Liu Qiao’e said nothing, silently overlooking her former bedfellow from days past. Her eyes were calm and unruffled, as if gazing at a speck of dust beneath her skirt hem.
Han Yunche couldn’t help but shiver.
Countless nights of sharing the same bed—others thought he was showered with favor, and he had grown arrogant, believing he could manipulate this cold and ruthless woman with emotions.
How could the renowned Immaculate Old Mother be controlled by a nobody like him?
Han Yunche knew his end was near. He tilted his head slightly and glanced at his weeping lover beside him. He only hoped Liu Qiao’e would spare Bai Mengli’s life. “Today’s events were all due to my own foolishness. It has nothing to do with Dream Maiden. I beg the Old Mother to spare Dream Maiden’s life.”
Liu Qiao’e paused for a long while before finally speaking. Her tone was faint, carrying a detached indifference. “Why?”
Han Yunche was stunned.
Bai Mengli said in grief and indignation, “Why?! Brother Han was forced to submit to your lustful tyranny and has suffered endlessly these past few years!”
“Meng-niang!” Humiliation and pain immediately surfaced in Han Yunche’s eyes. “Don’t say it! To save your life, I did this willingly!”
Bai Mengli: “I must say it! These past few years, I endured your group’s depravity, your threats and bribes, your filthy tactics, all just to stay here and catch a distant glimpse of Brother Han now and then.”
Hot tears welled up uncontrollably in Han Yunche’s eyes as well.
Liu Qiao’e merely neither confirmed nor denied it. “Back then, it was you two who made the agreement with me. I never coerced either of you.”
Bai Mengli: “But you never said that making Brother Han follow you was—for him to—”
On the other side, Mu Daoying finally pieced together the sequence of events from their fragmented words.
It was actually a terribly clichéd story.
Han Yunche and Bai Mengli were childhood sweethearts, deeply in love.
Both came from noble backgrounds with matching family statuses, and their parents had betrothed them early on.
After the engagement, they often traveled together, righting wrongs and upholding justice, tempering their Dao hearts along the way.
Perhaps due to youthful recklessness, their actions sometimes had oversights. One day, a demon beast appeared and wreaked havoc in some place.
The two rushed over and, after a fierce battle, subdued the demon beast—but Bai Mengli was gravely wounded, her life hanging by a thread.
At this critical moment, the Immaculate Old Mother happened to appear.
Han Yunche’s youthful handsomeness captivated the Immaculate Old Mother at first sight.
Everything that followed was predictable.
The Immaculate Old Mother helped Han Yunche save Bai Mengli, but the price was that he had to return to Joyous Union Palace with her.
When Bai Mengli awoke, her lover was gone, leaving only a letter behind. One could imagine her inner torment.
After endless agony, she finally resolved to abandon her original name, adopting the alias “Bai Mengli,” and followed Han Yunche into this demonic lair she hated and despised the most.
Han Yunche closed his eyes.
These past few years, he had merely been putting on an act. Now, on the verge of death, he no longer needed or wanted to look at Liu Qiao’e again.
“I did indeed vow back then to ‘be your ox or horse.'”
But he hadn’t expected the nightmare that would follow.
He was beaten and cursed, forced onto this female demon’s bed, compelled—
At the thought, Han Yunche trembled all over and clenched his teeth.
Forced to serve a woman he didn’t love.
Countless days and nights of feigned intimacy, living in fear, selling smiles like a prostitute.
Han Yunche felt as if his very soul had been sold along with his body.
For someone born into a noble family, proud and aloof like Han Yunche, this was utter humiliation.
When Qi Mei approached him, he agreed without hesitation to join the betrayal against the Immaculate One.
He had no regrets for his actions today—only hatred that he couldn’t end the female demon’s life himself, and fear that he had implicated Dream Maiden.
“Winners take all, losers pay up. I’ll accept the consequences.” Han Yunche closed his eyes, not daring to meet his lover’s gaze as two streams of hot tears trickled from his temples. “Kill or dismember me as you wish, but all this has nothing to do with Dream Maiden. I beg the Old Mother, for the sake of those thousand-plus nights, to spare her life.”
Bai Mengli’s heart felt as if it had been split in two by knives, axes, and chisels.
She collapsed weeping over her dying lover’s body. “Why beg her? We dared to act, so we’ll face the consequences. Today, I’ll die here with you—there’s nothing to fear.”
Their deep bond moved even the worldly disciples of Joyous Union Sect who were present.
Mu Daoying felt a pang of pity as well.
But Liu Qiao’e watched the desperate lovers with a mood that shifted unpredictably, her gaze cold. “Fine. You want to die? I’ll grant you that!”
Disregarding their past as bedfellows, she flipped her hand and struck a palm toward the crown of Han Yunche’s head.
Han Yunche was already gravely wounded and defenseless. With Bai Mengli’s cultivation, how could she block it? She could only watch wide-eyed as her lover was smashed dead on the spot.
In that instant, the world spun before Bai Mengli’s eyes. Her grief and rage peaked, color drained from her face, and she seemed on the verge of expiring to follow him.
Liu Qiao’e followed up with a second palm.
But this second strike merely knocked her out cold—it didn’t take her life.
Now, Liu Qiao’e finally understood the inexplicable disgust she had felt toward Bai Mengli all along.
No woman would like another who coveted her man. And this woman hailed from Cloud Mountain Song Clan, no less!
Even if Liu Qiao’e had only been novelty-struck with Han Yunche, harboring little true affection.
Even if this man had been “stolen” from another woman’s side.
She didn’t care.
As long as every time she visited Han Yunche’s chambers, he greeted her with a smile and served her tenderly, she had no desire to know how much humiliation or suffering lay behind it.
She saved the girl, he sold himself—a fair transaction, in her view. As for Bai Mengli, she had never laid hands on her personally. Over these years with the clone, though they mutually despised each other, sparing her life was just a flick of the fingers.
With that, the current chaos was resolved.
The moment the Immaculate Old Mother emerged from seclusion, she had slain several lives, creating this chilling atmosphere.
The Joyous Union Grand Ceremony was, after all, a significant event in Joyous Union Palace. The Immaculate Old Mother turned and ordered Chen Yuro to continue hosting the assembly. She then shot off as a streak of light, vanishing into the distant main peak of Joyous Union Palace, Floating Flower Hall.
As the Immaculate Old Mother returned to the main palace, Liu Qiao’e stamped her foot on the ground and followed closely, disappearing into the horizon.
The once-empty main hall finally welcomed its master today.
The four doors swung wide open, cold curtains billowing, the gold-brick floor hard and austere.
Mu Daoying had been tucked into Liu Qiao’e’s sleeve and brought back to the main hall. The moment they landed, she flung him out from her sleeve, and his knees slammed heavily onto the mirror-polished golden bricks.
The sensation of his battered body crashing onto the ground was far from pleasant. Mu Daoying’s slender wrists slowly pushed against the floor as he struggled to prop up half his body, observing the woman before him.
…What was the relationship between Liu Qiao’e and the Immaculate Old Mother?
His mind raced halfway through the thought when, the next second, he witnessed a scene that shocked him so profoundly it would stay etched in his memory forever.
Liu Qiao’e’s figure turned into a streak of light and merged into the Immaculate Old Mother’s body in an instant!
The Immaculate Old Mother—no, or rather “Liu Qiao’e”—then glided over without her feet touching the ground.
She looked down imperiously at the young Daoist prostrated on the floor.
Mu Daoying raised his eyes. His features were refined—high nose, deep eyes, pupils as profound as an abyss, utterly calm.
Only then did he realize that Liu Qiao’e actually shared the exact same temperament as the Immaculate Old Mother.
Slender and cold, gloomy.
He was lost too deeply in thought and failed to notice that his gaze had lingered on Liu Qiao’e for too long.
Until a sudden slap whipped his head to the side, blood foaming from the corner of his mouth.
Liu Qiao’e snapped harshly, “Insolent! Who allowed you to look at me!”