Shortly after Yan Chaosheng descended into the cold pool, he heard Fu Hang reporting from outside that Liu Shuang had escaped.

He gritted his teeth, suppressing the turmoil in his primordial form, and rose from the cold pool. Fu Hang glanced at him, wanting to say something, but upon seeing Yan Chaosheng’s expression, ultimately kept his mouth shut.

When they reached the barrier, Lao He had already been bound by Liu Shuang.

The demon general lay pathetically on the ground, restrained by a Ten Commandment Ring binding his hands and feet, cursing loudly.

Meanwhile, Chi Shui Liu Shuang was lightly poised on her toes, about to break through the barrier into the Weak Water.

Had Yan Chaosheng hesitated for even a moment, arrived one step later, she would have succeeded.

Seeing this, Fu Hang moved to stop Liu Shuang, sending a palm strike toward her.

Fu Hang’s palm force was fierce, carrying vicious demonic energy. The young woman turned her head, her expression growing more cautious, but she didn’t retreat, meeting his attack with a palm strike of her own.

Immortal energy and demonic qi scattered simultaneously in all directions, causing distant ancient pines to collapse with a thunderous crash.

Yan Chaosheng watched coldly, neither helping Fu Hang nor stopping Liu Shuang. For the first time, he realized how quickly the power of an awakened ancient bloodline could grow—in just half a year, she had progressed tremendously.

He had underestimated her. The immortal who was once bound by the Ten Commandment Ring now moved freely.

Fu Hang had consumed all the demon cores hoarded by the previous mountain lord and now possessed at least a thousand years of cultivation power.

Yet Chi Shui Liu Shuang could now fight Fu Hang to a standstill. Yan Chaosheng remembered that on the day she faced Bi Xun, she had been utterly powerless to resist.

Fu Hang was also somewhat puzzled—the Mountain Lord had climbed out of the cold pool, only to stand at a distance, watching without intervening or expressing any position.

Being a demon at heart, Fu Hang’s techniques were vicious. As his five fingers transformed into sharp claws about to tear into the immortal maiden’s waist, a cold light struck out, forcing Fu Hang to hastily withdraw his hand.

He glanced at the Mountain Lord, somewhat hesitantly.

Because he couldn’t fully deploy his abilities, Chi Shui Liu Shuang soon gained the upper hand. The Mountain Lord continued to watch them calmly.

Just as she was about to fly beyond the encirclement, a cold, dark red whip coiled around her waist with tremendous force, violently yanking her downward. Liu Shuang fell back into the formation, and another magical artifact from Yan Chaosheng’s sleeve instantly activated, binding her tightly.

It was a vermilion golden rope, used by the previous mountain lord to restrain great enemies.

Fu Hang turned back to report: “Mountain Lord.”

Yan Chaosheng retrieved his whip as Liu Shuang looked back at him, feeling extremely frustrated. What matter was this? He would rather rush out of the cold pool, disregarding his own life, just to capture her.

Was being so devoted to his role as Mountain Lord necessary? Surely living, all of them, was better than dying together.

Yan Chaosheng’s face darkened as he commanded: “Hang her… up.”

It seemed he had truly decided to teach her a lesson.

The lesser demons obeyed the order and hung Liu Shuang up. Yan Chaosheng turned and walked toward the cold pool, his body burning with the pain of his primordial form’s backlash as if engulfed in fierce flames. He endured without drawing breath.

This method might be punishment for mortals, but for immortals, it had no effect, at most delaying her escape and breaking of the formation. The maiden suspended in midair was still contemplating how to reach the Weak Water; he couldn’t stop her.

The night breeze whispered, and all was silent.

Throughout the demon palace, thick demonic energy permeated the air. Liu Shuang knew that Yan Chaosheng’s primordial form was becoming unstable again.

She had planned to use this opportunity to undo the vermilion golden rope binding her—she had gained considerable insight and had figured out how to release it.

But before she could free herself, the golden rope loosened, and she fell into an embrace carrying a cold fragrance.

Liu Shuang looked up in surprise. In the moonlight stood a man with half-loosened hair tie and navy-blue robes, smiling as he asked: “Is the immortal maiden well?”

He steadied her, gently tucking her slightly disheveled hair behind her ear, reassuring her: “Don’t be afraid. Once business is concluded, this lord will take you away from this demon’s lair.”

Liu Shuang silently looked at him, seeing that he didn’t recognize her, and swallowed all her words.

Various conjectures flashed through her mind before she finally nodded.

The man’s eyes were narrow and bright. If eyes could speak, his would be filled with admiration and determination to possess.

“Immortal maiden, you are the most beautiful person I have seen in all the Eight Wildernesses. Even the legendary, reclusive Chi Shui Clan cannot compare to your beauty.”

Liu Shuang: “…”

She complimented him back: “You are very handsome too.”

He gave a muffled laugh and extended his hand.

Liu Shuang felt very conflicted, but finally placed her hand in his. Sure enough! This fellow led her toward the barrier, then carelessly crushed it under his foot, dissolving the previous mountain lord’s barrier into nothingness.

The nine Ten Commandment Rings that formed the formation flew up. He sneered: “Such presumption.”

With a wave of his sleeve, all the Ten Commandment Rings fell to the ground.

Liu Shuang looked at the rings, then at him, somewhat envious—such overwhelming strength was truly enviable.

Unfortunately, even the most powerful barrier-breaking couldn’t prevent the soul-binding bells from beginning to ring, their tinkling sound echoing throughout the demon mountain.

With Yan Chaosheng’s snake-like obsessive character, he would soon be coming.

The man raised an eyebrow in surprise, smiled, and raised his hand, cruelly crushing all the remnant souls.

Yet this could not stop the bells in the demon palace from continuing to ring.

The man looked at Liu Shuang, indeed seeing a beautiful woman gazing at him with apparent trepidation. He asked: “Is the immortal maiden afraid of me?”

Liu Shuang silently cursed him as a psychopath, but fearing her identity might be discovered, she could only nod slightly. The person before her was, coincidentally, another acquaintance—none other than Prince Feng Fuming, who should have been at the Four Seas Banquet!

Her honesty pleased Feng Fuming: “Don’t worry, you are so pitiful and adorable, this lord will not harm you. You are not safe here; come with me.”

Feng Fuming assumed she was a fragile minor immortal who had been abducted to the demon palace. He unabashedly took her along, swiftly heading toward the Weak Water.

Liu Shuang secretly glanced back. In the night, it was still the time when Yan Chaosheng needed to be encased in ice. He had already emerged once during the day; this time… he couldn’t possibly chase after them… could he?

With Feng Fuming’s help, their journey was extraordinarily smooth.

Feng Fuming said, “Stand back, this is Weak Water—it can devour everything.”

“Why has the Immortal Lord come here?” she asked.

He turned to look at Liu Shuang. The little immortal’s face appeared somewhat pale and pitiful in the moonlight, but her eyes were clear and bright, her lips naturally crimson.

Her voice was crisp, yet retained a feminine softness. Everything about her struck Feng Fuming as stunning. He had come on business, never expecting to chance upon a “little captive” hanging in midair, making an exception to stop and rescue her.

Feng Fuming was typically capricious, yet hearing her question, even he didn’t know why he was being so patient. He said, “It’s not convenient to tell you now. Wait here for this lord; I will explain later.”

Liu Shuang nodded.

Feng Fuming walked to the edge of the Weak Water, his smile fading as he gazed intently for a moment before raising his hand. Several jade beads fell out, transforming into immortal soldiers who knelt before him in salute.

“You shall explore the Weak Water for me.” It was the magic of Casting Beans to Create Soldiers.

Watching the immortal soldiers leap into the Weak Water, Liu Shuang’s heart sank. She became increasingly certain that Feng Fuming had somehow learned about the Fifth Spirit Vein. How could he know about this information she had discovered?

Moreover, as a member of the Heavenly Lord clan, the Feng family had abundant spirit veins and didn’t need additional ones. Feng Fuming was ruthless and inscrutable. His unhesitating crushing of souls earlier showed that he cared nothing for all things under heaven.

With benefits before him, he would act without hesitation.

The Weak Water was ten thousand zhang deep. Liu Shuang watched Feng Fuming from afar, grateful she hadn’t reached the Weak Water first, nor been recognized by him.

Otherwise, even if she retrieved the Spirit Vein, she would be killed by Feng Fuming upon his arrival.

Now, with both the Weak Water and Feng Fuming before her, how could she successfully obtain the Fifth Spirit Vein?

When the bells throughout the demon palace began to ring, Fu Hang was outside the palace, keeping night watch for Yan Chaosheng.

He raised his deathly still eyes. Someone had forcibly broken through the formation and crushed those wandering souls? Could it be that little immortal maiden’s doing?

The cold energy within the hall congealed. Fu Hang sensed the Mountain Lord was forcibly breaking the ice.

Sure enough, moments later, a man emanating cold energy, wrapped in a great cloak, walked out and flew to where Liu Shuang had been hanging.

The place was empty, not a person in sight. All the demon soldiers guarding her had been killed.

“Mountain Lord?”

“It wasn’t her. Someone took her away.” After breaking the ice again, his blood was nearly boiling with scorching heat. Yan Chaosheng endured the pain, waved his sleeve, and thread-like demonic energy appeared in the air. Expressionless, he followed the guidance toward the Weak Water.

Fu Hang silently followed, watching the Mountain Lord’s coldly silent back, unable to discern whether the Mountain Lord was going to rescue someone or unleash violent slaughter.

Of Feng Fuming’s jade bead soldiers, only one returned.

Without saying a word, it crumbled to dust. Feng Fuming frowned slightly—this soldier hadn’t even descended halfway into the Weak Water.

The Weak Water gave birth to nothing. The jade beads were lifeless, and if even they couldn’t succeed, going down himself would likely be dangerous.

His gaze deepened. After a long moment, he raised his hand, grasping a divine sword.

The divine sword emitted a pale golden light. Liu Shuang suspected it was the Xuanyuan Sword—an ancient relic passed down to the present day. Only the weapons of the three great emperors had survived through the ages.

The Yellow Emperor’s all-conquering Xuanyuan Divine Sword, the Divine Cauldron with which the Divine Farmer tested hundreds of herbs, and the Divine Seal of Emperor Fu Xi symbolizing protection.

These three divine artifacts were separately kept at Mount Buzhou, Kunlun, and Kung Sang.

As Feng Fuming summoned this sword, Liu Shuang vaguely understood that this generation’s Heavenly Lord might truly be falling, for the divine artifact to have passed into the prince’s hands.

Feng Fuming swung several sword strikes, breaking open the silver-like Weak Water before him.

The vast Weak Water gradually parted before the divine artifact, but deeper regions still surged with countless dangers.

Feng Fuming, like a swimming dragon, merged into the vast Weak Water.

Liu Shuang didn’t hesitate, jumping in after him. Though an ancient descendant like them, she hadn’t been born with the same treatment, missing one soul from birth, yet not lacking the courage to burn her bridges and risk everything for Kung Sang.

Feng Fuming was utterly selfish. If Liu Shuang truly couldn’t obtain the Fifth Spirit Vein, Kung Sang would eventually head toward destruction, just as the historical records foretold.

The divine power of Fu Xi’s Divine Seal remaining in her body transformed into a golden light, protecting her as she moved like a fish through the Weak Water.

The Weak Water was endless silver, as if the starry river had been crushed and dropped into a dream.

Yet it was the water of non-existence—a single drop would burn a mortal to death. Everything within it would gradually dissolve.

Liu Shuang continued downward until the immortal magic of Fu Xi’s Divine Seal grew increasingly weak, yet the Weak Water before her remained hopelessly deep.

She pressed her lips together, her gaze determined and calm, using her magical power to burn her essence blood, creating shield after shield to protect herself.

The sound of layer upon layer breaking was like sea foam being popped.

She focused intently on her search.

In the water, the Spirit Vein appeared as one-fifth of a green fluorescence. Held in hand, it was soil from the Breath of Creation; merged with the earth, it would transform into an endless flow of spirit vein water.

Searching for that point of verdant vitality in the vast silver expanse was like Kung Sang’s perilous year, seeking a faint glimmer of life.

Liu Shuang had no retreat. Once she ascended, she wouldn’t even be able to manifest the divine power of Fu Xi’s Seal again.

Her face grew increasingly pale, her body increasingly painful.

The Weak Water began silently and indifferently dissolving her body.

What kind of pain was it? Like bones being slowly seared, utterly silent yet penetrating to the marrow.

In the distance came the faint sound of a sword cry—the sound of the Xuanyuan Sword cleaving water.

Feng Fuming had already gone up.

She should go up too, as her spiritual power was not yet equal to Feng Fuming’s. Liu Shuang paused, enduring the pain, heading toward the return path.

She realized the Weak Water was too deep; she couldn’t reach its end. She couldn’t waste her life here.

But as she turned back, a purple light floated from her forehead—the mark the Night Demon had placed on her body! As the purple light spread, Liu Shuang saw within it that striking green fluorescence.

As if responding to a call, it swirled not far from her. The Fifth Spirit Vein truly had been lost in the Weak Water.

The Night Demon’s intentions were never good.

To take it, she would surely not make it back up in time. Her body would dissolve in the Weak Water, her bones crumbling inch by inch. But if she didn’t take it, without the divine power of Fu Xi’s Seal and this purple light, she would never obtain the Spirit Vein!

Should she perish in the Weak Water, or watch Kung Sang be destroyed in the river of time?

Liu Shuang didn’t hesitate, silently racing toward that point of fluorescence.

The original owner had never lived a day with the pride of the Chi Shui descendant, but becoming her meant shouldering the rise and fall of a clan, even if it meant dying with this burden.

She finally grasped it, as her immortal body began to dissolve.

In a daze, she seemed to recall a story Grandfather Tree had told her when she was very small. In ancient times, when even demon gods existed and the Weak Water had not yet gathered as it had now, a clam princess dissolved her shell in the Weak Water. In the end, even though her husband became a god, he could only watch helplessly as her soul scattered.

Nothing born of it…

She began to weep from the pain, desperately protecting the Spirit Vein that had transformed into Creation Soil in her palm, swimming back upward.

Liu Shuang’s fingertips grew increasingly transparent.

At the end, only a quiet, silent heart remained. The Weak Water eroded her heart, and Liu Shuang clutched her chest, gritting her teeth as she continued upward.

She had to bring the Spirit Vein out before she died, bring it to Kung Sang.

In a daze, she seemed to recall that she had once fought for her life like this before.

In her memory was a great fire spreading across the land, sweeping away even life in the water. That place was…

It was Cang Lan.

She watched her heart slowly erode under the Weak Water, her spiritual power wavering as the Weak Water dissolved it.

Her heart transformed into feather fragments, surging in all directions.

The seal broke open.

In those fragments, she remembered everything. So it was like this… it was like this all along.

Every ancient descendant was born accompanied by auspicious signs.

When the Feng clan’s Prince Fuming was born, nine dragons roared in the highest heavens. When the Young Lord of Kunlun in the north was born, the Siwater at the mountain peak transformed into a spirit spring.

And the Young Lord of Kung Sang, Chi Shui Liu Shuang, possessed a Hui Ling Heart—a heart nurtured by the most precious, intense spiritual soul. The Hui Ling Heart existed only in legends, eliminating all karmic obstacles, the purest heart in the world. Only when the troubled vessel perished could the seal break open, releasing that wisp of soul.

So that was it, that was it…

Amidst the boundless silver light, she remembered everything. There had never been any true Cang Lan Immortal Realm.

In her original timeline, Mi Chu’s medicine destroyed her vessel. After her death, the Hui Ling Heart broke its seal, carrying her true soul to wander the world for hundreds of years, finally taking root on the shores of the most beautiful lake in the mortal realm.

She was too lonely and confused. With no one to talk to, she scattered all her feather fragments.

They took root in the ground, giving birth to pure, flawless, simple beings without souls.

The fish in the mountain stream, the ancient Grandfather Tree, dancing dragonflies, beautiful lotus flowers…

Finally, she proudly used her power to create an entire pure immortal realm. Having created a satisfying, secure “home,” she finally developed her consciousness. But with little spiritual power remaining, she could only manage to sprout a tiny bud, growing into a frail little immortal grass under the care and protection of all living beings.

On the day before her transformation, that bright and beautiful day, she fell in love with a blood-covered demon ghost who fell into her immortal realm.

Mistakenly consuming his blood, she thus ruined a lifetime.

As the Weak Water forcefully broke the seal, her heart reformed into the Hui Ling Heart. All the immortal grass’s emotional tides returned—her former love and hatred, the days of waiting a hundred years on Qing Cang Mountain, the maiden who waited on the bridge until death without meeting Shao You.

And the one she had once deeply loved, ultimately preferring to die under tribulation lightning rather than see him again.

Her cruel, warlike husband, who deeply loved another, Yan Chaosheng.