So when he later went to great lengths to summon her to the mortal realm, he thought there might still be room for reconciliation between them.

But what about after seeing a true demon?

She looked up, gazing past the countless swaying heads between them, slowly turning her gaze toward him.

Shen Qiyuan despised demons. Even after two thousand years had passed, the hatred in his eyes hadn’t diminished in the slightest. So even though they were separated by such a distance, she could still perceive the sharp edge in his gaze.

“Your master is Divine Lord Puhua of Qidou Mountain.” He spoke in a deep voice. “You call it master—how does that leave the Divine Lord to conduct himself?”

Yunque flew nearby, spitting with anger: “What Divine Lord? When my eldest marital sister was desperate, with nowhere to turn, I didn’t see him come out to help. Now he claims to be her master?”

Shen Qiyuan suddenly struck out. Pure white light instantly flew forth, piercing through Yunque’s wing.

Yunque shrieked and fell.

Ruyi flew forward to catch her, examining her injuries as fury rose within her: “Shen Qiyuan, she wasn’t wrong.”

Puhua had always said that all worldly affairs were predetermined, and no matter what happened to his disciples, he would never intervene with divine power. That’s why she had no other choice back then. Though the Demon King had ulterior motives, it had indeed saved her. After two thousand years of guidance, what was wrong with calling it master?

Originally, she had been racking her brains trying to figure out how to quell this great battle, but he struck first. She had no reason to hold back anymore.

Ruyi’s eyes flashed coldly as turbid demonic energy flew from her palm, striking directly at the throats of the Daoist cultivators beside him.

He sensed her intention and reached out to protect them in advance.

However, she was the person who understood his habits best. She knew he would use his right hand to block by flipping to the left side, his entire body following the motion slightly. Therefore, her second attack followed immediately, targeting the opening that would appear on his right side.

A stream of energy pierced through the throat. The Daoist cultivator who had thrown the yellow talisman at her earlier stared with wide eyes, unable to say anything before toppling backward.

The crowd immediately erupted in chaos.

She had harmed another life.

Taking a deep breath, Shen Qiyuan was furious beyond measure. He summoned his demon-slaying sword and charged toward them with the group of cultivators.

Ruyi didn’t shrink from battle either, raising her sash and leading the minor demons behind her to meet the attack.

However, she was using a mortal body to take refuge and had expended vast amounts of demonic power when creating the dome earlier. Thus, upon engaging Shen Qiyuan, she could feel herself at a disadvantage.

During their exchange of glances mid-combat, Shen Qiyuan was both angry: “Must you oppose me at all costs?”

“Do I have any other choice?” She smiled, though there was no mirth in her eyes. “Since you didn’t come to save me then, what standing do you have to blame me now?”

Then? Shen Qiyuan gripped his sword hilt tightly. Back then, after parting ways with Zhuzui, he had gone into solitary retreat. How could he have known what was happening outside? By the time he rushed over, she had already become a demon.

She had no other choice—but did he?

Sparks flew between sword blade and silk sash as Shen Qiyuan gritted his teeth hatefully: “Your current appearance is exactly like the demons who annihilated my people.”

Her heart stinging, Ruyi lowered her eyes, but the curve of her lips grew wider: “Is that so? Then come take your revenge.”

Who hadn’t once worn immortal robes with righteous bearing? Who among the divine cultivators who practiced for a thousand years on Qidou Mountain truly willingly fell into the mud?

The two fought with increasing ruthlessness. Wild winds arose all around them, and within a five-li radius of Tonghe Bridge, they formed their barrier. Both Daoist cultivators and demons were eager to join, but no one could interfere in their battle.

Time seemed to retreat to two thousand years ago—also among ten thousand people, also with blades and swords facing each other, also him and her.

Shen Qiyuan asked with reddened eyes: “So you won’t choose me this time either, will you?”

Ruyi answered with a sweet smile: “Right.”

How could she choose? By sacrificing her life and those of all the demons?

It had happened once two thousand years ago. She couldn’t possibly make the same mistake again knowing the cost.

There were many things in this world more important than romantic love.

The minor demons nearby gradually fell into a disadvantage. Though Ruyi still fought with ease, she knew that if they battled for three days and nights like last time, she would lose.

The Demon King stood like a mountain at their rear, not making a move.

Realizing this, Ruyi felt a moment of relief. After all, it was an ancient creature that had lived for tens of thousands of years. No matter how gifted Shen Qiyuan was, he wouldn’t be its match.

But upon noticing the relief in her heart, she felt somewhat vexed.

At this critical juncture, why was she still thinking of him?

Shen Qiyuan silently exchanged moves with her, watching her eyes grow increasingly crimson, his gaze filled with desolation.

He suddenly said, “If we owed each other nothing, wouldn’t it be less painful?”

Romance wasn’t business—mutual indebtedness created more entanglements. When one no longer wanted entanglements, shouldn’t the debt owed to her be repaid?

Ruyi hadn’t yet grasped what he meant when she inwardly cursed. She had been distracted and revealed an opening. Shen Qiyuan knew her so well—if he thrust toward her lower left abdomen, she would surely be injured.

However, Shen Qiyuan didn’t seize this opening.

Not only did he fail to seize the opening, but he instead turned his body sideways, crashing straight into the blade she had formed from her sash.

White fox fur scattered as he bent down, approaching her as if to kiss her, but sweet divine blood gushed forth instead, sliding down her blade and transforming into a radiance that flowed over her entire body.

Ruyi’s eyes slowly widened.

What was… he doing?

She looked down at the warm blood on her hand, then stiffly raised her eyes to look at him so close before her.

But Shen Qiyuan didn’t look at her much. He turned his hand, letting the divine blood form an impassable boundary line, then led the surrounding Daoist cultivators in swift retreat.

“Even now.” A cold wind carried the scent of mint.

Ruyi stood frozen in place.

The blood spread across the blade, but her heart was being squeezed tighter bit by bit. She instinctively curved her lips but couldn’t smile.

Even now?

So his apparent concern, the affection he later expressed—were they all because he felt he owed her?

How absurd.

“The Buddha-light is rather too strong,” she said with feigned casualness. “Who would remember a demon’s kindness?”

Yunque struggled to perch on her shoulder, gently pecking at the hair by her ear. The Demon King behind them also extended its hand from the thick fog, slowly stroking her hair tips.

“Comforting me?” Ruyi raised her chin. “How could I possibly need comfort? It’s not like it’s some great matter of destroying cities or annihilating clans.”

She asked the Demon King again: “If a divine cultivator gains a demon’s heart blood, they become gods, then what happens when a demon gains an immortal’s heart blood?”

“The cultivation you lost, the magical power confined by your mortal body—all will be restored to their original state.” The Demon King glanced at the now-empty left bank. “When you meet again next time, he surely won’t show mercy anymore.”