Recapture of the North Heavenly Gate

The current situation wouldn't take much longer to conclude.

Finally, the remaining forces of the Heavenly Demon Sect and the beast army were completely annihilated.

Everything settled, and the Northern Heavenly Gate was reclaimed.

"Ahhhh!"

"We've won at last! Those damned beasts and the stinking Heavenly Demon Sect!"

"I... I’m still alive..."

Amid the joy of victory, there was also the sorrow of fallen comrades.

Di Haoran sighed, feeling no elation from the triumph. The High Priest was gone, the Heavenly Demon Sect had retreated, and not a single major enemy had been captured.

Had it not been for Nangong Xiyun’s warning, his own Emperor Heaven Sect would have suffered heavy losses.

He truly felt like a failure.

Di Haoran even wondered if age had caught up with him, leaving him out of step with the times.

He paced the battlefield, tending to the wounded.

Along the way, the most frequent topic he overheard was about the explosions—who had caused them.

From what he gathered, those explosions had saved countless lives at critical moments.

At the time, Di Haoran had been entirely focused on battling the High Priest and hadn’t paid much attention to the explosions. Now, it seemed the person behind them had terrifyingly precise control.

Intrigued, he began inquiring about their identity, determined to reward them properly.

Naturally, those in the Seven Stars Sword Sect who knew the truth wouldn’t speak—revealing it would only endanger Su Luo.

So they proudly declared, "We don’t know!"

Di Haoran assumed their cheerful expressions were simply gratitude toward the mysterious savior and thought little of it.

Yet, after questioning everyone, he still had no answer.

The mystery only deepened.

Ah well. Perhaps staying hidden was the best protection for this person. If they didn’t want to be known, he wouldn’t press further.

Di Haoran set the matter aside for now and turned to the Seven Stars Sword Sect disciples. "Where’s Nangong Xiyun?"

"No idea."

No one knew where she had gone.

Di Haoran had hoped to discuss their next steps with her.

Thinking of this junior, he couldn’t help but admire her. Reaching her level of cultivation at such a young age—terms like "prodigy" or "genius" hardly did her justice.

Without Nangong Xiyun this time, things would have gone terribly wrong.

He owed her his thanks, but where had she disappeared to?

After searching to no avail, Di Haoran gave up for the time being. There was still much to be done.

With the Northern Heavenly Gate reclaimed, the priority was reinforcing its defenses to prevent another beast army invasion.

Truthfully, the loss of the gate had been a humiliation for humanity, and part of him longed to retaliate by pushing further into the northern wildlands.

But now wasn’t the time. The beast army there remained formidable, and their ruler—the Beast Sovereign—was a being of unmatched power. Even Di Haoran couldn’t confidently claim victory against it.

They would have to wait for the right opportunity.

......

Su Luo leaned heavily on Little Yu, his entire weight draped over her shoulders.

Little Yu carried him as they walked, having long since shaken off any pursuers. From the start of their escape, the Seven Stars Sword Sect had secretly provided an escort, making their flight remarkably smooth.

Su Luo was utterly drained, exhausted beyond measure. Sustaining those explosions for so long would have sapped anyone dry, no matter how strong.

Little Yu found a safe spot, pulled out a comfortable bed from her storage space, and gently laid Su Luo down.

The soft bedding instantly drew a groan from him. "Ahhh, this is living."

Not really—he was still bone-tired, eyelids leaden.

"You’ve worked hard," Little Yu murmured, mimicking Su Luo’s habit of patting her head as she now stroked his.

"Who taught you that move?"

"You did, of course."

"Hah. It’s been ages since someone patted my head. Weird feeling. Maybe I’ll go easier on yours next time."

"No, I like it."

Little Yu inched closer, nudging her head against Su Luo’s hand.

When he didn’t react, she pressed further until, with a resigned chuckle, he obliged and ruffled her hair.

Only then did she beam with satisfaction.

"It’s over, huh," Su Luo mused.

"Yeah," Little Yu agreed.

Lying there, Su Luo felt the familiar ache of complete exhaustion—strangely welcome, as if some part of him still craved battle.

Though it’d be better if such things happened less often.

"Su Luo..."

"Hm?"

"Sleep if you’re tired," she whispered gently.

"Ha. Sounds familiar."

"You always say it to me."

"Right. Then... I’ll sleep now."

His voice faded as he drifted off.

Little Yu kept watch over him.

At first, she simply observed, quiet and attentive.

But gradually, seeing Su Luo so deeply asleep felt rare—precious.

Almost without thinking, she reached out and lightly tapped his cheek.

The contact sent her pulse racing, yet she didn’t pull back.

Instead, her fingers lingered, tracing his face until her entire palm rested against it.

She giggled softly, careful not to wake him.

Then, Yun arrived—Nangong Xiyun, having reverted to her disguise.

The moment she stepped in, she saw Little Yu caressing Su Luo’s face with a dreamy smile.

...This scene felt a little off.

Awkwardness hung thick. Little Yu ducked her head, though her hand stayed put—partly out of fear of rousing Su Luo, but mostly because she didn’t want to let go.

"Shh," Yun signaled immediately.

Little Yu nodded.

Tiptoeing, Yun settled on Su Luo’s other side.

She hadn’t expected him to be so thoroughly spent. You’ve worked hard, she thought. Rest well.

Time passed, and Little Yu grew bolder. Su Luo was usually so alert—even in sleep, the slightest touch would make him crack an eye open and ask, What are you doing?

Flustered, she’d never managed to continue.

But now, she could.

Her fingers traced his face again, the simple act filling her with contentment, as if all her weariness melted away.

So healing.

Yun, who’d been quietly watching, felt an odd itch herself.

Should she... touch him too?

No, no. Ridiculous. Nangong Xiyun, you’re at the Mahayana stage. You’d be laughed at for this.

But... Little Yu looked so happy. Why? How? It made no sense.

...And then her hand moved on its own.

As her fingers brushed Su Luo’s skin, memories surfaced—how she’d first grown curious about him because of the diary, how she’d observed him in secret.

By chance, she’d ended up at his side, becoming his subordinate.

Now, they’d spent so much time together.

Nothing between them had been earth-shattering—just mundane, everyday moments. Yet those fragments had become the happiest memories she carried.

The thought made her smile softly, though she couldn’t explain why.

I’m turning into Little Yu, aren’t I...