Half a True Heart Is Enough

A terrifying divine sense surged into the stone like an invisible tidal wave—vast, overbearing, impossible to defy.

With a single dense tremor, the Questioning Heart Stone let out an extremely faint, sorrowful whimper—as if resisting, and yet also submitting.

The crimson hue that should have required true emotion to provoke suddenly spread as if commanded by some supreme will. It raced wildly from beneath Ye Xuan's fingertips without a trace of hesitation, covering every inch of the stone in an instant.

In the blink of an eye, the entire Questioning Heart Stone turned a deep, blood-red—lustrous like a jade of blood.

The stone was completely full, without a single flaw.

Exactly the same result as Ying'er's just a moment ago.

Ying'er stared at the scene, her whole body frozen in disbelief.

She had imagined that she might see a half-red stone, or a faint glimmer, or perhaps nothing at all.

But she never expected that Ye Xuan's result would also be perfectly full.

"Husband..."

Her voice trembled. Happiness and surprise crashed through all her defenses in an instant, and tears nearly spilled from her eyes.

The next moment, she could no longer hold back. She threw herself directly into Ye Xuan's embrace, holding him tightly, wishing she could melt herself into his very bones and blood.

Ye Xuan held her close, gently patting her back. His tone was unnaturally tender.

"Now do you believe me?"

"Stop crying. If you cry any more, my heart will ache for you."

Ying'er nodded frantically, but the tears would not stop. In this moment, she felt as if she had received the most complete and perfect answer in the entire world.

Ye Xuan lowered his head and soothed her for a long while, until her tears gradually ceased, leaving only an unrestrained joy and dependence written across her face.

The night grew deeper.

Within the Burial Heaven Abyss, blood-mist churned, and faint roars of savage beasts echoed from afar, sending chills down one's spine.

But within this secret cave dwelling carved out in haste, the campfire crackled. The dancing flames cast a warm glow around them, softening the darkness.

Ying'er's emotions had surged too violently today—laughing and crying in turns—and she was already exhausted.

Before long, she drifted into a deep sleep, nestled in Ye Xuan's arms.

Her breathing was steady, her lashes trembling slightly, a sweet smile lingering at the corners of her lips, as if even in her dreams she remained immersed in the happiness of just moments ago.

Ye Xuan looked down at her for a long time.

Only after confirming she was truly sound asleep did he carefully lift her onto the stone bed. He then took a wide cloak and gently laid it over her, afraid that even the slightest trace of the abyss's chill might seep into her.

Only after all this was done did he slowly rise.

And in the moment he turned around, every trace of tenderness on his face receded like the tide.

Only exhaustion remained.

Ye Xuan opened his palm. The Questioning Heart Stone, which moments ago had glowed like blood-red jade, lay there quietly.

He was silent for a moment, then slowly closed his eyes. He began to draw out, bit by bit, the will he had forcibly branded into the stone.

As the suppression faded, the flawless red coating that covered the stone's surface receded like an ebbing tide.

Within a few breaths, the all-pervading crimson had faded by more than half.

Finally, the color came to a stop at the center of the stone, unmoving.

Ye Xuan opened his eyes and looked down.

The entire Questioning Heart Stone was now split into two clearly distinct halves.

One half burned as red as fire—vivid, scorching to the eye, as if warmth still flowed through it.

The other half was gray as death—cold, silent, like an abyss that had buried countless souls.

Half-red.

Half-gray.

It was glaring enough to make one's heart shudder.

Ye Xuan stared at the stone for a long time without speaking.

That half of vivid red was real.

It was his pity for Ying'er—his affection—the one small shred of softness and attachment he was still willing to keep in this blood-soaked world of cultivation.

And the other half of gray was equally real.

It buried all the betrayals, despairs, schemes, and blood debts of his past and present lives. It buried the three years of frozen darkness at the bottom of Burial Immortal Lake. It buried Bai Ningbing's dagger, the slander of his junior sisters, and the cold, condescending gaze of Luo Qingqiu.

It also buried a heart that was already shattered into pieces—a heart that could no longer love anyone completely.

Ye Xuan slowly walked back to the bed and sat down.

The firelight fell upon his profile, shifting between light and shadow, accentuating his handsome yet grim and lonely features.

He looked at the sleeping Ying'er. He raised his hand and gently traced her outline in the air. His voice was low and broken, almost hoarse.

"Ying'er..."

"It's not that I don't love you."

"It's just that the me standing here now... truly cannot give my entire heart to anyone again."

He curled his lips in a self-mocking smile, but there was no trace of amusement in his eyes.

There was a time when he, too, had genuine feelings.

He had once been young and hot-blooded, once valued someone more than his own life.

For Bai Ningbing, he had broken into ancient forbidden lands and stolen life-saving sacred herbs.

For his junior sisters, he had given up resources and shielded them from storms.

For his master, Luo Qingqiu, he willingly became the sharpest sword of the Nine Heavens Holy Land—unrivaled, without a single regret.

But in the end?

Everything he gave with all his heart was repaid by having his immortal bones carved out and bleeding to death—by being condemned by a thousand fingers and branded with shame.

It was three years of darkness without a single ray of light at the bottom of Burial Immortal Lake. It was abandonment by all and despair beyond measure.

His heart had long been shattered through betrayal after betrayal.

Now he was nothing more than a man who had crawled out of hell as an avenger.

Control. Conquest. Revenge. Retribution...

These thoughts had long since filled his bones and blood.

For a man like him to still leave half a crimson heart for Ying'er—that was already the last of his tenderness, and the last remnant of his humanity.

"I'm sorry."

Ye Xuan whispered. His gaze fell upon the Questioning Heart Stone in his palm, his eyes deep and dark as an abyss.

"I lied to you."

"But if you were to see the truth, you foolish girl, you would certainly overthink, cry even harder than just now."

"You couldn't bear such a truth."

Truth is sometimes more wounding than lies.

Especially for a girl like Ying'er—pure of heart, who values love above all else—a half-red, half-gray heart would've torn all her happiness to shreds.

So he would rather deceive her.

Rather than expose the flaw, he would cloak her in a perfect illusion, shielding her within a tender dream.

At least in her eyes, he would remain the one who loved her completely, the one who would never leave her.

Ye Xuan slowly closed his fingers, clutching the Questioning Heart Stone tightly in his palm.

His knuckles whitened.

But his gaze gradually turned icy-cold and resolute.

Half a heart, so what?

Even if he could only give her half of his true heart now, that half was more than enough to shield her from all the storms of this world.

As long as Ying'er could still smile at him, as long as she was still willing to lean on him like this—

Then he would use the other half of his gray, cold, ruthless soul to crush the entire world for her sake.

Whoever dares to harm so much as a single hair on her head—

He would make them wish they were never born: neither able to live, nor able to die.

Within the cave, the firelight gently flickered.

On the stone bed, the young girl slept peacefully, knowing nothing of all this.