Liu Shuang raised her hand, forcibly concentrating her immortal power to extract a drop of heart blood from her brow.

As cultivation partners whose souls had merged, dissolving their spiritual bond was as painful as separating their very souls—a slow and agonizing process.

Yan Chaosheng coldly watched Liu Shuang’s movements. He knew she had always feared pain, and expected this marrow-extracting, tendon-severing agony would make her give up, abandoning the idea of breaking their bond. Yet despite her body being drenched in cold sweat and her lips turning pale, she didn’t make a single sound. She didn’t even ask for his help.

In his memory, she had always been soft and dependent on him, yet now she endured such pain just to sever all ties with him. A surge of anger that even he couldn’t control rose in Yan Chaosheng’s heart. He grabbed her wrist, about to say something.

Liu Shuang turned her head away and said hoarsely, “The Demon Lord needs no help. I can do it myself.”

The words he was about to speak died in his throat. He coldly sneered, “Fine.”

Throughout the Eight Wilderness, falling in love never required any price, but parting ways demanded a terrible cost.

Liu Shuang wanted to remember this pain, to engrave in her memory what happens when you love the wrong person.

Finally, a drop of blood was extracted from her forehead.

The blood belonged to Yan Chaosheng, brilliantly vivid amid the surging blood sea. The blood condensed in her palm, with the faint outline of a curled-up boy visible within—this was the blood spirit.

Liu Shuang controlled herself, not allowing her gaze to tremble as she raised her hand and offered the blood spirit skyward. “Demon Lord, it’s your turn.”

Yan Chaosheng met her determined gaze and raised his hand.

His movements to extract the blood spirit were no slower than Liu Shuang’s. She sat cross-legged on the ground, quietly waiting for Yan Chaosheng to extract her blood spirit from himself.

For an entire century, perhaps only in this moment were they truly equal. The pain she had just experienced, Yan Chaosheng now felt the same.

They sat together on a stone platform, beneath which the blood sea churned like vast swathes of festive red.

The same color as when they had first bonded their spirits.

Liu Shuang’s gaze fell on Yan Chaosheng’s face. Even now, his expression showed no trace of pain, not even a furrowed brow, as if extracting the spirit was merely a casual stroll.

Such restraint—Liu Shuang suddenly remembered why she had fallen for Yan Chaosheng in the first place.

Because Yan Chaosheng was her opposite, possessing qualities she had always admired. While she was content with her small corner of the world, he had led two oppressed races to rise and fight, reclaiming territory that rightfully belonged to them.

He was strong, mature, calm, and rational. Any pain that befell him seemed as inconsequential as a spring breeze.

Once, Yan Chaosheng had returned wounded, his chest nearly hollowed out to reveal bone. Even as Liu Shuang could see his bones, he had rested his chin on his hand and looked at her, saying, “Stunned speechless? Why aren’t you crying yet?”

And when she finally reacted with overwhelming concern, he had laughed and said, “That’s enough. Save such bitter tears for when this lord truly dies in battle.”

Back then, Liu Shuang had wanted to become someone like him—strong enough to save herself and others. But the nature of a celestial herb was timid, and gradually, Liu Shuang forgot her initial admiration for him, eventually becoming like a parasitic vine clinging to him for survival.

As she was leaving Yan Chaosheng, all those forgotten feelings resurfaced. Liu Shuang’s gaze moved from his face to his clothes, to the beautiful black and gold embroidery she had once sewn stitch by stitch.

Perhaps it was Liu Shuang’s imagination, but Yan Chaosheng was taking even longer than she had to extract the blood spirit. It felt deliberately prolonged, as if giving her ample time to change her mind.

But Liu Shuang would not change her mind. Her temperament had never been like Yan Chaosheng’s, yet in leaving him, she somehow resembled him more. The blood sea churned with waves, and Liu Shuang gently closed her eyes.

No matter how long it took, there would eventually be an end. Yan Chaosheng extracted the blood spirit, which floated in his palm, faintly showing a curled-up little girl within.

The two drops of blood merged in the air, instantly forming an intimate embrace.

Yan Chaosheng looked down at Liu Shuang sitting cross-legged on the ground and, almost biting out each word, sneered, “After dissolving our bond, neither the Demon Realm nor the Ghost Domain will tolerate you. Should we meet again someday, you’ll be as defenseless as meat on a chopping block—even to me.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Yan Chaosheng’s tone turned ice-cold: “Don’t regret it. Don’t come begging this lord.”

Liu Shuang nodded and stood up from the ground. “Lord Demon, please dissolve the bond.”

The embracing spirits radiated brilliant light. Yan Chaosheng held them in his palm, his gaze falling on the quiet, gentle female spirit. He tightened his fingers, and the two spirits separated and shattered, transforming into red light that slipped through his fingers, falling into the Blood Refinement Sea and disappearing.

Liu Shuang stared in a daze as they scattered, feeling a sense of loss.

Yan Chaosheng closed his eyes. “Get out. Get out of the Ghost Domain. Never appear before this lord again!”

Although Liu Shuang had always known his cold nature, being driven away so quickly still hurt her heart.

Liu Shuang walked to the exit of the Blood Refinement Sea. Yan Chaosheng still had his back to her, refusing to turn around. She had thought she would harbor some resentment toward him, but her heart couldn’t generate such emotions.

She recalled Yan Chaosheng’s many kindnesses.

That summer day of their wedding in the Demon Realm, hot as a furnace, Yan Chaosheng had allowed her to use his body as an ice block to cool down. He had been alone all his life, with only Qing Luan following him for seven hundred years, like family. Yet after her persistent coaxing, he had given Qing Luan to her as a mount. The once ferocious demon bird had been pampered by her into a plump, useless creature, earning only cold sneers from Yan Chaosheng, who never said much about it. Liu Shuang also remembered how, during the blood lineage tribulation thunder, he had stood before her, shielding her from the rolling purple lightning.

Those thunderbolts had struck Yan Chaosheng’s body, eventually transforming into warm light that flowed into her. He had shielded her from wind and rain, protecting her as she grew.

Throughout their hundred years together, apart from his frequent campaigns, Yan Chaosheng had never treated Liu Shuang badly. His only failing, perhaps, was that he didn’t love her.

Although Yan Chaosheng couldn’t see, Liu Shuang still bowed to him from afar.

“Liu Shuang bids farewell to the Demon Lord. Thank you for your care these hundred years.”

The sound of a fierce gale blew past her ears; beyond that, there was no response from the Blood Refinement Sea.

Liu Shuang couldn’t ignore the lingering sadness and reluctance in her heart, but alongside these feelings was a hint of relief that she couldn’t quite articulate.

For an entire century, her life had revolved around one person, and now that life was finally over. She could at last leave the Ghost Domain and return home to cultivate.

On her way back to the palace, Liu Shuang encountered Su Lun, who gave her a bitter smile. “How unexpected, My Lady. How did you and the Demon Lord reach this point?”

He had thought one being cruel and strong was enough, while the other was soft as glutinous rice. Yet when she decided to leave, she proved even more resolute than Yan Chaosheng.

Liu Shuang said, “I am no longer your lady, Lord Su Lun. You probably don’t even know my name—I’m Liu Shuang. My home is at Cang Lan Lake in the Extreme North Immortal Realm of the mortal world. Lord Su Lun, you’re welcome to visit anytime.”

She smiled shyly. “Though Cang Lan Lake is home to minor immortals, we don’t have much to offer you. Please don’t mind.”

Su Lun said softly, “I won’t.”

“Then I’ll be heading home.”

“Doesn’t My Lady need to pack anything?”

Liu Shuang sighed, seeing that Su Lun couldn’t break the habit of using the title he’d called her for a hundred years. “Nothing in the Ghost Domain belongs to me.”

Su Lun was stunned. Seeing her smiling face, he felt an overwhelming sadness in his heart.

Liu Shuang walked far away, waving back at him without turning around. “Lord Su Lun, go back. Don’t worry about me!”

Liu Shuang went to see Qing Luan next. The bird was nestled in a rocky hollow with Chi Yuan, enjoying each other’s company. Seeing her approach, Qing Luan flew out joyfully, its large wings nearly blowing Liu Shuang away.

Liu Shuang caught her wings and said softly, “Don’t make a fuss.”

Without her, Qing Luan would follow Yan Chaosheng and Chi Yuan to the battlefield. When they met again someday, it might have transformed into a majestic creature.

Liu Shuang personally fed it spirit fruits and carefully groomed its feathers. Unaware of the impending separation, Qing Luan was overjoyed at receiving her master’s attention.

Liu Shuang felt melancholic. Yan Chaosheng was right—what was once a terrifying demon bird had indeed been pampered into foolishness.

Chi Yuan looked down imperiously at the female bird Qing Luan and Liu Shuang. With long, sharp claws, wings burning with extreme fire, and eyes containing a piercing light, it stood lazily on the highest rock, waiting for Qing Luan to return.

Liu Shuang patted Qing Luan’s head. “Go back now.”

Finally, only Chang Huan remained.

Chang Huan pressed her lips together. “My Lady, I’ll go with you!”

“What nonsense,” Liu Shuang said. “You’re a soul body. If you return to Cang Lan Lake with me, your cultivation will never progress.”

Just as the Ghost Domain was unsuitable for Liu Shuang, Cang Lan Lake was unsuitable for Chang Huan.

“Yan Chaosheng is a good ruler,” Liu Shuang smiled. “Perhaps one day, ghost cultivators will be as well-liked as the immortal race.”

Chang Huan looked at her sadly. “Then this servant will guard your chambers, waiting for the day you return.”

Liu Shuang opened her mouth, wanting to say she might never return, but seeing Chang Huan’s resolute expression, she only said, “Take care of yourself.”

Liu Shuang took only the dowry chest from her mortal parents; she took nothing else.

Chang Huan escorted her to the Ghost Domain exit. At the thousand-layered staircase of the exit, Liu Shuang saw a floating figure in white.

It was Heavenly Consort Mi Chu.

She approached and said softly, “I never really intended to harm you.”

“Yes, you did,” Liu Shuang replied, holding her chest and glancing at her. “You knew my spiritual power was weak, so you deliberately set a trap, creating an illusion to harm me, and made sure Yan Chaosheng saw it.”

Mi Chu’s lips twitched, her gaze somewhat annoyed as she looked at Liu Shuang. Talking to such a straightforward celestial herb was infuriating—she didn’t even understand basic courtesy.

“Back then, I married Feng Fuming to save the Demon Lord. Do you know what he went through seven hundred years ago? No, you know nothing. You never shared his hardships, only enjoyed his kindness. All these years, I’ve missed him, but you, just because you have a face similar to mine, stole what was rightfully mine. Do you know how heartbroken I was in the Celestial Realm when I learned of your existence? Why did my sacrifices end up paving the way for you?”

Liu Shuang: “Oh.”

Liu Shuang and Chang Huan stood together, calmly watching Mi Chu, who eventually couldn’t continue and turned to leave.

Chang Huan glared hatefully at Mi Chu’s retreating. Liu Shuang said, “Chang Huan, don’t provoke her. She’s the Demon Lord’s beloved, and her spiritual power is immense. I don’t feel wronged—I stabbed her twice, after all. After I leave, follow Lord Su Lun or Lord Fu Hang. They’ll take good care of you.”

Liu Shuang crossed the cold Qing Cang Mountain, feeling as though ages had passed.

Liu Shuang didn’t know how many times she had waited for Yan Chaosheng in the palace on Qing Cang Mountain, but she would never wait again. Everyone told her she didn’t understand Yan Chaosheng’s past seven hundred years, didn’t know what he had experienced in his youth.

But if Liu Shuang had truly been born seven hundred years earlier, witnessing Yan Chaosheng’s youth and his past with Mi Chu, she would never have married Yan Chaosheng!

Liu Shuang didn’t know how long she had been traveling. Without Qing Luan, the journey back to Cang Lan Lake seemed particularly distant. She flew in bursts, resting in between, constantly pressing forward.

Until a green leaf kingfisher, fluttering its wings, flew to her and landed on her shoulder. She exclaimed joyfully, “Tree Grandfather!”

The kingfisher transformed into a fallen leaf in Liu Shuang’s palm, and she heard a deep, aged voice in her ear.

“Liu Shuang! Terrible news! Someone has placed a barrier around Cang Lan Lake with a divine artifact, allowing entry but no exit. I have a premonition that the corrupt fire will arrive early. Don’t come back, do you understand? If possible, ask the Demon Lord for help. Only he can save all the beings of Cang Lan Lake.”

Liu Shuang’s heart tightened as she listened. Someone had deliberately trapped all the beings of Cang Lan Lake before the corrupt fire arrived!

If no one could escape, everyone would die at Cang Lan Lake. Tree Grandfather didn’t know Liu Shuang had dissolved her bond with Yan Chaosheng, which was why he asked her to request the Demon Lord’s help to save the beings of Cang Lan Lake.

In the past, this might have been easily accomplished, but just days ago, Yan Chaosheng had told her never to come back begging him.

The transmission leaf in her palm, depleted of spiritual power, fell to the ground. There were exactly thirteen thousand living beings in Cang Lan Lake! If they all died in the corrupt fire…

Liu Shuang clenched her teeth and turned back, flying toward the Ghost Domain.