No wonder Su Lingxi always called him “my beauty.”
Later, to make it easier to climb trees, Xue Hui took off her elaborate hair ornaments and changed her dress for a loose, dashing night outfit.
Later still, when Xue Huai fell seriously ill and Fuyu refused to give the antidote, Su Lingxi didn’t say anything out loud, but quietly pulled her beloved to enter the Fuyu water mirror in search.
Then came the rumors of “Heaven’s Punishment” (Tianzhu).
The world was in panic.
Xue Huai’s body could no longer endure it.
Xue Hui cried and begged Su Lingxi to open a door for them, so they could meet the divine doctor the old imperial faction had found—just long enough to cure Xue Huai and return.
Fearing her hesitation, Xue Huai said the divine doctor could also cure Su Lingxi’s mother’s illness.
Su Lingxi went to seek the Twelve Witches.
They gave her a token allowing access.
The emperor’s old faction waited at the boundary between the human realm and Fuyu.
They brought out the National Seal, knocked the siblings unconscious, and took them back to Chang’an.
The siblings broke their promise to Su Lingxi.
They didn’t know if she would be punished for it.
And just like that, they left Fuyu—and finally escaped it.
Later, Su Lingxi followed the Twelve Witches to the human realm to handle some assigned tasks.
But a major incident occurred—many of the twelve died or were gravely wounded, and none could return.
Su Lingxi remained in the mortal world.
When she appeared before Xue Huai and Xue Hui again, they didn’t reminisce—only negotiated.
She said she wanted half of the National Seal, the best divine doctor in Chang’an, and the most expensive medicinal ingredients from the royal treasury.
In exchange, she would remain in court, help Xue Huai secure control of the Dragon Vein and the National Seal, and eliminate all obstacles for him.
The term was fifteen years.
She solidified the kingdom for Xue Huai, quelled rebellions, and even returned to Fuyu to obtain dragon breath to stabilize his foundation.
Later, Xue Huai blinked—and ten years had passed since his ascension, ruling over all lands. Su Lingxi began to forget some things.
She never mentioned wanting to return to Fuyu, never brought up what she’d do after the fifteen years, and gradually took the role of Chief Minister as her true duty.
Aside from governing, her greatest worry was the crystal coffins resting in the three great sects.
The people inside had not awakened for years, barely alive.
Su Lingxi went to great lengths to keep them breathing.
Only a few people knew this.
It was this very year, when Su Lingxi was on the verge of forgetting, that Xue Huai’s old lie was exposed.
The divine doctor could not cure Su Lingxi’s mother.
Before they even left Fuyu, Xue Huai had already asked through talismans.
But he still told Su Lingxi otherwise.
It was Xue Huai who ordered the National Seal to be sent, and it was by his command that the siblings were knocked out and taken.
He had plotted against Su Lingxi.
Perhaps the tragedy that befell the Twelve Witches was also tied to their escape.
Thus began an unprecedented, irreconcilable conflict between sovereign and subject.
Su Lingxi deposed the emperor and placed Xue Hui on the throne.
Later… up to now, Xue Hui once again heard Ye Zhuxu’s name—from an incident where Xue Huai, strangely, sent a youth to Su Lingxi.
It was also tonight—when Su Lingxi used the National Seal against her beloved.
Old lovers reunited—it had become such a heartbreaking affair.
Xue Hui fell silent for a long time, until the light of the Nine-Dragon Glazed Gold Lantern flickered in her eyes, and she finally spoke again:
“Teacher intends to send Zhang Jin Zhi into the Demon Suppression Division, to interact with people from Fuyu?”
Su Lingxi didn’t answer.
No answer meant yes.
“You’re going to re-investigate what happened fourteen years ago?” Xue Hui rose, frowning. The golden dragon embroidered on her sleeve seemed to come alive, fierce and awe-inspiring. “The matter of ‘Heaven’s Punishment’?”
“Your Majesty, some things must be done.”
The emperor stood.
Su Lingxi also stood smoothly, stepping aside and speaking with a clear voice:
“Fourteen years ago, the prophecy of ‘Heaven’s Punishment’ spread across the land. It foretold a great calamity starting in the human realm fifteen years later—caused by ‘Heaven’s Punishment,’ leaving corpses across the world.”
“And this year, the Heavenly Pillar collapsed, demons appeared, unrest spreads across the land, and even the royal city is unsteady.”
These events keep happening, with no end.
The demon-slaying teams can only react passively, bound to reach their limits.
From any perspective, finding the root cause is crucial.
Fuyu likely thinks the same.
Xue Hui asked: “Everything began with ‘Heaven’s Punishment’?”
“That’s what Heaven says.”
“But back then, even the Twelve Witches failed…” Xue Hui trailed off.
Right.
Su Lingxi had also promised them fifteen years.
What the Twelve Witches failed to accomplish—if they now achieved it through the powers of Fuyu and the imperial court—perhaps it could redeem them.
Even if they could never return to Fuyu, maybe they could one day leave those crystal coffins, whole and alive, and live a long life again.
Maybe this had always been what Su Lingxi was waiting for.
Xue Hui finally gave in.
She looked at Su Lingxi and said:
“The palace and Fuyu can support each other at critical moments. But otherwise, I hope we keep to our own boundaries, like well water not disturbing river water.”
Fuyu taking in the royal siblings under the guise of “care,” when it was actually imprisonment—this remained a thorn in the hearts of both human emperors.
Su Lingxi nodded. “As Your Majesty commands.”
After a pause, she added, “The Ministry of Personnel may be involved with demons. It may also connect to the former prince consort’s case. I wish to request a verbal warrant to investigate in advance.”
“Approved.”
The ruins of the collapsed forbidden temple gradually faded into shadow as night fell, dissolving into nothing.
The summer breeze blew, leaving no trace of the fierce battle that had taken place here.
Only Ye Zhuxu’s blood and injuries remained real.
Yu Lin’an, flustered, fumbled for medicine.
He often did this for his friends at the academy, but it had been a long time since he had done it for Ye Zhuxu.
Even in Fuyu, few could hurt him—barely five people—and they were all so old they were half in the grave, probably ready to lie in a coffin after one fight.
“So heavy-handed with the suppression?” he muttered while—
“Why are you and that ancestor fighting again? Weren’t you getting along just fine a few days ago?”
The next words stuck in Yu Lin’an’s throat as he swallowed them back.
“That wound is really deep. Su Lingxi, she—”
—She really was ruthless. But Yu Lin’an didn’t say it out loud.
Ye Zhuxu didn’t take any medicine from Yu Lin’an.
He simply looked deeply in the direction of the imperial palace, and in the next moment, vanished from sight together with Jingmie.
In the stillness of night, as stars wheeled across the sky—
At the very edge of the Northern Courtyard of the Demon Suppression Bureau, in a secluded small courtyard, Ye Zhuxu slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Blood was flowing from multiple places on his body.
Because he wore black, the color was obscured, but the fabric had soaked up so much blood that it had become heavy, exuding a sweet, cloying metallic stench.
He seemed not to notice.
He went to the courtyard, drew clean well water, tossed a silk cloth into a copper basin, took off his clothes, and began wiping off the blood.
The wound on his right shoulder was the most serious, yet he didn’t rush to tend to it.
He allowed the wound to tear open further with his movements, letting the intense pain return again and again, each time more violently, pressing endlessly on his nerves.
He reached out with his left hand and slowly felt toward his shoulder blade.
There, a deep, penetrating wound.
His fingertips were soon coated in blood.
But he didn’t care.
He continued probing, inch by inch into the mangled flesh, until he touched the rune embedded in his bone—and pulled it out.
Throughout the process, he only furrowed his brows once.
Warm blood gushed from the wound like lava from a small volcano, but Ye Zhuxu ignored it.
His full attention was on the rune in his palm.
The rune was smooth and rounded, without any sharp or jagged edges.
It gave off a faint glow, like a stroke or curve from a calligraphy painting—not something that looked capable of causing such harm.
Yet Ye Zhuxu closed his eyes and weighed the rune in his hand again and again.
Slowly, he moved it from its original position in the shoulder blade down… finally stopping beneath one of his ribs—right over his beating heart.
He pictured Su Lingxi’s face.
Imagined that this rune had been meant to be nailed there, deep into his chest.
Deeper.
Heavier.
More painful.
So that perhaps…
For a long while, he would stop degrading himself, stop clinging to those false, fragmented memories.
So that even when he saw her face again, he could remain cold and untouched, unmoved to the end.
Ye Zhuxu frowned slightly, suddenly sensing a presence rapidly approaching.
Blood.
It was the sword puppet.
He pushed open the window lattice, finally pressing a clean cloth to his shoulder.
Because of the blood loss, his lips had gone pale, and his long, slender fingers were nearly colorless.
Standing in the moonlight, his eyes gradually darkened like deep ink.
He stood perfectly straight, silently waiting—for a blow that could finally shatter his heart.
To die tonight, without even a place to be buried.
A small fish appeared at the window.
Smelling the blood, it hesitated, locking eyes with Ye Zhuxu, uncertain whether it should enter.
Ye Zhuxu’s gaze fell on the sword threads atop its head—the ones he had given it.
He seemed like he wanted to smile, but in the end only tugged at the corner of his lips.
His voice was soft.
The first thing he asked wasn’t:
“Did you kill them?”
He asked:
“…How many?”
The sword puppet, inhabiting the chubby body of a fish, having narrowly survived, was overwhelmed with emotion.
It danced around, holding the white sword threads as it cried out:
“Just one! Only you!”
Ye Zhuxu suddenly lifted his eyes.
The fingers pressing against his shoulder wound tensed like they’d been burned, then slowly curled inward.
As if he hadn’t heard clearly, he stepped closer, slowly asking:
“What?”