She let out blood tears from her eyes:
“I waited seven years, watching you guard the empty Bright Moon Peak all alone, watching you be humiliated by others yet forced to put on a smile. I swore that once I grew stronger, I would kill everyone who ever touched you, then take you away to a place with only the two of us.”
Su Wan’er was struck as if by lightning, and she sharply turned to look at Shen Mo: “Yunlai… what did she do to A-Mo?”
Shen Mo’s face was deathly pale. The memory he most wanted to forget was being torn open in public.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
“Teacher doesn’t know?” Chao’er’s smile grew even more eerie.
“Then let me tell you. Yun He Archon entered the Bright Moon Peak Main Hall under the guise of delivering a congratulatory gift, and slipped Chunchun San into the incense. Master’s Husband was—”
“Stop it!” Shen Mo cut her off with a fierce shout, his body trembling slightly.
Su Wan’er’s hand gripping the sword was shaking. She turned to look at Shen Mo, tears welling up in her eyes: “Is it true? A-Mo, what she said… is it true?”
At that moment, violent explosions of spiritual power rang out from the distance—Qin Shuying and Han Yi were locked in fierce combat with Yun Fuling and the two Corpse Puppets.
Spiritual qi was drawing closer and closer, and someone was clearly heading in this direction.
Chao’er’s gaze sharpened: “No time left, Master’s Husband. Come with me. Now.”
She extended her hand, and black demonic qi surged from her palm, condensing into chains that shot straight toward Shen Mo.
Su Wan’er slashed at the chains with her sword, but the backlash of demonic qi split her tiger’s mouth open, blood streaming down.
Chao’er, now corrupted by the demon path, had strength already approaching Deity Transformation.
“Wan’er!” Shen Mo caught the staggering Su Wan’er, a resolute look flashing through his eyes.
He stepped in front of Su Wan’er, facing Chao’er: “I’ll go with you. But let her leave.”
“A-Mo!” Su Wan’er grabbed hold of his sleeve.
Chao’er’s gaze darkened: “Teacher, you still choose her? Even though she paid you no mind for seven years? Even though I’m the one who’s been watching you, guarding you—”
Before she could finish, Su Wan’er suddenly bit the tip of her tongue and sprayed a mouthful of Essence Blood onto her lifebound sword.
The longsword hummed, and the secret patterns inherited from Bright Moon Peak surfaced on the blade—she was burning her own foundation, forcibly elevating her cultivation level.
“I may not have been a good wife,” Su Wan’er wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, pointing her sword at Chao’er, “but these seven years of seclusion were only so I could return sooner, and protect him with dignity.”
“Chao’er, you are my most beloved disciple. But today, if you insist on harming him, then you’ll have to step over my corpse first.”
Chao’er’s eyes grew even more crimson: “Then die—”
Demonic qi surged skyward, turning into countless black tentacles that lunged at Su Wan’er.
“Mo’er, run!” she snarled at Shen Mo behind her without looking back, and at the same time, her form blurred as she thrust the Sword Gleam at Chao’er’s Chest with a desperate, undaunted resolve!
She knew her injuries were severe, and this strike might be futile, but if it could hold that demoness back for even an instant and buy Mo’er a slim chance at life, it was enough!
“Wan’er! No!” Shen Mo’s heart split apart as he tried to stop her, but the figure before him had already shot forward like an arrow from a bow!
Facing this suicidal strike, Chao’er didn’t even blink.
Her movement looked casual, but it was so fast it left only an afterimage!
“Puff!”
A soft sound.
Su Wan’er’s charging form suddenly froze!
She looked down in disbelief at her own chest.
The hand was very white—so white it seemed unlike a person who had crawled out of the Demon Abyss.
The fingers were slender, the knuckles well-proportioned, the nails trimmed neatly.
It was Chao’er’s hand.
When she had picked this child up from a pile of corpses seven years ago, those little hands were filthy, with dirt caked under the nails.
She had drawn warm water and, holding those small hands, washed them clean bit by bit.
In her dreams, Chao’er would curl up in her arms and timidly call her “Mother.”
Now, those very hands had pierced through the spiritual power barrier she had hastily erected, and had plunged deeply, steadily, into her left chest.
No blood sprayed.
Because the instant the hand entered, the terrifying, icy demonic qi surged through the palm into the wound, freezing the blood solid.
A sensation more dreadful than pain flooded Su Wan’er’s entire body. It wasn’t cold—it was being drained.
As if something at the very depths of her soul was being pulled outward, bit by bit, by that hand. Slow and irresistible.
“Ugh—!” Su Wan’er let out a pained grunt as blood gushed from her mouth, the light fading from her eyes.
The Sword Gleam collapsed, and her body fell limply forward.
“Wan’er!” Shen Mo’s eyes split with fury.
He rushed forward like a madman.
Chao’er moved faster, casually withdrawing the hand that had pierced Su Wan’er’s chest, pulling out a spray of frozen, dark-red crystalline blood foam.
Su Wan’er’s body toppled backward helplessly, caught by Shen Mo as he staggered up, cradling her in his arms.
“Wan’er! Wan’er! Are you okay?! Look at me! Don’t scare me!”
Shen Mo’s hand trembled as he futilely tried to cover the terrifying blood hole in her chest, but all he touched was cold, hard ice.
Chao’er’s demonic qi was rampaging through her body, spreading along her meridians, freezing every shred of life it touched.
“Wan’er, Wan’er… look at me, look at me!”
Su Wan’er’s face was ashen, her gaze unfocused.
Her lips moved, but only blood foam surged from her throat.
Finally, her head lolled to one side, consciousness lost, her breath so faint it was nearly imperceptible.
Chao’er flicked the blood off her hand and tilted her head, watching Shen Mo’s devastated expression with a flicker of displeasure in her dark-purple eyes.
But what dominated was a twisted excitement.
“Master’s Husband, why are you holding her?”
She pouted. “She’s so annoying. And, she’s about to die. If Master’s Husband likes her, once I take you back, I can make her into a beautiful puppet to keep you company, okay? Though… she won’t be as lively as she is now.”
She walked closer step by step, crouching down to meet Shen Mo’s eyes as he knelt on the ground.
She extended that pale, delicate hand—the same one that had just pierced Su Wan’er’s chest, yet was now clean as if untouched—wanting to stroke his tear-streaked face.
“Don’t cry, Master’s Husband.” Her voice softened to its gentlest, like coaxing a willful child.
“From now on, you only look at me, only think of me. I’ll be so, so good to you. Better than anyone in the world. We’ll be together forever, never apart again. Okay?”
Shen Mo suddenly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on her, brimming with hatred.
“You… what exactly do you want…” His voice was hoarse and broken, every word steeped in blood and tears.
“I want to take you home, Master’s Husband.” Chao’er smiled sweetly, a gleam of certainty shining in her dark-purple eyes. “Now, it’s just the two of us. No one will disturb us.”
She reached out, and this time, she grabbed his wrist without allowing refusal.
The touch was ice-cold and slick, like the tongue of a venomous snake.
“Let’s go, Master’s Husband.”
“We’re going, home.”
Home?
What kind of home was that?
A prison more cold and hopeless than the ice chamber of Heavenly Sword Peak? Or a nest more twisted and dark than the Devil’s Den?
Su Wan’er’s breath in his arms was as faint as a candle flickering in the wind, the warmth of her life slipping rapidly through his fingers.
Dragon Marrow Liquid… the Dragon Marrow Liquid he had just obtained! It was in another sleeve pocket on his person.
He had gotten it, but Wan’er… was having her heart meridians casually pierced by this demon girl right before his eyes!
No… I can’t leave… Wan’er… save Wan’er…
Despair surged over him like black tidewater, drowning everything.
Chao’er watched his state with fascination.
She rested her chin on her hands, her gaze rapturous.
“Master’s Husband looks beautiful when he cries, too.” She wrinkled her small nose, glanced at Su Wan’er, and said with a hint of disdain, “But we can’t bring this filthy thing along. Our home must be spotless.”
With that, she moved to yank him forcibly away from Su Wan’er!
“No—!!!” Shen Mo’s eyes split as he refused to let go.
“Tsk. How disobedient.” Chao’er pouted, her demonic claw shooting out like lightning.
Its target wasn’t him—it was Su Wan’er’s neck!
She was going to finish Wan’er off completely!
“!!!” Shen Mo’s heart stopped. His mind went blank.
But then, just as she was about to—
Chao’er let out a pained grunt.
She clutched her head as the demonic qi around her churned violently, the Demon Seal on her forehead flickering unsteadily.
“Teach… er…” she forced the words out, the crimson briefly receding from her eyes, revealing their original clarity. “Go… quickly… I can’t control… her…”
Shen Mo’s heart felt as if it were being twisted.
But the demonic qi quickly surged back.
“Fine, fine, I’ll do as you say,” Chao’er muttered to herself with a pout, her tone returning to that innocent yet cruel cadence. “Anyway, she’s about to die…”
She no longer reached for Su Wan’er, but instead grabbed Shen Mo’s wrist again.
This time, her force was greater, demonic qi surging, completely sealing his movements.
Then she extended her other hand and slashed through empty air—
The air before her seemed to split under an invisible blade, tearing open a narrow Spatial Rift with viscous purple light dripping along its edges!
Beyond the rift was an unfathomable, heart-chilling darkness, radiating dense spatial fluctuations and a sinister, unsettling aura.
This was clearly no ordinary teleportation spell, but an unstable spatial passage forcibly torn open by demonic power.
“Let’s go, Master’s Husband. Once we pass through this door, we’ll be home.”
She pulled Shen Mo along, about to step into the Spatial Rift.
Shen Mo suddenly raised his head.
Chao’er halted mid-step, looking back at him with some surprise.
Shen Mo stared at her intently: “You… don’t you want me… to only look at you, only belong to you?”
Chao’er blinked and nodded: “Yes.”
“Then…” his gaze slowly lowered, landing on his wife’s deathly pale face, “can you… first… save her?”
Chao’er froze.
“Save her… use your methods, keep her breathing.”
“As long as… she can still have a trace of life…”
“I… I’ll willingly… go with you.”
“From now on… I’ll only look at you, only think of you. Whatever you want me to do… I’ll do it.”
“Otherwise…” Shen Mo’s voice turned cold abruptly, carrying a desperate, all-in ruthlessness, “I’ll sever my own heart meridians on the spot, my soul scattering to nothing. I will never set foot in your home. All you’ll get is a corpse.”
He was gambling.
Gambling that this demon soul’s twisted, absolute possessiveness over him would win out.
Gambling that she wanted a complete, living, willing Master’s Husband—not a walking corpse or a relic full of regret.
Chao’er’s breathing grew rapid.
This was the promise she had dreamed of waiting for.
Every night in the Secret Realm, every hour in the Depths of the Demon Abyss, every instant she was seduced, corroded, and reshaped by the demoness’s voice, what she thought of was this—Master’s Husband willing to go with her.
But now, hearing those words come from Shen Mo’s mouth, she suddenly found they weren’t as sweet as she had imagined.
Because when he said them, the light in his eyes had gone out.