Yan Chaosheng pondered briefly, then gripped the green pearl and headed north.

North led to the Kun Lun Immortal Mountains, where vast peach groves bloomed brilliantly. Near the misty immortal pool, several palm-sized peach wood dolls spotted him from afar and jumped up: “Master, Master, terrible news! The Demon King is here!”

Those who could escape fled into the palace; those who couldn’t were mercilessly seized in Yan Chaosheng’s hand.

“Tell me, where has your old man gone?” he demanded.

The little wooden figure complained pitifully, “In seclusion, Master is in seclusion.”

Yan Chaosheng smiled coldly, tightening his grip: “He couldn’t foresee my arrival? Going into seclusion at such a time?”

The wooden doll burst into tears: “Mercy, Demon Lord, mercy! Master truly said he went into seclusion.”

Yan Chaosheng said, “When I burn Kun Lun to the ground, surely he will emerge.”

The peach wood doll’s spiritual energy dissipated, instantly transforming into a blank sheet of paper that fell at his feet. Yan Chaosheng’s hand ignited with ghostly cold flames resembling hellfire as he strode into the peach forest.

Seeming to sense the murderous intent beneath his cold exterior, the sentient trees in the peach grove all clamored at once: “Immortal Master, save us! Save us!”

In an instant, flames spread from beneath Yan Chaosheng’s feet, and in the next moment, they threatened to consume the entire peach forest.

An old man in green robes came running out, shrieking chaotically, jumping up and down to extinguish the flames. After finally managing to put out the cold fire, his robe caught fire, and he tumbled to a stop before Yan Chaosheng.

The old man quickly patted his backside and grumbled: “Arrogant youngster! Several hundred years have passed, yet you still have such a foul temper. Visiting my Kun Lun territory without the slightest courtesy! If you truly destroyed my peach forest, beware that this old man would settle accounts with you!”

Yan Chaosheng coldly watched the old man extinguish the fire. Seeing that the old man was about to busy himself breathing life back into the paper doll, he raised his hand and pulled the man into his grasp: “This Lord didn’t come to exchange idle words with you. The ancient Ji Mo clan excels at divination and knows heaven’s will. You know why this Lord has come. Simply cast a divination for me, and this Lord will leave immediately, without lingering.”

The old man—that is, Immortal Master Wo Jiang—realized he couldn’t avoid this encounter by pretending to be in seclusion. With a bitter expression, he sighed: “Couldn’t you find someone else? Why must you persistently trouble me? Let go, let go! Ignorant youth, holding an old man like this—what propriety is this?”

Yan Chaosheng released him.

Wo Jiang beckoned: “Come over here, I’ll speak with you.”

The two sat at a stone table, and Wo Jiang retrieved a jug of wine from beneath a peach tree, opened the lid, and poured some for Yan Chaosheng.

Yan Chaosheng remained silent and picked up the cup.

Throughout, he appeared extremely composed. Had Wo Jiang not noticed his fingers turning white from gripping too tightly, he would have been deceived by this calm demeanor.

Displeased that Yan Chaosheng had killed a peach wood doll upon arrival, Wo Jiang deliberately made jokes and spoke of trivial matters. Yan Chaosheng set down his wine cup and finally spoke again coldly: “The divination—This Lord seeks someone!”

Wo Jiang pursed his lips and said, “It’s not that this old man intentionally wastes your time, but what good will finding her do? You know better than I that even if you find her, she’s nothing but a dead person now.”

“Nonsense!”

“Plants can survive without hearts, but once the Radiance Jade shatters, both cannot be preserved. You understand this principle; otherwise, Yan Chaosheng, with your wild ruthlessness, wouldn’t have already carved out her heart? Now you rule as lord of both realms. Anyone with breath remaining in this world could be found by you, yet you cannot find her no matter what, because there’s not a trace of vitality left in her—she’s like a walking corpse.”

Seeing Yan Chaosheng’s expression grow increasingly cold, Wo Jiang shook his head and sighed: “You understand everything, yet you continue to deceive yourself. This old man didn’t want to expose the truth. Back then, when you married her, the Young Lord divined ill omens and tried repeatedly to prevent it. If she hadn’t truly loved you, how would the Young Lord have relented? Today’s outcome was predestined. Considering your kindness to Kun Lun seven hundred years ago, this old man advises you: let her walk this final path alone; stop searching for her. Your path is destined to be one of solitude without emotion. If you remain detached, you can properly rule as lord of both realms; given time, unifying the Eight Wildernesses isn’t impossible.”

Wo Jiang looked at him meaningfully: “But if you waver, what will be the outcome? Though this old man cannot divine it, I know it won’t end well. I advise you: don’t look, don’t listen, don’t seek.”

Yan Chaosheng lowered his eyelids, his tone completely even: “This Lord has never felt emotion. She merely has one final use.”

Yan Chaosheng took out the green pearl from his sleeve. Though its light was clear, it was dim.

Wo Jiang drew in a sharp breath, his entire body turning cold.

“For the power of Radiance, you’ve committed so many atrocities! Yan Chaosheng, have you considered the consequences?”

A mocking smile appeared at the corner of Yan Chaosheng’s lips: “Consequences? Nothing more than being rejected by the Eight Wildernesses, never reincarnating.”

“You’re finding her for the last bit of Radiance power within her?”

Yan Chaosheng said, “Yes, this pearl is far from enough.”

Wo Jiang grew angry: “Then why didn’t you directly take her heart back then? With her heart, what would hinder your great undertaking?”

Yan Chaosheng pressed his lips together, saying nothing. After a while, he said, “The Radiance Heart hadn’t matured yet; there wasn’t time.”

“Nonsense! Utter nonsense!” The old man couldn’t even hold his wine cup steady and jumped up on the spot. “You, the mighty Demon Lord, descendant of Xiang Liu—if you wanted to ripen a heart, you have countless methods. You felt something for her…”

Seeing Yan Chaosheng’s ice-cold expression, with black pupils like deep pools staring at him, Wo Jiang swallowed his words and sat weakly on the stone bench, unsure whether to pity Yan Chaosheng or despise him. Wo Jiang sighed and fumbled in his bosom for some divination peach wood pieces.

The peach wood had no corners and possessed excellent luster—a divine object thousands of years old.

As Wo Jiang cast his spell, he muttered: “You’re a bastard. You shouldn’t have married that girl back then. If the Young Lord were still here… if the Young Lord were still here, how heartbroken he would be. Fortunately, he departed early, and the little girl knows nothing. Innocence brings the greatest happiness. Now you come to trouble this old man—don’t you know divination consumes cultivation?”

The “bastard” Wo Jiang referred to sat opposite him, calmly watching his movements.

As the peach wood pieces assembled, an image appeared in midair—the Third Month Bridge, a scene of mortal realm bustle.

A woman in wedding attire stood on the bridge with an umbrella, her gaze bewildered, unsure where to go.

Wo Jiang couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow at the sight.

Others might not understand, but Wo Jiang knew what Liu Shuang was doing—she was waiting for Shao You, the Young Lord of their Kun Lun Divine Mirror.

Without a home or place to go, having lost her heart, she wandered. In all Eight Wildernesses, she had only one friend left: Shao You.

Even now, Liu Shuang believed Shao You was merely a junior disciple from an ancient bloodline branch of the Peach Wood clan.

She didn’t know that Kun Lun Mountain harbored immortals—the Young Lord of Ji Mo, named Shao You.

Extreme wisdom brings inevitable pain. A hundred years ago, after Liu Shuang’s marriage, Shao You returned to Kun Lun. Learning that Kun Lun’s immortal veins were gradually withering, he voluntarily transformed himself into a mirror, becoming a new spiritual vein to eternally protect Kun Lun.

He perished within Kun Lun’s immortal realm, becoming the realm’s morning breeze and dew. Since then, the declining Kun Lun Immortal Realm gradually regained its former magnificence.

Elder Wo Jiang, who had watched over Ji Mo Shao You’s growth, retreated here in seclusion, filled with grief.

Wo Jiang understood perfectly the feelings buried deep in Shao You’s heart. If Liu Shuang hadn’t already given her heart to another, even if Shao You couldn’t bear Kun Lun’s decline, he wouldn’t have resolutely sacrificed himself as a spirit vein to protect Kun Lun’s well-being for a thousand years.

The more Wo Jiang thought about it, the angrier he became, shouting: “Enough! You’ve found her now. Do you see? You don’t want her, and she doesn’t want you anymore. In her final moments, she waits for my Young Lord. Now leave quickly! This old man has done everything possible for you. From this day forward, Kun Lun Immortal Realm owes the Demon Lord nothing!”

Yan Chaosheng looked at the image of the young woman and indeed stood up to leave.

He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when Wo Jiang tried to provoke him with Ji Mo Shao You.

Wo Jiang angrily threw a cup at him but didn’t dare hit him, only striking a nearby peach tree instead, indirectly cursing: “You beast! Even in her final journey, you won’t let her be, determined to squeeze out her last value! Utterly heartless! Take whatever Radiance power you want—she’s already disillusioned with you anyway.”

After his outburst, Yan Chaosheng paused mid-step.

Wo Jiang feared Yan Chaosheng’s narrow-mindedness might bring retribution—a fight he couldn’t win—and was nervously preparing to slip away. Unexpectedly, Yan Chaosheng didn’t turn around but disappeared into the peach forest after a few steps.

Wo Jiang breathed life back into the peach wood doll in his hand and sighed softly. The rustling wind in the peach forest seemed to weep quietly.

“Young Lord, if you were alive, if you were alive… alas…”

Wind scattered the flowers. The elegant man who once broke willows at the bridge head would never return.

Liu Shuang stood on the bridge, having sent countless willow leaf paper cranes.

To this day, Shao You has still not come. Her spiritual power was nearly exhausted, and she wondered if she could wait for Shao You any longer.

She remembered that two hundred years ago, the first magic Shao You taught her was transforming willow leaves into paper cranes.

Looking at her bewildered eyes, Shao You had said: “You’re not truly mortal after all. Without magic to protect you, you’ll inevitably encounter accidents. I’ll teach you the art of finding people. Learn this, and when you face difficulties next time, you can find me.”

After pondering briefly, he casually plucked a willow branch. Each willow leaf in his hands transformed into paper cranes, dancing gracefully around Liu Shuang.

Liu Shuang’s eyes brightened as she held one in her palm.

This was the first magic she learned. While traveling with Shao You, she often used this magic to find him.

A few days ago, Liu Shuang still had bloody tears in her eyes. Now she was no longer sad—more precisely, having lost her heart, she couldn’t feel sadness.

Her eyes were vacant, unsure of what to do.

Following her memory, she stood at the bridge head, waiting for Shao You, her last friend in the Eight Wildernesses. She felt she might be dying soon; touching her chest, it was empty, with nothing inside.

Liu Shuang thought, I want to say goodbye to Shao You. If there’s anything left in the world worth cherishing, it’s probably only Shao You.

She felt somewhat useless. Shao You knew where she was born and raised, but she didn’t know where his hometown was. She thought that as an independent immortal, such a free-spirited person probably had no fixed abode.

If she could wait for Shao You, she wanted to hear about the beautiful mountains and rivers he’d traveled through all these years.

Liu Shuang didn’t know if she had any regrets as a light rain drizzled down.

Originally, without a penny to her name, she couldn’t afford an umbrella. An old umbrella vendor, seeing her pitiful state, gave her a crimson oilpaper umbrella.

Liu Shuang had nothing to give him, so she secretly placed her last half of the double fish pendant in his basket.

The once bustling willow embankment emptied as people rushed to escape the rain, leaving only Liu Shuang alone.

Without a heart, she didn’t feel the hardship, standing there almost like an unfeeling stone.

This sensation wasn’t bad, Liu Shuang thought, much better than before. She wasn’t sad anymore.

If Shao You came, at least she wouldn’t scare him with bloody tears.

The sky gradually darkened, and Liu Shuang felt disappointed, thinking she wouldn’t see Shao You today. She wondered how much longer she could hold on.

She closed her umbrella and was about to leave when she turned and saw a figure in cyan robes under a willow tree.

He stood there, having watched her for who knows how long.

Seeing her blink in astonishment, he finally extended his hand: “I’ve returned.”

Liu Shuang didn’t know if the feeling in her broken chest at that moment could be called the joy of reuniting with an old friend, but Shao You truly hadn’t lied to her.

Liu Shuang ran over and stood before him. She originally had much to say, but after losing her heart, she became dull and wooden, finally only managing to call out stiffly: “Shao You.”

Shao You’s eyes were like deep, cold pools. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile as he responded: “Mm.”

His black pupils contained too many emotions, vaguely making Liu Shuang feel strange and afraid. She instinctively stepped back, immediately seeing his gaze turn obscure. She quickly stopped moving.

How could she fear Shao You?

Perhaps due to a hundred years of tempering, much of the clear elegance had faded from him, leaving behind more gloominess? As Shao You’s close friend, she couldn’t reject him for this small change.

So Liu Shuang said: “You’ve been gone so long, you must have encountered many interesting things. Let me treat you to tea, and you can tell me stories.”

Shao You enjoyed tea, but as soon as she spoke, she remembered she had no spirit stones or anything to exchange for money.

Without a heart, she couldn’t feel embarrassment. Realizing her situation, she could only say: “I forgot I have no money. Let’s sit under the bridge instead.”

The “Shao You” before her nodded silently.

In the end, they didn’t sit by the bridge. He somehow rented a small boat, warmed wine on it, and invited her aboard.

Before Liu Shuang could speak, a white fox fur cape appeared around her—he had fastened it for her.

Liu Shuang’s body, frozen stiff, had lost sensation, but now with the cape, she began to feel warmth.

This scene rather resembled their hundred years in the mortal realm. Liu Shuang said, “It’s a pity there’s no moon.”

The mortal world was pitch black. The rain had just stopped, and strange, muffled thunder continued—how could there be a moon?

“Shao You” swept his gaze slowly over her features. After a while, his fingers twitched slightly as he said: “Come out and look.”

Liu Shuang stepped to the bow and let out a soft exclamation of surprise. Indeed, she saw a sky full of stars and the moon, and the lingering muffled thunder had disappeared.

How strange.

“Shao You, where have you been all these years? Have you been well?”

“I’ve been to many places. I’ve been fine.” He raised his eyes, black as pitch. “You… have you been well? Has Yan Chaosheng treated you kindly?”

He had originally expected to hear words even more resentful and angry than old man Wo Jiang’s from her lips.

But the pale-faced young woman nodded: “I’ve been quite well too. Yan Chaosheng was good to me. He even shielded me during my blood tribulation. It’s just that ultimately, we weren’t fated. For a hundred years, I was the one who forced it.”

“You don’t blame him?”

“No.” Liu Shuang said. After all, she chose this man herself, and later she was the one who abandoned him. She didn’t regret marrying Yan Chaosheng, nor did she regret leaving him. The heartbreak over Yan Chaosheng not saving Cang Lan had scattered along with her crushed heart. Liu Shuang barely remembered the painful feeling of Cang Lan turning to ashes, how could she possibly remember the fleeting resentment toward Yan Chaosheng?

After the soul-unbinding, they were nothing more than strangers to each other.

“Do you still love him then?”

“Shao You, this isn’t like you.” Liu Shuang’s long eyelashes were wet with raindrops as she asked curiously, “After a hundred years apart, how have you become so direct?”

The “Shao You” before her said nothing, not wishing to explain.

The bright moon shone overhead as he suddenly heard her say in a calm, gentle voice: “No, I don’t love him anymore.”

The green pearl in his sleeve nearly fell out. He gripped it tightly, almost crushing it. After a long while, unwilling to reveal his inner emotions, he closed his eyes briefly: “That’s good.”