A Heart Full of Scars

The side hall of the Ten Thousand Demon Palace had been temporarily transformed by Bai Qiangu into a bridal chamber.

At the center of the room stood a massive canopy bed, its curtains woven from thousand-year ice silk. As thin as cicada wings, they could block all external fluctuations of spiritual energy. The bed was spread with bright red mandarin duck quilts, and the pillows were embroidered with twin lotus blossoms on a single stalk.

On the low table beside the bed sat two cups for the bridal toast.

The wine was "Drunken Immortal Brew," which Bai Qiangu had treasured for three hundred years. It was said to be made from nine-day celestial dew and ten-thousand-year spirit fruits. Smooth on the palate with a lingering aftertaste, a single drop could extend a mortal's life by ten years.

Bai Qiangu had changed into a wedding gown.

She stood before a bronze mirror, carefully perfecting her makeup.

She traced her brows, applied color to her lips, and affixed a floral decal to her forehead.

Her hands trembled slightly.

Not from nervousness.

But because she was terrified this was all a dream.

"Qiangu."

Ye Xuan's voice came from behind her.

Bai Qiangu looked at him through the bronze mirror. He wore a bright red groom's wedding robe, his long hair tied up in a high jade crown. He looked like a celestial being stepping out of a painting.

He walked up behind her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You are beautiful," he said.

Bai Qiangu met his eyes in the mirror.

Those eyes were tender like spring water, reflecting her image: a woman in a red wedding gown, her face full of hope.

Not a Female Demon Lord.

Not a Demon Empress.

Just a woman.

"Really?" Her voice was a little hoarse. "I... I'm not great at this. Servants always did it for me before. I've never done my own makeup."

"Really," Ye Xuan said softly, his voice as light as a feather landing on water. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen."

Bai Qiangu's eyes reddened again.

She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. She couldn't cry; the makeup she had just applied would smudge.

"Let's drink the wedding toast." She turned around, took Ye Xuan by the hand, and led him to sit on the edge of the bed. She picked up a wine cup and handed it to him.

They intertwined their arms and drank.

The Drunken Immortal Brew slid down her throat, a warm liquid traveling through her esophagus into her belly, transforming into a current of warmth that flowed through her limbs and bones.

A faint blush spread across Bai Qiangu's cheeks, and her gaze became hazy and soft.

"Ye Xuan."

"Hmm?"

"Do you know... I've waited for this day for so, so long."

She set down the cup, turned sideways, and rested her head on Ye Xuan's shoulder. Her voice was so soft she might have been talking to herself.

"From the day you slipped that grass ring onto my finger in the valley, I started waiting."

"I waited twenty years for you to grow up. I went to find you, full of joy, only to see you marrying someone else."

"I hated it. I hated it so much I wanted to destroy the entire world."

"Later, I brought you back. I thought that if I just kept you by my side, you would slowly come to love me. But you hated me. You wanted to kill me. You touched other women just to disgust me."

"I hated you even more. I hated you, and I hated myself."

"When I tormented you, I was tormenting myself. Every cut I made on you, my heart split open with another crack."

"But I couldn't stop. Because I didn't know any other way to make you remember me."

She lifted her head to look at his profile, a cautious humility in her eyes.

"Now... you're willing to stay, aren't you?"

"You won't run away again, will you?"

"You'll give me a child, and we'll live like ordinary people—a family of three, living a simple, peaceful life. Right?"

Ye Xuan was silent for a moment.

Then he turned his head, reached out, and gently cupped her face.

His thumb brushed across her cheekbone, over the tiny teardrop mole at the corner of her eye, and finally stopped at her slightly trembling lips.

"Yes."

He lowered his head and kissed her.

Bai Qiangu's body went rigid for a moment, then seemed to melt as she collapsed softly into his arms.

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his lips.

This was the first time in her life she had been kissed tenderly.

Every intimate encounter before had been forced. Ye Xuan's lips had been cold, his body stiff, his gaze empty.

But this time was different.

This time, he had taken the initiative.

His lips were warm. His arms were strong. Through the thin fabric of their clothes, she could feel his heartbeat.

Bai Qiangu felt like her heart was about to explode.

She clutched Ye Xuan's lapel tightly, like a drowning person grasping the last piece of driftwood.

"Ye Xuan..."

"Yes."

"Your heart is beating so fast."

"Because I'm nervous."

"Me too."

The red candles flickered, casting wavering shadows.

The red bed curtains swayed gently in the breeze, like a blooming flower.

That night, Bai Qiangu used no force. None at all.

In fact, she was almost awkward. This merciless Female Demon Lord, when faced with genuine tenderness, didn't know what to do. She didn't know where to put her hands, how to control her breathing, and she was so nervous she even bit her own lip.

Ye Xuan took her hand and placed it over his heart.

"Don't be afraid," he said.

Bai Qiangu looked into his eyes. They reflected the light of the candles, warm and bright.

At that moment, she suddenly felt that this was worth trading for the entire world.

The next morning, Bai Qiangu was awakened by a beam of sunlight.

The wards of the Ten Thousand Demon Palace blocked out everything from the outside world, including light. This was a simulated sunlight created by Ye Xuan with a night pearl—a soft, warm yellow glow that filtered through the thin gauze curtains onto her face.

She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was Ye Xuan's face.

He was lying on his side beside her, one hand propping up his head, the other gently playing with her hair scattered across the pillow.

"Awake?" He smiled faintly.

Bai Qiangu froze for a moment, then sat up abruptly, instinctively reaching to touch her face. She was afraid she had slept in an ugly pose, that there might be drool marks, that her hair was a messy disaster.

Ye Xuan was amused by her reaction.

"Don't touch it. You look great."

Bai Qiangu's hand froze mid-air, and she blushed again.

She realized that she blushed more and more easily around Ye Xuan now.

This stirred a strange unease within her. She was the supreme ruler of the demonic path. She should be cold, commanding, untouchable. But in front of Ye Xuan, all her armor fell away, revealing the soft, fragile little girl inside, hungry to be loved.

"I'll make breakfast." She threw off the covers to get out of bed.

"No need." Ye Xuan took her hand. "Let me do it today."

"You?" Bai Qiangu looked at him doubtfully. "You can cook?"

"I've been cooking for myself since I was eight." Ye Xuan got up and casually threw on a robe. "Don't forget, I grew up in the mountains."

Bai Qiangu sat on the bed, watching Ye Xuan busying himself in the small kitchen attached to the side hall.

His movements were practiced. Rinsing rice, lighting the fire, chopping vegetables—all done in one smooth flow. The flames on the stove rose and fell at his command. The porridge bubbled in the pot, steam carrying the fragrance of rice filling the air.

Bai Qiangu hugged her knees, rested her chin on them, and stared unblinkingly at Ye Xuan's back.

His back was broad and straight, outlined by the morning light in a shimmering golden silhouette.

She suddenly felt that if time could stop forever at this moment, it would be perfect.

No Demon Sect, no righteous path, no hatred, no killing.

Only him, only her, and this pot of steaming white congee.

"Qiangu, time to eat."

Ye Xuan walked over carrying two bowls of congee, setting them down on the low table in front of her. He also laid out several small dishes—pickled radish, stir-fried bean sprouts, and a small saucer of cucumber pickles.

All ordinary home-cooked dishes from the mortal realm.

Bai Qiangu took a sip of the congee, and her eyes lit up.

"It's good."

"Better than what you make, right?" Ye Xuan raised an eyebrow.

"...Not at all." Bai Qiangu was stubborn, but the corners of her mouth had already curled up to her ears.

After breakfast, Ye Xuan took out a comb and sat down behind Bai Qiangu.

"Let me comb your hair."

Bai Qiangu's body stiffened slightly.

Combing her hair.

This gesture held a special meaning for her. In the immortal cultivation world, a husband combing his wife's hair was one of the most intimate acts, symbolizing "binding their hair together as one, growing old side by side."

She slowly turned around, offering her back to him.

Ye Xuan's fingers ran through her waterfall-like black hair, combing from the crown all the way to the ends. His movements were gentle, slow. Whenever he encountered a tangle, he carefully untangled it strand by strand, never pulling roughly.

Bai Qiangu closed her eyes, feeling the tingling sensation traveling across her scalp.

This feeling reminded her of a long time ago.

She had never known her mother.

Her mother had died giving birth to her, her vital essence drained dry by her father, leaving not even her bones behind. But in the haziest depths of her memory, there seemed to be a pair of gentle hands, softly stroking her hair when she was still an infant.

Maybe it was real.

Maybe it was just her imagination.

But at this moment, the touch of Ye Xuan's fingers threading through her hair overlapped with the gentleness of that vague memory.

"Qiangu."

"Hmm?"

"Your hair is really beautiful. Dark and shiny, like silk."

"...You didn't say that before. You used to say my hair looked like snakes."

Ye Xuan's hand paused, then he let out a soft laugh.

"That was before. It's different now."

"What's different?"

"Now I think everything about you is beautiful."

The tips of Bai Qiangu's ears turned as crimson as if they were about to bleed.

She lowered her head, biting her lips tightly to keep herself from making any sound.

But her shoulders were trembling slightly.

Ye Xuan couldn't see her expression, but he could feel her trembling.

His hand didn't stop. He continued combing her hair, stroke after stroke.

His movements were as gentle as when caressing a wounded little beast.

But his eyes...

If Bai Qiangu could see the look in his eyes at that moment, she would have noticed that deep within those tender eyes lay a darkness darker than the killing aura of the Ten Thousand Demon Hall.

It was the look of a man who had already decided to die.

Calm, cold, utterly devoid of any will to live.

All the gentleness was a performance.

All the smiles were a mask.

Beneath the mask was a heart already riddled with wounds, beyond repair.