The ghost crows cried mournfully five times. Liu Shuang had been married to Yan Chaosheng for exactly one hundred years, always sweetly calling him “my lord.” This was the first time she called him “Yan Chaosheng,” with a bitter smile.

She asked, “Yan Chaosheng, did you marry me because of Mi Chu?”

Yan Chaosheng looked at Liu Shuang, his expression not changing in the slightest. He said coldly, “Guards, the Lady has acted beyond measure. Punish her by sending her to the Blood Refining Sea to reflect.”

“Yan Chaosheng…” Liu Shuang called softly.

The strong winds in the pavilion lifted Liu Shuang’s thin garments. She stood in the cold wind, watching the husband she had loved for a hundred years punish her to the Blood Refining Sea for the sake of another woman.

Liu Shuang couldn’t tell what she felt at that moment—whether there was more heartbreak or absurdity. It was as if she had been in a long, beautiful dream. When she had immersed herself in the dream and believed it to be real, she discovered everything was false.

She repeated with near-obsession: “I want an answer. Did you marry me because my appearance resembles Heavenly Consort Mi Chu?”

Liu Shuang stared intently at Yan Chaosheng, hoping he would tell her it wasn’t so. But Yan Chaosheng, looking at her tear-filled eyes that still held one last thread of hope, said cruelly: “You’ve already seen it, haven’t you? Why ask?”

The hope in Liu Shuang’s eyes shattered. A tear fell from her left eye, landing on the ground of the Ghost Domain, carrying a faint white glow.

Yan Chaosheng stared at that tear, taking it for granted.

At that moment, he didn’t know this would become, in his memory, the last tear Liu Shuang would ever shed for him.

In fact, over these hundred years, Liu Shuang had shed many tears for him. Her nature was tender and fragile. Sometimes, for what seemed to Yan Chaosheng trivial matters—a single bloody gash on his body when he returned from battle—could make Liu Shuang cry as if the world were ending.

She cried so often that sometimes he would even maliciously watch her sobbing with interest.

Back then, he was still young and didn’t understand that every tear a woman sheds carries all her love, and is precious beyond measure.

But love, ultimately, can be exhausted.

Yan Chaosheng said, “Has no one heard this lord’s order? Take the Lady to the Blood Refining Sea.”

Eight ghost generals appeared before Liu Shuang, moving to bind her. Liu Shuang avoided their hands: “I’ll go myself!”

The double fish pendant in Liu Shuang’s sleeve fell out, breaking completely in half. Looking at the two fish now completely separated, Liu Shuang smiled uglier than crying.

Some things, it seemed, were truly destined.

Before, she didn’t believe in fate. She only believed in Yan Chaosheng. But a hundred years of deep love had earned her his disbelief, and she was being sent to the Blood Refining Sea.

Liu Shuang crouched down and, under everyone’s gaze, picked up the jade broken into two halves. This was something Shao You had left her. Even if her love was just a joke, she couldn’t let these pieces be buried in the soil of the Ghost Domain.

Liu Shuang put them away and walked toward Heavenly Consort Mi Chu.

“You say I hurt you?”

Mi Chu nodded, saying softly: “I know the Lady didn’t mean to.”

“No, now I mean it,” Liu Shuang said, pressing her lips together tightly.

She flipped the dagger in her hand and stabbed it into Mi Chu’s abdomen again.

Mi Chu’s eyes widened. If before she had been merely haggard, now her unstable soul was truly severely wounded! Mi Chu’s cultivation was far higher than Liu Shuang’s, and she could have easily dodged, but she simply hadn’t imagined that Liu Shuang would dare do this in front of Yan Chaosheng! So Mi Chu hadn’t dodged at all.

She hadn’t expected that this weed she despised would stab her without a second thought.

Under Yan Chaosheng’s gaze, Liu Shuang released her hand, smiled slightly, and said to Mi Chu: “Shao You said that one should not be punished for something they didn’t do. Now it’s appropriate—I’ve indeed hurt you, and I accept my punishment.”

Mi Chu spat out a mouthful of blood and fainted.

Liu Shuang lowered her head, not looking at Yan Chaosheng’s expression. Instead, he spoke calmly: “Take her away.”

As Liu Shuang passed by Yan Chaosheng, bound by the demon generals and walking far away, she couldn’t help looking back at him one last time, as if to engrave him in her memory.

His cloak billowed, his demeanor entirely cold and cruel. Liu Shuang couldn’t help wondering why she had only now realized he was such a cold-hearted person. Even when Liu Shuang had stabbed the person he loved right in front of him, he could still look at her with the gaze one reserves for a ridiculous clown, watching her actions cruelly.

Had his kindness in the past also been a lie?

Yan Chaosheng was still the handsome figure in Liu Shuang’s memory, but this time, she would never call him “my lord” again.

Her nose and eyes stung, but Liu Shuang didn’t blame Mi Chu for her scheme, nor did she resent Yan Chaosheng’s disbelief.

She just felt sad—endless, infinite sadness. The first passionate love of her life, from this night on, began to slowly die.

Liu Shuang had never told Yan Chaosheng that she disliked the Ghost Domain, so naturally, he didn’t know that she hated the Blood Refining Sea even more than a water prison.

Over the Blood Refining Sea, a blood-colored epiphyllum served as a cage. Liu Shuang was trapped in a tiny space atop the epiphyllum flower.

There was no one around, not even the sound of ghostly wails. Below, the Blood Sea churned, and the stench and foul air were extremely heavy. Liu Shuang had been born in a beautiful, lively place. She had thought that over the years she had grown accustomed to loneliness, but people adapt to happiness, not to loneliness and suffering.

The Blood Refining Sea knew neither seasons nor temperature, and even dulled the five senses, making her uncertain if she was still alive.

Liu Shuang felt terrible. Her heart, which had been tempered, seemed to rob her of breath with each beat. Would Yan Chaosheng ever release her? Instinctively, she used her spiritual power to attack the epiphyllum, but the power completely rebounded, causing blood to flow from the corner of her mouth.

Liu Shuang wanted to call out “my lord,” but in the end, she pressed her lips tightly together and murmured: “Chang Huan, Lord Su Lun…”

Chang Huan broke in two days later.

The ghost cultivator girl’s ghost cultivation power was nearly dissipated. She staggered forward and, separated by the blood-red epiphyllum, pounded on it: “My Lady, My Lady, are you all right? I’m sorry. Chang Huan came late.”

In their nearly a hundred years together, Liu Shuang had never seen Chang Huan cry. Liu Shuang knew that most ghost cultivators were cold-hearted, venomous, and selfish.

But Chang Huan wasn’t.

When she had found Chang Huan, Chang Huan’s soul had been nearly shattered, trampled underfoot, her gaze unfocused.

She had brought Chang Huan home, initially caring for her as a mother would, mending her soul. Then, at some point she couldn’t recall, Chang Huan had started taking care of her instead.

Their roles had reversed, with Chang Huan helping her survive in the Ghost Domain.

Liu Shuang had never seen Chang Huan sad, but today, this ghost cultivator girl’s eyes were filled with grief.

“I’m fine, Chang Huan,” Liu Shuang said, secretly wiping away the blood at the corner of her mouth, speaking lightly. “Don’t worry about me. Everything will be all right. Has Qing Luan returned? Is it okay?”

“Qing Luan? It’s been fine in its stone nest all along. Why would My Lady ask about this?”

“A few days ago, you told me Qing Luan was missing.”

“Chang Huan never told My Lady that Qing Luan was missing. My Lady, what happened?”

Liu Shuang fell silent. By now, she almost completely understood. Heavenly Consort Mi Chu had created an illusion for her, making her believe Qing Luan was in mortal danger, ultimately leading her to stab the old man’s body. Even the false Chang Huan she had initially seen—all she had seen and heard were illusions.

Liu Shuang found it somewhat laughable. Since when would the “rightful owner” use such crude methods against a “substitute”?

Mi Chu needn’t have done this. Liu Shuang had never wanted a Yan Chaosheng who loved someone else.

“Chang Huan, can you help me with something?”

“Please command me, My Lady.”

“Send a paper crane message to Demon Lord Yan Chaosheng, telling him…” Her face pale, she closed her eyes briefly. “Liu Shuang is willing to sever spiritual bonds with him, parting on good terms.”

Chang Huan’s eyes widened: “My Lady!”

“Go,” Liu Shuang said.

Liu Shuang understood that loving someone was inherently irrational, but she also knew that since Yan Chaosheng had chosen Mi Chu, there was no place for her in the vast Ghost Domain.

The double fish pendant had broken. Liu Shuang didn’t want to live more pitifully.

She didn’t want this version of Yan Chaosheng, didn’t want to see Mi Chu’s face again. Liu Shuang knew that whether it was people from the Demon Realm or the Ghost Domain, they generally looked down on her.

Demons and ghost cultivators respected strength above all. Liu Shuang came from humble origins and had weak spiritual power. They looked down on her and belittled her feelings, thinking she had married above her station by becoming the Demon Lord’s consort.

Liu Shuang closed her eyes. She was too tired. For nearly a hundred years, she had lived arduously in the Ghost Domain. Apart from Chang Huan, no one was willing to speak to her voluntarily. As Yan Chaosheng’s consort, she needed to use his decree to mobilize others.

The day Lord Su Lun approached her, even knowing he had ulterior motives, she had treasured his presence like a precious find—finally, one more person who would listen to her speak.

Although she never complained and always smiled, only Liu Shuang herself knew how increasingly anxious and pitiful she had become.

While Yan Chaosheng roamed freely across heaven and earth, she was confined to a small palace, day after day, with nothing to do but wait for his return.

Like a rabbit placed among a pack of wolves, curled up in its burrow, she sustained herself with her love for him, not daring to step out of her cave.

But now, she wanted to leave this cave that had confined her.

If Yan Chaosheng didn’t want her, she could go to the mortal realm, to Cyan Blue Lake.

“My Lady,” Chang Huan said urgently, “Do you want to do this? Once spiritual bonds are severed, your connection with the Demon Lord will be completely broken. That Heavenly Consort Mi Chu is not a good person. Why are you giving the Demon Lord to her just like this? If you yield to the Demon Lord, he won’t truly be heartless and keep you imprisoned here.”

“You’re wrong. Yan Chaosheng never belonged to me,” Liu Shuang said with a pale smile. “Counting the time, the season of wind-blown snow in the mortal realm approaches, and the Karmic Fire is almost upon us.”

It was time for her to go home, to shoulder her responsibilities, to return and protect the new life at Cyan Blue Lake just as the elders had protected her for hundreds of years.

Chang Huan couldn’t persuade her and left in dismay.

Liu Shuang had thought that, once again, she would have to wait a long time for Yan Chaosheng to come.

She realized she had become accustomed to such waiting.

But unexpectedly, this time he came quickly.

Yan Chaosheng stepped across the Blood Sea to the epiphyllum, his eyes cold, his tone as if tempered with ice: “You want to sever spiritual bonds?”

“Yes.”

“No regrets?”

Liu Shuang pressed her dry lips together and shook her head.

He looked at her for a long while, then laughed coldly: “Fine, fine, fine!”

With these three words, he waved his hand, and the blood epiphyllum beneath Liu Shuang’s feet dispersed. Losing her foothold, she plummeted toward the Blood Sea. Liu Shuang instinctively cried out, reaching to grab him.

Yan Chaosheng watched coldly, only reaching out to pull her ashore when she was about to fall into the Blood Sea.

“Now that you’re clear-headed, answer this, lord: do you still want to sever spiritual bonds?”

Liu Shuang trembled, looked up at him, and gritted out word by word: “Yes!”

Yan Chaosheng’s fist clenched tightly.

“As you wish.”