Prelude to the Battlefield of Carnage

Time flowed on. Within the side hall of the Weiyang Palace, the passage of years had long lost all meaning beneath the frenzied acceleration of the power of time.

Spiritual energy misted through the hall, so dense it seemed on the verge of condensing into droplets.

Ye Xuan sat cross-legged at the center of a spiritual pool, his body shrouded in a radiant starlight and enigmatic gray-white laws. His breathing was long and profound; with every inhalation and exhalation, the surrounding space trembled faintly.

He was attempting to break through to the Integration Realm.

“This Time Dao Body truly is the greatest cheat artifact in all the heavens and myriad worlds…”

Ye Xuan sighed inwardly.

Only a few days had passed in the outside world, yet within this time barrier, he had already lived through an unknown number of days and nights.

The spiritual foundation that would ordinarily require centuries of painstaking accumulation, and the laws of heaven and earth that would take centuries to comprehend, had been brutally compressed to the utmost limit by this domineering acceleration of time.

He could clearly feel his Nascent Soul and physical body undergoing an arcane fusion. It was the sign of entering the Integration Realm.

Yet the Integration Realm was, after all, a chasm on the immortal path.

The perfect union of flesh and soul required not only an immense amount of spiritual power, but also a flawless state of mind.

Having cultivated anew in this life, Ye Xuan’s state of mind was originally without flaw. But his cultivation had risen far too quickly, leaving a subtle sluggishness between his body and soul. Helplessly, he found himself stuck at the threshold of the Integration Realm—unable to advance or retreat, an intensely frustrating state.

Just as Ye Xuan frowned slightly, preparing to suspend his attempt and calm the turbulent spiritual power within him, a faint fragrance, delicate as orchids and musk, drifted into his nostrils.

He did not need to open his eyes to know who had arrived.

“Husband, cultivation must have been exhausting.”

Wu Lingxiao’s voice was so soft and seductive it seemed ready to drip with sweetness.

Over the past few years, she had shed the majesty of an empress and truly treated herself as a humble, attentive concubine.

Ye Xuan slowly opened his gray-white eyes.

Wu Lingxiao had clearly gone to great lengths with her attire today.

Rather than her customary black-and-gold imperial robes, she wore an exceedingly thin, nearly transparent gown of moon-white silk.

The fabric was light as nothing, clinging closely to her flawless, voluptuous, mature body—a body honed by eight hundred years of time, yet still breathtakingly alluring.

Its neckline plunged low, revealing broad expanses of smooth, snowy skin gleaming enticingly beneath the palace lanterns. The deep curve of her cleavage appeared and disappeared from view.

Barefoot, she stepped across the soft spirit-jade floor. As she swayed forward, the slit in her dress exposed long, jade-white legs, dazzling to the eye.

Holding a cup of warm spiritual tea, she knelt beside Ye Xuan’s couch. She deliberately leaned forward slightly, and her fragrance became even more intoxicating.

Her gaze was languid and lingering, filled with undisguised desire and suggestion. Her red lips parted as she said, “Since Husband has encountered a bottleneck, why not… rest for a while? A-Xiao has recently learned a dual-cultivation technique for relaxing the channels and guiding vital energy. Perhaps it could help Husband break through that final trace of stagnation…”

As she spoke, her soft, boneless hand tentatively covered Ye Xuan’s knee, trembling slightly as it tried to slip upward beneath the hem of his robe.

Ye Xuan’s expression did not change in the slightest, as though he were looking at a block of wood.

He did not even use spiritual power. He merely extended two fingers, caught Wu Lingxiao by the wrist, and moved her hand away from his leg without the least mercy.

“There is no need. I do not need to rely on harvesting yin to break through such a minor bottleneck.”

Ye Xuan rejected her without fanfare, his tone so indifferent that it held not a trace of warmth.

Wu Lingxiao’s hand froze in midair.

The ingratiating smile on her beautiful face instantly stiffened, then faded with visible speed into coldness.

Three years of suppressed grievance, pain, and the humiliation of having her pride trampled again and again were utterly ignited by Ye Xuan’s unconcealed rejection.

“You…” Wu Lingxiao bit down hard on her lower lip until crimson blood seeped out.

She abruptly rose to her feet, her voice shaking violently with boundless fury and despair. “Do you still think I’m filthy?”

Ye Xuan looked at her without speaking. Yet the tacit admission in those gray-white eyes wounded her more deeply than any words could have.

“Fine… Fine! Excellent!”

Wu Lingxiao finally exploded!

Her dark hair whipped wildly behind her as the terrifying pressure of a peak Mahayana cultivator instantly flooded the entire side hall. The jade tables and palace lamps around them turned to dust in an instant. In her eyes burned a madness so chilling it seemed capable of destroying heaven and earth.

“If that is the case, then die with me! Let us perish together right now! Let us die and reincarnate together! Burn this body clean, reshape ourselves in the next life—then neither of us will be filthy! Neither of us will have the right to disdain the other!”

With that, the Time Dao Mark between her brows flashed madly. She actually began reversing her true essence, clearly intending to self-destruct her soul and drag Ye Xuan down to the underworld with her.

This madwoman again.

Ye Xuan’s heart skipped a beat. He was only one step away from the Integration Realm; he absolutely could not perish together with a peak Mahayana madwoman at such a crucial moment.

Trying to placate her, he lowered his voice. “Calm down. I simply need to stabilize my foundation for now…”

“Stop using cultivation as an excuse to deceive me!”

Wu Lingxiao’s eyes blazed with rage, and two streams of bloody tears ran down her cheeks.

Pointing at Ye Xuan’s nose, she roared hoarsely, “Ye Xuan, do you really think my heart is made of iron? Yes! I wronged you in the past; I deserve ten thousand deaths! But what about now? Now you have countless beautiful women at your side—Bai Qianqiu, and that so-called Sword Sovereign! And what do I have?”

She violently tore open the ribbons at her collar, exposing a wide expanse of snowy skin as she cried out in a heart-rending voice, “For these eight hundred years, I have kept myself chaste for you! I never let any man touch so much as a finger of mine! Every day, I have lived in the abyss of guilt. I was even willing to lower myself and serve you as a maid! Even if you do not care for me, you should at least take pity on all that I have done for you!”

Her accusation, soaked in blood and tears, echoed through the empty side hall. An empress who had once stood high above all others was now humble and crazed, like a beggar pleading for alms.

Seeing her as though she were ready to devour him alive, Ye Xuan sighed helplessly.

“Enough. Stop making a scene.” Rubbing his brow, Ye Xuan dangled a lure before her. “Once I break through to the Integration Realm, I will share a bed with you.”

“Y-you truly mean it?” Wu Lingxiao’s voice trembled.

“I have no reason to lie about something like this,” Ye Xuan replied blandly.

Wu Lingxiao took a deep breath and pulled her torn moon-white gown back into place. Her eyes turned cold and obsessive once more—the ruthless look of a gambler who had staked everything on a single bet.

“Fine, Ye Xuan. Do not lie to me this time. If you dare break your word again, I swear: I will forsake Great Xia, forsake all the people of this world, and drag you down with me into complete annihilation!”

After giving Ye Xuan one long, deep look, she turned and left the side hall.

She needed to prepare. She would bathe in the finest spiritual elixirs in the world. She would greet that moment in her most perfect state.

Once the doors of the hall had fully closed and Wu Lingxiao’s presence had faded into the distance—

Ye Xuan’s helpless expression vanished in an instant, replaced by utter coldness and resolve.

“Whoosh!”

His figure disappeared from where he stood. In the next moment, he passed straight through layers of formations and arrived at a secluded pavilion deep within the imperial garden.

Ying'er was sitting leisurely beside a stone table, idly playing with a fiery red spirit bird in her hand.

“I don’t care how you do it.”

The moment Ye Xuan appeared, he skipped all pleasantries and went straight to the point. “Notify Zi Yao, Xia Lengyue, Ye Qingcheng, and the others immediately. Tell them to come save me as fast as possible.”

He paused, an unusual urgency creeping into his voice. “If they don’t get here soon, I’m really going to lose my virtue.”

Ying'er looked up. A profoundly innocent and puzzled expression appeared on her sweet, harmless face.

Blinking, she smiled unconcernedly. “Husband, the Empress of Great Xia is devastatingly beautiful, and she’s completely devoted to you. Since she wants you so badly, why not just sleep with her? At worst, treat it as dual cultivation. You won’t be the one losing out.”

“I have no interest in stirring that pot.”

Ye Xuan’s expression remained indifferent. As he spoke those words, undisguised disgust filled his eyes. “That woman is rotten to the core in my eyes. Just touching her would disgust me for half a month. Hurry up.”

Seeing how resolute Ye Xuan was, Ying'er could only shrug helplessly. “All right. Who asked me to be my husband’s thoughtful little maid?”

She lightly tapped a finger, and a drop of essence blood fell onto the forehead of the fiery red spirit bird in her hand.

“Go. Spread Husband’s coordinates to the Heavenly Demon Sect, the Hehuan Sect, and the Cold Moon Demon Sect,” Ying'er said softly.

The flame bird spread its wings and shot into the air, transforming into a streak of fiery light that pierced through the void and vanished beyond the horizon.