The Real Revenge

“Phew…”

Ye Xuan let out a long breath. His voice softened—softer than it had any right to be—and no longer carried the sharp, biting edge it had the night before.

“Can you tell me… where the Time Dao Ancestor’s temporal dao physique within you actually came from?”

Wu Lingxiao froze.

She was like a traveler bracing herself for a violent storm, only to be met by a gentle breeze.

The fury that had forced her to stand ready to perish alongside him seemed to dissipate by more than half beneath Ye Xuan’s calm question.

She bit her lip, hesitant yet faintly reluctant to let go of the warmth in Ye Xuan’s no-longer-icy expression. In the end, she lowered her head, her voice carrying an unmistakable desolation.

“It was… the Time Dao Ancestor. After the Calamity of the Fallen Immortals, his remnant soul somehow attached itself to me.”

Ye Xuan’s eyes flickered. He nodded thoughtfully.

“I see.”

Wu Lingxiao looked at him, and a terror of indescribable complexity suddenly surfaced in her eyes. She took half a step forward, her voice trembling.

“Ye Xuan… tell me. That legendary Great Demon who caused the Calamity of the Fallen Immortals, brought about the deaths of the gods and Buddhas of the myriad heavens, and plunged all living beings into turmoil for countless ages… was he one of your reincarnations?”

She was afraid.

If that demon who had slaughtered all living beings truly was Ye Xuan, then every betrayal she had committed against him and every scheme she had used against him would become the most terrifying karma, dragging her into a darkness from which she would never escape.

Ye Xuan was momentarily stunned.

Countless fragmented images flashed rapidly through his mind.

But he soon shook his head, his face blank with confusion.

“I don’t know. My memories haven’t fully awakened. Perhaps I was… or perhaps he was simply someone who looked like me.”

Wu Lingxiao gave a self-mocking laugh, the sound steeped in sarcasm.

“Even an aloof Dao Ancestor can unknowingly submit to the effects of [One Conquest, Eternal Conquest]. Ye Xuan, you truly are terrifying.”

She slowly closed her eyes. Two trails of tears slid down her scratched cheeks.

“That ability is like an eternal lock. It locks away my body, and even more so, my soul. Even knowing that you’re a demon… even knowing that you’re using me… I still can’t stop myself from desiring you.”

Ye Xuan gave a cold laugh. It was his habitual mockery, but the instant the words left his lips, his tone sank lower.

“If [One Conquest, Eternal Conquest] were truly that powerful, you wouldn’t have cheated on me twice, would you?”

“Shut up!”

Wu Lingxiao reacted as though he had struck a raw nerve. Her voice turned shrill once more, but it quickly gave way to a bitter, despairing smile.

She looked at Ye Xuan, her eyes hollow with the emptiness of someone who had been shattered.

“Ye Xuan, what exactly do you want? Every day, you dredge up the past. Every day, you use the filthiest words to humiliate me. Isn’t it because you want me to live in guilt, wishing I were dead? Do you… want me to die?”

She opened her arms, her body trembling beneath her imperial robes in the morning breeze.

“Very well. If you truly hate me that much, then do it now. Once I’m dead, [One Conquest, Eternal Conquest] will be undone as well. Perhaps then you won’t hate me anymore. Isn’t that right?”

Ye Xuan looked at her, without the slightest hint of surprise on his face.

He turned around and gazed at the endless expanse of golden roofs and vermilion walls beyond Weiyang Palace. His voice was so calm that it bordered on cruel.

“Your death would be fine by me. I’ll support your ninth sister and put her on the throne. She’s a little immature, perhaps, but at least she’s obedient. She’s far cleaner than you.”

“By then, she and I will rule Great Xia together. As for you, I’ll erect a gravestone for you in the rear hills and have four words carved upon it: the Foolish Ruler of Great Xia.”

“How dare you!”

Wu Lingxiao finally exploded.

In an instant, her earlier despair and sorrow were completely swallowed by a wave of overwhelming jealousy.

She lunged behind Ye Xuan and seized his shoulders, her fingernails nearly digging into his flesh.

The emptiness in her eyes vanished, replaced by a deranged madness that seemed capable of reducing everyone to ashes.

“You want that slut, Wu Lingfeng, to take my place? You want to share the empire with her? Ye Xuan, dream on! Before I die, I’ll kill her first, then take you with me! That way, even after I descend into the underworld, I won’t have to watch you go on tormenting even more women in this world!”

Her aura fluctuated violently. Clearly, she had truly lost her temper.

Yet at that moment, Ye Xuan suddenly turned his head and looked at her murderous expression. The corners of his lips curled into a teasing smile, touched by a trace of the long-lost gentleness that had once belonged to Consort Xuan.

“Look at how worked up you are. I was only joking.”

Wu Lingxiao’s aura abruptly stalled.

She stared at that inscrutable face, at once cold and warm, and the fury in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by a helpless, sorrowful desolation.

“My Consort Xuan… how did you become like this? The old you never fought for anything and never sought to compete, but at least there was still light in your eyes whenever you looked at me.”

At her words, images surfaced in Ye Xuan’s mind of his first life, when he had newly entered the palace—a naïve young man who had believed he could establish himself within the imperial court through love.

He replied with icy sarcasm, every word stained by the blood of memory.

“And the woman who was once my Sister Embroiderer… the woman who personally stitched my black robes and promised to protect me for the rest of my life… why did she become so… promiscuous?”

That cry of “Sister Embroiderer” shattered the final remnant of Wu Lingxiao’s rational defenses.

She said nothing more.

It was as though all the bones had been pulled from her body. She staggered backward several steps.

Her heart… truly hurt.

This pain was not the pain of a blade piercing her flesh. It was the pain of having the wounds torn open bit by bit by the person she had once treasured most, salt rubbed into them, followed by the reminder that she had brought it all upon herself.

Guilt, remorse, madness, unrequited love…

Countless emotions intertwined within Wu Lingxiao’s heart, forming a collapsing mountain.

She watched Ye Xuan’s indifferent back as he walked away. She wanted to call out and stop him, but her throat was filled with the taste of blood, and she could not utter a single word.

She turned and stumbled toward the depths of the inner palace. The black-and-gold imperial robes trailing across the floor no longer possessed their former splendor. Instead, they resembled heavy chains, binding the most powerful—and most pitiful—woman in all of Great Xia.

And Ye Xuan never once looked back.

He knew that this pain would ferment slowly within Wu Lingxiao’s soul like poison.

What he wanted was not merely her body, nor merely her power.

He wanted the woman who had once betrayed him to remain seated upon her lofty throne, her heart scorched by ten thousand flames day after day, suffering the loneliness of an empty bed night after night.

That was true revenge.