Ye Chen felt the trembling of the girl in his arms.
He looked at her—now even taller than himself—and a complicated emotion rose in his heart, indescribable and elusive.
Her tears were hot, soaking through his chest, at first bringing a searing heat, then turning cold as they pressed against his skin.
Just like her heart over the past year, once burning with hope, now plunged into cold despair.
He could feel how hard her cultivation had been this past year.
Behind the seemingly glamorous title of ‘personal disciple of Heavenly Sword Peak’ lay countless lonely days and nights, uneasy breaths in unfamiliar surroundings, and…the pain of being gnawed away, bit by bit, by suspicion and malice amidst endless longing and waiting.
Suddenly, in Ye Chen’s mind, a divine thought belonging to the ‘Primordial Sword Sovereign’ surfaced—cold and clear.
[Sever the karmic ties.]
The voice told him this was the best opportunity.
Her defenses had completely collapsed.
At this moment, she was like a piece of red-hot iron—fragile, yet highly malleable.
If he pushed her away now, using the coldest words, words that embodied the ‘Dao of Ruthlessness’, and told her that all of this was merely an illusion on the path of cultivation, he could sever this heavy bond once and for all.
For her, it would be ‘to die and then be reborn’—perhaps she could break through the barrier of emotion, let her Dao heart become clear, and soar into the sky.
For himself, it would be shedding the shackles of the mortal world, becoming free of attachments, and returning to the lonely and pure path of seeking the Dao.
It was an incomparably rational, incomparably ‘correct’ choice.
That thought carried a fatal allure.
Ye Chen could even ‘see’ the path after severing karmic ties—clean, pure, free of any worldly noise or burdens.
His fingers even moved slightly, a faint urge arising to push away the person in his embrace.
However, at that instant, an inexplicable tremor, deep and bone-chilling, surged from the depths of his soul!
It wasn’t emotion.
It was an intuition that transcended emotion.
A kind of instinctive insight into the laws of heaven and earth, into karma and fate, stemming from the ‘Primordial Sword Sovereign’.
Before his eyes, a broken scene seemed to flash.
In it, a pair of eyes had lost all light, emptier than the deepest night.
The supreme talent of the ‘Jade Root’ had become a vortex of destruction, devouring all.
A peerless flower that should have bloomed brilliantly, after losing its only source of light, did not wither—but instead, resolutely embraced the deepest, most twisted darkness.
[You will destroy her.]
The intuition told him so, with undeniable clarity.
Not just the shattering of her Dao heart, nor the stagnation of her cultivation.
But utterly, from the root…destroy her.
The reason she could endure the loneliness of an unfamiliar world and strive so hard in her cultivation originated from the ‘seed of hope’ he had planted in her heart.
If he now tore this seed out with his own hands, everything supporting her would collapse in an instant.
Her future, her supreme talent, her very self—all would become the most tragic burial offerings after the seed’s destruction.
So…he was not just scenery along her path of cultivation, but the very Foundation of her road.
If the Foundation collapses, the towering structure turns to dust in an instant.
Ye Chen’s slightly trembling fingers finally relaxed, then gently, comfortingly patted the small back in his arms.
He gave up that ‘correct’ yet cruel choice.
The crying in his arms gradually changed from heart-wrenching wails to quiet sobs.
She seemed to have exhausted all her strength in her tears, leaning all her weight on him like a weary bird finally returning to its nest, greedily absorbing the warmth and peace that had been lost and regained.
The night wind blew through the courtyard, stirring a few fallen leaves with a soft rustle.
The two of them just held each other silently, time stretching on in that moment.
A long, long time passed.
Ye Chen lifted his head, gazing at the night sky shrouded in dark clouds, and let out a sigh so faint it was almost inaudible.
He truly had thought about letting Xiaoxiao slowly distance herself from him before, but due to his own carelessness, things had gone so far.
Within that sigh was helplessness, pity, and also…a resolute acceptance of this heavy karma.
The divine thought that had suddenly appeared in his mind wouldn’t dissipate.
He thought to himself that it would have to be a slow process—Xiaoxiao relied too much on him and the past they shared.
How could he let her properly separate herself from this ‘useless thing’ that deviated from the Dao?
A tearing pain flashed through his mind.
He felt as if there were things he had forgotten.
What were they?
He couldn’t remember.
……
When the sobbing in his arms finally subsided, Ye Chen realized the girl’s body was no longer so tense.
He gently supported her shoulders, pulling her away from his now-cold chest.
They shifted and sat side by side on the edge of the bed.
The darkness of the room felt especially tranquil.
Only sparse moonlight from outside the window cast a cold glow across the floor.
Xiaoxiao didn’t speak.
She merely reached out, almost by instinct, and tightly hugged Ye Chen’s right arm, resting her head against his shoulder.
Warmth seeped through their clothes, carrying the calm of having survived a great ordeal.
She closed her eyes, feeling his presence, the contours of his arm.
How wonderful.
It wasn’t a dream.
This peace, in this moment, was the only extravagant wish she had craved during all the nights over the past year when nightmares woke her.
So long as she could stay quietly by his side, it surpassed all the beauty and glory of the world.
It seemed that braving the path of cultivation, enduring loneliness and misunderstanding, had been…the most correct decision she had ever made.
Because only this path allowed her to gain enough strength to return to his side, and perhaps…even keep him there forever.
Truly…too wonderful.
In the shadows where no one could see, the corners of Xiaoxiao’s lips curled into a satisfied yet possessive smile.
Naturally, Ye Chen didn’t know the storm of thoughts raging in the girl’s heart.
He could only feel that this tightly entwined dependence had become a heavy and tangible line of karma, binding their fates together.
Trying to sever it now would be no easy matter.
“Gongzi…”
In the silence, Xiaoxiao suddenly raised her head.
Her tear-washed eyes were dazzling as she fixed them on Ye Chen’s profile, her voice nasal and cautious.
“From now on…every week, you have to come to Heavenly Sword Peak to see Xiaoxiao, okay?”
Her voice was soft, tinged with a plea.
But at the end, there was a stubbornness that wouldn’t allow refusal.
“Otherwise…otherwise…”
She seemed to want to say something threatening, but couldn’t bring herself to, and finally muttered in a small, aggrieved voice,
“…Xiaoxiao will…will worry.”
Ye Chen turned to meet her expectant, uneasy gaze, his heart stirring.
He spoke gently:
“Xiaoxiao, you’re now a personal disciple of Heavenly Sword Peak, of noble status. You don’t need to call me ‘Gongzi’ anymore. Your position—”
“No!”
Before he could finish, Xiaoxiao cut him off urgently.
Her voice rose abruptly, and her hands clutched his arm tighter, as if afraid he would vanish.
“‘Gongzi’ is Xiaoxiao’s exclusive way of addressing you!”
Her words were broken and hesitant, a blush rising on her cheeks as her voice dropped, shy.
“Xiaoxiao…likes calling you Gongzi…”
She took a deep breath, as if gathering all her courage, then lifted her head again, lips pouting in mild displeasure.
“Gongzi, don’t change the subject! You still haven’t answered Xiaoxiao’s request!”
Seeing her like this, Ye Chen couldn’t help but laugh.
“Xiaoxiao, the path of immortal cultivation is endless, spanning the lives of all cultivators. Sometimes a single closed-door cultivation can last years or even decades. If I went to find you every week…”
He didn’t finish, afraid of upsetting her fragile mood again.
Unexpectedly, Xiaoxiao didn’t immediately argue this time.
Instead, she furrowed her brows in thought, looking seriously contemplative.
She seemed to realize that, for a cultivator, her request might be too much.
After a moment, she looked like she was making a huge concession.
She compromised:
“Then…alright. Take this.”
She retrieved a smooth transmission stone from her Storage Ring and pressed it into Ye Chen’s hand.
“From now on, if Xiaoxiao misses Gongzi, she’ll call you with this. Gongzi…Gongzi must answer me, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Ye Chen gripped the still-warm jade stone, giving a sincere promise.
“Don’t worry, Xiaoxiao. I’ll definitely reply. Just sometimes, due to cultivation, I might be a bit late.”
“Hmph!”
Xiaoxiao huffed softly, dissatisfied, but didn’t push further—accepting his answer by default.
As the mood softened, she edged closer.
In a low voice, she asked,
“Gongzi, this year…did you live well at the foot of the mountain? Did anyone bully you? If anyone…if anyone dared bully Gongzi, Xiaoxiao would…”
Her voice unconsciously sharpened, a hint of fierceness creeping in.
“Haha.”
Ye Chen was amused by her protective tone, like a little beast guarding its food.
He interrupted her, deciding to reassure her completely with a bit of embellishment.
“Bully me? Xiaoxiao, you have no idea. When I first arrived at Sword Courtyard, the inner court disciples almost trampled the threshold trying to curry favor—bringing gifts, fawning over me. The door nearly got broken down…”
He exaggerated the events, making them sound fun and lively.
Xiaoxiao giggled, her brows arching, and the last traces of gloom seemed to vanish.
After a while, she let out a soft ‘mm’, whispering contentedly.
“Then…I’m relieved.”
As soon as she spoke, she suddenly flipped over, bracing her hands on either side of Ye Chen’s body on the bed, trapping him between her and the headboard.
The distance between them shrank in an instant.
Ye Chen could feel her warm breath and the faint fragrance from her hair.
Instinctively, he reached out, pushing her back slightly, frowning.
“Xiaoxiao, what are you doing?”
A hint of wounded grievance flashed in Xiaoxiao’s eyes.
She stared at Ye Chen, her tone full of righteous complaint.
“Doesn’t Gongzi care about Xiaoxiao at all? You never even ask if Xiaoxiao is doing well on Heavenly Sword Peak, if anyone bullies her…”
Ye Chen could only smile helplessly.
“With your status now, a personal disciple of Heavenly Sword Peak, Elder Qingyu’s favorite, who would dare bully you? Your master would be the first to object, right?”
“I don’t care!”
Xiaoxiao, seeing her little scheme exposed, turned her head away, pretending not to hear.
She hummed a tuneless song, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Just as she seemed ready to escalate the ambiguous atmosphere further—
Bzzz.
A faint fluctuation of spiritual power broke the silence of the room.
Another transmission stone on Ye Chen’s desk lit up without warning, casting a pale light that flickered across their startled faces.
Both their gazes were instantly drawn to that glimmer.
Ye Chen’s heart stirred.
This transmission stone…seemed to be the one given to him by that overly-familiar Yan Hongxiu.
What could she want so late at night?
But before he could react, the girl in front of him seemed to have had a switch flipped.
All the shyness, grievance, and playfulness vanished from her face in an instant, replaced by deep, unfathomable calm—or perhaps…blankness.
She looked at Ye Chen deeply, her gaze so complex it sent a chill through him.
Then, before he could react, her finger flicked.
A thread of pure spiritual energy shot out like an invisible wire, precisely wrapping around the glowing transmission stone and pulling it into her hand.
In the moonlight, the girl gripped the shining jade stone, her other hand still braced beside Ye Chen’s ear.
The cold glow illuminated her expressionless face, her eyes now dark and devoid of any previous light.