The Redemption of Shen Qingshuang

“But, Sister Qingshuang, there is something you must understand.”

The smile on Ying’er’s face gradually faded, and her gaze became utterly serious. There was even an intensely domineering warning in her eyes.

“Now that you’re with my husband, and now that you’ve given him your most precious maidenhood, from this day forward, your life, your body, and your heart must belong wholly and entirely to my husband alone!”

“I don’t care what you went through in the past, and I don’t care how deeply you’re attached to Ye Jiuhuang.”

Ying’er leaned slightly closer to Shen Qingshuang. Her voice was so soft that only the two of them could hear it, yet it exploded in Shen Qingshuang’s mind like thunder from the ninth heaven.

“Although Ye Jiuhuang is a woman—and one of my husband’s women at that—that still doesn’t make it acceptable! There must not be even the slightest trace of anyone else in your heart. Even if that person is a woman, it still won’t do!”

“Your eyes may look only at my husband, and your heart may beat only for him. If I ever discover that you’re lying in my husband’s arms while thinking about how to use him to get revenge on that woman, or if you still harbor even the slightest bit of affection for her…”

A chilling, blood-red gleam flashed through Ying’er’s large eyes.

“I’ll personally rip out your heart and grind it into dust.”

Shen Qingshuang felt as though she had been struck by lightning.

She stared blankly at Ying’er, who was mere inches away. Under that terrifying pressure, her legs nearly gave way, and she almost fell to her knees.

Yet what shook her even more than the fear was the absolute protectiveness toward Ye Xuan contained in Ying’er’s words.

Ying’er withdrew her hand and once again returned to her sweet, innocent appearance, as though the demoness radiating boundless killing intent a moment ago had never been her at all.

“All right, why are you spacing out? Pick up the tray. My husband should be awake by now. Let’s take him his breakfast!”

With that, Ying’er cheerfully picked up the clay pot and skipped out of the kitchen.

Shen Qingshuang remained standing there alone, her heart churning violently in confusion and turmoil.

Did she love Ye Jiuhuang?

Of course she did.

Eight thousand years of time, countless days and nights spent together—that white-robed “Unrivaled Sword Emperor” had long since been carved into her very bones.

But when Ye Xuan had torn apart the cruel truth, when she learned that Ye Jiuhuang had originally been a woman, and when she had personally witnessed that “husband,” who had once rather die than submit, kneeling at Ye Xuan’s feet and begging for mercy like a dog…

The idol in her heart had already collapsed completely.

During this period, she had remained at Ye Xuan’s side day and night as a lowly bedchamber maid.

That man was domineering, cold, and ruthless. He had even trampled her dignity beneath his feet.

And yet, it was also that same man who had given her a sensation belonging to a true woman—something she had never experienced in eight thousand years.

It was the trembling that came from being utterly possessed and forcefully conquered.

Every stormy encounter on the dragon bed, every time Ye Xuan looked down at her with that lofty gaze, and even every time he stroked her long hair as though petting a kitten…

All of it caused her battered heart to develop a strange dependence—one so shameful that even she herself found it difficult to accept.

“Yes… Ye Jiuhuang is a woman. She was never destined to become my true husband.”

Shen Qingshuang lowered her head and looked at her hands, once pale from years of wielding a sword. Now, after being touched by the warmth of everyday life, they had become soft and supple.

Ye Xuan’s handsome yet sinister face surfaced involuntarily in her mind.

Compared to that hypocritical lie, the pain and pleasure Ye Xuan had given her were both so real—real enough to wash away her eight-thousand-year obsession, bit by bit.

What if… what if she truly took her heart back and completely became his woman?

Once that thought took root in her heart, it grew like a weed and could no longer be restrained.

Shen Qingshuang’s gaze gradually grew complicated. In the eyes that had once been twisted by vengeance, there now appeared a hint of tenderness and resolve—something even she herself had not noticed.

“This servant… obeys.”

Shen Qingshuang bowed deeply toward Ying’er’s departing figure. Then she picked up the jade tray and hurried after her.

…

Within the main hall.

Ye Xuan had just finished his morning meditation. The terrifying pressure brought about by devouring the creation of heaven and earth was slowly subsiding back into his body.

He lounged against the Nine-Dragon Frost King Throne, his black-and-gold robes hanging loosely open to reveal a firm, well-proportioned chest.

“Husband, Ying’er made your favorite spirit-fish porridge!”

Her voice arrived before she did.

Accompanied by clear laughter as sweet as silver bells, Ying’er floated into the hall like a cheerful breeze, carrying the clay pot in her hands.

Shen Qingshuang followed behind her, carrying the jade tray with her head lowered and her steps measured.

“Ying’er is still the most considerate.”

When he saw Ying’er, a rare trace of warmth flashed through Ye Xuan’s deep, cold eyes.

He extended his arms and allowed Ying’er to pounce into his embrace like a well-behaved kitten. He then fondly ruffled her soft, silky hair.

In this cultivation world filled with schemes, betrayal, and slaughter, perhaps only when facing Ying’er—who held overwhelming strength yet willingly washed her hands to prepare food for him—could Ye Xuan experience a moment of genuine relaxation and peace.

Ying’er ladled out a bowl of porridge as though presenting a treasure. She gently blew on it with her tender lips, then carefully brought it to Ye Xuan’s mouth.

“Husband, hurry and try it! Ying’er personally watched over the heat today!”

Ye Xuan opened his mouth and drank. The spirit-fish meat, cooked to perfection, melted instantly, transforming into a pure, rich spiritual energy that coursed through his limbs and bones. It not only soothed the agitation caused by his cultivation technique but also carried the warmth of home.

“It tastes excellent. Ying’er’s cooking has improved again.” Ye Xuan did not hesitate to praise her.

Hearing his compliment, Ying’er’s large eyes immediately curved into two beautiful crescents. She was so happy she seemed ready to fly.

“Oh, right, Husband. These pieces of rainbow spirit cake were made by Sister Qingshuang. She got up before dawn to gather the Nine Heavens Profound Dew herself and kneaded it into Hundred-Flower Spiritual Marrow. Her fingers were even reddened by the spiritual flames. Husband, try some of these too!”

Ying’er suddenly turned around and pulled Shen Qingshuang forward, smiling brightly.

Shen Qingshuang raised her head in surprise and looked at Ying’er.

She had merely helped out on the side. Ying’er had completed most of the steps herself, yet she had credited all of it to Shen Qingshuang.

When she met Ye Xuan’s gaze, Shen Qingshuang’s heartbeat instantly skipped. She hurriedly lowered her head, and a blush like the evening clouds spread across her fair cheeks.

“It is… merely this servant’s small offering. I hope Master will not dislike it.” Shen Qingshuang’s voice was as soft as a thread, carrying a bashfulness she herself had not even noticed.

Ye Xuan’s gaze lingered for a moment on Shen Qingshuang’s exquisitely beautiful, cool face. Then a knowing, playful glint surfaced deep within his eyes.

He extended his slender fingers, picked up a piece of spiritual pastry, and placed it in his mouth, chewing it slowly.

“Soft and tender on the tongue, sweet without being cloying. You certainly put some thought into it.” Ye Xuan looked at Shen Qingshuang and said evenly, “Qingshuang, you’ve done well.”

It was only a simple word of praise, yet it struck Shen Qingshuang’s heart like a powerful tonic.

Her eyes, which had always been lifeless and weighed down by despair, suddenly flashed with astonishing brilliance.

She raised her head to look at Ye Xuan, the corners of her eyes faintly reddening over that insignificant bit of affirmation.

Eight thousand years.

She had worked like a beast at Ye Jiuhuang’s side, yet all she had ever received in return were cold nods and distant indifference.

But now, this domineering and heartless man had given her such genuine acknowledgment over nothing more than a pastry.

Shen Qingshuang suddenly felt that what Ying’er had said to her in the kitchen was not a cruel warning at all, but a wake-up call.

Revenge would only leave her trapped in the abyss forever.

Perhaps submitting to the man before her, devoting herself wholeheartedly to pleasing him and loving him, was… the only salvation she could grasp in her miserable life.