For a moment, Liu Shuang even thought that the person protecting her hadn’t harbored any resentment, but had loved her all along.

Before Yan Chaosheng’s arrival, tribulation clouds had gathered. Liu Shuang, completely unprepared, had to face what she feared most in the depths of her heart. Those ghost maids, seeing the situation turning dire, had all fled, not one attempting to undo the Spirit-Binding Contract on her.

When Liu Shuang had gritted her teeth and tried to break the Spirit-Binding Contract, she truly believed she would die there, thinking Yan Chaosheng wouldn’t come.

Now that drop of soul essence lingered on the back of her hand only briefly before dissipating into black mist.

She realized what it was and was nearly dumbfounded.

Through two lifetimes, from first meeting Yan Chaosheng—when he lay bloodied beside the immortal grass—until now, having gone through life and death, she had seen many sides of him: violent, cruel, powerless, weak…

But she had never imagined Yan Chaosheng would shed tears. For ghost cultivators, each drop of soul essence represented their soul power.

Why… why would he cry? Liu Shuang’s mind turned slowly; she almost instinctively tried to grasp that fleeting tear.

This was too absurd. She urgently needed something to prove that everything happening now was real.

If there had been a mirror at that moment, Liu Shuang felt her expression must have looked utterly foolish, as foolish as when she was the little immortal grass.

Not much time had passed, yet the tribulation thunder had already grown as thick as an adult woman’s arm, crashing down like a violent storm. The black mist from Yan Chaosheng’s body protected her thoroughly.

A warmth enveloped her, like basking in spring sunshine.

Liu Shuang recognized it all too well—this was tribulation thunder power that had been converted for her. For two hundred years, he had protected her like this.

She couldn’t help but think of that person.

She pressed her lips together, looking at Yan Chaosheng before her. Silver scales had appeared at the corners of his eyes, not unattractive but rather lending him a demonic handsomeness.

His fingers still cradled her face. Upon touching her warmth, he seemed to finally calm down from that frenzied state.

His expression twisted momentarily, highly unnatural, and he was about to release her.

Liu Shuang naturally wouldn’t let him leave. Doubts multiplied in her mind—who was he, exactly? She had experienced such bizarre things; what if…?

As anxiety and complexity surged within her, Liu Shuang held Yan Chaosheng’s hand!

Though the heavenly thunder had grown several times stronger due to Yan Chaosheng’s interference, for the current Yan Chaosheng, it would only cause some injury, not prove fatal.

Seeing the tribulation thunder beginning to subside, Liu Shuang, afraid of losing this moment’s feeling, quickly asked: “Who are you?”

Maintaining his position, not releasing her, he lowered his gaze. With his entire body still illuminated by the tribulation thunder’s light, he appeared terrifying and gloomy.

His fingers slowly caressed her cheek as he gritted his teeth and smiled: “What do you think, Immortal Liu Shuang?”

The youth’s hatred instantly returned, manifesting on him vividly.

His icy fingers touched her nearly raising goosebumps all over her body. She almost cried out but restrained herself, pushing his fingers away.

He gave a cold laugh, seemingly accustomed to her “kicking away the bridge after crossing the river.”

Yan Chaosheng no longer gave Liu Shuang that earlier feeling. He stiffly blocked the last few bolts of tribulation thunder, using his gaze like a knife to cut her once, unable to suppress the heaviness in his eyes, then swept his sleeve and left.

The Spirit-Binding Contract remained unremoved from Liu Shuang. She sat on the bed for a long while, looking at the dense ghost essence scattered in the air, feeling guilt arise within her.

Liu Shuang finally realized the great difference between her previous life and the present one. Yan Chaosheng was no longer a demon cultivating the ghost path; he had lost even his demon body, leaving only a soul like a malevolent ghost.

He could no longer bleed. Whatever injuries he suffered would only transform into ghost essence, diminishing his cultivation and dispersing into the world. That drop of soul essence earlier probably wasn’t a tear but his dissipating cultivation.

Her fingers entwined with the lingering ghost essence, her heart aching slightly. Liu Shuang understood that because of her, Yan Chaosheng probably could never reincarnate again.

Yet she had momentarily mistaken Yan Chaosheng for the scoundrel Demon Lord from her previous life. Liu Shuang felt somewhat dejected.

She had never been this cruel to anyone before; Yan Chaosheng was the first. Remembering the harm he had done to her in her previous life, she had placed all the blame on the current youth.

She stared at the pearl curtain outside, eventually lying down facing the door, but Yan Chaosheng never returned.

In her heart, she thought that since they had both made mistakes, and the current world was in such chaos, with Feng Fuming nearly becoming a demon, she should clear things up with Yan Chaosheng.

This time, they must speak properly.

Liu Shuang waited until darkness fell completely. With her spiritual power locked, she was like a mortal, needing rest.

Yet Liu Shuang couldn’t sleep. She lay with her eyes open. When the ghost crows in the Ghost Domain cawed three times, a shadow suddenly appeared behind the pearl curtain.

Her heart leaped with joy, and she immediately sat up, only to find it was a little ghost maid bringing her clothes.

The little ghost maid placed clean garments beside her bed. Liu Shuang asked: “How is the Demon Lord?”

Cultivation tribulations differed from bloodline tribulations. Even for Yan Chaosheng, blocking tribulation thunder so recklessly should have left him seriously injured.

But the ghost maid remained silent, immediately bowing and withdrawing, her face filled with fear.

What Liu Shuang didn’t know was that all the ghost maids who had attended her during the day had been dealt with, not one remaining.

They had not taken Liu Shuang’s life seriously and suffered such consequences. The little ghost maid who entered now, fearing she would meet the same fate, chose to say nothing, only performing her duties, treating herself as deaf and mute.

Yan Chaosheng left Liu Shuang waiting for three days. She thought he wouldn’t come, but unexpectedly, one clear morning, he roughly yanked her up while she was still sleeping, startling her awake.

His tone was mocking and sarcastic: “You can sleep so peacefully here? Immortal Liu Shuang truly believes I won’t harm you?”

Liu Shuang, suspended in mid-air by him, was no longer drowsy.

In her heart, she already believed Yan Chaosheng wouldn’t harm her. During her days in the Ghost Domain, aside from frightening her, handling her roughly, and treating her like a doll to drag around, he had done nothing. He hadn’t even truly thrown her into the Twelve Halls.

Days ago, he had even shielded her from tribulation thunder, and not only that—he had transmitted spiritual power to her, despite his supposed hatred.

So Liu Shuang raised her eyes to look at him, her gaze carrying a faint smile she hadn’t noticed.

Her smile provoked him. Yan Chaosheng gripped her throat, leaned in, and tore open her clothes.

The woman’s skin was largely exposed to the air. Liu Shuang trembled, feeling cold. Without spiritual power, the Ghost Domain’s climate was like winter for mortals, difficult to endure. Yan Chaosheng’s sudden action caught her unprepared, startling her momentarily.

“Mmm…”

Her shoulder was bitten, not deeply, but enough to draw blood.

As if refuting her belief that he wouldn’t harm her, he was forcefully proving something—proving his hatred was clear, proving he wouldn’t forgive her deception!

She frowned in pain but unexpectedly, without a word, embraced his head.

Her sleeve was torn, a small scrap of fabric hanging from her arm, swaying in the morning breeze. She recalled that drop of black soul essence, and her heart finally softened.

“Don’t do this. I’m sorry,” she said gently. “Yan Chaosheng, I’m sorry.”

He suddenly froze, his head buried firmly in the crook of her neck.

Her voice was soft as she allowed him to restrain her, speaking the words that had been trapped in her heart for three years: “It was my fault. I deceived you, but I never intended to kill you. Three years ago, I only wanted to trap you in the Endless Sea. The formation wouldn’t have taken your life. I didn’t know you had already been severely injured before coming to Kung Sang.”

He remained motionless, lying on top of her, not even breathing, his entire body cold, yet trembling slightly.

Even though he had returned, he was just a ghost soul with a present but no future.

She held his black head, awkwardly patting it, feeling quite uncomfortable inside. Between them, neither had tried to take this step. Liu Shuang knew she had been waiting for an apology—waiting for Yan Chaosheng from seven hundred years later to apologize. But in this life, she also owed the youth an apology.

She had originally planned never to say it, to continue like this, becoming strangers. Whatever he wanted to do—kill her, torture her—was up to him.

But she remembered those days in the Demon Palace, huddling together for warmth, the youth’s bright gaze, how he had embraced her spiritedly, saying he was truly happy.

She remembered how he had come with full hope, disregarding life and death, only to die miserably at her feet, clutching that wedding dress in his arms until his death. His body had disintegrated, but the wedding dress remained intact.

She also remembered that despite his hatred, he still couldn’t bear to torture her. The wounds inflicted by the Xuanyuan Sword had healed by the second day—what was there not to understand? Under the tribulation thunder, it was also he who had protected her. His mouth spoke of wanting her dead, yet he had never harmed her.

Even now, when he bit her to prove his hatred, it was just a shallow bite, like a newborn puppy pretending to be fierce.

In that moment, her heart suddenly softened.

Everyone had made mistakes. She could no longer wait for that arrogant Demon Lord from seven hundred years later to apologize, but she could do what was within her power, never to regret again. Why should she learn to be as bad as Yan Chaosheng?

The wind rattled the pearl curtain. She pressed her lips together, repeating softly: “It was my fault. It was my fault.”

I broke your heart completely.

She sighed in relief, feeling unexpectedly light. Once she regarded them as two separate people, it wasn’t so difficult to speak out.

The person who had just been venting his anger on her had become extremely rigid. Yan Chaosheng had never felt as clearly as now how filthy and unworthy he was.