.

What I didn’t expect was that after that immortal left my residence, they died, having been eaten alive…

The rumors grew even more rampant.

Xi Wang Mu ordered “me” and Xie Zhuo not to leave the residence.

“I” didn’t disobey the order, but one night, Xie Zhuo left without saying a word.

“I” didn’t know where Xie Zhuo had gone, didn’t dare alarm others, and was even more afraid that going out to search would bring more misunderstandings upon Xie Zhuo.

“I” trusted him, so “I” quietly waited for him in the courtyard.

And now, I followed Xie Zhuo as he left the immortal residence. I watched as he found Qin Shuyan. Qin Shuyan provided him with a name—Jing Nanshou.

But Qin Shuyan’s information wasn’t enough to confirm that Jing Nanshou was an evil spirit.

Xie Zhuo said, “We’ll know by testing.”

So he found Jing Nanshou, said nothing, and attacked directly. Forced into a corner, Jing Nanshou naturally used the power of evil spirits.

With one test, it was proven.

He was indeed the immortal who ate people.

When Jing Nanshou ascended to immortality, he was already possessed by evil energy. He had long submitted to the evil deity.

But he hid it very well, and no one had discovered him.

He also thought, after seeing Xie Zhuo and me get married, that he could frame Xie Zhuo for his cannibalism.

In their battle, of course, Xie Zhuo won.

But Xie Zhuo had sealed the evil deity just half a year ago, then helped me withstand the lightning tribulation. Now facing Jing Nanshou, he could win, but it was somewhat difficult.

He was injured, with evil energy spreading on his wound.

These were all things “I” couldn’t see.

The evil energy that Jing Nanshou had desperately infused into his body made his mind somewhat hazy. He supported himself, returning to our home in the thunderous rainy night.

“I” was still waiting for him, sitting on the threshold of our house. Seeing him return covered in blood, “I” immediately rushed forward.

Xie Zhuo was also walking toward “me,” but just as “I” was about to touch him, he suddenly seemed to realize something, violently retreated, and with one hand pushed “me” away.

“I” stood dazed in the rain.

Meanwhile, Xie Zhuo’s other hand tightly covered his wound. His wound was full of evil energy, tearing at his flesh.

He didn’t let “me” touch him, turned, walked urgently into the room, then closed the door behind him and cast a barrier.

“I” also followed quickly to the door, but was blocked outside by his barrier.

Thunder rumbled low, raindrops pattered.

“I” stood at the door, not daring to knock too hard, only asking him again and again:

“Xie Zhuo, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me. Where did you go?”

“Whatever happened, tell me, I’m willing to face it with you.”

“Let me in, it’s so cold outside.”

Once inside, Xie Zhuo could no longer support himself and painfully collapsed on the floor. He regulated his inner energy, just like countless other times when he was injured, fighting with the evil energy in his body until he completely defeated it, tearing it apart and clearing it from his body.

It rained the whole night.

Xie Zhuo was inside the house, “I” was outside.

The evil energy on his body gradually disappeared, and my worries and questions outside also gradually diminished.

By the next morning, the sunrise broke through the clouds that had been gloomy all night and fell on the courtyard.

Xie Zhuo tidied himself up and came out with a pale face.

He saw “me.”

“I” had sat at the door, hugging my legs all night. The cold rain had soaked my hair ends and clothes, making them ice-cold.

“I” also saw him.

Our eyes met. In the courtyard, only occasional bird calls could be heard.

“Were you hurt?”

“My” voice was hoarse, extremely small, seeming like just air scratching out of the throat.

Xie Zhuo’s brows furrowed slightly: “It’s fine now…”

He raised his hand, as if trying to caress “me.”

“I” turned my head to avoid his hand: “Just like that? Nothing else you want to say?”

He was silent for a long time, almost speaking word by word, awkwardly.

“I want you to be happy. Don’t know how to make you happy.”

“I” looked at him, saying nothing.

And it was just “my” silence and expression that seemed to pain Xie Zhuo. His eyes blinked lightly twice, his gaze slightly lowered, looking at “my” downturned lips.

“Jiu Xia, smile.”

That was the first time, in our marriage, that I lowered my eyes and didn’t respond.

“I” didn’t look up, so “I” also didn’t see the helplessness in Xie Zhuo’s eyes as he stood before me.

His fingertips moved slightly, but in the end, he didn’t dare touch “me,” only hiding his hand behind himself.