Yan Chaosheng let out a short, nearly desolate laugh.

He would have preferred if Liu Shuang had remained cold-faced toward him, venting her hatred and disgust. He knew how she had arrived in this world covered in wounds, and understood the resentment and sorrow in her heart.

She had been hurt so deeply that she’d grown defensive, bristling with thorns that had left the young Yan Chaosheng equally wounded. She trusted no one; her heart was like solid ice.

To the cunning and cold-blooded Demon Lord, this seemed ideal—if she never fell in love with anyone, she would never suffer again as she had in the past.

But he never expected that the youth he could never become would be like a seed stubbornly growing on a cliff edge, prying open Liu Shuang’s tightly closed heart after her injuries. Now she was cautious, extremely awkward, yet still gently and solemnly apologizing to him.

It seemed that despite changing in countless ways, she remained at her core the immortal herb who had appeared before him with those bright, clear eyes.

Yan Chaosheng’s heart felt as if someone had seized it tightly, suffocating him with pain.

Finally, he had to admit that he was jealous of his past self—desperately jealous! His little immortal herb no longer loved him; she had fallen for his seven-hundred-year-younger self. She was apologizing to that youth. These words were never meant for him. She had grown to care for that young man.

The overwhelming regret and suffering that Yan Chaosheng had suppressed for years suddenly engulfed him, leaving him breathless. The thing he had been avoiding was so easily exposed by her, like a monster with gaping jaws and sharp fangs waiting to devour him.

His desolate laughter echoed throughout the hall.

Though Liu Shuang had been the first to break the deadlock, Yan Chaosheng appeared to be suffering more.

People were always like this. Yan Chaosheng had been exploiting Liu Shuang’s guilt toward the youth, but when he truly realized her feelings for that person, his uncontrollable jealousy became a net that snared him instead.

Outside, someone’s voice rang out formally: “Demon Lord Your Majesty, there is an important matter requiring your attention in the main hall.”

Immediately, the weight lifted from Liu Shuang’s body, and the person above her vanished. From beginning to end, she had never managed to see Yan Chaosheng’s expression.

She sighed, but her heart felt immensely relieved. She pulled the brocade quilt beside her and buried herself softly within it. She would do her best and leave the rest to fate. Of course, she hadn’t expected Yan Chaosheng to forgive her just like that, but now that they had made a good start, she knew what to do next.

Actually, on the day she had planned the fake wedding with Shao You, she had already begun to distinguish between the future Demon Lord and the current youth. But subsequent events had been too sudden, leading to the present situation.

Su Lun was waving his folding fan when he saw Yan Chaosheng emerge with a dark expression. He raised an eyebrow.

“Is the Demon Lord displeased?”

Yan Chaosheng curved his lips and raised his eyes to look at him: “Su Lun, don’t be so presumptuous.”

Su Lun touched his nose, knowing it wasn’t his presumption but rather his natural cunning. Three days ago, when the immortal maiden had undergone her tribulation in the hall, the Demon Lord had shielded her from all the lightning tribulation, then returned to meditate for three days in the heaviest yin energy area of the Ghost Realm to recover from his injuries.

Today, as soon as his wounds had healed, the Demon Lord had sought him out, instructing Su Lun to appear outside the hall at the right moment to call him away.

Su Lun could easily guess what had happened.

His Majesty the Demon Lord would never truly harm Liu Shuang; he merely needed to put on an act. But since he couldn’t end the scene himself, he had arranged for Su Lun’s intervention.

Yet even though Su Lun hadn’t been late by even a moment, he could see that the Demon Lord was unhappy. The expression on his face as he left the hall was so unpleasant, like a man returning home to find his wife being unfaithful.

Su Lun dared not speak these thoughts aloud, only allowing himself an internal chuckle.

“However, this servant came to summon the Demon Lord for a genuine matter. Please come to the front hall to hear about it.”

Yan Chaosheng went with Su Lun, where Zhan Xueyang and Fu Hang, along with a group of demon generals, came forward to meet them.

Fu Hang said: “Demon Lord Your Majesty, outside the Ghost Realm’s gate, the Immortal General Bai Yuxiao from Kung Sang demands that we release their Young Lord.”

Yan Chaosheng walked along a long corridor, finally suppressing the jealousy in his heart. He sat in the main seat and smiled: “Oh? When did we capture anyone from the immortal clan?”

The people below lowered their heads, silently cursing his shamelessness and blatant lies.

That day at the battle between Kun Lun and the Celestial Tribe at Mount Buzhou, Feng Fuming had won a great victory. Ji Shao You had become a prisoner, while Liu Shuang had been captured by a demon bird. Many soldiers had witnessed this with their own eyes, so it was no wonder Bai Yuxiao had come to the Ghost Realm to demand her return.

Zhan Xueyang said with amusement, “That youngster said if we don’t release the person, in seven days, when the yin energy surges and the ghost gates open wide, he will personally attack the Ghost Realm to seek justice from the Demon Lord.”

Yan Chaosheng replied carelessly: “Let him. When the time comes, don’t kill them—just throw them out and be done with it.”

Fu Hang responded: “Yes.”

Fu Hang thought to himself that the Bai brothers were indeed loyal. Bai Yuxiao’s elder brother had honorably sacrificed himself for the Primal Mirror, nearly becoming a tool spirit. Now this second young master of the Bai family, disregarding the orders of the Kung Sang Realm Lord, had brought his private army to the Ghost Realm to demand a person’s release, truly demonstrating loyalty and righteousness.

Yan Chaosheng asked: “How are things at Kun Lun?”

“Still at a stalemate. The matter of the spirit veins is no small issue. If Kun Lun truly surrenders its spirit veins, then it will be completely under Feng Fuming’s control. The entire Eight Wildernesses, except for Kung Sang, would fall into Feng Fuming’s hands. Demon Lord, are we truly not going to intervene in this matter?”

“What do the conflicts among immortals have to do with us, demons and ghosts?” Yan Chaosheng said coldly, and the speaker immediately fell silent.

Many of those present were confused, but only he had spoken up. Before Yan Chaosheng’s return, the demon tribe had been badly defeated by Feng Fuming. They had expected Yan Chaosheng to lead them to restore their pride, just as he had three years ago. But apart from strengthening the stability of the Ghost Realm, he had done nothing, merely watching from the sidelines.

At this rate, how much longer could Kung Sang hold out? If all the immortal clans of the Eight Wildernesses fell into Feng Fuming’s hands, would the demon tribe still have any chance to counterattack?

Many harbored such doubts, but out of trust for Yan Chaosheng, no one said anything more.

As people dispersed, Zhan Xueyang stayed behind. Originally, he had intended to leave with the others, but now he hesitated: “A few days ago, I was passing by Wuqing Palace and heard a woman’s voice. She said her name was Dream Ji.”

Yan Chaosheng looked over, his smile not reaching his eyes: “What are you trying to say?”

Meeting his gaze, Zhan Xueyang felt somewhat guilty. He coughed once: “This servant naturally follows the Demon Lord, but she spoke with such sincerity. She said the Demon Lord has forgotten his great vendetta of the past and is immersed in the soft pleasures woven by an immortal woman, unwilling to seek revenge.”

“She also said… she also said…” Zhan Xueyang’s voice grew quieter, feeling increasingly absurd, “she said she is your mother.”

Yan Chaosheng remained silent, his fingers carelessly tapping on the throne beneath him.

Zhan Xueyang was inwardly astonished. The Demon Lord’s reaction—could it be that the mad woman had spoken the truth?

“But this servant also wishes to know, does the Demon Lord still seek the Heart of Hui Ling?”

“Do you not trust your lord?” Yan Chaosheng asked.

Zhan Xueyang frowned and shook his head.

Yan Chaosheng said, “Then you need not concern yourself with this matter. Your lord has his own decisions to make.”

Zhan Xueyang lowered his head and left dejectedly.

With thoughts weighing on his mind, after walking some distance from the sleeping palace, he overheard several demons discussing the lightning tribulation from a few days ago.

They complained indignantly: “They say an immortal’s tribulation is extremely dangerous, so why couldn’t it have killed that Chi Shui Liu Shuang?”

Another said, “If the lightning couldn’t kill her, the Demon Lord will eventually torture her to death.”

“Weren’t you preparing food for her today? Let me tell you, add some…”

When they mentioned Liu Shuang, their eyes were filled with disgust. Zhan Xueyang’s hand touched his axe, feeling somewhat heavy-hearted.

He suddenly recalled the woman from three years ago, whose immortal body had dissipated. She had held his sand figurine, quiet and adorable, without a trace of dejection, and had respectfully called him “Master.”

Trapped in Yao Mountain, Zhan Xueyang had thought he would never escape, and eight thousand years of resentment had ultimately led him to act as he had. The matter had lingered in his heart for a long time. Now that he had left Yao Mountain, he truly couldn’t help himself. Having never done such a despicable thing before, he sighed and turned his steps toward the palace where Liu Shuang was imprisoned.

The palace maids recognized him and didn’t stop him. Liu Shuang was already up. The Ghost Realm was cold now, so she wore a large cloak, with chains extending from her body to the table where she sat playing chess alone with the black pieces.

The cloak enveloped her entire person, making her small face appear translucently white. Having just recovered from injury, she didn’t look well.

Seeing Zhan Xueyang, she paused for a moment before recognizing him: “Master?”

Zhan Xueyang felt guilty upon seeing her. In all his years of practicing medicine, he had truly harmed only two people: one sat in the main hall, now a soul without support, and the other stood before him, imprisoned by that person.

The current situation of these two individuals was due in no small part to his and Su Lun’s “contributions.” Su Lun might not have any psychological burden, but Zhan Xueyang couldn’t help feeling remorse, especially now that his obsession had been broken and Yao Mountain destroyed.

Thinking about what she might still have to endure—the pain of heart refinement—and the heavy burden and mission weighing on the Demon Lord, Zhan Xueyang found them both pitiful.

One with a love as deep as the sea, never expressing it aloud, preferring to bear it alone through gritted teeth; the other who had done nothing wrong yet had to endure the pain of having her heart carved out.

“The Ghost Realm’s yin energy is heavy; the cloak is useless. I’ll have someone send some pure yang spiritual tools for the immortal maiden to wear, which might help somewhat.”

Liu Shuang smiled and nodded, surprised to meet a familiar face here: “Thank you for your trouble, Master. Please sit. Unfortunately, as a prisoner, I have nothing to offer you. Please don’t mind.”

Zhan Xueyang sat across from her.

“You don’t seem surprised that I am one of the Demon Lord’s people.”

Liu Shuang laughed softly: “That’s not it. I thought you hated him.”

After all his efforts to place the sand figurine’s gem in her hands, Yan Chaosheng made her suspicious of Yan Chaosheng. But the more Liu Shuang thought about it, the more it seemed wrong. If he were truly an enemy of Yan Chaosheng, he wouldn’t be on good terms with Su Lun.

Lord Su Lun was extremely perceptive and intelligent; how could he misjudge someone?

“Back then… on Yao Mountain, when I was refining medicine for you, I needed dragon’s blood.” The more he spoke of this, the more embarrassed Zhan Xueyang felt. He had never confessed such a shameful matter before. “At that time, you sensed it—the blood contained Ji Shao You’s essence.”

Liu Shuang nodded.

“I had two samples of blood. One was the dragon’s blood that Young Master Ji had obtained at the cost of his life, and the other…” Zhan Xueyang paused, “was brought by His Majesty the Demon Lord that morning—his blood. I apologize for deliberately causing you to misunderstand him, all to make him sever his emotions and love, giving me a chance to leave Yao Mountain.”

Liu Shuang was momentarily stunned.

Zhan Xueyang forced himself to continue: “The day the Demon Lord left, he instructed me to tell you that it was Ji Shao You who had brought it. It was my own decision to say those things.”

He sighed and smiled bitterly: “The Demon Lord… I can see that even now, he still cannot bear to hurt you. Different positions bring many hardships.”

The black chess piece fell from her hand as she could vaguely imagine the feelings with which Yan Chaosheng had drawn blood for her that day. Yet at the time, she had only thought the youth despicable. After a long while, Liu Shuang lowered her eyes and smiled gently: “It’s good, it’s good.”

It was good that she had spoken properly with him today; otherwise, that young man would have felt so wronged and hurt inside.