The Confrontation Eight Hundred Years After the Empress Arrived

Inside the Zixiao Palace, purple mist lingered.

However, this sacred and peaceful immortal blessed land was currently filled with a chilling callousness that made one's heart palpitate.

Ye Xuan leaned lazily against the main seat, his slender fingers carelessly playing with a storage ring that still carried a trace of body heat.

His divine sense roughly swept over the mountain of supreme-grade demon crystals and heavenly treasures piled inside. The curve at the corner of his mouth grew wider and wider, finally turning into a chuckle full of irony.

"Tsk."

He pinched a ten-thousand-year Blood Soul Pearl between two fingers. It was crimson as blood and contained boundless life force.

This supreme treasure, which was enough to trigger a reign of terror and bloodshed between the righteous and demonic paths, was tossed into the air by him like a peanut. He caught it in his mouth and bit it to pieces with a crisp crunch.

Rich blood energy exploded between his lips and teeth. Ye Xuan narrowed his eyes in comfort.

"Now, I've completely squeezed that demoness dry."

Beside him, Ying'er cowered in the corner, her face pale.

Looking at the master before her—who had just been acting deeply affectionate in front of the demoness, only to turn around and sell her out until she had nothing left—she felt a burst of cold air rush from the soles of her feet straight to the top of her skull.

"M-Master..."

Ying'er swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "That was Bai Qiangu... the leader of the demonic path, possessing the Undying Demon Body... You deceived her so miserably and even swept away half her treasury. Aren't you afraid she will..."

"Afraid?"

Ye Xuan opened his eyes. Where was there even half a trace of the deep affection he had shown when facing Bai Qiangu?

There was only a chilling clarity and disdain.

"Ying'er, you must remember."

Ye Xuan stood up, the hem of his robe brushing against the floor.

He walked slowly to the edge of the Zixiao Palace's terrace, looking down at the Demon Domain that was gradually turning into a black dot below. His tone was as flat as if he were evaluating a defective product:

"The person I fear least in this world is Bai Qiangu."

"Since she entered the demonic path, she should be severed from love and righteousness, decisive in slaughter. But what about that stupid woman?"

Ye Xuan sneered, his fingertips gently tapping the white jade railing. "She wants to be a whore, yet still wants a monument to her chastity. She desires absolute control, yet yearns for that illusory, ethereal warmth."

"Thousands of years old, yet she's lived her life in vain like a dog. She has cultivation capable of destroying heaven and earth, but her head is completely filled with the thoughts of a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old mortal girl."

Ye Xuan turned around, his back to the bottomless void, a cold light of understanding human nature flashing in his eyes:

"This kind of woman looks like a fierce tiger that devours people on sight, but in reality, as long as you give her a little sweetness—even if it's a piece of poisoned meat—she will wag her tail and swallow it down. She would even worry about whether you'd find her eating manners ugly."

Ying'er's scalp went numb as she listened, her legs going weak.

For the first time, she clearly realized that the sharpest weapon in her master's hands had never been a sword, but rather that cold, ruthless heart.

"Enough."

Ye Xuan clapped his hands, as if to brush off the demonic aura contaminating them.

The mockery on his face instantly retracted, and he put his signature, gentle-as-jade fake smile back on:

"Since we've shaken off that mad dog, we should go see the outside world."

"The Zixiao Palace's flight speed is unparalleled. By now, we should have already crossed the border, right?"

Ye Xuan was in a great mood. Standing with his hands behind his back, he took a step out of the Zixiao Palace.

"Let's go, Ying'er. Follow this seat to see the magnificent rivers and—"

However.

Before the word "mountains" could even fall from his lips.

The smile on Ye Xuan's face instantly froze.

"This..."

The world before his eyes had no mountains, no rivers, and even... no sunlight.

There was only a net.

An inescapable, suffocating net woven from steel, formations, and killing intent!

The firmament had been completely obscured.

Above and below, left and right, in all directions. Countless black-gold warships, each thousands of feet long, acted like moving steel fortresses, tightly surrounding the Zixiao Palace.

Above the warships, banners blotted out the sun. Black dragon flags embroidered with dark-gold suns, moons, mountains, and rivers fluttered fiercely in the astral winds, emitting roars like war drums.

Millions of black-armored cultivators floated in every inch of the void like a silent swarm of locusts.

That gathered iron-blooded murderous aura actually condensed above the nine heavens into a visible, ten-thousand-mile-long golden dragon of providence!

The golden dragon entrenched itself in the firmament, its indifferent dragon eyes staring dead at the tiny Zixiao Palace, as if looking at an ant that had fallen into the palm of a hand.

The Great Xia Immortal Dynasty.

The most terrifying state machine in Xuan Province.

At the exact moment Ye Xuan appeared.

The million-strong army moved in perfect unison, simultaneously dropping to one knee. The metallic clash of their armor merged into a thunderclap that exploded through heaven and earth!

Immediately after, the roaring soundwave of a million people rolled over, shattering the drifting clouds for ten thousand miles around:

"Respectfully welcoming His Highness, Consort Xuan!"

"Respectfully welcoming His Highness, Consort Xuan!"

The soundwaves were like a tsunami, wave after wave, carrying an unquestionable dominance as they viciously smashed against Ye Xuan's eardrums.

Consort Xuan.

These two words were like two poisoned thorns fiercely stabbing into Ye Xuan's brain. The corners of his eyes twitched violently, and a corner of his originally indifferent state of mind instantly collapsed.

He had just escaped the wolf's den, only to enter the tiger's lair.

Moreover, this tiger was crazier, stronger, more powerful, and far more... sick than the wolf from just now.

Above the firmament, a void fissure slowly tore open.

Nine five-clawed golden dragons radiating True Immortal auras slowly drove out, pulling an extremely luxurious imperial chariot.

The beaded curtains rolled up, and a figure descended from the nine heavens, stepping through the air as lotus flowers bloomed with every step.

She didn't release a single trace of spiritual energy, but the moment she appeared, the laws of this heaven and earth seemed to cheer and submit.

The Empress of Great Xia, Wu Lingxiao.

She wore a profound-black imperial robe with twelve crests and a twelve-tasseled imperial crown on her head. Her peerless, kingdom-toppling face originally bore the majesty of a sovereign ruling over the world.

But when her gaze pierced through the layers of warships and finally locked onto the figure in white as pure as snow...

Her so-called imperial majesty collapsed in an instant.

It was replaced by a spine-chilling fanaticism.

That kind of look in her eyes...

It was like a wild ghost that had starved for eight hundred years finally catching the scent of a living person's yang energy; like a drowning person desperately clutching the only straw.

Her gaze was a mixture of extreme possessiveness, suppressed madness, deeply ingrained love, and... twisted remorse.

"Consort Xuan..."

Wu Lingxiao's voice trembled, carrying a barely detectable sob.

Swish!

The laws of space were like empty concepts beneath her feet.

In the next instant, she crossed a distance of thousands of feet directly, appearing less than three feet in front of Ye Xuan.

The defenses of the Zixiao Palace actually couldn't stop her.

She tremblingly reached out her hands, wanting to touch Ye Xuan's cheek, but her fingertips forcefully stopped half an inch away from his skin.

She was afraid.

Afraid that this was a dream, and it would shatter at a single touch.

"Eight hundred years..."

Wu Lingxiao's eyes were red. She stared dead into Ye Xuan's eyes, greedily tracing his features:

"I have searched for you for a full eight hundred years..."

"From the azure heavens above to the yellow springs below, I have turned over every inch of land..."

"Consort Xuan, my beloved consort... You are finally willing to return to my side."

"Come home with me, alright?"

If others heard these words, they would definitely sigh at the Empress's deep affection.

But Ye Xuan only felt a chill run down his spine. He understood this woman far too well.

Her "going home" meant a golden birdcage, an endless imprisonment.

However, in this suffocating silence.

Wu Lingxiao's peripheral vision swept behind Ye Xuan.

There stood a woman.

Ying'er was tightly gripping Ye Xuan's sleeve, trembling with fear.

Wu Lingxiao's phoenix eyes, originally full of tender affection, were instantly filled with monstrous hostility. Her poignantly beautiful face twisted in a flash, turning from a fairy in a painting into a life-claiming demon.

"Wretched wench."

These two words were squeezed out through her gritted teeth.

"Who gave you the gall... to touch my Consort Xuan?"

"Your filthy hands... actually dare to grab his sleeve?"

Wu Lingxiao abruptly turned her head, staring deadly at Ying'er's hands. Bloodshot veins burst in her eyes as the fire of jealousy burned away all her reason:

"Guards!"

"Seize this wretched wench for me!"

"I will skin her alive! Pull out her tendons! Chop off her hands and feed them to the dogs! I will use the thousand most cruel tortures in this world to make her wail for three days and three nights before she dies!"

The terrifying imperial might pressed down like a mountain. Ying'er fell to her knees with a thud, bleeding from her seven orifices, feeling as if her soul was about to be torn apart by this killing intent.

But she had, after all, made her way in the world following Ye Xuan.

Even if she was scared to the point of wetting her pants, her mouth couldn't stop.

Ying'er looked at Ye Xuan in despair: "Mas... Master... are... are you cursed with a fatal romantic destiny..."

"Why does every crazy woman want to kill me? This one is even more of a psycho... she even wants a thousand tortures..."

"I can't... live like this anymore..."

Ye Xuan ignored Ying'er's complaints, but he took a step forward, blocking the overwhelming imperial might.

Just this single protective action.

It completely shattered Wu Lingxiao's defenses.

"Consort Xuan! Come here!"

Wu Lingxiao reached out her hand toward Ye Xuan, her fingers grasping the air as if in a spasm, screaming hysterically:

"You are mine! You can only be mine alone!"

"Any woman who dares to lay a finger on you must die! They all must die!"

"That little slut from eight hundred years ago was like this, and so is this one now!"

She was waiting.

Waiting for Ye Xuan to bow his head to her and beg for mercy to protect the innocent, just like he did eight hundred years ago. As long as he was willing to soften a bit, as long as he was willing to beg her...

However.

Ye Xuan made a move that made Wu Lingxiao's very soul tremble.

He did not speak, did not beg for mercy, and was not even angry.

He just looked indifferent as he slowly raised his right hand and grasped the hilt of the Sun-Slaying Sword at his waist.

"Clang!"

A crisp, drawn-out, and resolute sword cry rang out in this deathly silent standoff.

A cold light flashed.

The icy tip of the sword pointed steadily, without a single tremor, right between Wu Lingxiao's eyebrows.

This scene was like a heavy hammer, ruthlessly smashing all of Wu Lingxiao's madness and fury.

Time stood still at this moment.

Wu Lingxiao was stunned.

She opened her mouth, but those vicious curses were stuck in her throat, unable to make a sound.

A massive panic and phantom pain instantly engulfed her.

The floodgates of her memories were forcibly pried open by this sword.

Eight hundred years ago. A rainy night. The Cold Palace.

That young man was just like this. He drew his sword without a word and pointed it at her.

That sword ultimately pierced her chest.

And it ultimately led to him dying in her arms.

"You..."

Wu Lingxiao trembled violently all over, her face as pale as paper, and she staggered back half a step.

The majestic dignity of the supreme Empress was completely gone; at this moment, she was just a pitiful, abandoned woman.

"Consort Xuan..."

"You are drawing your sword... against me?"

Her voice was unbearably shattered, carrying a heartbreaking despair:

"I am Wu Lingxiao! I am your wife!"

"Eight hundred years ago, you wanted to kill me for that woman..."

"Eight hundred years later, for this lowly maid... you want to kill me again?"

"Why? Why do you always draw your sword against me for other women? Could it be that in your heart, I am not even as good as these ants?"

Tears burst from her eyes, soaking her dragon robe.

Ye Xuan looked at her, his eyes devoid of killing intent, holding only a world-weary vicissitude and exhaustion.

That exhaustion was more hurtful than killing intent.

"Your Majesty."

An extremely alienated form of address.

"Even if I am his reincarnation, that is an old score from eight hundred years ago."

"Death is like the extinguishing of a lamp."

"Eight hundred years is enough time for the seas to change into mulberry fields. Your Majesty rules the world, why cling to a dried corpse?"

"Let it go."

"No!"

Wu Lingxiao abruptly covered her ears and shook her head madly. The imperial tassels on her crown collided violently, making a chaotic clattering sound:

"I won't listen! I won't listen!"

"What past lives and present incarnations! What death extinguishing like a lamp!"

"I only know that you are Ye Xuan! Your soul is Ye Xuan! You are my Consort Xuan!"

"You are mine! You can only be mine!"

She abruptly looked up, her eyes blood-red. The spiritual energy around her began to run rampant, and the surrounding space collapsed piece by piece:

"Guards! Bring Consort Xuan back to me!"

"Even if you have to break his legs, even if you have to lock him in iron chains, tie him up and bring him back!"

"As for that woman..." Wu Lingxiao stared deadly at Ying'er, tears of blood flowing from her eyes, "I will personally slice off her flesh piece by piece, and I will make you watch her die!"