Everything Is Retaliation

Hearing Ying’er’s suggestion, the disgust in Ye Xuan’s eyes paused for the briefest moment.

He looked at Ye Qingcheng, who was trembling violently on the floor. The memory of the woman’s once-superior, hypocritical expression surfaced in his mind, along with the endless humiliation he had suffered in that previous life.

Gradually, a cold smile curled at the corners of Ye Xuan’s lips.

“If that’s the case, then so be it.”

Ye Xuan slowly straightened his body, a cruel gleam flickering in his eyes. “She bears the curse of ‘Love of Qingcheng,’ which makes her practically immortal. Using her as a punching bag—or as a human shield to take blows for me—couldn’t be more convenient.”

Ye Qingcheng’s delicate body shuddered violently at those words.

“Practically immortal.” “Human shield.”

Those cold, merciless words completely defined her current position.

She was now worth less than even a lowly concubine. She had become nothing more than an inanimate object that could be discarded or damaged at any time.

Seeing that Ye Xuan had agreed, Ying’er immediately clapped her hands excitedly and said with a giggle, “Then Ying’er won’t disturb your rest, husband!”

With that, Ying’er withdrew from the sleeping quarters like a nimble butterfly, her steps light and jaunty as she shut the palace doors firmly behind her.

As the doors closed, only Ye Xuan and Ye Qingcheng, kneeling on the floor, remained inside the Tai’a side hall.

For the next several days, Ye Xuan did not leave the palace.

Five days later.

Outside the main hall of Tai’a Palace, the white jade plaza basked in bright sunlight, its air filled with swirling spiritual energy.

With a deep rumble, the massive palace doors slowly opened to either side.

Dressed in a black-and-gold dragon-patterned robe and wearing a purple-gold crown, Ye Xuan emerged from the hall looking refreshed and invigorated.

The terrifying pressure of a mid-stage Body Integration cultivator remained concealed within him, yet it still left the elite guards of the Sword God Palace standing on either side of the plaza feeling as though they could barely breathe.

Behind him was none other than Ye Qingcheng.

The elders and guards gathered nearby were all dumbstruck. Though none dared to speak aloud, faint transmissions and hushed whispers still erupted throughout the crowd.

“Th-That’s the Supreme Grand Elder of the Hehuan Sect!” exclaimed an elder of the Sword God Palace who had once witnessed Ye Qingcheng’s beauty, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets.

“How did she become like this? She was a supreme powerhouse of the demonic path…”

“She doesn’t look like a mighty cultivator anymore…”

If this had happened to Ye Qingcheng in the past, she would have considered the whispers a supreme humiliation.

But now, she seemed not to hear them at all.

Her diseased obsession had been twisted into something horrifying.

She even felt that as long as she could remain behind Ye Xuan—as long as she could continue gazing at his back—it would still be ten thousand times better than being thrown back into that endless hell where he did not exist.

Ye Xuan stood with his hands behind his back, utterly indifferent to the murmurs around him.

Just then, a graceful figure dressed in white approached leisurely from the corridor.

It was Shen Qingshuang.

Today, she wore an exceptionally plain and gentle palace dress. Though it was far less luxurious than what she had worn when she was the palace master’s wife, it gave her an even more alluring and docile air, as though she had been thoroughly nourished.

The moment Shen Qingshuang drew near, she saw Ye Qingcheng kneeling at Ye Xuan’s feet.

She glanced at Ye Qingcheng, a complicated emotion and a trace of unease flickering in her eyes.

As a woman who had once stood at the pinnacle herself, Shen Qingshuang felt more than just fear of Ye Xuan’s methods when she saw Ye Qingcheng reduced to this state. She also felt a deep sense of relief—relief that she had made the right choice.

She walked to Ye Xuan’s side and gave him a slight curtsy before looking at him helplessly.

“Husband, was this really necessary?”

Although she did not pity Ye Qingcheng, parading a once-renowned grand cultivator around like a dog in full view of the public was simply too shocking.

At the sound of Shen Qingshuang’s voice, Ye Xuan turned his head slightly, the corners of his lips curling into an eerie smile.

“She brought this upon herself.”

Ye Qingcheng nodded earnestly. “That’s right. I made a mistake, so accepting my husband’s punishment is only right and proper.”

The instant those words left her mouth, the temperature in the air abruptly plummeted to freezing point.

The playful look that had lingered on Ye Xuan’s face vanished in an instant. The moment he heard the words “my husband,” his expression changed completely.

An overwhelming murderous intent and savage fury exploded from Ye Xuan’s body like a tangible force, instantly draining the air within a hundred yards of all warmth.

“Who allowed you to call me that?”

His gaze was as cold as if he were looking at a corpse, and his voice carried an absolute will that permitted no refusal.

“Slap yourself.”

Feeling that terrifying killing intent, Ye Qingcheng’s entire body trembled violently.

“Yes!”

Without the slightest hesitation, Ye Qingcheng straightened her upper body, raised her bloodstained hands, and slapped her own exquisite cheeks with all her strength.

“Smack!”

“Smack!”

“Smack!”

The crisp yet heavy sound of slaps echoed across the silent white jade plaza.

Ye Qingcheng did not use any spiritual energy to protect herself. She beat herself with nothing but the raw strength of her physical body.

After only a few blows, the face that had once been beautiful enough to topple kingdoms was already swollen high, the corners of her mouth split open, and blood dripping from her chin onto the pristine jade tiles.

Shen Qingshuang was horrified by the sight.

Her face went deathly pale, and her delicate body trembled uncontrollably.

She had thought she already understood the extent of Ye Xuan’s cruelty. Yet when she saw Ye Qingcheng’s miserable state—her personality completely stripped away, her very soul reduced to that of a slave—she still felt a chill that rose from the depths of her spirit.

Noticing the fear of the woman beside him, Ye Xuan withdrew his icy gaze from Ye Qingcheng and turned around.

Instead, he pulled Shen Qingshuang into his arms.

His powerful arm wrapped tightly around her slender waist, pressing her firmly against his broad chest. His voice regained its characteristic depth and gentleness.

“Don’t be afraid. You’re different from her.”

That one simple sentence was like a warm current, instantly breaking through the final barrier guarding Shen Qingshuang’s heart.