Walking Right into the Trap

At the thought of this, Chu Jinghong slowly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the turmoil and hesitation in her heart had already been forcibly suppressed.

In their place was a colder, harsher, and more resolute will.

She raised her foot and slowly walked out of the sleeping palace.

Outside, in the plaza, Lin Jiutian was struggling to climb out of the crater. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his black robes were torn, and he looked utterly wretched.

But he had not left.

He merely raised his head and gazed at Chu Jinghong from afar.

Chu Jinghong stood atop the lofty jade steps, her long dress billowing in the wind as imperial might surged around her. She was beautiful, like a nightmare that permitted no desecration.

She looked down at him coldly, her voice as icy as frost.

“Go back and tell the Nine Heavens Holy Land.”

“His Majesty agrees to the cooperation.”

“But don’t even think about scheming against His Majesty.”

“Ye Xuan is His Majesty’s bottom line.”

“If anyone dares harbor the slightest ulterior motive regarding this matter…”

She slowly raised her hand. A golden imperial mark flashed across her fingertips, radiating a terrifying aura capable of suppressing mountains and rivers and annihilating all laws.

“His Majesty will destroy them first.”

Lin Jiutian looked at her and suddenly laughed.

There was no delight or anger in his laughter. Instead, it carried an indescribable weariness.

“Chu Jinghong.”

“You really haven’t changed at all.”

“High and mighty. Arrogant.”

“You always think everyone should revolve around you.”

“You always think that even if you were wrong, the moment you turned back, that person would still be waiting in the same place.”

“Unfortunately…”

He paused, and the smile on his lips gradually turned mocking.

“You may not get your way this time.”

Chu Jinghong stared at him coldly. “Get lost.”

Lin Jiutian said nothing more.

He merely gave her one long, deep look, as though gazing at a woman he had once loved and once hated—yet who, in the end, had left him with nothing but weariness.

Then he turned around and began walking away step by step, dragging his battered, dying body from the Imperial Palace.

The wind lifted his black robes.

His back looked as desolate as a dying candle about to be extinguished.

But Chu Jinghong did not even want to spare him another glance.

She simply stood at the highest point, gazing toward the distant horizon. Deep in her phoenix eyes, dark currents surged, so intense they made one’s heart tremble.

The Nine Heavens Holy Land had already entered the fray.

Then the Sword God Palace’s wedding was destined to be anything but peaceful.

But she did not care.

In fact, this was exactly what she wanted.

Only when everything descended into chaos would she have a chance, amid the storm destined to sweep across the Nine Heavens and Ten Lands, to snatch Ye Xuan back from Ye Jiuhuang’s side.

“My husband…”

Chu Jinghong raised a hand and gently pressed it against her chest, as though soothing the heart that was beating faster and faster from jealousy and obsession.

She let out a quiet laugh.

The sound was soft, yet it carried a madness that sent chills through one’s bones.

“Wait a little longer.”

“This time, His Majesty will never let go again.”

“Anyone who stands between us will be killed.”

“Whether it is Ye Jiuhuang, the Sword God Palace, or even the entire Nine Heavens and Ten Lands…”

She slowly lifted her head, her eyes filled with the extreme possessiveness of an emperor.

“None of you will ever take you away from His Majesty again.”

The night wind swept past.

Above the Imperial Palace, dragon aura churned, and killing intent began to rise.

The various factions had already begun making their moves.

Chu Jinghong, the Nine Heavens Holy Land, the Boundless Demon Sect, those old figures who had yet to truly reveal themselves, new enemies, mad women, schemes within schemes, plots within plots…

All of them would appear one after another before the wedding.

And Ye Xuan was still cultivating quietly within the Sword God Palace.

He did not yet know.

He did not know how many desires, resentments, obsessions, and madness that had lain buried for tens of thousands of years this invitation had dragged into the light.

Or perhaps—

He had known all along.

And was merely waiting for them to throw themselves into the trap, one after another.

Inside the Sword God Palace, red silk hung everywhere, while spiritual light soared into the heavens.

With the wedding that would shock the Nine Heavens and Ten Lands drawing ever nearer, the entire palace was immersed in an atmosphere of bustling celebration and solemn joy.

Along both sides of the long jade-paved stairway, immortal birds danced and spiritual springs surged into the air. Everywhere, astonishing formations and rare heavenly treasures had been arranged to welcome the various great Dao traditions that would come to witness the ceremony.

Ye Xuan walked through the depths of the splendid Sword God Palace with Ying’er at his side, his hands clasped behind his back.

His expression was indifferent, as though all the commotion around him had nothing to do with him. Only when he looked at the obedient Ying’er walking beside him did a trace of imperceptible warmth flicker deep within his dark eyes.

However, this rare tranquility was soon shattered by an extremely discordant sound of approaching footsteps.

At the end of the corridor, the figure of a woman slowly emerged.

It was Ye Qingcheng.

She no longer possessed the lofty, world-bewitching bearing she had once carried.

Her eyes, which had once always shimmered with seduction and calculation, were now filled with bloodshot veins and profound fear. Her clothes were neat, yet they could not conceal the humility and despair radiating from deep within her.

She looked at Ye Xuan as though he were the only lifeline remaining in her life, then stumbled toward him.

Ye Qingcheng stopped before Ye Xuan. Her lips trembled for a long while before she finally called out, cautiously and with overwhelming pleading and hope:

“Husband, can you not marry Ye Jiuhuang?”

The moment Ye Xuan heard the word “husband,” his previously calm expression darkened. A terrifying murderous aura erupted from his body.

“Who gave a lowly slave like you the right to call me husband?”

Ye Xuan flew into a rage. Without wasting a single unnecessary word, he swung his hand and delivered a vicious slap!

“Smack!”

The crisp sound, enough to make one’s scalp prickle, exploded through the corridor.

The slap was heavy and merciless.

Ye Qingcheng let out a shrill cry. Her entire body was sent flying like a broken kite, crashing heavily into a white jade pillar nearby. Several bloodstained broken teeth fell from the air amid splashes of blood.

“Ugh…”

Ye Qingcheng hit the ground. One side of her face swelled instantly, and even the bones cracked audibly, making one’s teeth ache.

But she had no time to care about the piercing pain. She hurriedly rolled over and crawled toward Ye Xuan on her knees.

Her eyes were filled with disbelief and anguish. Tears mixed with blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she cried out miserably:

“Master, you can’t marry her!”

Ye Xuan looked down at her from above. His eyes regarded her as though she were a pile of disgusting refuse, while the corner of his mouth curled into an icy, cruel smile.

“If I don’t marry her, should I marry a used-up whore like you?”

Ye Qingcheng’s entire body trembled violently. Her face went deathly pale, and she hurriedly shook her head, trying desperately to explain.

“Master, I’m pure! I really am pure!”

“Pure?”

The disgust in Ye Xuan’s eyes grew even deeper. He stared coldly at this woman who had once relied on illusions, drifted among countless men, and toyed with the heroes of the world as though they were puppets in the palm of her hand. He felt not the slightest trace of affection for her.

“But your heart is filthy. In my eyes, you’re nothing but a dirty woman.”

His voice remained utterly emotionless, yet it carried a chill that made one feel as though they had fallen into an icy abyss.

For a woman like Ye Qingcheng—someone who had been willing to exploit beauty and illusion without the slightest bottom line, manipulating and scheming whenever it served her interests and cultivation—he now felt nothing but disgust.

Hearing those merciless words, Ye Qingcheng felt as though an invisible hand had viciously crushed her heart. In a desperate attempt to cling to the last shred of hope, she hurriedly cried out:

“Master, no man other than you has ever touched me! I swear, I’ve never let anyone touch me!”

Not only was Ye Xuan unmoved by her words, he instead let out an extremely scornful laugh.

“Then how do you explain killing my wife, Su Rou?”

The moment those words were spoken, the air around them froze.

Ye Qingcheng stood as if struck by lightning. The voice with which she had been desperately arguing fell silent at once.

She opened and closed her mouth, yet not a single sound came out.

That was the blood debt she carried—the sin she had personally committed out of jealousy.

It was a blood-red chasm that would forever stand between her and Ye Xuan, one that no amount of weeping or pleading could ever erase.

Seeing her frozen expression, the madness and murderous rage in Ye Xuan’s eyes could no longer be suppressed.

“Bang!”

He suddenly raised his foot and kicked Ye Qingcheng viciously in the abdomen!

Ye Qingcheng immediately curled up like a shrimp and vomited a large mouthful of blood.

But this was only the beginning. With madness in his eyes, Ye Xuan brutally brought one foot after another down upon her body.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

The dull impacts of flesh against flesh echoed through the corridors of the Sword God Palace. Ye Qingcheng was completely powerless to fight back, and she did not dare resist. She could only cover her head tightly as Ye Xuan’s feet, heavy as mountains, slammed into her back and legs.

Before long, her once-neat clothes had been torn apart, while her skin had been trampled until it was a mangled, bloody mess. She was reduced to a truly pitiful state.

“Bitch, even if you’re as glib as a silver-tongued devil, what can you possibly change?” Ye Xuan said as he continued to stomp on her, looking down at her coldly.

Just then, a chilling, bone-shaking laugh suddenly rang out from the void at the other end of the corridor.

“Heh heh heh heh!”

Along with the laughter, a vast surge of sinister demonic energy rolled toward them like a black storm cloud, instantly shrouding the entire area.

A strange figure slowly emerged from within the demonic energy.

It was a thin, emaciated old man with a withered appearance.

His attire was exceedingly bizarre. He wore a Daoist robe of mismatched colors, covered in sinister yin-yang patterns. Most horrifying of all was his face: the left side was as gaunt as a dried corpse, its gray pallor radiating death, while the right side was plump and rosy like that of a baby. The sight was profoundly unsettling.

A lecherous, greedy light flickered in his triangular eyes.

He was none other than the renowned powerhouse, the Yin-Yang Demon Venerable!

Looking at Ye Xuan, the Yin-Yang Demon Venerable let out another ear-piercing laugh and said in a sinister voice, “Brother, I never would have imagined that after all this time, you’d actually marry Ye Jiuhuang. I’m truly envious!”

Ye Xuan stopped stomping on Ye Qingcheng. He cast the Yin-Yang Demon Venerable a glance, and the madness he had displayed moments ago instantly vanished. In its place was a faint smile.

“Long time no see, Brother.”

The Yin-Yang Demon Venerable’s gaze followed Ye Xuan’s feet downward. When he saw Ye Qingcheng lying on the ground—her body a bloody, mangled mess, yet still unable to conceal her peerless beauty—the lecherous greed in his eyes nearly became tangible.

He extended a tongue as withered as a dead branch and licked his lips before saying with a grin, “Brother, as agreed, I’ve gathered five hundred million supreme-grade spirit stones. You can hand Ye Qingcheng over to me now.”