After Ye Jiuzhou finished speaking, he turned around, his back to Ye Xuan, not wanting to spare him another glance.
Ye Xuan didn't argue.
He put away the picture book, tucking it back into his robes, and simply turned his head to look at Ye Jiuzhou's breathtakingly beautiful profile in the setting sun.
The contours of that face were plated with a soft golden hue by the afterglow of the sunset. His nose was tall and straight, his lip line sharp, and the curve of his jaw clean and crisp; every line seemed like the most exquisite creation of heaven and earth.
Ye Xuan watched him, a flash of incomprehensible tenderness crossing his eyes.
This tenderness was not intense, not burning, and could not even be considered deep affection.
It was more like an incredibly fine silk thread, flowing silently and imperceptibly from the depths of those peach blossom eyes, landing lightly and softly on Ye Jiuzhou's profile.
Yet Ye Jiuzhou remained completely oblivious.
He was still immersed in his disdain for Ye Xuan's "mouthful of absurdities." He kept his back turned, his spine ramrod straight, his entire being exuding an icy aura that screamed, "I have nothing in common with a lowlife like you."
"Jiuzhou."
Ye Xuan suddenly spoke.
Ye Jiuzhou did not look back, but his footsteps paused.
"Actually, I'm not doing it for the beauties."
As Ye Xuan said this, he lowered his head, his gaze falling upon his own hands, which were covered in calluses and old scars.
His thumb rubbed against the rough rim of his wine flask, bloodstains from butchering demonic beasts earlier that day still lingering beneath his fingernails.
The setting sun stretched his shadow incredibly long, casting it over the edge of the cliff—half on the rock, half suspended in the air, precariously teetering.
"Hmm?"
Ye Jiuzhou stopped in his tracks.
He didn't turn around; he merely stopped.
His back, bathed in the sunset's fading glow, was enveloped in a thin layer of golden light, resembling a jade statue enshrined on an altar—perfect, cold, and untouchable.
Ye Xuan raised his head and looked at that back.
His lips moved, as if he were weighing his words.
This was an extremely rare occurrence for him. He had always been the type to say whatever came to mind, his mouth three beats faster than his brain. Yet at this moment, he was earnestly organizing his thoughts.
The wind surged up from the depths of the sea of clouds, carrying damp moisture and the fresh scent of vegetation from distant mountains, blowing through the three-foot distance between them, making it feel alternately far and near.
Finally, Ye Xuan spoke in a low voice.
"I was thinking... no matter how high you fly or how far you go in the future."
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.
"I want to at least be able to follow where you can see me."
His peach blossom eyes shifted from the sea of clouds beneath the cliff to rest on Ye Jiuzhou's back.
His gaze was steady, devoid of his usual playful laughter or feigned casual banter. All that remained was a naked, almost clumsy sincerity, stripped of all disguise.
"So that when you're tired and look back, you can see someone roasting a chicken for you, warming wine for you."
He smiled. This smile was different from any before; it wasn't a wide grin or a cheeky smirk, but a very shallow, faint smile, even carrying a trace of imperceptible bitterness.
"I don't want... to be left too far behind by you."
The wind stopped.
It was as if heaven and earth themselves held their breath at this moment.
The sea of clouds ceased its churning, the evening glow froze on the horizon, the distant mountains, the nearby cliff rocks, the bottomless void beneath their feet—everything fell still.
The entire world transformed into a painting in that split second.
And in that painting, there were only the two of them.
Ye Jiuzhou's heart skipped half a beat.
His heart felt as though it had been violently seized by an invisible hand, then released. In that tightening and loosening, something he had buried deep at the very bottom of his soul was forcibly torn out.
He whipped his head around and saw Ye Xuan.
The youth stood at the edge of the cliff, backed by the half-sunken remnant of the sun in the sea of clouds. The final rays of light spilled out from around him, encasing his slender silhouette in a blinding golden rim.
And those peach blossom eyes—
Those peach blossom eyes that Ye Jiuzhou had seen countless times, always smiling, always impossibly bright, now reflected the entire sunset.
The sky full of golden-red light burned within those pupils like two ignited flames, illuminating all the unspoken emotions hidden in the depths of the youth's eyes.
And in the depths of those flames, Ye Jiuzhou saw his own reflection.
A panicked, bewildered version of himself.
He had never seen such a version of himself in anyone's eyes.
A kind of unprecedented, extremely dangerous sentiment quietly took root and sprouted within Ye Jiuzhou's supposedly rock-solid sword heart.
Something was expanding in his chest.
It wasn't spiritual energy, nor was it sword intent, nor any power he could control with his cultivation base.
It was something fiercer than a heavenly tribulation, something that seeped deeper into the marrow than bone-eroding poison.
It bypassed all his defenses, pierced through all his disguises, and accurately struck the softest corner of his soul.
The little girl locked inside a man's skin, huddled in the darkness, suddenly raised her head at this moment.
No.
Ye Jiuzhou told himself frantically in his heart.
No, no, no.
He was a man. He had to be a man.
The Yin-Yang Creation Pill had reshaped his physical body; he was already a man.
He was going to marry a wife, have children, inherit the Sword God Palace, and become the number one sword cultivator in the world.
He couldn't...
"Nonsense!"
Ye Jiuzhou's voice suddenly spiked, as sharp as an unsheathed sword.
In a very short span of time, his face went from pale to red, to flushed, finally settling on an almost flustered crimson.
A tinge of red spread from the roots of his ears to his neck, and even his fingertips were dyed a faint pink.
His hands unconsciously clenched tight, his knuckles turning white and popping.
His chest heaved violently, his rapid breathing tearing away the last shreds of his usual composed demeanor.
"Who asked you to follow me?"
He rebuked sharply, yet his voice trembled.
This realization made Ye Jiuzhou even more angry, more panicked, and more desperate to flee.
"I am destined to ascend to the Nine Heavens. Why would I need a piece of trash like you following me?"
He spoke every word with icy resolve.
He didn't even dare to look at Ye Xuan again.
Because he was afraid...
He was afraid that if he took one more look at those peach blossom eyes reflecting the sunset, everything he had painstakingly built would come crashing down.
After saying the last word, Ye Jiuzhou raised his hand and gestured.
The Heaven Severing Divine Sword flew from his back, drawing a blinding golden arc in the air. The blade hummed and vibrated, sensing the violent fluctuations in its master's state of mind.
He leaped onto the blade, his robes fluttering wildly as he transformed into a streak of light that pierced the horizon.
He moved so fast it was as if he were fleeing for his life.
No, faster than fleeing for his life.
Even when facing the pursuit of the Blood Demon Patriarch, he hadn't used such speed.
He was escaping.
It was as if he were running away from the youth standing at the edge of the cliff behind him.
More so, he was running away from a certain persistence that had shattered in his heart in that split second.
After flying for a hundred miles, Ye Jiuzhou suddenly stopped.
He hovered high in the sky, surrounded by a churning sea of clouds, with the darkening firmament above him. The twilight was like a giant hand, slowly wiping away the last trace of light from the horizon.
He stood on his sword, his robes snapping loudly in the fierce high-altitude winds.
He remained completely motionless.
Like a lonely statue abandoned above the Nine Heavens.
A long time passed.
He slowly raised his hand and pressed it against his chest.
Beneath his palm, his heartbeat remained erratic, fluttering fast and then slow, like a wild, runaway horse rampaging within his chest.
He closed his eyes.
Echoing over and over in his mind were the words Ye Xuan had just spoken...
"I don't want... to be left too far behind by you."
Ye Jiuzhou pressed his hand down even harder, as if trying to force that disobedient heart back into its place.
"Ye Xuan..."
He soundlessly ground the name between his lips and teeth. The sound was torn apart by the wind, fading away into the vast, boundless twilight.
No one heard it.
But high in the sky, a hundred miles away, his eyes finally turned red.

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!