The Fat Sheep That Comes Knocking

Wu Lingfeng felt as if struck by lightning. She jerked her head up, her pallid face etched with unprecedented terror and despair.

He... he knows everything?

He knows that for three thousand six hundred days and nights, she had been like a pervert, pressing herself against the icy Dragon-Breaking Stone, listening to them making love inside, listening to them pouring out their hearts to each other?

A cruel smile curved at the corner of Ye Xuan’s mouth:

“Wu Lingfeng, your heartbeat is really too noisy.”

“Even through the ten-thousand-pound Dragon-Breaking Stone, I can clearly hear that heart of yours, stuffed with jealousy, resentment, the urge to rush in and kill... yet afraid to move a muscle.”

“You...” Wu Lingfeng swayed, her lips trembling as if all her strength had been drained: “I... I don’t...”

“Whether you do or not, keep it for yourself to savor.”

Ye Xuan straightened up, instantly reverting to his ethereal, carefree immortal demeanor, as if those words that had flayed a person’s dignity had never left his lips.

He turned around and waved at Ying’er:

“Let’s go, Ying’er.”

“Now that I’ve entered the Refining Void stage, there’s nowhere in this vast world I cannot go.”

Ying’er obediently trotted over to catch up.

But as she passed by Wu Lingfeng, she paused, took out a packet of spirit-fruit dried goods wrapped tightly in lotus leaves from her bosom, and carefully handed it over:

“Um... Young Master Wu, the past ten years have really been tough on you, guarding the door for us. These are dried fruits I made myself. They’re very sweet. Give them a try.”

Ying’er was naive, but not oblivious.

She couldn’t understand the hidden barbs in her husband’s words, but she could truly feel the suffocating grief and brokenness radiating from this cross-dressing young man, Wu.

Wu Lingfeng stared fixedly at the packet of dried fruit, feeling as if she had plunged into an ice cave.

She stiffly raised her head and met Ying’er’s eyes—those eyes without a trace of shadow, pure as the first snow.

In that instant, Wu Lingfeng’s defenses completely collapsed. She finally understood.

She realized why Ye Xuan treasured this utterly unremarkable mortal girl so dearly.

Because she was clean.

From soul to bone and blood, so clean that Wu Lingfeng felt that even looking at her was a torture to herself.

Unlike herself, unlike Wu Lingxiao, their love had long been steeped in the stench of scheming and selfish possession.

“Thank you... Madam.”

Wu Lingfeng extended her trembling hands, accepting that cheap packet of dried fruit as if receiving an imperial edict.

This was the only warmth she had received in this decade of living death.

Yet it came from the rival in love she wished she could hack to pieces.

How absurd. How pathetic.

Ahead, Ye Xuan did not look back. He simply threw down a cold remark:

“Follow along, Wu Nianxuan.”

Wu Lingfeng took a deep breath of the morning chill air, placed the packet of dried fruit with utmost reverence close to her chest, against where her heart beat.

She straightened her body, brushed the dust from her robes, and wiped the defeat from her eyes bit by bit.

She stared at Ye Xuan’s tall, slender back, her gaze gradually shifting from despair to a chilling fanaticism.

No matter how much you trample my dignity.

No matter how many knives you thrust into my heart.

As long as I can still follow behind you...

As long as I can still catch your scent...

“Coming.”

Wu Lingfeng lowered her head and trailed after him obediently. Once again, she faded into the dust, becoming the silent Wu Nianxuan.

The clouds stretched vast, the long wind howled.

Between heaven and earth, a pure white flying boat streaked across the sky like a meteor.

Ye Xuan sat cross-legged at the bow.

The fierce wind whipped his jet-black hair into a wild, billowing frenzy.

His brows were deep, his features chiseled like a sculpture. Now, with half-lidded eyes and a contemplative expression, he seemed to meld seamlessly with the flowing rhythms of the world, exuding an indescribable, effortless Dao resonance.

“Husband, where are we going?”

At the railing, Ying’er leaned on her chin, her big, dark eyes full of curiosity as she watched the mountains and rivers speeding by below.

She wore a light yellow gossamer robe, the hem fluttering in the wind, making her look like a newly hatched bird, brimming with irrepressible liveliness.

Since advancing to the Golden Core True Person realm, her spiritual clarity had greatly improved, and her horizons had broadened. Occasionally, she could even offer insights that surprised others.

But more often, she remained this innocent, blank-slate form, endlessly curious about everything in the world.

Ye Xuan slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was unfathomable, the depths of his pupils seeming to contain slowly rotating galaxies, exuding the serene vastness unique to a Refining Void cultivator.

But the next moment, that solemn aura dissolved, replaced by a meaningful excitement.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he spoke unhurriedly.

“We’re going to the Burial Heaven Abyss.”

“The Burial Heaven Abyss?” Ying’er’s eyes went wide instantly: “That name sounds so dangerous...”

Ye Xuan ignored her exclamation and gazed into the clouds in the distance, his expression focused and deep: “Just now, I sensed an extremely strong spatial fluctuation from that direction, appearing and disappearing like a heartbeat.”

He paused.

“That’s the sign of an ancient relic awakening.”

Ying’er gasped, her eyes sparkling like two stars: “An ancient relic! There must be a lot of good stuff in there, right?”

“Far more than just good stuff.” Ye Xuan licked his lips, a chilling glint flashing in his eyes—the instinctive look of a hunter spotting prey from afar. “Such places are where heaven and earth’s fortune gathers, undispersed for ten thousand years. The serendipitous opportunities within would drive not just ordinary cultivators but even sect sanctuaries mad with desire.”

He lowered his voice slightly, adding a layer of meaning thick with relish:

“Most importantly, once word of this spreads, it will gather the favored sons of heaven from all over, each hoping to claim a share of the spoils.”

Ye Xuan’s eyes gleamed brighter. He spoke slowly, a barely concealed delight in his voice:

“In other words, there will be countless treasure-laden fat sheep...”

“No, I mean, favored sons of heaven, gathering in one place.”

In the corner of the cabin, Wu Lingfeng silently set her tea cup on her knee.

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

She knew Ye Xuan all too well.

What “favored sons of heaven” —in his mind, it was clearly “fat sheep delivered to his doorstep.”

This wasn’t an adventure in pursuit of the Dao; it was opening the doors for business, ready to stock up big time.

Ever since returning to the Refining Void stage, Ye Xuan had awakened like a gluttonous beast from a long hibernation. His foundation, like a bottomless abyss, urgently needed vast resources to fill, and he had always disdained hard work and gradual accumulation.

His preferred method was to find things that didn’t originally belong to him and then make them willingly change hands.

Spirit stones were like that, artifacts were like that, and women were too.