Ling Yin said that, in hindsight, the best had always been standing behind her, quietly guarding her.
Sang Dai and her little fox had missed each other for a hundred years. During the century when she had forgotten him, only Su Xuan remembered their past, only Su Xuan silently watched over her.
At their peak, they were each other’s strongest opponents; in their downfall, only Su Xuan extended a hand to her.
Sang Dai wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Yet, he seemed not to have reacted, the metallic taste of blood lingering between their lips. Both had just weathered a tribulation, and the wounds left by the heavenly thunder had not fully healed.
Sang Dai pulled back slightly, her eyelashes lifting as she met Su Xuan’s gaze.
The little fox quietly looked at her, and his heart was equally calm.
Sang Dai kissed his lips again, taking the opportunity to give a light bite.
It seemed like Su Xuan finally understood. He suddenly stood up, bringing Sang Dai up with him.
She was slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”
Su Xuan abruptly turned away, his shoulders trembling slightly.
Sang Dai guessed what was happening and suddenly burst into laughter, quietly circling around to stand in front of him, leaning forward to peek at his face.
“Who’s the little gentleman crying here? Want me to comfort you?”
The little fox kept his head down, though he was quite tall. Sang Dai bent her waist on purpose, leaning in to look, and just happened to meet his slightly reddened eyes.
Taking advantage of the moment, Sang Dai threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his slim waist and pressing her cheek against his chest.
The strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat—each beat was full of vitality.
Su Xuan was alive, truly alive. He hadn’t spent a hundred years in endless sorrow and regret, crying himself to sleep each night. He hadn’t lost his sanity, becoming unrecognizable. He hadn’t despaired upon seeing her remains, and he hadn’t followed her into the Yellow Springs on the hundredth year after her death.
For a hundred years separated by life and death, her death had been an end to everything, knowing nothing, while every day he lived was torment.
Sang Dai held him tightly and softly said, “Su Xuan, stay by my side always, and I will always stay by yours.”
Su Xuan lowered his head stiffly to look at the person in his arms. Her hair was still adorned with the Nine-Ring Hairpin he had given her, and the blue robe she wore was custom-made at his request. Traces of him were everywhere in her life.
He carefully returned her embrace, touching the most tangible and real Sang Dai.
This wasn’t a dream.
It was real.
The little fox had never even dared to dream of marrying her in the past.
Su Xuan rested his chin on the top of her head, murmuring in a muffled voice, “You agreed yourself—it wasn’t me forcing you.”
Sang Dai laughed. “Yes, I agreed. I’ll be your Beast Queen. I’m more than willing.”
“…I will only marry one wife in this lifetime. If I marry her, there will be no divorce. I’ll form a Twin-Soul Marriage Pact with her—if I die, she dies; if she dies, I die.”
“Alright, we’ll form a Twin-Soul Marriage Pact.”
“…She can’t love anyone else. She can only love me. This lifetime, she’s mine. The next lifetime, too. Every lifetime to come, she’ll still be mine.”
“Alright, every lifetime, I’ll be yours.”
In truth, those who awaken Heavenly-Grade Spiritual Roots have no reincarnation.
But in their one and only long lifetime, they would devote it entirely to each other.
“Sang Dai.”
“I’m here.”
“You can’t regret this.”
“I will never regret it.”
Su Xuan’s tears fell; everything happening felt like a dream.
He cupped Sang Dai’s face, bending down to meet her eyes.
From her delicate, arched brows, past her beautiful phoenix eyes, to the tip of her small nose and her full, red lips—he had loved this face from the time she was thirteen to the time he was one hundred and thirty-three. His love for her had sunk deep into his bones. He was willing to live for her and, without hesitation, die for her.
“I won’t give you the chance to regret it. I’ll always listen to you. If you’re angry, you can hit me or scold me. Whatever you want, you can tell me—but you can’t leave me.”
“Alright, Su Xuan, I’ll never leave you.”
“If you lie, you’re a little dog.”
“If I lie, I’m a little dog.”
Su Xuan finally smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. When he reached her eyes, Sang Dai closed them, obediently letting him continue.
He lightly pecked her nose, then covered her red lips with his.
She parted her lips, allowing him in.
Their mingling breaths carried the metallic tang of blood, mixed with a faint fragrance of herbs and plants, intertwining in the air between them.
Su Xuan bent down, and Sang Dai slightly tiptoed to wrap her arms around his neck.
The little fox held her waist, supporting her body with his arm, allowing her to rely on his strength.
The height difference between them was too great, making it somewhat difficult to kiss while standing.
The little fox’s kisses went from shallow to deep. The sword cultivator had now learned to return the kisses, actively cooperating with him. Her inexperienced responses softened his heart into a puddle, sweeping through her lips and teeth.
No one was nearby—only the two of them stood kissing amidst the Hellfire.
The Hellfire did not harm Sang Dai; instead, it affectionately clung to the hem of her clothing.
When their lips parted, a silver thread lingered, making both of them laugh.
Su Xuan cupped her face, licking away the moisture on her lips and wiping the sheen from her chin with his thumb. When his gaze met the sword cultivator’s jet-black eyes, he couldn’t resist kissing her eyes again.
“Let’s get married when we go back, shall we?”
“So urgent?”
“The mating season is approaching.”
Sang Dai’s face flushed red, and she instinctively turned her gaze away.
Su Xuan kissed her cheek again. “Spend this year with me. Let’s make little fox cubs together, okay?”
Sang Dai muttered, “…Isn’t it too early?”
“Of course, that’s not what I mean. I don’t want to be a father so soon either,” Su Xuan said with a laugh. “It’s just a subtle way of putting it. In the future, whenever I mention making little fox cubs, it’ll mean…”
Sang Dai’s face, red as a ripe fruit, fell into Su Xuan’s eyes, making his smile grow wider.
The little fox bit her earlobe, gently sucking on it as he whispered:
“I want to be with you, Dai Dai.”
Sang Dai’s ears turned bright red as she stammered, “Su Xuan… we can discuss these things after we return to the Beast Realm…”
The little fox nuzzled against the sword cultivator, holding her close. “Let’s first find Immortal Lord Ying Heng, and then we’ll head to him right away.”
Sang Dai wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning against his shoulder with a radiant smile. “Su Xuan, let me tell you something.”
The little fox replied softly, “Mm, go ahead, my dear.”
Sang Dai said, “I saw my master.”
Su Xuan’s body stiffened.
Sang Dai kissed his earlobe and said, “You can meet my elder now.”
Su Xuan suddenly straightened up.
Sang Dai laughed and asked, “What’s wrong? I really found my master.”
Her voice became light at this point, as if even she found it dreamlike.
Su Xuan turned around, reaching into his storage pouch to take out a copper mirror.
The person in the mirror had silver hair tied with a single wooden hairpin. Their black robe was tattered, with traces of soot from being struck by lightning on their face, utterly lacking the former air of dignity.
He said in a muffled voice, “…I’ll head back to the inn to tidy up first.”
Sang Dai embraced him from behind, pressing her cheek against his back.
The sword cultivator’s voice came from behind him:
“Su Xuan, my master cannot see.”
The little fox’s movements froze.
Sang Dai continued, “My master… has lost all five senses. He cannot see you.”
Nor could he see her.
Ying Heng did not know what Sang Dai looked like as an adult.
Tears flowed down Sang Dai’s face, tracing along the bridge of her nose. “He has suffered so much… losing all five senses, having his spiritual root extracted, yet he still came looking for me… He has forgotten many things. His memories are in disarray.”
Su Xuan turned around, pulling Sang Dai into his arms, holding her face-to-face.
“Dai Dai, I will find the best medical cultivator in the world for Immortal Lord Ying Heng. Liu Lixue’s medical skills are renowned across the four realms. Don’t worry, everything will get better.”
A hint of a smile appeared in Sang Dai’s tearful eyes as she replied, “I know. Will you go with me to see my master?”
“…Does Immortal Lord Ying Heng know about me?”
“He does. He likes you very much.”
“…Really?”
“Really.”
On their way back to Linglong Town, Sang Dai told Ying Heng about her and Su Xuan.
She included everything: how she had defected from the Immortal Realm, gone to the Beast Realm, found someone she loved, and that the person she loved was the Beast King.
Ying Heng’s expression softened as he said, “Dai Dai, you are both good children. Your master is happy for you.”
It was the first time the Beast King had ever been called a “good child.” Now, the “good child” seemed a little unaccustomed to it, awkwardly nuzzling into the crook of her neck.
The “good child” spoke in a muffled voice: “Mm, I’ll go with you to see Immortal Lord Ying Heng.”
To marry Sang Dai, Ying Heng was the greatest hurdle. But now, it seemed that Ying Heng had no intention of standing in the way.
At first, Su Xuan had assumed that someone as loyal to the Immortal Realm as Ying Heng would oppose him due to his demon identity, and he had even discussed countermeasures with Liu Lixue.
Yet, Ying Heng didn’t seem to care about his demonic heritage.
From beginning to end, Ying Heng only cared about Sang Dai’s feelings.
Sang Dai liked him, and as long as he treated her well, whether he was human, ghost, demon, or devil didn’t matter.
Su Xuan laughed softly and kissed his beloved sword cultivator’s neck.
“Master is so kind.”
He had already started calling him “Master.”
Sang Dai couldn’t stop laughing. “You adapt pretty quickly. Is he your master just because you called him that?”
“Master is so kind. I’ll definitely be filial to him in the future.”
“Fine, fine, say that to his face.”
“Shall we go see Master now?”
“Mm, let’s go together.”
—
Liu Lixue avoided the vines all the way to the City Lord’s Mansion.
He knew the location of the osmanthus tree—Sang Dai had mentioned it to him before.
When he saw it from a distance, even the usually composed peacock couldn’t help but pause in midair.
Earlier, Su Xuan and the black-clad man had been fighting in the City Lord’s Mansion, but since there were many residents nearby, Su Xuan had pressed the black-clad man into retreating to a more secluded area.
However, while the entirety of Linglong Town seemed to have been attacked by vines, the City Lord’s Mansion was eerily quiet. Liu Lixue hovered high in the air, scanning the entire mansion below. The vines that had been relentlessly pursuing him earlier stopped short at the vicinity and did not advance further.
This only made the situation even more bizarre.
Recalling Sang Dai’s inexplicable instruction for him to uproot the osmanthus tree, Liu Lixue’s gaze sharpened, and a suspicion formed in his mind.
He teleported to the courtyard where the osmanthus tree was located.
The ancient tree reached high into the sky, having stood there for three hundred years. Its trunk was thick, its branches and leaves lush, and now, in the depths of autumn, fallen flowers blanketed the courtyard.
The folding fan in Liu Lixue’s hand extended its sharp blades. With a flick of his wrist, the once-small fan expanded, and the gleam of the blades slashed toward the osmanthus tree.
The previously flat ground cracked open, and narrow fissures spread rapidly. Countless vines burst forth from the cracks, their twisted forms lined with sharp thorns, clawing and lunging at Liu Lixue.
The peacock’s expression turned cold, and just as he was thinking of a way to dodge, someone grabbed his shoulder and hurled him backward.
A white-clad sword cultivator with disheveled black hair and a wind-tossed robe stood in front, gripping a sword in one hand and driving it into the ground.
The sword was entirely silver, exuding an aura of deadly intent. Even someone like Liu Lixue, who was unskilled with swords, could recognize it as a famed blade.
The long sword pierced the ground, and its sharp intent manifested into tangible, blade-like shapes. Forming into a swirling pattern of clouds, it swept forward with murderous intent, severing all the attacking vines.
Liu Lixue was dumbfounded. He couldn’t sense any spiritual energy fluctuations from this sword cultivator, as though the person was an ordinary mortal without a spiritual root.
Yet relying solely on the sword’s intent, he had solidified it into sharp edges, slicing through the man-eating vines.
As Liu Lixue stood in a daze, the ground behind him suddenly caved in. From the sunken area, dozens of vines extended, twisting and aiming straight for his back.
Ying Heng, who had been waiting for Chunying’s transmission, sensed the commotion but hadn’t reacted in time to intervene. Just as he was about to turn and save him, he felt a familiar ripple in his consciousness.
It was his disciple.
She had arrived quickly.
Su Xuan leapt down from the rooftop, grabbing Liu Lixue by the shoulder and throwing him back up onto the roof.
The fox stood beside him, arms crossed, looking at him coldly with undisguised disdain in his eyes.
“Useless. You can’t even handle pulling out a tree.”
Liu Lixue’s eye twitched.
A blue-clad sword cultivator descended from the sky, her sword light cutting from all directions, severing all the vines that had emerged.
Her movements were so swift they left afterimages.
“Master, I’ll handle these vines. You go cut the tree!”
Ying Heng nodded. “Alright.”
He drew the Chunying Sword, and a warm stream of spiritual energy surged into his back from someone behind him.