First Sight

Bai Ningbing’s fingers traced the faint shadow on the token’s surface, over and over again.

Her fingertips trembled slightly, as if afraid that too much force would crush the image.

She pressed her cheek tightly against the faint shadow, tears blurring her vision—but they could not blur her memory of that silhouette.

This face, the one she had traced in the darkness for so many years, etched into her very bones.

In this closed, empty space, the ordinarily aloof Holy Land Fairy had completely torn off that cold, otherworldly mask.

Her gaze was obsessed, fervent, burning—even tinged with a chilling, sickly quality.

It was more than love; it was a fixation carved into flesh and blood, something impossible to detach.

She greedily kissed Ye Xuan’s shadow on the token, her lips cold, the shadow even colder—cold as a cruel joke.

But she did not care. She only kissed it again and again, her fingers stroking the ethereal shadow, again and again.

“Husband… do you know how I’ve spent these decades?”

“I went into seclusion… I dared not go out, because I was afraid of meeting those who said you were dead. I was afraid I would kill them.”

“Every day, I was in darkness, unwilling to do anything, unwilling to think of anything… I only replayed your face… I only counted the days. I thought I couldn’t hold on much longer…”

“But now I’ve seen you… finally seen you…”

Her gaze suddenly turned blazing and sharp, carrying an possessiveness and madness she herself could not suppress:

“This time, I will never let anyone take you from me again.”

“Whoever stands in my way…” Her voice dropped low, carrying a calm yet bone-chilling resolve: “I will kill them.”

The night deepened.

Heavier clouds swallowed the last few remaining stars in one gulp.

Between heaven and earth, there was only endless darkness and a lonely little flying boat cutting through the night sky.

Ye Xuan remained sitting cross-legged.

The operation of [Devouring Heaven Demon Art] gradually steadied. The vast demonic energy had been worn down by half; what remained in his meridians had submitted, no longer resisting.

He could clearly sense his cultivation base quietly climbing, visible to the naked eye.

He thought tonight would be a peaceful night.

But his [Pristine Dao Body] was acutely sensitive to the surrounding world—so sensitive it was almost cruel.

So, he sensed it.

At that moment, he suddenly opened his eyes.

A presence, blatant, even arrogant, pierced through layer upon layer of clouds, through the defensive arrays on the flying boat, and landed directly on his deck.

“Who?”

Inside the cabin, Wu Lingfeng also jolted awake. Her spear transformed into a streak of light and fell into her hand.

She leaped out, her aura surging, her eyes as sharp as an eagle’s, scanning the deck. Her voice carried a razor-sharp vigilance.

“No need to be tense. Stay inside.”

Ye Xuan’s voice was calm, cold, without a trace of extra emotion.

This kind of uninvited guest was not worth even a change in his expression.

He slowly rose to his feet. His tall silhouette in the darkness was like a divine sword yet to be drawn. His right hand, with a perfectly natural motion, rested on the hilt of the [Sun-Slaying Divine Sword] at his waist. The strand of [Grand Supreme Void Sword Qi] swirling around his fingertips, even unsheathed, already carried a forestalling sword intent that felt capable of slicing through the void.

The defensive arrays on the flying boat, before that descending presence, were like paper barriers, pierced effortlessly—no resistance, no struggle, not even a whisper of sound.

A white figure, like a ghost in the night, drifted down onto the deck of the flying boat.

A night wind suddenly rose, lifting her white veil gently. Behind the veil, faintly visible, was a cold, exquisite face.

Ye Xuan’s gaze fell upon her.

The moment he recognized her face…

“Ugh!”

Ye Xuan’s entire body stiffened violently. In that instant, something invisible struck him. A painful, stifled grunt escaped his throat.

Pain!

It was an indescribable agony.

Not an external wound, not an impact of true essence—it came from the depths of his sea of consciousness.

In a flash, something had been nailed through his temple, deep and cruel, into his brain, then wildly, mercilessly churning…

It was the memory he had lost.

He saw snow falling endlessly.

He saw the sacred, cloud-shrouded high platform of the Nine Heavens Holy Land, towering and cold, like an executioner’s sword suspended in the heavens.

He saw the face before him now— breathtakingly beautiful, cold, exquisite. He had once seen it smile upon him like a blooming flower, brilliant, as if it should never have withered in this world.

Then he saw the same face again, standing high among the clouds, above the clamor of voices shouting “Waste,” “Discard,” “Cripple him,” looking down at him with indifference.

What kind of indifference was that?

True coldness, or…

The barriers of his sea of consciousness trembled once more. A great tearing sensation exploded deep within his skull, shredding even those unfinished images into pieces. The fragments hurtled through his mind, making it impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood.

“Ah!”

Ye Xuan clutched his head with both hands, his eyes blood red in that instant, veins bulging on the backs of his hands.

He clenched his teeth, forcing the scream down, grinding it into silence, though faint groans still seeped through the gaps, carrying a heartbreaking ripple.

And Bai Ningbing, standing on the deck, as soon as she saw Ye Xuan sink into this sudden, uncontrollable agony, felt her heart seized, squeezed tight.

She paid no attention to the terrifying murderous intent that might erupt from him at any moment.

In her eyes, there was only this man.

This man she had yearned for through countless years, now standing before her—real, alive, breathing.

Even if he covered his face, trembling in torment, he was real, living, not the phantom she had traced in the darkness a thousand times.

Forgetting all restraint, forgetting the demeanor of a Saintess, she practically scrambled forward, her whole body shaking with excitement, heartache, and pent-up emotion. Tears overflowed from her eyes.

She reached out her hands, carrying a humble, trembling tenderness, trying to embrace his head, trying to soothe with her palms that pain she could not touch herself:

“Hu… Ye Xuan!”

“What’s wrong? Does your head hurt? Don’t be afraid. I’m here with you.”

Her autumn-water eyes brimmed with humble tears, brimmed with sick, obsessive devotion.

That love ran so deep, it was almost impossible to tell whether it was scorching tenderness or suffocating obsession.

"I knew you were still alive... I just knew it... Heaven has eyes, allowing me to find you..."