Su Xuan went into seclusion thirteen years ago.
At that time, Sang Dai had just descended the mountain to experience the mortal world, often not returning for years. Su Xuan, after being gravely injured once, saw his cultivation stagnate, and his mental state plummeted.
Sang Dai would always move forward, so he couldn’t afford to stop.
Su Xuan set up a barrier and entered a deep slumber. The barrier for his seclusion was intended to last fifteen years. He was not supposed to awaken during the great battle.
In his slumber, a violent force broke through his barrier, jolting him awake. Only then did he hear Liu Lixue’s panicked cries for help.
And he arrived just in time to save Sang Dai.
Sang Dai was held tightly in his arms, stunned and still recovering from the shock.
The contract seal of the Weisheng family was firmly embedded in her sea of consciousness. Ever since she discovered this seal, finding it again became exceptionally easy. The golden seal shimmered with faint spiritual fluctuations. This contract seal had existed since the Great Wild era and could directly mobilize the spiritual energy of the Guixu.
“Dai Dai, fortunately, I saved you…”
So it turns out, what Ling Yin said was true.
In her original fate, Sang Dai was supposed to die in that great battle.
Had Su Xuan emerged from seclusion even a moment later, Sang Dai would not have survived. It was that close.
The Weisheng family must have also known this fate, which is why they chose to awaken Su Xuan.
The little fox was still shaken and held her tightly. His mind was filled with the memory of seeing Sang Dai on the battlefield months ago—she lay in a pool of blood, with demonic beasts rushing at her, ready to tear her flesh apart.
When Su Xuan rushed forward, even his hands were trembling. She had been covered in gaping wounds, barely clinging to life.
The little fox still found it terrifying to recall.
He held her tightly, so much so that Sang Dai found it hard to breathe, yet she instinctively comforted him.
“I’m fine, Su Xuan. I’m still here,” Sang Dai patted the little fox’s head, her cheek gently brushing against his. “Isn’t the Sang Dai you’re holding right now alive and well?”
She could clearly feel Su Xuan’s fear—it was just like when Ling Yin told her that she was supposed to have died.
Su Xuan was deeply afraid of her dying.
Sang Dai had never seen her own state back then, but Su Xuan had witnessed it firsthand. He saw her riddled with wounds, her meridians severed, her golden core half-shattered, barely holding on with her last breath. For a whole month, he hadn’t slept, staying by her side, crying countless times.
She quietly hugged Su Xuan, saying nothing more.
The embrace was the best comfort for both of them. At least at this moment, Su Xuan could confirm her existence.
The Beast Realm was chillingly cold. Su Xuan quickly reined in his emotions and released Sang Dai in less than a quarter of an hour.
She stepped out of his embrace. The little fox held her hand, lowered his head, and cast several fire-control spells to warm her.
Sang Dai intentionally teased him, tilting her head and leaning in to look at him. “Your eyes are red. Did the great Beast King cry?”
Su Xuan replied, “No, it’s the wind.”
Sang Dai beamed, her eyes curving into smiles. “Oh, the wind, huh? Well then, it seems our great Beast King is still as strong as ever.”
Su Xuan tightened his grip on her hand. “Childish, aren’t you?”
Sang Dai was surprised. “You actually have the nerve to call me childish? How could I possibly compare to you?”
The sword cultivator’s exaggerated expression, with her raised brows, made it obvious to Su Xuan that she was teasing him.
[Dai Dai.]
Sang Dai heard his inner voice.
She smiled and responded warmly, “Su Xuan, I’m here.”
[I won’t leave you again.]
Sang Dai’s eyes grew a little misty.
They had known each other for so many years, and the more than a decade Su Xuan spent in seclusion was the longest they had ever been apart. It was during this time that she truly encountered life-threatening danger.
In the story, what kind of life did Su Xuan lead in the years after her death?
For a full hundred years, separated by life and death, even Sword Sect likely mentioned her name less and less. The only one who remembered her was Su Xuan.
The little fox before her leaned down again, pulling the sword cultivator into his arms. “Dai Dai, from now on, I won’t leave your side again. This kind of thing won’t happen anymore.”
He planted a light kiss on her cheek. Sang Dai, for once, didn’t feel shy—she only felt a bittersweet ache in her heart.
She returned his embrace, burying her face in his chest and breathing in the faint, clean fragrance on his black robes.
That scent brought a calmness to her heart.
“Alright,” the sword cultivator replied, her voice muffled.
—
When the sword cultivator and the little fox returned, Liu Lixue had already packed up everything.
The demon soldiers they brought had gone back earlier, leaving only the three of them here now.
As soon as Sang Dai arrived, a figure darted out from the side.
Qiu Chengxi exclaimed, “Sister, stay a little longer! The banquet at the Chunqiu Tower will last a full month!”
Su Xuan immediately saw through his intentions. This brat still hadn’t given up.
As if deliberately putting on a show for him, Su Xuan interlocked his fingers with the sword cultivator’s. “We’re not staying. The Beast Realm is vast, Dai Dai can stay wherever she wants—why waste time in your little Chunqiu Tower?”
Qiu Chengxi was indignant. “My Chunqiu Tower is plenty big! Sister, why don’t you come with me and see for yourself? It’s no worse than the Beast Palace!”
“Still not going.”
“She hasn’t even said anything, why are you speaking first?”
“Dai Dai said she doesn’t want to go.”
“Then let her say it herself!”
“Her throat’s not feeling well.”
“Su Xuan!”
Both Sang Dai and Liu Lixue couldn’t help but pinch their brows.
Sang Dai stepped forward and forcefully separated the two who were about to start fighting, standing firmly between them.
“Both of you, shut up.”
Sang Dai’s words were the most effective, instantly silencing the two childish ones.
She turned to look at the bristling little fox. “You go down with Liu Lixue first. I have some things to discuss with Young Master Qiu.”
Su Xuan: “?”
He was incredulous. “What could you possibly need to talk about with a brat like him?”
Qiu Chengxi shouted loudly, “I’m 110 years old!”
Sang Dai: “…Su Xuan, be good.”
The little fox stubbornly refused. “He’s scheming—”
Before he could finish, the sword cultivator stood on her tiptoes and patted the little fox on the head.
The fluffy ears popped out, brushing against her palm. With practiced ease, she began smoothing his fur and giving it a gentle rub.
“Be good, and when we return to the Beast Palace, I’ll give you a reward, alright?”
Her tone was soft, coaxing him as if he were a child. The little fox’s tail almost revealed itself.
His lips curled into a smile, but since Qiu Chengxi and Liu Lixue were present, he forced himself to maintain a composed expression, not daring to laugh.
[What kind of reward? Could it really be what I think?]
[A hug, a kiss, or…]
[No way, Dai Dai doesn’t seem like that kind of open person… but I like it. I like it so much. I want it.]
Sang Dai immediately retracted her hand, narrowed her eyes, and smiled. “Are you leaving or not?”
The little fox clearly misunderstood, thinking the sword cultivator really intended to reward him with those things.
A moment of patience for a lifetime of happiness—he figured he could endure this.
Su Xuan generously accepted, shooting a cold glance at the heartbroken Qiu Chengxi with an air of the rightful consort. “One quarter of an hour.”
Sang Dai agreed. “Just a short while.”
She gestured to Liu Lixue, who hurriedly ushered Su Xuan away.
Once they were alone, Sang Dai sighed and turned to face the completely shattered Qiu Chengxi.
She sighed again. “Young Master Qiu, I am deeply grateful for your help. If the Chunqiu Tower ever needs anything from me in the future, please don’t hesitate to ask. However, as you can see, I’m living very well now.”
She wasn’t good at saying harsh words, especially to someone who had helped her. In her eyes, Qiu Chengxi wasn’t much different from a younger brother.
Sang Dai hesitated, waiting quietly as Qiu Chengxi hung his head, lost in thought.
After a long silence, he suddenly spoke. “Sister.”
Sang Dai instinctively responded, “Hm?”
Qiu Chengxi asked, “Sister, is he good to you?”
Sang Dai answered without hesitation, “He’s good.”
In truth, there was no need to ask. Any sensible person could see how much Su Xuan cared for Sang Dai—cherishing her as if she were the most fragile treasure, treating her with the utmost tenderness and protection. Her clothes and jewelry grew increasingly exquisite, and everything she ate or used was of the highest quality.
Qiu Chengxi knew deep down that he could never treat Sang Dai as well as Su Xuan did.
Yet, he still felt a pang of unwillingness.
“Sister, do you like him?”
Sang Dai remained silent for a long time.
Qiu Chengxi raised his head and asked again, “Sister, do you like him?”
Sang Dai met his gaze and saw the hope in his eyes.
She clenched her sleeves tightly. Just as he was about to ask a third time, she nodded.
“…I do.”
Qiu Chengxi turned away, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.
His voice was muffled. “Alright, Sister. I understand.”
Sang Dai sighed, softening her tone. “Young Master Qiu, you’re still young. Back then, you were too little, and we only spent a dozen or so days together. You don’t really know me, nor do you truly understand the kind of person I am. Love doesn’t come so easily. What you feel toward me is more gratitude and admiration.”
“And besides,” Sang Dai continued, “Young Master Qiu, I do not harbor any romantic feelings for you. There’s no need for you to waste your time on me. You’ll meet someone you truly like. Don’t let me delay your future.”
Qiu Chengxi felt that Sang Dai had changed in many ways, yet remained the same in others.
She had grown more open and expressive, her emotions richer than before.
But just like in the past, she was resolute—she wouldn’t soften at the wrong time and would mercilessly shatter all of his illusions.
And yet, this version of Sang Dai made her all the more endearing.
Qiu Chengxi turned his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Sister, if you ever need anything in the future, just ask. The Chunqiu Tower will spare no effort to help.”
Sang Dai knew he had come to terms with it. Hearing his words, she smiled and nodded. “Alright, I’ll remember that.”
The conversation couldn’t go any further at this point.
Qiu Chengxi remained silent, watching her leave.
As soon as Sang Dai stepped out, she was pulled into a tight embrace.
Su Xuan hadn’t actually gone far earlier. He had deliberately stayed nearby and overheard everything clearly.
Dai Dai said she liked him.
Even though he knew her words carried a hint of intent to dispel Qiu Chengxi’s thoughts, Su Xuan chose to focus on what he wanted to hear.
Dai Dai said she liked him.
She liked him.
Dai Dai liked him!