Ji Xianghan played with the jade pearl in her hand, smiling gently as she asked, “Kun Lun’s spirit veins have become turbulent again?”

Below her seat, several people knelt, exchanging glances, not understanding why the Young Lord was smiling.

The depletion of spirit veins was a disaster that all four immortal realms had to face, and their Chang Liu realm had always been troubled by this problem. Hearing about Kun Lun’s spirit veins becoming turbulent, they couldn’t help feeling a sense of shared misfortune, but the Young Lord didn’t seem concerned at all.

“What does Feng Fuming say about the troubles in Kun Lun?” Her red lips curved upward. “After all, he’s the newly appointed Heavenly Lord with heavy responsibilities ahead.”

Her subordinates couldn’t understand their Young Lord’s attitude of watching the drama unfold.

“Young Lord, the immortal soldiers Feng Fuming sent out last time were defeated by the Demon Palace. He’s been quiet lately, and because of Kun Lun’s spirit vein disturbance, he went directly to Kun Lun.”

“No movement? Went to Kun Lun.” Ji Xianghan said, “How laughable. Are you trying to tell me that Feng Fuming deliberately showed kindness and went to comfort Kun Lun? With Feng Fuming’s temperament, could he endure such a great humiliation as his immortal generals being defeated? How could he easily let go of those demons in the Demon Palace? He wants Kun Lun, but he certainly has a bigger conspiracy.”

“Young Lord, what should our Chang Liu do now?”

The jade-robed young woman on the seat smiled, “Feng Fuming has a sister who is madly in love with Ji Mo Shao You. His trip to Kun Lun may very well be to arrange a marriage alliance for his sister.”

She paused, winking mischievously, “As for our Chang Liu, surviving in the cracks, it’s better to behave honestly. Naturally, we should do whatever the Heavenly Lord says. Being a good lapdog will surely earn us the Heavenly Lord’s favor.”

She pulled the curtain aside and walked out. Outside stood a middle-aged woman with a helpless expression.

“Young Lord, why do you tease these people?”

Ji Xianghan said, “They still haven’t forgotten about arranging a marriage alliance between me and Feng Fuming. These immortals, I don’t know what they’re thinking, that they’d even dare to trust Feng Fuming. A bunch of useless fools.”

“Not everyone is as clever as the Young Lord.”

“Aunt Fang, what you say… If I were truly clever, I wouldn’t let Chang Liu drift with the current.”

Aunt Fang looked at her with pity, “The Young Lord simply sees through the futility of allying with Feng Fuming. When the birds are gone, the good bow is put away; when the rabbit is dead, the hunting dog is cooked. If the Young Lord truly wished to become the Heavenly Consort, there would be ways.”

Ji Xianghan smiled and shook her head.

“You think too highly of me,” Ji Xianghan said. “If I truly had a way, I wouldn’t have been so miserably harmed by my dear stepbrother back then. Previously, I was hoping Ji Mo Shao You would find his mother and retrieve the Eye of the Spirit Spring. But now, even with Kun Lun in such a state, he still hasn’t produced the Key to the Spirit Spring. It seems that the path through his mother is impassable. As for Feng Fuming, compared to his father, he is more patient, decisive, extremely talented, and ruthless. With my old illness, I fear I cannot defeat him.”

“Did you truly witness the wife of the Ji Mo clan take away the Key to the Spirit Spring back then?”

“Absolutely true,” Ji Xianghan said. “To this day, no one in the Eight Wildernesses has guessed that this calamity may have originated from Kun Lun.”

Everyone harbors many secrets, thought Aunt Fang. Just like the Young Lord—seven thousand years ago, after returning from You Mountain, she never wore red clothes again.

The rain in the mortal realm had fallen intermittently for half a month, finally stopping today.

Winter had quietly arrived. Inside the cave, it remained warm. The half-naked young woman curled up on the bed, with a man’s dark robe beneath her.

The brocade covers half concealed her body. Her small face was pale, and her jade-white body was covered with marks.

Yan Chaosheng bent down to lift her in his arms.

He had used his immortal robe as bedding for her on the stone bed, and now it was just enough to wrap around her. He carried her outside. That persistent squirrel had wandered around and returned to the cave entrance.

It had developed some spiritual awareness and, searching here and there, instinctively understood that this place was most abundant in spiritual energy.

So despite the formation array, it was reluctant to leave.

Thus, the foolish squirrel had intermittently listened to boundless spring scenery for half a month. Although it didn’t quite understand what they were doing, it vaguely felt that the man was too bullying.

How depraved—half a month.

It had been soaked in rain for half a month outside, bumped its head countless times, and suffered endlessly. The delicate young woman inside didn’t seem to fare much better. From what it heard, the squirrel worried she might be tormented to death.

Fortunately, today the skies cleared, and it finally saw this terrifying “demon.”

He was tall with a slender figure, wearing a conjured garment. The young woman was held in his arms, thoroughly covered by his robe.

The squirrel took just one glance before being frightened to the ground by the pressure emanating from him.

He lowered his gaze: “So it was a squirrel with newly awakened spiritual awareness that’s been outside these past days.”

The squirrel trembled, deeply regretting its desire for this cave. How terrible—now it would lose its life!

However, after a while, this frightening man didn’t kill it, merely saying coldly, “Get lost.”

Whether it was just the squirrel’s small brain playing tricks or not, it felt like this great demon was in quite a good mood. Was this what people meant when they said satisfaction makes one more tolerant?

It was finally able to stand up, clasped its two little paws together in a bow, and hopped away.

The squirrel’s feeling wasn’t wrong.

Yan Chaosheng’s good mood was like a snow-covered mountain, frozen for ten thousand years, suddenly experiencing a bright sunny day with gentle warm breezes.

After he quietly brought Liu Shuang back, no one noticed, except for little Qing Luan, who returned and tilted her head to observe Liu Shuang.

It was quite puzzling.

The corner of Yan Chaosheng’s lips turned up slightly: “She’s fine, just exhausted.”

He spoke so matter-of-factly, mischievously so. It was only because there was no one around to reproach him. Expecting little Qing Luan to understand would take at least a few hundred more years, and the young woman in his arms was fast asleep.

He had disappeared for half a month. Fu Hang was extremely worried, while Su Lun remained leisurely, occasionally even helping to handle internal affairs of the Demon Palace.

However, Su Lun had not yet submitted his allegiance, and his thoughts were not with the Demon Palace. The decisions he made were not for the benefit of the Demon Palace, but for his profit.

When Yan Chaosheng returned and settled Liu Shuang, the affairs of the Demon Palace had piled up like mountains.

Fu Hang hurriedly arrived, his face ashen, ready to report the situation.

“Shh, let’s talk outside,” said Yan Chaosheng.

Fu Hang quickly lowered his head, not daring to look at the young woman protected in his arms.

Fu Hang followed Yan Chaosheng to the outer chamber and began his report. The reason was that the fox, full of evil schemes, had tricked the bull demon out of its core. Now the bull demon was dying, awaiting death.

Such matters had caused recent turmoil in the Demon Palace, with people feeling anxious. Even someone as uninvolved as Fu Hang was so angry that he wanted to kill Su Lun.

However, as Fu Hang indignantly related all this, he noticed that the Mountain Lord seated above seemed somewhat distracted. His lips were unconsciously curved upward, as if recalling something. Despite hearing about such infuriating matters, he remained in such a good mood—it was truly strange.

Fu Hang cupped his hands: “…Mountain Lord.”

“Sorry, please repeat that.”

Fu Hang recounted Su Lun’s despicable actions once more. After listening, Yan Chaosheng showed little reaction: “Bring him here.”

After Su Lun arrived, his fox eyes glanced over Yan Chaosheng, and he smiled: “Congratulations, Mountain Lord, for fulfilling your wish.”

Fu Hang couldn’t understand what they were talking about, yet Yan Chaosheng smiled.

Yan Chaosheng said, “Explain yourself.”

Su Lun knew this was when Yan Chaosheng was in his best mood, and his chances of survival were highest. So he said: “The Heavenly Army placed an immortal technique inside the bull demon that could spy on the Demon Palace. I was only thinking of the Demon Palace’s welfare when I persuaded the bull general to sacrifice himself heroically.”

“So you’re saying you were considering my interests and those of the Demon Palace,” Yan Chaosheng said.

Su Lun said, “That’s right.”

Fu Hang said, “Stop talking nonsense! Even if there was truly an immortal technique, it could simply be dispelled. Why extract the core?”

Fu Hang, a person who rarely spoke, couldn’t help but say a lot when confronting Su Lun, showing how many silent losses he had suffered at Su Lun’s hands.

Yan Chaosheng tapped his finger on the table, observing Su Lun without speaking.

Su Lun said, “This servant’s loyalty is evident; heaven can attest to it. That immortal technique could only be broken by the Mountain Lord, no one else. With the Mountain Lord absent, I feared the immortals would learn of our situation through the bull demon and attack during the chaos. That’s why I eliminated the danger.”

Fu Hang frowned, having to admit there was some logic to this, but he couldn’t quite identify what felt wrong.

Yan Chaosheng spoke softly: “Then simply confining him would have sufficed, no need to extract the core.”

Su Lun acted as if suddenly enlightened: “This servant forgot such a possibility was available.”

Yan Chaosheng rested his chin on his hand and said quietly: “You requested to surrender and serve as a strategist, yet you couldn’t think of this? Drag him away and kill him.”

Fu Hang perked up, smiling coldly.

Su Lun sighed woefully: “Please don’t, Mountain Lord. The core is right here; I haven’t swallowed it yet. I’ll return it to him. In a few days, he’ll be as vigorous as a dragon.”

As he spoke, Su Lun produced the bull demon’s core.

Yan Chaosheng examined the bull demon’s core and said coldly, “Your goal wasn’t the core but to cause panic among our people. Why?”

The smile in Su Lun’s eyes faded.

Yan Chaosheng didn’t need his answer: “Take him away. Palace construction needs laborers; I think Su Lun will do nicely.”

Fu Hang accepted the order and left.

As Su Lun was led away, he smiled helplessly: “Zhan Xue Ying said his judgment was clouded by lust, but that’s not quite accurate. His mood is indeed good, merely sentencing me to build palaces.”

Fu Hang still couldn’t understand what he was saying and could only supervise with a cold face.

Liu Shuang slept for an entire day. When she opened her eyes and saw the hanging tassels in the hall, she thought she was hallucinating.

“Awake?”

She turned her head to see Yan Chaosheng entering. She was developing a shadow fear of his face now and instinctively backed away, pressing against the headboard.

She felt somewhat indignant and resentful as she glared at him, gritting her teeth: “Fifteen days!”

He stopped in his tracks, lowering his head in a posture of apology. Yet Liu Shuang’s sharp eyes caught the slight curve of his lips.

She grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at him. He stood still without dodging, allowing her pillow to hit his head.

“Don’t be angry,” Yan Chaosheng said, then produced a pearl from somewhere and placed it around her neck. He originally wanted to kiss her cheek, but she glared at him.

His eyes were filled with smiles, with the unrestrained joy and intimacy of youth that he couldn’t hide from the corners of his eyes and brows.

Their eyes inadvertently met, and scenes from the cave flashed through their minds. Rarely, he also showed signs of bashfulness, giving a small cough.

“Still in pain?” he asked.

Under his gaze, Liu Shuang also felt her cheeks burning. Embarrassment was contagious—if she had known earlier that demons were like this… Alas. Now it was too late for regrets. She looked down at the pearl on her neck, changing the subject: “What is this?”

He said: “A golden pearl, a defensive magical item. Made by the best artificer in the Demon Palace.”

Liu Shuang had seen many fine magical items, but the golden pearl on her neck was warm to the touch, filled with overwhelming spiritual power, truly astonishing.

Yan Chaosheng said, “Made from my heart scale, it can block even one strike from an ancient evil god.”

Liu Shuang was stunned: “Your heart scale?” Had Yan Chaosheng gone mad?

He said: “Yes.”

He took her small hand and placed it over his heart: “The strongest scale of a demon.”

Liu Shuang certainly knew what a heart scale was. She had heard of many ancient matters. In ancient times, a Demon King had given his heart scale to the Phoenix Princess and their daughter. In the end, that heart scale fell into the hands of a mortal woman, causing countless disturbances.

For demons, their core was half their life, and their heart scale was the other half.

Now his heart scale, which he had managed to refine into a golden pearl, had been given to her.

She looked into Yan Chaosheng’s eyes. If at this moment she still believed he only wanted the Emblem Heart, even the Way of Heaven would find it hard to accept.

He… truly liked her.

Liu Shuang remained silent for a long time, then shook her head, trying to remove it: “I don’t want this. You should keep it yourself.”

If it were all manipulation, she wouldn’t hesitate to act. She didn’t like Yan Chaosheng making such sacrifices. She had feelings, too, and with the Emblem Heart’s purity, she was more easily moved than anyone.

Yan Chaosheng picked her up: “You keep it, so I can feel at ease.”

With the great war between immortals and demons possibly lasting hundreds of years, if she remained in the safest place, his heart would always be secure. The heart scale wasn’t his life—she was.

He had never dared to imagine that one day she would completely belong to him.

Caught off guard by him lifting her, she forgot about the heart scale and braced against his shoulder: “Yan Chaosheng, what are you doing?”

With a smile in his eyes, he said: “Taking you to see the wedding garment style. I’ll carry you there.”

He was much more eager than she was.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, softly mumbling: “Spring is still far away.”

Yet the silkworm maidens had already completed the wedding garment—magnificently purple, and having taken so long to make, it was exquisitely crafted, exuding immortal aura.

The wedding garment was truly beautiful, even more beautiful than what she had worn in her previous life.

She lowered her gaze, holding the wedding garment, and suddenly asked Yan Chaosheng: “What if I want to wear white?”

Yan Chaosheng instructed the silkworm maiden: “Make it again.”

Liu Shuang said, “Wait, aren’t demon wedding garments always purple?”

He touched her cheek, delighted no matter how he looked at her: “It’s all the same. As long as you accept it, accept the spirit union ceremony in your heart, accept me.”

Liu Shuang paused, then said: “Mm.”

If she had asked him in her previous life, would the answer have been the same? He had not saved the purple wedding garment for Mi Chu; rather, the little immortal grass at that time only recognized a red wedding garment in her heart.

She touched more and more things she had overlooked, and glimpsed the love buried beneath Yan Chaosheng’s coldness. Things might not be as she had seen them. However, from the destruction of Cang Lan to the death of Bai Zhuixu, these were all done by Yan Chaosheng. She was destined to never view him with peace and tolerance.

Liu Shuang hugged the wedding garment: “No need to remake it. I love it very much. The wedding garment is a small matter—what about my father? What will you do about him?”

He said: “Then when the time comes, I’ll just ask the Realm Lord for mercy. I won’t ask him to hold back, just to leave me with a breath. Alright? I have thick skin and don’t fear pain.”

At that moment, Liu Shuang believed that Yan Chaosheng truly no longer hated Kung Sang.

He thought he had obtained the most precious treasure, so all pain, in his view, was insignificant.

Who wouldn’t fear pain?

The young demon lord was so adorable, and so foolish.