What if everything is fake

The Sword God Palace, the abyss beneath the earth.

Endless darkness intertwined with bone-chilling restrictions, transforming this place into a despairing prison that could devour even the faintest trace of light.

Xia Lengyue huddled in a corner.

Once the Cold Moon Fairy, renowned throughout the Three Thousand Dao Provinces, high above all others and worshiped by countless people, she now looked like a stray dog stripped of its backbone.

Her once waterfall-like black hair was caked with grime and cold sweat, hanging in tangled strands against her pale, paper-white cheeks.

The Moon Palace fairy dress she had once cherished and kept immaculate had been reduced to a few strips of torn fabric, barely covering her thin, trembling body.

Her meridians had been completely sealed, and her dantian was as still as a pool of dead water. Bone-piercing cold seeped relentlessly into her marrow, yet she felt none of it.

Her mind replayed the same scene over and over, day after day and night after night: the sky above Soulbreak Cliff drenched in a torrential rain of blood, and that thin figure whose bones had been shattered, yet who had still held her tightly in his arms and shielded her with his life.

“It’s all right… Don’t cry…”

“From now on… you have to… live well…”

Those final whispers, that icy hand of blood that had nevertheless burned her soul with its touch—these were both the only nightmare that had haunted her through the long years and the last fragment of hope that kept her from completely falling apart.

She had always believed that the man named Ye Xuan—the husband she had wounded beyond recognition, yet who had still been willing to die for her—was the only person in this world who had ever loved her sincerely.

She regretted everything. She truly knew she had been wrong. If she could see him just once more, even if she had to kneel before him and let him cut her to pieces, she would willingly accept it, so long as it could win back even the slightest trace of the tenderness he had once shown her.

Just then, a steady rhythm of footsteps echoed from the depths of the shadowy passageway.

As the footsteps drew nearer, the terrifying restrictions surrounding the cell—restrictions powerful enough to suppress even Mahayana cultivators—actually began to vanish and retreat layer by layer, as though they were subjects bowing before their king.

The dull, empty eyes of Xia Lengyue trembled suddenly.

The heavy black-iron cell door groaned against the floor before opening with a thunderous crash.

Blinding light poured in from outside, driving away the darkness within the cell.

Xia Lengyue instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes. Through the gaps between her fingers, she saw a tall, slender figure standing against the light, slowly stepping into the filthy prison like an unreachable god descending from the heavens.

The newcomer wore a black-and-gold robe, its golden threads reflecting a cold gleam in the dim light.

His face was as sharp as if carved by knives and axes. His deep-set eyes were as still as ancient wells. There was no compassion in them, no anger—only an absolute indifference, the kind that looked down upon all living beings as if they were mere ants.

Behind him followed Ying'er, dressed like a pretty young maidservant.

The way Ying'er looked at Xia Lengyue was filled with undisguised contempt and disgust.

The instant she recognized his face, Xia Lengyue's entire body began to tremble violently.

“Ye… Ye Xuan…”

Her lips quivered uncontrollably. In the next moment, floods of hot tears welled up in her eyes and washed the grime from her cheeks.

Almost like a dignityless beggar, she scrambled forward on her hands and knees, frantically crawling across the freezing floor.

The rough black ice sliced open her palms and knees, leaving behind a glaring trail of blood, but she felt no pain at all.

She crawled to Ye Xuan's feet. She wanted to reach out and touch the hem of his black-and-gold robe, but her hand stopped in midair.

She was afraid that her filthy hands would soil the noble man before her, who seemed as exalted as a god.

In the end, she could only press her head fiercely against the hard floor. Blood immediately seeped from her forehead.

“Husband… Husband, I know I was wrong… Yue'er truly knows she was wrong…”

Xia Lengyue sobbed uncontrollably, her voice raw and broken. “I was wrong in the past. I was blind. I shouldn’t have despised you, and I shouldn’t have hurt you like that… Wuwu…”

Her tears mingled with the blood from her forehead, gathering into a murky pool beneath Ye Xuan's feet.

“Please… please forgive me, all right? I don’t want anything anymore. I don’t want the Great Dao or eternal life. I only want to return to the past, to the days we spent together in the mortal world… You can hit me or curse me, anything you want. As long as you become the man you used to be, as long as you can still look at me…”

She wept as though her heart were being torn apart, every word soaked in blood and tears.

If it had been any other man in the world, seeing the once-proud and untouchable Cold Moon Fairy reduced to such a lowly state would likely have stirred some trace of pity within him.

Yet Ye Xuan merely looked down at her in silence.

He neither stepped back nor kicked her away. Not even the slightest ripple of emotion appeared in his eyes in response to her anguished cries.

After a long while, he gently shook his head. The corners of his lips curved into an icy, almost chilling smile.

“Xia Lengyue.”

Ye Xuan's voice was utterly calm. There was no anger in it, only a terrifying rationality and indifference.

“You’ve been clinging to life in this place where neither sun nor light can reach, day after day, always hoping that I would forgive you, always wishing that I could become the man I used to be in your memories…”

Ye Xuan paused briefly, a cold scrutiny emerging in his eyes.

“Why is that?”

Xia Lengyue abruptly lifted her head. Her face, streaked with tears and blood, was filled with despair and pleading.

“Because you love me! I finally understand! In this world, you’re the only one who ever treated me sincerely. You were the only one willing to give up your life for me! I was wrong before! I shouldn’t have hurt you. I was the one who destroyed everything we had!”

She tried to throw her arms around Ye Xuan's leg, but Ying'er let out a cold snort. An invisible force instantly sent her staggering half a step away.

Xia Lengyue collapsed onto the floor, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

Looking at her grief-stricken face, Ye Xuan shook his head once more. There was not the slightest trace of emotion in his expression. Instead, a deep contempt and mockery surfaced within it.

“You keep longing for my forgiveness, always fantasizing about that perfect husband who once obeyed your every command, a man who was willing to cast aside even his dignity—and his life—for you.”

Ye Xuan slowly paced through the cell, his black-and-gold robe swaying faintly in the cold wind.

“But Xia Lengyue, have you ever seriously considered one question?”

Xia Lengyue stared blankly at him, even forgetting to cry for the moment.

Ye Xuan stopped and looked down at her, forcing her to meet his eyes. Then, word by word, he said:

“Is it possible that the perfect husband you imagined—the man who loved you until death, without the slightest hesitation… never existed in the first place?”

Xia Lengyue froze as though struck by lightning.

Her pupils contracted violently, and her breathing stopped.

“No… What are you talking about…” She instinctively rejected his words, shaking her head frantically. “No, he existed! You took a sword meant for me. You brewed medicine for me. On Soulbreak Cliff, you…”