Night Shadow and Wu Lingxiao

“Husband... he just left like that?” Ying’er couldn’t help asking.

“He left.”

Ye Xuan gazed into the distance, his eyes thoughtful. After a long silence, he sighed softly, a trace of helplessness flickering in his gaze: “Pity. He’s too powerful. I couldn’t kill him.”

Ying’er was stunned, blurting out: “You wanted to kill him?”

“Yes. Even though I spouted all those grand truths, in the end it’s just because I’m no match for him.”

Ye Xuan sighed again, looking at Ying’er with helpless eyes: “The only reason I was so magnanimous is because I couldn’t beat him. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been so much nonsense.”

He turned to Ying'er, a cold, merciless clarity in his eyes: "Remember, in the cultivation world, reasoning is useless. Only strength matters."

Wu Lingfeng stood frozen, long silent. Only when the lingering fear slowly faded did she belatedly withdraw her spear, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly: “So... all that talk about seeing through the mortal world, cause and effect, and heart of the Dao...”

“All of it was just to fool him.”

Ye Xuan shrugged without a hint of shame, poured himself another cup of wine, and chuckled: “Yeh You is inherently obsessive. He reached the Mahayana stage while being hunted by the Great Xia Immortal Dynasty, relying entirely on his jealousy of me and his twisted desire to conquer the Empress.”

“If I had shown anger, humiliation, or even the slightest concern, he would have been immensely satisfied and grabbed us without hesitation.”

“The only way to deal with someone that obsessive,”

Ye Xuan tapped his own head, “is to completely negate his eight-hundred-year obsession. Tell him: everything you’ve done is just a joke in my eyes. Only that can shatter his heart of Dao and plunge him into self doubt.”

Ying’er listened, mouth agape: “Then... he’s probably going to...”

“Naturally, to cause some trouble for the Empress of Great Xia.”

Ye Xuan’s eyes turned ice-cold: “Though Yeh You is at Mahayana, the Great Xia imperial city has a nation-guarding celestial formation. The Empress, in her years of searching for me, has pushed her cultivation to unfathomable depths. Yeh You going there is certain death. But a Mahayana-stage demon cultivator’s death throes will be enough to shake the Great Xia Dynasty severely.”

Using a borrowed knife to kill, attacking the mind first.

Wu Lingfeng drew a deep breath, looking at this man before her, whose cultivation was merely at the Spirit Severing stage. A wave of indescribable dread surged in her heart.

She finally understood: his terror never came from the depth of his cultivation, but from his penetrating insight into the human heart, and his chilling, masterful rationality.

“Alright, that little interlude is over. Let’s keep moving.”

Ye Xuan stood up, casually spilling the remaining wine in his cup into the sea of clouds, and gazed at the distant horizon.

Weiyang Palace, Great Xia Immortal Dynasty

Once a holy land that hosted countless envoys from myriad kingdoms, it was now as silent as a tomb.

Deep in the hall, the light was dim.

Wu Lingxiao reclined sideways on a dragon throne carved from nine-abyss immortal ice, her posture so lazy it bordered on disrespectful.

Her eyes were vacant, staring at the void above, lost in thought.

“Any news yet?”

Below, Ying Sha, the leader of the shadow guards, knelt with his forehead pressed against the cold stone floor, trembling: “Reporting... to Your Majesty. An urgent report from the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion in Youzhou says the Ninth Lord vanished into the void with Ye Xuan. But midway, a terrifying, unknowable force obscured the heavenly secrets. Your subordinate... lost track.”

Silence.

Wu Lingxiao didn’t rage, didn’t smash anything.

She merely sat up slowly, lifting her eyelids with casual indifference.

“Lost track.”

She repeated those two words, her tone devoid of any ripple.

Then, she raised her hand with studied nonchalance, her fingers curling slightly.

No ripple of spiritual energy. No omen.

Crack.

Ying Sha, a Nascent Soul stage cultivator, twisted silently into an impossible angle, instantly becoming a cloud of blood mist. He didn’t even have time to scream.

Wu Lingxiao flicked her sleeve lightly, as if swatting away a fly.

“Replace them with a new team.”

She reclined back onto the dragon throne, her voice still calm: “If you can’t find him, execute everyone from the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion in Youzhou.”

“Yes.”

The remaining shadow guards in the hall kowtowed in unison, not daring to speak.

In that dead silence...

a thunderous roar from primordial antiquity shattered all the glazed tiles of Weiyang Palace.

The entire imperial city shook violently.

The city’s protective formation, said to withstand even a true immortal’s attack, was torn open from the outside, a tens of thousands-yard long rift.

Rolling demonic energy surged in, swallowing the sky, eclipsing the sun and moon. It wasn’t murky filth, but a pure, ultimate black, as if trying to annihilate all light in the world.

A proud yet sorrowful voice pierced the void, resounding in the souls of every citizen of Great Xia:

“Wu Lingxiao! An old friend visits—why not come out and meet me!”

In the hall, everyone held their breath.

Wu Lingxiao merely tilted her head slightly.

She recognized that voice.

Of course she did.

A faint smile curled at the corner of her lips, but the emotion didn’t reach her eyes—it lay thin on her lips, carrying an indescribable... air of nonchalance.

“So it’s Yeh You,”

she murmured to herself, her expression indifferent.

Clang!

The nation-guarding divine artifact, Tai’e Sword, unsheathed itself, golden light soaring to the heavens.

Wu Lingxiao transformed into a streak of golden radiance, bursting through the palace roof, rising straight to the nine heavens.

Above the nine heavens, the astral winds howled fiercely.

Yeh You stood in the void, his black robe fluttering.

The pressure of the Mahayana stage spread silently, pressing down on the million cultivators in the imperial city, causing their blood to roil and forcing them to kneel.

He stood with his hands behind his back, black lotus flowers flickering around him. The mark of demonic fall on his brow was eerily beautiful. His peach blossom eyes held compassion, a hint of liberation, and a sense of finality that spanned the long years.

He watched the golden figure rise.

He looked at that still-enchanting face.

Wu Lingxiao halted three zhang away, gazing down at him as if examining a decorative object long on display and now devoid of novelty.

“Mahayana stage,”

she said, her tone flat, tinged with a critical note: “I didn’t expect your demonization to bring you some improvement, after all.”

Yeh You stared at her, a complex surge of emotions welling in his chest.

“Wu Lingxiao,” he said in a low voice, “I am not here to fight you today.”

“I know.” Wu Lingxiao’s eyelids drooped dismissively: “If you wanted to fight, you wouldn’t have breached the array so openly to visit.”

She paused, her fingers absently resting on the hilt of Tai’e Sword, her voice still calm:

“You’ve come because of him?”

Yeh You locked eyes with her, speaking each word deliberately:

“I met Ye Xuan on the way here.”

The air fell silent for a moment.

Wu Lingxiao did not lose composure, did not tremble, nor did she exult.

She merely lifted her eyes slightly, fixed them on Yeh You, and studied him quietly for a moment.

“Is he well?”

This wasn’t a question. It was... a habitual confirmation.

Yeh You watched her like this, a feeling in his heart more bitter than sorrow itself.

He took a deep breath.

"Wu Lingxiao, Ye Xuan said you've been suppressing yourself for too long."

"He said you've never placed him on equal footing with yourself."

"He said that at your core, you are an extremely selfish person."

"Even if I, Yeh You, hadn't come along, there would be some other Li You or Zhang You."

"He believes your betrayal was inevitable."

He spoke each word like a knife.

Yeh You waited for her to break down, waited for her to be torn apart with grief, waited for any crack to appear on that beautiful face.

But.

Wu Lingxiao simply listened quietly.

Her expression did not change.

After a long moment, she raised her head and looked at Yeh You, her eyes devoid of anger, pain, or even a ripple.

Only a calm that sent chills down the spine.

"Are you done?"

Yeh You froze for a moment, staring at Wu Lingxiao in utter disbelief.

Everyone in the world knew that Wu Lingxiao loved Ye Xuan obsessively. So why was she like this now?

Wu Lingxiao let out a soft sigh, as if she had finally lost the last shred of interest in something.

"Yeh You, I once thought you were at least somewhat interesting."

"But today, you traveled thousands of miles, broke through my formations, just to deliver these words for him?"