At the peak of Kun Lun Mountain, Shao You gazed at the dark, gloomy sky with furrowed brows, “The Celestial Lord has still waged war against the Demon Palace. You once divined rivers of blood and endless warfare across the Eight Wildernesses. It should begin from this day.”

Wo Jiang stood behind him: “Everything follows its predetermined course. This is a vortex of turbulent undercurrents. What is meant to happen will happen. All we can do is observe quietly and prevent the Kun Lun Immortal Realm from being dragged into these murky waters.”

Shao You said, “Being part of the Eight Wildernesses, one can never escape unscathed. Whether Feng Fuming wins or loses, he won’t allow the other three great immortal realms to remain mere spectators.”

Wo Jiang asked, “If he commands Kun Lun to send troops, Young Lord, what shall we do?”

Shao You fell silent.

Wo Jiang felt deeply troubled. If Feng Fuming won, he would certainly press his advantage and more aggressively exterminate the demons throughout the Eight Wildernesses. If he lost, there would be retaliation, and the demons’ warlike nature, hidden in their bloodlines, would be awakened one by one. Once demons gained the upper hand, would their leaders be merciful enough to spare the other immortal clans?

In either scenario, Feng Fuming would not allow the other immortal realms to remain neutral.

Kung Sang was better off now. They had acquired new spiritual veins and weren’t constrained by Feng Fuming. Chi Shui Chong was in his prime, not as simple as he appeared on the surface. Chang Liu seemed poised to side with Feng Fuming.

Kun Lun faced the greatest difficulty.

With their spiritual veins nearly exhausted, the Young Lord had been working day and night, using spiritual transformation springs to replenish the veins. But this effort, compared to the terrifying rate at which the veins were drying up, was like a drop in the ocean.

Noticing Shao You’s pale complexion, Wo Jiang advised, “Young Lord, please rest for a while. You’ve exhausted yourself these past days.”

Shao You asked, “How are things at Yao Mountain?”

At this mention, Wo Jiang grew irritated: “That day, this old man went to Yao Mountain to deliver dragon blood, but that Zhan Xueyang was so impolite. He took what I brought and then drove me out. He didn’t even offer a cup of hot tea, and his tone was extremely sarcastic.”

Shao You smiled, “That’s just his nature. Don’t take offense.”

“Only the Young Lord is so good-tempered,” said Wo Jiang.

Shao You shook his head: “You don’t understand. Anyone confined to the same place for tens of thousands of years would not have a pleasant temperament.”

It was already remarkable that Zhan Xueyang was still willing to treat illnesses and save lives.

Wo Jiang was just making light conversation with Shao You. Since returning from Qianlong Valley, the Young Lord had been extremely low-spirited, aside from his exhaustion from tending to the spiritual veins.

That day when Wo Jiang went to see him, he was utterly exhausted and murmured, “Master, I promised her I would clarify everything when I returned…”

The Young Lord didn’t specify what needed clarification, and Wo Jiang didn’t pry. It was most likely about matters of the heart. But Shao You no longer had the opportunity to return; Kun Lun now could not spare him for even a moment.

“You may leave, Master. I wish to stay here alone for a while.”

Wo Jiang accepted the order and left. Before departing, he couldn’t help but look back at the Young Lord’s silhouette and sigh softly.

He had cast a divination revealing that Chi Shui Liu Shuang, that little girl, had already left Yao Mountain, yet she had never come to seek the Young Lord.

The Young Lord was intelligent, his divination skills no worse than Wo Jiang’s. If he were concerned about that girl, he would certainly divine her whereabouts.

Yet knowing everything, the Young Lord pretended nothing had happened, not allowing his disappointment to run any deeper.

Bearing the responsibility of an entire realm, his personal feelings seemed so insignificant.

Shao You had always done well—too well, in fact—which was precisely why Wo Jiang couldn’t help but feel heartache for this child he had watched grow up.

When would he ever be able to live as freely and willfully as other immortal lords?

When the battle report reached Kung Sang, Chi Shui Chong calmly asked, “You’re saying Feng Fuming’s celestial soldiers were defeated?”

The small immortal messenger nodded: “Yes, Realm Lord. However, the demon army barely won. They lost many warriors. That entire mountain is now covered with demon corpses. Even their leader was severely wounded and had to be carried back.”

If the immortal clan lost ten thousand soldiers, the demon clan lost at least twenty to thirty thousand troops. Nevertheless, they had paid the price and successfully defended the territory of the Demon Palace.

Seated below, Bai Yuxiao’s gaze turned cold: “If that’s the case, why not take advantage of this period to take Yan Chaosheng’s dog life?”

He truly hated Yan Chaosheng. If he had known that one day his elder brother would die at the hands of this lowly little demon, he would have killed him by any means when destroying Yan Chaosheng’s cultivation.

“Yuxiao, do not act recklessly,” said Chi Shui Chong. “I know you want to avenge Zhuixu, but the Demon Palace now harbors hidden dragons and crouching tigers. Times have changed. Your parents cannot bear the pain of losing another son.”

Bai Yuxiao met his gaze: “Is the Realm Lord truly concerned for me? Or is it because the Celestial Lord has died, and Kung Sang has acquired new spiritual veins, so you wish to see both the demon clan and the Feng clan suffer losses while you reap the benefits like a—”

Before he could finish, the Bai Clan Leader reprimanded him: “Yuxiao!”

The Bai Clan Leader quickly apologized to Chi Shui Chong: “Realm Lord, my son doesn’t know his place. He’s still immersed in the grief of Zhuixu’s soul being scattered. Please, considering the Bai clan’s loyal service to Kung Sang, forgive him.”

Chi Shui Chong replied, “It’s of no consequence. Just youthful impetuousness.”

Bai Yuxiao gave a sardonic smile and was about to speak further when the Bai Clan Leader dragged him outside.

“Father, can’t you see? The Realm Lord has no intention of avenging my brother. His heart has been corrupted by power and position. He also wants a taste of the Celestial Lord’s cup!”

With its new spiritual veins, Kung Sang would not be much inferior to the Feng clan. If the Feng clan suffered heavy losses while dealing with the demons, Chi Shui Chong truly had a chance to claim the position.

Chang Liu was noncommittal, Kun Lun could barely protect itself, and Liu Shuang had risked her life to bring back new spiritual veins. Kung Sang was now incomparable to before, giving Chi Shui Chong reason for his ambition to swell.

How could the Bai Clan Leader not know? He was many times more astute than Bai Yuxiao. But what good did it do to understand everything? He closed his eyes briefly: “We are, after all, citizens of the Kung Sang immortal clan.”

They shared both fortunes and misfortunes. Bai Zhuixu’s unhesitating sacrifice had also been for the betterment of Kung Sang.

Forcing the Realm Lord to wage war against the demon clan would bring no benefit. If Kung Sang suffered excessive casualties, there was no guarantee that Feng Fuming wouldn’t take action against them.

Bai Yuxiao turned and left.

“Yuxiao!” The Bai Clan Leader couldn’t stop him and sighed deeply. This son was full of hot blood, and his temperament was more extreme than his elder brother’s. The Bai Clan Leader didn’t rebuke him harshly. As Zhuixu’s father, how could he not want to express his anger over Zhuixu’s death, just like his younger son?

Bai Yuxiao’s footsteps halted at the fork in the road before Mi Chu’s palace.

He gazed at it from a distance, then pressed his lips together and left. Once, he had sincerely wanted to marry Mi Chu and give her the best of everything in the world.

In the past, Kung Sang had been lively. Back then, his brother was still alive, Chi Shui Liu Shuang was also around, and his life was full of joy. He was the arrogant and willful second young master of the Bai clan in Kung Sang, and Mi Chu had also been attentive to him.

Now, in just a short year, everything had changed.

A paper crane flew in and landed on his shoulder. Bai Yuxiao was startled and took it in his palm. It transformed into light, floating in the air and turning into golden characters.

Bai Yuxiao held his breath as he read.

“Elder Brother… truly still has hope of survival?”

Had Chi Shui Liu Shuang not deceived him? But how could she, alone, avenge his brother?

One golden paper crane after another flew toward Kung Sang. Watching this scene, Bai Yuxiao’s eyes grew momentarily warm.

Some flew toward Lady Zi’s palace, while others were meant for Fu Liu.

She had jumped into the Weak Water not long ago and was now trapped in the Demon Palace. Was she doing well? Was anyone bullying her?

She had been so foolish as a child, but now she was growing faster than anyone. The future of Kung Sang, somehow, now rested on her shoulders.

The demon mountain was permeated with the scent of blood.

Of the demons who had gone to face the immortal soldiers, less than one-third had returned. Blood soaked the earth of the Demon Palace. Without enough spiritual herbs, many could only lie on couches, moaning in pain.

Few of these returned demons were intact. Some were missing arms, others had lost legs, and some had even lost their eyeballs, leaving only empty sockets.

Yet they were laughing.

Laughing with wild abandon.

“You know what? When I brought my blade down, that immortal brat’s eyes bulged out. His head fell to the ground, still looking at me in disbelief. He never could have imagined that he would die at the hands of a lowly demon!”

“Same here, same here! My heart felt so free. We suffered heavy losses, but they fled in disorder.”

“For the first time facing the great immortal army, we returned alive, watching them retreat first. The Mountain Lord was right—in the future, Eight Wildernesses, demons will gradually rise.”

“So the immortal clan is far less frightening than I imagined. When beaten, they too flee for their lives. Hahaha!”

Despite their wounds, their jubilant mood remained undiminished.

Even the women and elderly who had stayed on the demon mountain couldn’t help but smile. Many had lost husbands and sons, but this day’s victory meant that their descendants would not live like cattle, without dignity, and would not easily die at the hands of the immortal clan again.

Their bitter fate would finally end.

Someone worriedly asked, “I wonder how the Mountain Lord is. He was also severely injured.”

At these words, everyone grew concerned. In this battle against the immortal clan, the Mountain Lord had led from the front. Without his presence, no one would have had the courage to raise a blade against the immortal clan.

Their Mountain Lord, Yan Chaosheng, was now in the palace. His chest had been wounded by an immortal weapon and was wrapped in white cloth. Cong Xia eagerly brought in medicine, wanting to feed it to him.

“Put it down. I’ll do it myself.”

Cong Xia pouted, trying to act coquettishly: “Let me feed you.” Heaven knew how hard she had worked to seize this opportunity.

Yan Chaosheng wasn’t receptive to such tactics: “Leave.”

Injured, his aura had become even more gloomy. He had killed many, and his body was filled with fierce killing intent. Cong Xia feared him in her heart and dared not disobey his order, so she could only set down the bowl.

Following Yan Chaosheng’s gaze, Cong Xia noticed a small couch that had appeared in the hall at some point.

The couch was empty.

The lingering sandalwood incense in the hall had not yet dissipated, intermingled with a faint feminine fragrance. Cong Xia immediately understood what had happened.

Chi Shui Liu Shuang had left.

Before departing, Cong Xia couldn’t resist adding salt to the wound: “Mountain Lord, don’t pine for her anymore. As soon as the Demon Palace faced danger, she ran faster than anyone, abandoning you without a second thought. You were so good to her, it breaks my heart to see it.”

Yan Chaosheng ignored her. The medicine had grown cold, but he hadn’t touched it.

He shouldn’t have been injured, or at least not so severely. Feng Fuming hadn’t come personally, and those on the battlefield posed no threat to him.

But the leading immortal general had sharp eyes and noticed his damaged elemental core. He repeatedly avoided attacking the heart scales, having guessed something. Together with all the other formidable immortal generals, they focused their attacks on his wounded area.

Without the heart scales, a demon’s heart area was as vulnerable as an infant’s.

What should have been the most resilient part of his body had now become his fatal weakness. He hadn’t yet recovered from losing half his elemental core, which was why he had returned injured.

To protect him during the retreat, Qing Luan had half of one wing severed. Now it softly chirped in distress outside the hall.

Connected to Yan Chaosheng through the heart meridian, it was now excessively well-behaved, not daring to cry too loudly, whimpering like a child in severe pain.

At midnight, rain fell over the Demon Palace, washing away the scattered bloodstains.

Someone hurried forward, pushed open the palace doors, put away a crimson pearl umbrella, and crouched down to comfort Qing Luan.

Her long dress spread out on the palace stone platform as green light flowed from her hands. Qing Luan’s pain lessened, and she looked at her tearfully.

Liu Shuang stroked the feathers on its head and went into the hall.

The sandalwood incense had burned out. The hall was not as refined as when she had been there, with coldness pervading every corner. A bowl of medicine had grown cold, untouched for who knows how long.

The breathing of the person on the bed was uneven, so Liu Shuang knew he was awake.

She sat by his bed, waiting to see when he would “slowly awaken.”

After a moment, Yan Chaosheng opened his eyes and said, “You didn’t leave?”

Liu Shuang smiled and shook her head: “I left, then came back.”

Green light from her fingertips covered his entire body. He lay obediently, completely different from the cold and terrifying demeanor he had shown in front of Cong Xia.

Liu Shuang healed his external wounds and handed him her dimensional pouch.

“Why don’t you ask what I did while I was away?”

Yan Chaosheng sat up without speaking. He hadn’t expected her to return. So whatever she had done didn’t matter, but she urged him to open the dimensional pouch and see.

Yan Chaosheng hesitated, then followed her suggestion. Inside the pouch were all the spiritual herbs he needed most urgently.

His breath caught as he looked up at her. Her eyes were bright, waiting for his reaction.

“You exchanged all your magical artifacts for spiritual herbs?”

Liu Shuang thought for a moment and honestly replied, “Not all. The crimson pearl umbrella is still here.” She couldn’t bear to part with it.

He remained expressionless, showing no reaction.

But the next moment, as Liu Shuang was about to speak, a hand suddenly pulled her close, and she crashed into an embrace heavy with the scent of blood.

Outside the window, rain pattered. His embrace was cold.

The arm around her waist was tight and forceful. Liu Shuang felt almost suffocated by his embrace: “Even if you want to thank me, you don’t need to do this.”

Yan Chaosheng remained silent, tightening his grip on her slender waist.

She asked softly, “If I change my mind now, can I still leave?”

He said, “No.”