Everything Will End Tomorrow

Day Three.

When Bai Qiangu woke up, she found Ye Xuan was not by her side.

Her heart tightened abruptly. She sat up by reflex, her consciousness scanning the entire main hall in an instant...

Then she saw Ye Xuan.

He stood in the open space at the center of the hall, his back to her, practicing sword techniques.

Not a real sword, but a wooden stick.

His cultivation was only at the Foundation Establishment stage. Within the seventy-two prohibitions Bai Qiangu had set, he couldn't even summon a trace of spiritual energy. Yet he still swung that wooden stick with earnest devotion, each movement simple but carrying a strange kind of seriousness.

Bai Qiangu draped an outer robe over herself, walked over barefoot, and leaned against a pillar to watch him.

Morning light fell upon Ye Xuan. Sweat traced down the line of his jaw, pooling into a tiny rivulet at his collarbone. His movements were fluid and powerful, each swing of the stick carrying a whistling wind.

Bai Qiangu found herself captivated.

She recalled a time long ago, when Ye Xuan had first been brought back to the Demon Sect by her. Back then, he also practiced swordsmanship every morning. In those days, he trained to become stronger—to one day kill her.

And now?

Did he still want to kill her?

"What are you looking at?" Ye Xuan stopped, turned around, and smiled at her.

"At you," Bai Qiangu said without hiding it.

Ye Xuan walked over and reached out to ruffle her hair.

"Your hair's a mess again. Come on, I'll comb it for you."

Bai Qiangu obediently followed him back to the side hall and sat before the dressing table.

Ye Xuan stood behind her, picked up the comb, and ran it through her long hair, stroke by stroke.

"Qiangu."

"Hmm?"

"If... I mean if." Ye Xuan's voice was very soft, as if weighing every word. "If one day I'm no longer here, what would you do?"

Bai Qiangu's body tensed instantly.

She turned her head sharply, eyes wide as she stared at Ye Xuan:

"What did you say?"

"I said 'if.'" Ye Xuan's expression was calm. "Everyone dies eventually. My cultivation is low; my lifespan is limited. Maybe in a few hundred years..."

"No." Bai Qiangu cut him off, her tone resolute. "I will find a way to make you immortal. Even if I have to search heaven and earth, I will find it. You will not die. I won't allow you to die."

Ye Xuan looked at her, at the faint reddening of her eyes from agitation, and fell silent for a moment.

"Alright," he said softly. "Then I won't die."

He continued combing her hair.

Bai Qiangu turned back to face the bronze mirror.

But her hands gripped her knees tightly, her knuckles white.

Ye Xuan's words just now stirred a nameless unease deep within her.

That unease was like a thin sliver, piercing the softest part of her heart—not painful, but impossible to ignore.

She wanted to turn around and look at Ye Xuan's expression again, to seek some kind of confirmation in his eyes.

But she didn't turn around.

Because she was afraid.

Afraid that what she would see wasn't tenderness, but something else.

The night of the third day.

This was the last night of the three-day agreement.

Bai Qiangu treasured it more than anything.

She held Ye Xuan's hand as they lay side by side on the bed. The red bed curtains separated them from the entire world.

"Ye Xuan."

"Hm."

"Do you think our child would look more like who?"

"...Probably like you."

"I don't want that. How terrifying to look like me. I hope he's like you—with your eyes, your smile."

"What if it's a daughter?"

"A daughter would be fine too. If it's a daughter, I'll teach her cultivation, make her the strongest in the world. No one could ever bully her."

"Can't you just let her be an ordinary person? Live a peaceful, stable life?"

Bai Qiangu was silent for a moment.

Ordinary person.

Those three words felt more foreign to her than any immortal technique or secret art.

She had never been ordinary from birth. She was a cauldron, a weapon, the heir to the Demon Sect, the nightmare of the world. She had never experienced what "ordinary" meant.

"Would an ordinary person... be happy?" she asked softly.

Ye Xuan didn't answer immediately.

In the darkness, his eyes were open, fixed on the canopy above.

The candle flame had long been extinguished. Only the faint blue glow of the luminous pearl remained, outlining their silhouettes in blurred shadows.

"Yes," he finally said, his voice so light it was almost a sigh: "Ordinary people have their own happiness. Rise at sunrise, rest at sunset. Sow in spring, harvest in autumn. Eat when hungry, sleep when tired. On holidays, the whole family gathers for a reunion meal—children chasing chickens in the yard, a wife cooking a pot of hot soup at the stove..."

As he spoke, his voice gradually grew quieter.

Because the scene he described was once something he had possessed.

Before Bai Qiangu appeared.

Before that bloody wedding.

His father, his mother, his younger sister—they had once lived that way. Simple, trivial, warm.

Now they had all become cold corpses, nightmares that haunted him during his midnight wanderings, dreams from which he could never wake.

Ye Xuan's throat moved as he forced back the bitterness rising within him.

Can't show any cracks.

Not now.

"Qiangu," he said, turning onto his side and drawing Bai Qiangu into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head. "When these three days are over, let's leave this place."

Bai Qiangu's body stiffened slightly.

"Leave? Go where?"

"Anywhere is fine. Find a place where no one knows us. Build a small house, plant a vegetable garden. You won't be the Demon Lord anymore, and I won't be your husband. We'll just be two ordinary people."

Bai Qiangu's breath quickened.

She lifted her head, trying to make out Ye Xuan's expression in the darkness. The faint glow of the luminous pearl illuminated his face. His eyes were gentle and earnest, without a trace of jest.

"You... you mean it?"

"Mm."

"But... what about the Demon Sect? What about the subordinates? And the righteous path—they won't let me go..."

"None of that matters." Ye Xuan tightened his arms, holding her closer. "What matters is whether you want it."

Bai Qiangu buried her face in his chest and took a deep breath.

"I want it." Her voice was muffled, thick with emotion. "I've dreamed of it."

"Then it's settled."

Ye Xuan gently patted her back. One stroke, then another—slow and rhythmic, as if soothing a child to sleep.

Bai Qiangu gradually relaxed. Her breathing became even and prolonged.

She fell asleep.

In Ye Xuan's arms, she slept deeply. No nightmares, no waking in the middle of the night, no curling up and trembling alone.

It was the most peaceful sleep she had had in over eight hundred years.

But Ye Xuan kept his eyes open, staring into the void in the darkness.

His hand still patted Bai Qiangu's back, mechanical and repetitive.

His eyes were dry.

Dry as a desert scorched by a thousand years of blazing sun, unable to squeeze out even a single drop of moisture.

The woman in his arms breathed steadily. Her body was soft and warm, like a cat curled up in its owner's embrace. Her hands tightly clutched his lapels, unwilling to let go even in sleep, as if he would disappear the moment she released him.

Ye Xuan looked down at her peaceful, sleeping face.

In the darkness after the candlelight went out, her face shed all its sharpness and aggression, revealing a fragile, almost innocent beauty.

Her long lashes cast a fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyes, and the slightly upturned corners of her mouth carried a hint of contented smile, as if she were lost in a wonderful dream.

Ye Xuan stared at her for a long time.

Then he closed his eyes.

Tomorrow.

Everything would come to an end.