Infinite Spring Scenery

The main hall doors slowly swung shut, completely sealing away the room’s wanton springtime scenes—and Shen Qingshuang’s barely restrained moans.

Standing outside the hall, the innocent, lively smile on Ying’er’s charming face rapidly receded like the tide. In its place was an icy indifference toward all living things, an air of lofty superiority, and even a hint of coldness so terrifying that it made the soul tremble.

Her goose-yellow dress snapped in the wind. Within her seemingly cultivation-less body, a terrifying power lay faintly dormant—power enough to bring the heavens and myriad worlds crashing down.

“Sister Qingshuang has already been sent inside. My husband’s pent-up frustration these past few days should finally be eased a little.”

Ying’er murmured softly, then turned her gaze toward the deepest part of Sword God Palace, toward the gloomy dungeon that had never seen daylight.

“But if I want to make my husband truly happy, I’ll need to find him a suitable little toy.”

The corners of Ying’er’s lips curled into a cruel, playful smile. With the slightest sway of her figure, she transformed into specks of light and ignored the hundreds and thousands of restrictions within Sword God Palace—each one powerful enough to slaughter a cultivator at the Great Ascension Stage—as she descended directly into the blood-soaked, despair-filled dungeon.

“Tap… tap… tap…”

The sound of her light footsteps echoed through the dark, damp passageway.

Ying’er stopped before the first cell.

The cell’s door, forged from mystic ice iron, was like nothing more than an illusion before her. It soundlessly crumbled into dust.

In a shadowy corner, Ye Qingcheng—her vitality drained by Ye Xuan until she resembled a withered old woman—was curled up amid a pool of filthy blood like a dying maggot.

After enduring tens of thousands of years in an endless hell within the reincarnation illusion, her body continued to convulse uncontrollably even now that the illusion had paused. From her throat came hoarse, unpleasant groans like the wheezing of a broken bellows.

Hearing the footsteps, Ye Qingcheng struggled to open her murky, bloodshot old eyes.

When she saw the young girl standing outside the cell, dressed in yellow and radiantly beautiful like a celestial maiden descended from the Ninth Heaven, her frail, battered body suddenly shuddered.

She recognized this girl.

Just a few days earlier, when Lord Ye Xuan had descended upon Sword God Palace, this same girl had obediently followed behind him like the lowliest sword attendant.

At the time, everyone had assumed she was merely a powerless ornament Ye Xuan kept—a songbird in a cage meant to warm his bed.

But now, from Ying’er’s seemingly clear yet bottomless eyes, Ye Qingcheng sensed a terrifying abyss that made even a mighty expert like herself feel her scalp prickle.

“I never imagined… cough, cough… I never imagined that you were the one hiding your true nature the deepest…”

Coughing blood, Ye Qingcheng fixed Ying’er with a stare and spoke in a hoarse, broken voice. Deep within her cloudy eyes, an extremely twisted jealousy and resentment erupted.

“You… you’re not only still untouched—you possess such terrifying strength as well… Just who are you?!”

Ye Qingcheng hated her.

The purity she had once been so proud of, the cultivation that had once placed her high above all others—before this unfathomable girl, they were nothing more than a complete joke.

Yet in the face of Ye Qingcheng’s hysterical jealousy, Ying’er did not show the slightest trace of anger.

Ying'er merely brushed away a speck of dust from the hem of her skirt. An utterly helpless—almost innocent—expression surfaced on her exquisite face as she let out a soft sigh.

“I couldn’t help it. I hid my true strength because I was afraid of frightening my husband.”

Ying’er’s voice was sweet, yet it was like the sharpest blade of ice, piercing straight through Ye Qingcheng’s heart.

“My husband has gone through countless reincarnations and suffered so much. He has seen far too many women like you—women who rely on their cultivation to look down on everyone else, arrogant and untouchable. If I had revealed from the start that I possessed the power to destroy entire realms, he would have felt uncomfortable.”

Tilting her head as she looked at Ye Qingcheng, Ying’er’s eyes were filled with a deep affection that seemed only natural to her.

“As long as I can make my husband feel at ease—make him feel safe—then even if I had to conceal my cultivation, or even disperse all my power and become a mortal, I would gladly do so.”

Upon hearing those words, Ye Qingcheng snapped like a wildcat whose tail had been stepped on.

“Shut up! Shut up!”

Ye Qingcheng glared at her resentfully, her withered hands clawing desperately at the ground. Even as her nails flipped and tore away, she seemed completely unaware of the pain.

In a shriek as harrowing as a vengeful ghost’s wail, she roared:

“I’m the same as you! My body is pure—I have never betrayed my husband!”

“It’s only because of my Nine Yin Mystic Seductive Physique that the inheritance of the Heavenly Desire Sect placed a Great Dao restriction on me, leaving me unable to speak of it! I had my reasons!”

Ye Qingcheng frantically defended herself, trying to salvage even the tiniest shred of pitiful dignity before the girl.

Yet, seeing her crazed refusal to repent, Ying’er merely shook her head with pity.

“If it were me...”

At that moment, Ying’er’s gaze became incomparably resolute and pure.

“I would never have accepted the Heavenly Desire Sect’s inheritance in the first place.”

“You’re lying!”

Ye Qingcheng screamed furiously, her shriveled chest heaving violently.

“You have such terrifying talent and such an exalted background—you were born standing above the clouds! But what about me? I was nothing but an ordinary person, a worthless four-spirit-root failure!”

“This cultivation world is so cruel. I could only do this if I wanted to defy fate and change my destiny! If I hadn’t accepted that inheritance, was I supposed to turn to dust alongside my husband?”

Facing Ye Qingcheng’s furious outburst, Ying’er’s eyes instantly turned cold.

The temperature within the prison plummeted to freezing. A suffocating, terrifying pressure filled the air, forcing Ye Qingcheng’s aged body into the muddy water. Moving even a single finger became an impossible luxury.

Ying’er looked down at her from above, the smile on her lips turning into a chilling sneer.

“Defy fate and change your destiny?”

“And the price was making my husband suffer a fate worse than death, in unimaginable agony? What did his dignity mean to you?”

Ying’er’s voice was not loud, yet it resounded like rolling thunder, exploding through Ye Qingcheng’s mind.

“You keep claiming it was all for your husband, yet you stood by and watched him kneel in the pouring rain for your sake—watched him have his bones broken and his dignity trampled by the vermin you attracted! Your so-called helplessness is nothing more than the most disgusting excuse you could find to satisfy your twisted obsession with immortality and possessiveness!”

“No! That’s not true!”

Ye Qingcheng still cried out in defiance. Tears mingled with blood as they streamed down her aged face, deeply furrowed with wrinkles.

“He was the one being unreasonable! He has no idea how much I sacrificed for him!”

“I bore the scorn of the ages. I swallowed every grievance in silence. I fought desperately to navigate around all those men, all to preserve my chastity for him! Why couldn’t he understand my good intentions?”

“Clap, clap, clap...”

Ying'er gave a light round of applause, her gaze fixed on Ye Qingcheng as though she were the most pitiful clown in the world.

She shook her head, her tone dripping with contempt.

“Stop congratulating yourself.”