Hatred That Runs Deep in the Bones

Over the next few months, the Hehuan Sect remained as bustling as ever.

Ye Qingcheng's reputation grew increasingly prominent. With the assistance of four chosen ones, her cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds, even touching the threshold of the mid-stage Foundation Establishment realm.

She became the object of envy for all the female disciples.

As for Ye Xuan, he completely faded from public view.

He did not leave the Hehuan Sect, nor did he take his own life. Like an emotionless stone, he did nothing every day but eat and cultivate madly.

This kind of cultivation was akin to self-mutilation. Ignoring the agonizing pain in his meridians and the risk of Qi deviation, he frantically devoured the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.

On this day, Ye Xuan was chopping wood in a dilapidated courtyard in the outer sect.

Although he could have used spiritual energy, he preferred the numbing sensation brought by physical labor.

"Ye Xuan..."

A familiar voice sounded at the courtyard entrance.

The axe in Ye Xuan's hands did not pause. With a crack, the firewood split in two.

Ye Liuli stood at the door. She was even more beautiful than she had been a few months ago, possessing the added charm of a mature woman. A breathtaking allure flowed through her brows and eyes—the result of long-term nourishment from dual cultivation.

Holding a food box in her hand, she looked somewhat uneasy.

Ye Xuan put down the axe, dusted the wood chips off his hands, and turned around, his face completely devoid of expression.

He did not call her "Qingcheng," nor did he call her "Wife."

A deeply distant and highly sarcastic cold smile curled at the corners of his mouth as he cupped his hands slightly:

"Greetings, Fairy Ye."

The words "Fairy Ye" were like a harsh slap across Ye Liuli's face.

Her face instantly turned deathly pale, and she almost dropped the food box.

Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. Trembling, she took a step forward: "Ye Xuan... what did you call me? When... when did we become so estranged?"

"Estranged?"

Ye Xuan took a step back, maintaining an absolute safe distance. His gaze was as cold as if he were looking at a stranger.

"Fairy Ye must be joking. You are a lofty chosen one of the inner sect, the pampered darling of four great Foundation Establishment experts. And me?"

Ye Xuan pointed at his patch-covered gray robe and mocked himself, "I am nothing but an ant in the Qi Condensation realm, not even fit to carry your shoes. We belong to two completely different worlds; there is no comparison."

"Don't say that!"

Ye Liuli cried as she rushed over, trying to cover his mouth. "I won't allow you to degrade yourself like this! In my heart, you will always be the most important!"

Ye Xuan tilted his head, dodging her hand.

Ye Liuli's hand froze in midair, incomparably awkward.

"Fairy Ye, please conduct yourself with dignity." Ye Xuan looked at her coldly. "If your Dao companions were to see you tangling with a piece of outer sect trash, I'm afraid it would be detrimental to you. You are fine porcelain, and I am broken tile. Don't let me dirty you."

"You..."

Ye Qingcheng felt a wrenching pain in her heart. She looked at the man before her, whose eyes were once filled only with her, but who had now built a thick wall around his heart.

She wanted to explain, to say that these past few months hadn't been easy for her either, to say that during her dual cultivation, her mind was filled only with him. But as the words reached her lips, looking into Ye Xuan's icy eyes, she couldn't utter a single syllable.

She knew that some things, once broken, were broken for good.

No matter how many spirit stones or tears were used, they could never be glued back together.

Ye Xuan picked up the axe again and stopped looking at her. With an icy tone, he issued an order for her to leave:

"If Fairy Ye has no further business, please return. The earthly energy of the outer sect is foul; I fear it might taint your immortal body."

Ye Qingcheng said nothing, merely turning around and leaving numbly.

Time flew like a shuttle, and the seasons cycled.

The spiritual energy of the Hehuan Sect remained dense, and Ye Qingcheng's reputation rose with her cultivation base.

She was like a rising demonic star, radiating boundless brilliance. Meanwhile, the shantytown where Ye Xuan resided was like a forgotten gutter, untouched by sunlight all year round.

Ye Xuan did not give up on himself as others had expected.

He was like a tenacious weed. Without the aid of a single pill or spirit stone, he relied purely on absorbing the most impure spiritual energy of heaven and earth to painstakingly temper his meridians bit by bit.

It hurt, but he was used to it.

At dusk one day, the setting sun was red as blood.

The dilapidated wooden door in the shantytown was gently pushed open. Ye Qingcheng, draped in a black cloak, slipped in like a thief.

She pulled back her hood, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful face flushed with excitement.

"Husband..."

She walked quickly to Ye Xuan, who was meditating, her voice carrying irrepressible joy. "Husband, I have good news for you! Zhao Tianba and the other three have taken a sect mission to explore an ancient mystic realm. It will be at least a month before they return!"

She crouched in front of Ye Xuan, tilting her head up. Her eyes sparkled like a child waiting for praise: "For this month, no one will come to bother us. For this month, I belong entirely and solely to you."

As she spoke, she reached out to hold Ye Xuan's hand resting on his knee, shyly rubbing her cheek against his palm: "Tonight... let me serve you properly, okay? I missed you, I really missed you so much."

Ye Xuan slowly opened his eyes.

In his eyes, there was no desire, no surprise, and scarcely even any disgust—only a calmness like a pool of dead water.

He quietly withdrew his hand, leaving Ye Qingcheng's cheek to rub against empty air.

"Fairy Ye," Ye Xuan's voice was as cold as a stone in an ice cellar. "Please conduct yourself with dignity. I ceased being your husband long ago."

The smile on Ye Qingcheng's face instantly froze, and she felt as if she had plunged into an icy abyss.

Trembling all over, tears burst from her eyes without warning: "You... you still blame me? Ye Xuan, I was forced by circumstances to do this! You know the sect's rules..."

"Forced by circumstances?"

Ye Xuan chewed on the phrase, a faint mockery curling the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps."

If it were two years ago, he would have been furious, he would have roared. But now, he only felt exhausted.

"I don't want to hear this." Ye Xuan closed his eyes again. "If there is nothing else, Fairy Ye, please return. A lone man and woman sharing a room will ruin your reputation if word gets out."

"Reputation? Why would I care about my reputation! I only care about you!"

Ye Qingcheng cried out, devastated. Trembling, she took a jade bottle from her robes and placed it on the table. "Inside is a Marrow Cleansing Pill. I went through great lengths to beg the elders for it. You have a mixed five-element spirit root; eating this will make your cultivation much smoother..."

Ye Xuan said nothing, remaining with his eyes closed to rest his mind.

Ye Qingcheng looked at this cold man, the grievance in her heart bursting forth like a broken dam.

Gritting her teeth, she wiped away her tears and choked out, "Fine, I'll go. Don't be angry, and remember to take the pill."

She left, looking back with every step she took.

The moment the door closed, Ye Xuan opened his eyes.

He looked at the priceless jade bottle on the table.

Without a hint of hesitation, he picked up the jade bottle, walked to the window, and casually tossed it out.

Splash.

The jade bottle traced an arc and fell into the stinking ditch outside, splashing up a few drops of filthy muddy water.

Ye Qingcheng, who had not gone far, heard the sound. She whipped her head around, catching sight of that exact scene.

She stood rooted to the spot, her nails digging deeply into her palms as drops of blood fell.

The light in her eyes faded bit by bit, replaced by a profound sense of loss, as well as a trace of twisted resentment born of love turned to hate—something even she herself had yet to realize.