Over the course of fourteen years, Su Lingxi returned to Fuyu three times as an envoy of the Human Emperor.
The first return was in the third year after she had left.
Very few people knew about it.
To avoid suspicion, even the Grand Hierarch did not meet her in person.
It wasn’t until news from the mortal world reached Fuyu and was confirmed that people realized it was true.
Su Lingxi had returned to seek medicine for the young emperor Xue Huai, who was on the throne at the time.
This caused a great uproar in Fuyu.
Many knew of Xue Huai and Xue Hui.
A few years prior, the old emperor had died, and three royal princes died mysteriously one after another.
After the turmoil, only this pair of siblings remained of the imperial bloodline.
In principle, Fuyu was not supposed to interfere in mortal affairs, but because of its duty to support the royal family, and after much deliberation, the elders followed a certain command and took in the two siblings to shield them from their enemies.
After all, the Dragon Vein and the Imperial Seal would not recognize anyone else.
If a new emperor seized the throne, it would take at least six or seven years to gain their acknowledgment.
But the mortal world was in chaos, with all factions vying for power and the land fragmented.
There was no one who could stabilize the situation for so long.
As the wars intensified, the killing grew fiercer.
Things were so chaotic that Fuyu had to step in to protect the last two heirs of the royal bloodline.
They were of legitimate descent, recognized by many loyal ministers and generals, and accepted by the Dragon Vein and the Imperial Seal.
They were the ones who could most quickly take control and end the turmoil.
No one expected that, after bringing them in, rumors would spread that “Heaven’s Punishment” had descended.
From Chang’an in the mortal world to Wusha in Fuyu, everyone knew about it.
For various reasons, the siblings stayed in Fuyu for over half a year.
Su Lingxi, as a future member of the Twelve Witches, had already been named and began taking on related responsibilities early.
With a high status and bold nature, she loved making friends.
At that time, she was responsible for taking care of the prince and princess.
Ye Zhuxu often heard stories about them—how the prince was poisoned and in poor health, how the princess was timid and always cried at trouble.
Along with these, Su Lingxi would also chatter about various curiosities from the mortal world—rebellious generals, hot-tempered ministers, alchemy-obsessed emperors, and the three major sects constantly compared with Fuyu.
Every day when she returned, it was as if there was a line written above her head: “Today, I learned so many new things.”
When she mentioned other men too often, Ye Zhuxu would turn her face back toward him and ask, “Does the prince know about us?”
She never hesitated: “Of course.”
Then she’d laugh.
Every time she talked about this, she couldn’t help but smile.
For her, bringing back a thorny and difficult beauty was somehow more satisfying than earning the title of a Twelve Witch early.
Su Lingxi had always been a standout at the academy, and after leaving Cangwu, she became the center of attention in all of Fuyu.
Ye Zhuxu became the dangerous yet charming beauty standing behind her.
Both were very content with their roles.
After learning why she had returned, Ye Zhuxu thought about it countless times.
Even those sweet memories from the past were reexamined with suspicion—like her unhidden curiosity about the mortal world, or her tone when speaking about the poisoned prince.
Did it contain a trace of pity?
A flicker of affection?
He became so pitiful that he turned into a paranoid madman haunted by memories.
The Imperial Seal symbolizes the sovereign status of the Human Emperor.
Anyone without imperial blood must earn its recognition slowly over six or seven years.
Therefore, the person who shared this half of the seal couldn’t be Xue Hui.
The answer was obvious.
In the Forbidden Temple, the hem of Su Lingxi’s sleeve fluttered as if stirred by an invisible wind.
The half of the Imperial Seal she held had been one of the conditions for supporting Xue Huai’s ascension.
As her incense magic waned, it gradually became her real trump card.
With Zhang Jinzhi beginning to move, this card would inevitably be revealed to Fuyu.
But to reveal it so soon, and to this person—her mood soured.
After hearing those words, she paused.
After a moment, Su Lingxi couldn’t help but move her lips: “Even the ministers in the Taiji Hall obsessed with impeaching me don’t have such an imagination.”
If she and Xue Huai had kindled some forbidden bond, what role would Xue Hui even play?
The worst people could say was that she betrayed Xue Huai’s trust and grace.
But to accuse her of anything else—this was a first.
Ye Zhuxu’s steps briefly paused.
Amid the flowing symbols, he focused solely on reading her expression.
After a while, he lifted his lashes.
“Is that so?”
Unclear whether he believed it or not.
Or perhaps, he was telling himself that whether it was true or not had long ceased to matter.
He asked Su Lingxi, who had always stood on the opposite side: “What do you think I should choose?”
“I’ve gone to such lengths to sincerely invite the Commander to settle things. My intentions should be clear.”
Su Lingxi offered him this way out and added, “Smart people don’t need others to give advice, nor do they do things that harm themselves.”
To give choices and throw harsh words at the same time—this was a first for her.
“What if I don’t?”
Su Lingxi didn’t say more: “Then we fight.”
As her words fell, the atmosphere in the Forbidden Temple grew incredibly tense.
The surrounding runes flickered dim and bright like someone breathing.
Ye Zhuxu’s fingers brushed past green bamboo and the grass by the embankment—like strokes of still-wet ink, easily smudged into vague outlines.
He crouched, the black satin of his robe folding gently on the ground, and with his fingertip, extinguished Su Lingxi’s still-burning incense stick.
“Alright.” Ye Zhuxu nodded, his voice calm, accepting her proposal: “Then we fight.”
The next moment, a tremendous sword aura burst from him, instantly tearing apart the gentle facade he wore—the illusion of being sickly and easygoing.
He stepped forward into the formation, now facing an all-out assault.
The suppression the Imperial Seal imposed on Fuyu’s spells was no joke.
Even going all out, one would lose half their strength.
No one wanted to experience that frustration.
As a clear, resonant cry rang out, his sword Jingmie was drawn.
Ye Zhuxu grasped it, the cold sword energy splitting through incoming runes.
Almost without thinking, he picked a path to break through.
At the end of the path stood Su Lingxi.
She stood at the top of the tower, watching everything below. In a certain moment, she concealed all emotion and gracefully descended toward the center of Ye Zhuxu’s sword light.
With her move, the sun and moon appeared together in the Forbidden Temple.
The blazing summer sun hung in the sky, scorching everything.
The air turned into heatwaves, then molten lava, surging to engulf the sword light.
Jingmie had endless transformations—Su Lingxi had experienced it the first night she met him, but this time, she felt it more clearly.
The towering ancient temple shimmered in the sword light.
Twelve sword puppets, wrapped in chains, roared through the runes.
Only Su Lingxi was allowed into the defense circle.
This was her domain, where she was the strongest.
She slipped in like a fish, confronting Ye Zhuxu face-to-face, relentlessly dismantling his attacks, clearly aiming to kill.
“I’ve always hated stubborn people.”
She struck him with a palm and added, “Now I hate them even more.”
“What then?”
Ye Zhuxu’s palm throbbed with pain.
His sword and palm strike were suppressed, yet he didn’t care.
He shifted his blade an inch and pushed forward.
As the brilliant sword light rang out, he said in a low, steady tone, its meaning unclear: “I was born stubborn.”
Always too stubborn to change.
Always unwilling to let go, even if it means being shattered.
Su Lingxi said nothing.
She crushed a sword aura, grabbed a sword puppet charging at her, and wrapped it with its own chains.
As it shattered and returned to the temple to regenerate, she praised: “Nice sword.”
Ye Zhuxu’s fingertip bled bright red.
He carelessly flicked the blood away and, hearing her words, couldn’t help but smile, recalling a very interesting moment:
“Do you know why I tamed it?”
It was the fourth year after Su Lingxi left.
Ye Zhuxu had been trapped in the matter of Su Lingxi returning to Fuyu to seek medicine for Xue Huai for an entire year.
He had no sense of security, his personality obsessive and repressed.
When Su Lingxi was around, everyone in Fuyu knew about their relationship.
Even then, he couldn’t help repeatedly confirming her love for him.
After she left, the darkness inside him fully erupted—any small rumor about her would hit him so hard it felt like his scalp was bleeding.
Retrieving Jingmie was indeed risky, but he couldn’t afford to wait year after year anymore.
At that time, Ye Zhuxu and Jingmie were not a good match.
His spiritual body had flaws, and during the time Su Lingxi was gone, he had completely purged himself of years of study and practice in dark arts, making his soul clean and pure, without a trace of filth—wanting to become someone worthy of standing beside a future Twelve Witch.
The murderous aura of Jingmie didn’t take kindly to him.
So, he decided not to return.
That’s what he told Yu Lin’an, and it was what he told himself.
Even on the brink of death, he couldn’t let go.
The one person he couldn’t bear to lose—where was she now?
Had she already let go of this relationship as a matter of course?
Jingmie was forcibly taken by Ye Zhuxu, and for that, he nearly died.
During another clash, Ye Zhuxu lightly traced his bleeding fingers across Su Lingxi’s palm—a motion full of killing intent.
And he indeed said:
“To kill you.”
Su Lingxi had heard enough of these mocking, heavily provocative words.
After exchanging a few blows, she stood still and upright, reining in the frustration in her chest, lifted her eyes and, with a flick of her long fingers, severed the bell from her waist.
She held the bell in her hand—trembling from the powerful force she’d endured—and fiddled with it a few times, returning his words with an even harsher, more excessive tone:
“You hate me this much, yet you were with me back then?”
“What’s past is past. Why do you care who I’m with now?”
Then she asked:
“Commander, what exactly are you thinking?”
By then, the Forbidden Temple had reached its maximum charge.
The setting sun melted across the sky, moonlight surged like a divine tide.
All the runes gathered around Su Lingxi formed a massive, awe-inspiring pattern—an imperial seal.
Its crimson lines were drawn with blood and could easily determine life or death.
But this Su Lingxi wasn’t the real one—she was also an energy projection, her robes and sleeves heavy with dense power dragging downward.
Ye Zhuxu’s gaze shed all disguise, his expression truly dark and filled with killing intent.
He stared at the silver bell in her hand and listened to her triple questioning.
The knuckles on the hand gripping Jingmie turned pale from tension.
He looked around at the sealed paths behind him, then back at Su Lingxi’s cold and silent threat—as if to say: the offer to leave still stands, the past can be let go, and there’s no need to entangle further.
“Then—”
Ye Zhuxu let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing:
“All swords—strike at once.”
With those words, everything inside Jingmie shattered: temples, steps, sword puppets, and chains—all broke apart. Inside the Forbidden Temple, the sky and earth vanished.
There was no sun, no moon, only a massive imperial seal emanating dangerous energy and countless long swords soaked in blood, now seemingly alive.
As this change occurred, blood began to seep from Ye Zhuxu’s exposed skin.
A thousand swords launched simultaneously—as if they had pierced through his own body before being released.
His bones, under immense pressure, now bore the brunt of an overwhelming attack, and inevitably, he was injured.
He swallowed the metallic taste in his throat.
The two attacks collided violently.
At the heart of the impact, Ye Zhuxu neither dodged nor avoided.
He reached out and grabbed Su Lingxi, with such force that the veins bulged at his knuckles.
This Su Lingxi was the strongest offensive rune in the Forbidden Temple.
Her lower body had already merged with the imperial seal, leaving only her vivid features still visible.
He placed his hand on the back of her head, forcefully pulling her closer.
It was an incredibly intimate pose—eyes locked, noses touching, breaths brushing against each other, the faint scent of blood lingering between them.
For some reason, Su Lingxi didn’t dodge.
She used the moment to take a deep look at him.
Explosions from the impact burst around them in waves.
Ye Zhuxu remained still.
He reached out a hand; his sleeve was damp with blood and darkened.
His cold fingers pressed against the corner of her eye.
Even if this wasn’t her true form, the muscle at the edge of her eye still trembled uncontrollably—slightly, but unmistakably.
Her eyes were stained red by his touch—slowly, one stroke at a time—as if they, too, were sharing in the pain he had endured for all these years.
But it wasn’t the same.
Ye Zhuxu knew the expression of someone driven to the edge by pain.
He exhaled a hot breath and said:
“Su Lingxi, you’ve underestimated the hatred between us. To me—it’s unsolvable.”
Ye Zhuxu withdrew his hand, pointing at his own chest, helpfully indicating the target for her:
“Come on. This is your last chance.”
Give him a true, fatal blow.
Make him remember the lesson once more.
Let this heart, pierced by her blade, never forget—forever.
Thinking this, Ye Zhuxu unexpectedly felt a strange anticipation—one twisted and intertwined with pain.
“Lingxi,” he leaned close, his bleeding lips brushing her ear, calling her as sweetly as he once did:
“After today, show me what you’re truly capable of. Right now, I really, really want to die with you.”
Outside the Forbidden Temple, Su Lingxi stood on the high observation platform.
She closed her eyes, and across the rising flames, across a dozen miles, she could feel the overwhelming pressure crawling across her skin.
When Yu Lin’an finally arrived, he was greeted by the apocalyptic battle inside the Forbidden Temple.
He turned and saw Su Lingxi, lips pressed coldly together, clenching her fists—clearly enraged.
He gasped and stumbled over in panic, crying out:
“What’s going on? What’s going on… Su Lingxi, don’t—he came because he was afraid you’d be hurt. He came straight out of seclusion, his spirit barely stable!”
She had once treated Ye Zhuxu like a carefully tended flower—not even saying a bad word about him, let alone laying a hand on him.
Now she was ready to fight and kill at the slightest provocation.
How could she be so ruthless?
Su Lingxi harshly pushed him aside, her tone sharp with fury:
“Get out of my way.”
Yu Lin’an’s mind went blank for a second.
Inside the Forbidden Temple, the rune form of Su Lingxi altered the course of the final strike at the last second—missing Ye Zhuxu’s heart by inches, plunging instead deep into his right shoulder.