Ye Xuan Never Lacks Resources

Gulp.

Bai Su swallowed hard.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through the thin red gauze she wore.

How could she not remember?

Ye Jiuhuang. That madwoman. That Living Hell King.

When Bai Su was still a little fox with only a few hundred years of cultivation, she had once seen Ye Jiuhuang from afar, across countless layers of mountain ranges.

Just that single glance.

The chilling killing intent contained in those eyes, as if condensed from the void itself, had crossed hundreds of miles—over mountains and rivers—and landed precisely on her like an invisible blade pressed against her neck.

After that, she had nightmares for a full five hundred years.

"Is she... truly your Dao partner?" Bai Su's voice carried a sharp, incredulous edge.

"Yeah."

Ye Xuan shrugged, his tone calm, with a trace of casual reminiscence: "Her temper isn't exactly good, and she's extremely possessive."

He paused, as if carefully choosing his words: "Last time, a Holy Maiden gave me a pair of jade pendants and tried to drag me out for a stroll. When she found out, she wiped out both the woman and her entire sect."

With that, he leisurely took a communication jade slip from his sleeve, twirled it idly between his fingers, looked up at Bai Su, and the corner of his mouth curled upward:

"Since Miss Bai Su has such intentions, I'll report it to her as protocol. She's in seclusion, but she should be able to sense it. Come now, try saying those words again into this jade slip—let her hear you?"

"Don't!"

Bai Su let out a nearly piercing scream.

As if struck by heavenly lightning, every hair on her body stood on end. She shot away from Ye Xuan with shocking speed, retreating to the deepest corner of the great hall.

Her back pressed against the wall, both hands flailing desperately, her voice already choked with tears:

"Don't! Please, don't! I beg you!"

"Paramour Ye! No—Ancestor Ye! I was wrong! Completely wrong!"

"Forget everything I just said! Let it be like wind passing by! I only hold admiration for you—not a shred of improper thought! Put that jade slip away! I beg you!"

Her nine white tails all clamped together, bundled into one mass, the foxfire on them flickering and trembling, revealing a desperate, cornered panic.

The nine-thousand-year-old demon king, the ruler of Qingqiu, shrank like a frightened little rabbit in the corner, her eyes filled with the lingering terror of a narrow escape.

Steal a man from Ye Jiuhuang?

That was asking to die too soon, and in too miserable a way.

Ye Xuan casually slipped the jade slip back into his sleeve, letting out a disappointed sigh: "Backing down already? I thought you had more nerve."

"I've backed down! Permanently! For life!"

Bai Su bolted toward the treasure vault. Moments later, she had dragged out ten whole black iron chests. Panting, she piled them at Ye Xuan's feet, forcing a smile that looked uglier than crying:

"Esteemed Ye, this is a small token of Qingqiu's regard. Take it, please take it—take it and leave. Above all, never, ever mention me to her."

She looked at him pitifully, her eyes full of pleading.

"I beg you."

Ye Xuan glanced down at the ten iron chests, casually opened the top one, weighed their contents, and took only the finest and most valuable portion, sending the rest back with a wave:

"Since you're being so generous, I'll accept."

He turned to look at Bai Su and casually added: "Don't worry. Jiuhuang is busy right now. She doesn't have time to bother with a little fox like you."

Bai Su's mouth twitched.

Little fox.

She, nine thousand years old, was called a "little fox" by him.

She took a deep breath, nodded repeatedly, and wished she could personally escort Ye Xuan out of Qingqiu territory—even a thousand miles away.

As the three walked through the edge of the Ten Thousand Demon Ridge formation, Bai Su's voice could still be heard roaring through the barrier, echoing fiercely in the valley:

"Seal the mountain!"

"Full clan lockdown! No one leaves for a thousand years! And no one speaks the name Ye Xuan within the sect! Anyone who does will kneel at the ancestral peak for three hundred years of penance!"

"And dig up all those mountain paths trampled by that Tribulation-Transcending power—repave them! The feng shui is all wrong!"

Ying'er burst out laughing, hugging a bag of spirit fruits she'd brought from the cave dwelling. She was utterly delighted: "Husband, that Miss Bai Su—just now she was so fierce, why did she change so fast? Who exactly is Ye Jiuhuang? Is she really that terrifying?"

Ye Xuan smiled without answering directly, just reached out and ruffled Ying'er's hair, his voice low and calm: "She's not that strong. There are more powerful ones."

Ying'er pouted, clearly dissatisfied with the answer.

"Ye Jiuhuang..."

Wu Lingfeng's voice dropped to a near whisper as she murmured involuntarily, "How have I never heard of her? And she's also your..."

Halfway through, she caught herself, realizing she had let slip more than she should. She bit her lip and fell silent.

Ye Xuan glanced sideways at her.

Then he looked away and continued walking.

Night fell.

The campfire blazed high, sparks leaping up in clusters, vanishing silently into the night wind.

Ye Xuan casually pulled a pill from his storage ring, not even checking its quality, tossed it into his mouth like a candy bean—crunch—and bit down.

Wu Lingfeng followed the sound with her eyes and recognized the faint golden gleam lingering on his fingertips.

That was a Ninefold Golden Elixir.

A pill that could spark bloody bidding wars on any major auction market. And he had just chewed it up and swallowed it without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow.

As if it were no more than a cheap, worthless sugar ball picked up on a whim from Qingqiu.

Wu Lingfeng stared at his face, eerily beautiful in the firelight, weighed down by the ever-mounting confusion of this journey.

And finally, she could hold it in no longer.

"Why?" Her voice came out a little hoarse, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Why didn't you take everything? They were clearly willing to give you all they had."

Ye Xuan didn't answer immediately. He simply closed his eyes, letting the pill's power flow through his meridians as a rolling wave of heat.

Wu Lingfeng pressed on, her voice growing more urgent: "Cold Moon Fairy—that woman practically wants to hand her very life over to you. And Bai Su, that little fox—she's terrified of you, but if you'd asked, she would have emptied her entire store without a second thought..."

Yet you've given them nothing.

Not even a single promise.

You just used your mouth, a few words, and walked away with thousands of years' worth of their wealth. How is this possible?

She paused, a rasp she hadn't noticed creeping into her voice: "And... why are they so willing to do it?"

She couldn't understand it. In the world of cultivation, resources were everything.

Without enough resources, no genius, no matter how brilliant, could grow quickly.

Ninety-nine percent of all conflicts in the cultivation world were caused by fighting over resources.

For resources, cultivators would betray anything, abandon anything—even kill their own parents and children.

Yet Ye Xuan had only spoken a few casual words, and they had handed over their life's savings willingly. It was utterly baffling.

Ye Xuan slowly opened his eyes.

A piece of firewood collapsed in the campfire, the flames leaping up abruptly, casting his silhouette in flickering light and shadow. In his peach-blossom eyes, something burned quietly.

After a moment, he let out a soft sigh.

"Because they like me."

Wu Lingfeng froze.

She had expected him to say something profound—some deep insight into human nature, some revelation of heavenly secrets. Instead, she got this light, almost dismissive sentence.

"So…" She slowly raised her eyes, her voice carrying a hint of barely suppressed anger, "you exploited their liking."

Ye Xuan turned his head and glanced at her.

"Exploited?"

He chewed on the word, then asked lightly, "In the mortal world, don’t women give gifts to the men they love?"

Wu Lingfeng opened her mouth, momentarily speechless.

Ye Xuan didn’t wait for her answer. He turned back to the campfire, speaking unhurriedly: "When someone likes you, they want to do something for you. That’s their own wish. If I refused, I’d be belittling them—as if I thought they couldn’t even make that decision themselves."

"These women stand at the peak of the cultivation world. They’ve walked through endless years. There’s nothing they haven’t seen, no one they haven’t seen through."

"They give because they want to give. Not because I fooled them, and not because I forced them."

He spoke calmly, without a trace of pride or defensiveness, as if stating the most ordinary fact.

Wu Lingfeng stared at his profile. Something churned in her chest, but she couldn’t pin it down.

She wanted to argue.

But the words died on her lips. Something felt wrong.

She wanted to call him glib, but she remembered the genuine joy in Cold Moon Fairy’s eyes. She remembered Bai Su trembling as she offered that inheritance jade slip, the depths of her gaze holding not just reverence, but a secret, almost grateful light.

Those weren’t the looks of someone who’d been schemed against.

They looked more like… having their wishes fulfilled.

"What I took," Ye Xuan’s voice cut through her tangled thoughts, "was only a small part."

Wu Lingfeng blinked.

"They are all good."

"They all deserve better."

Wu Lingfeng stared at him, stunned. After a long moment, she said quietly, "Then you…"

She stopped mid-sentence.

What she wanted to ask was, then why did you go?

If he knew they deserved more, why did he draw close, take those things, leave a scar in their hearts—and then walk away without looking back?

Wasn’t that also a kind of harm?

Ye Xuan seemed to guess what she was thinking. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile.

"I never lied to them. I never promised them eternity."

"They know it. I know it, too."

"Meetings and partings are just part of the path of cultivation. If, later on, they can look back on these days and find them bearable—that’s enough."

He closed his eyes again and fell silent.

The campfire crackled softly. Ying’er was already asleep nearby, knees tucked up, her little face rosy in the firelight, oblivious to the silent undercurrent that had just passed between the two adults.

Wu Lingfeng sat in silence, staring at the flames, unmoving for a long time.

Then, Ye Xuan tilted his head back to gaze at the star-filled sky, his voice low but clear:

"Resources… just about enough."

"It’s time for me to formally step into the Nascent Soul stage—ah, the Deity Fusion stage."

His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, tapping it once.

Clang!

A clear draconic ring echoed through the night. As the sound faded, the peach-blossom eyes slowly seeped with murderous intent, like ink spreading.

"Once I return to my peak."

"There are some scores…" His lips curled into a faint smile that didn’t touch his eyes, "I need to settle with those unruly crazy women."

"Crazy women."

Those two words—which I’ll translate as—"Madwomen," fell softly on Wu Lingfeng’s ears, but felt like three burning irons pressing hard on her heart.

She knew.

Of course, she knew.

The madwomen Ye Xuan spoke of included that lofty, world-dominating female emperor, Wu Lingxiao.

And also—the one who had imprisoned him for twenty years, gentle on the surface but insane within—herself.