This time, after their night together ended, Su Bai woke up wishing she had simply died back then.
She understood now—this demon was seducing her with psychological tricks while constantly lowering her boundaries.
If she gave in this time, what about next time? The Little Blue Bird Game? That certain Moderator’s Game? Or maybe the Pineapple Bun Prison?
This demon was like a hound smelling blood, exploiting every crack, trying every means until her spirit surrendered, until she degenerated into submission, until every position was discovered and unlocked.
Silently grinding her teeth, she endured, while Nie Ai from the Blood Body urged the cultivation process along.
Until one day, perhaps seeing Su Bai reciting the “Longevity Tranquil Heart Mantra” in her palace every day to the point of almost becoming a zealot, Zhou Xuan did something unusual—he suggested taking her outside for a walk.
“Go out with you?” Su Bai was stunned, then nodded. “Good idea. Being cooped up all this time is dull. I should see what the world looks like, two hundred years after I fell unconscious.”
“Please change your attire, Master,” Zhou Xuan said respectfully.
“This outfit is fine.”
Su Bai patted her verdant imperial robe, a Nascent Soul spirit treasure. It required no spiritual power to maintain. The only regret was that she had cared only about appearances when acquiring it, investing all its properties in endless transformations and noble luxury, neglecting even a shred of offensive spells—its only use was defense.
“Please change your attire, Master,” the man repeated, a faint smile on his lips. “Your disciple heard from those old ghosts that Master might have quite the background, filled with many interesting things in her mind. Just like last time.”
“Master, those legs of yours—I still can’t forget them. I bet your wardrobe can also satisfy your disciple’s eyes.”
He paused, the corners of his mouth curving up.
“Master, you wouldn’t want this Nascent Soul Heavenly Venerable, who can soar through the heavens and traverse the Five Realms, to bring back those so-called righteous thieves you admire, and turn them into human pigs, right?”
D
Su Bai:
This wretched thing!!
With a graceful lift of her jade hand, she brushed lightly over herself. In an instant, the verdant imperial robe transformed into a sleek businesswoman’s outfit, complete with black stockings. The tailored fabric hugged her curves perfectly, its black sheen emanating mystery and nobility.
Black stockings wrapped her long legs, adding a touch of allure. The collar fell open just enough to form a natural V-neck, elongating her fair neckline and showcasing her composed, mature charm—as if she were a capable and elegant secretary.
“How about this? Satisfied now?”
She adjusted the large golden-rimmed glasses that had also appeared, her long black-stockinged legs stepping into black leather boots. Su ‘Office Elite’ Bai looked at her disciple, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
“As expected of Master.” Zhou Xuan nodded with satisfaction, reaching over to unbutton a few pearl buttons at the collar, exposing her slender collarbones and the faintly revealed snowy white bosom.
“But I think this look is even more appealing.”
Damn it!
Sure enough, no matter what world you’re in, old perverts don’t need to be taught!
The two of them boarded a flying vessel, which shot like an arrow through the clouds. Su Bai stood atop it, gazing downward with a solemn expression. All she could see were scattered villages dotting the earth like stars—gone was any sign of bustling markets or prosperous cities.
It was as if they had entered the utopia spoken of in the Daoist classics: a small country with few people, neighboring states within view, chickens and dogs audible from afar, yet the people lived their whole lives without visiting one another.
At this moment, Zhou Xuan spoke up beside her, as if explaining to Su Bai: “Ever since Master fell into a coma two hundred years ago, the ownership of mortal towns and villages was transferred from the sects to the Azure Emperor Divine Palace. After I took power, any settlement with over a thousand households was split into separate villages. The same applies across the Five Realms and Two Skies.”
“The Western Desert lacked water, so water from the east was diverted westward; the Eastern Sea lacked land, so land was filled in from the Southern Mountains; the Northern Plains suffered heavy snow, so the [Heavenly Emperor Spirit-Locking Array] was used to turn snow into rain and nourish the Western Desert.”
“Now, the population of mortals in the Five Realms far exceeds the past. Cultivators and mortals live as one family. No one picks up lost property, no one locks their doors at night. All are like the sage-kings Yao and Shun, all are saints.”
“I implemented the ideals that Master once dismissed as mere fantasy: equality for all and a great harmonious society.”
“Then how did you solve the problems of feeding, clothing, and housing so many people? Grains, oil, salt, firewood—issues of land annexation, management, corruption, and the abuse of power?”
Though Zhou Xuan’s description was grand, Su Bai could still see the flaws. As the saying goes: the more people, the more scattered their hearts; the harder it is to lead a large group.
With so many mortals, how did the Azure Emperor Divine Palace manage them? Mortal self-government, or immortals ruling mortals? Either way, you’d need a system of governance, and power struggles and corruption would be unavoidable.
Zhou Xuan said nothing, only letting his eyes linger on her V-neck, as if hinting at something.
Su Bai knew exactly what he meant—he wanted a “paid answer” next. Cursing him as an “old lecher” in her heart, she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Zhou Xuan’s, intentionally pressing her soft, snow-white ** tightly against his arm, and said in a coquettish voice, “Good disciple, tell your Master, won’t you~~”
Only then did Zhou Xuan speak, satisfied: “In every village, two [Divine Emperor Guards] are stationed, ensuring that each village has its own defenders and isolating them from each other. Without communication between villages, there’s no management system, and therefore no power struggles or corruption.”
“As for grains, oil, and salt, spiritual power is the universal fix—it can provide for all needs. Of course, except for essentials like salt, oil, and medicine, everything else must be earned with their own hands.”
“The [Heavenly Emperor Spirit-Locking Array] also regulates the climate each year, making sure that even the most barren fields yield enough grain to keep everyone well-fed.”
The more Su Bai listened, the more off she felt, though she stifled the growing unease in her heart. “With such comfort, the population must explode, and more land must be cultivated. How did you solve the land issue?”
“Simple—just control the population,” Zhou Xuan said blandly.
“What do you mean?”
A chill shot through Su Bai’s heart. An ominous premonition rose up.
Sure enough, the man’s next words chilled her to the bone, as if she’d plunged into an icy abyss!
“The young replace the old, the souls return to the Human Emperor Banner, the flesh to the Earth Emperor Cauldron—a rational way to control the population.”
“You’re raising people like pigs and sheep!!” Su Bai yelled in furious shock.
Zhou Xuan glanced at her in surprise, then shook his head. “Master, you misunderstand. People raise pigs and sheep to slaughter them for meat and bones. I give them stable lives and haven’t eaten a single grain of their rice.”
“Blood cultivators in the Southern Border, sandstorms in the Western Desert, snow disasters in the Northern Plains, tsunamis in the Eastern Sea—a natural disaster, an earthquake, a man-made calamity, how many people would die from any one of these?”
“But ever since the [Heavenly Emperor Spirit-Locking Array] has shielded the Five Realms and Two Skies, not a single mortal has died from such disasters. If that’s not the work of a saint, what is?”
“Souls returning to the Human Emperor Banner, flesh to the Earth Emperor Cauldron—how do you explain that? Isn’t that just farming people!?”
“All mortals must die. Their souls return to the world, their flesh nourishes all living things. What I do—”
“Master, in the end, you still lack the heart of the strong. For people like you and me, what difference does it make if all things live or die?” Zhou Xuan pulled her waist close, his other hand roaming and caressing without pause.
“I’ve already secured tickets to the next era. On that train, there’s only you and me—just the two of us.”
Isn’t this the law that has always governed the turning of the world?