“And… it seems that the Chunying Sword was obtained by my master at Linglong Town,” Sang Dai added.
Su Xuan paused mid-sip of his tea and raised his gaze to her.
The sword cultivator tilted her head slightly, her brows furrowed. “I wasn’t born yet at the time. My master gained fame early on. Back then, the Heroes Conference hadn’t been abolished yet—it was held once every ten years. One year, my master won first place, and the Chunying Sword was the prize he claimed. That year, the Heroes Conference was held at Linglong Town, and it turned out to be the last conference ever held.”
The Heroes Conference had been a tradition in the cultivation world for three thousand years. Young cultivators from all major sects could participate, regardless of their stage of cultivation or whether they were human, ghost, demon, or monster.
However, three hundred years ago, the Heroes Conference was canceled for unknown reasons. At that time, neither Su Xuan nor Sang Dai had been born.
Su Xuan asked, “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
Sang Dai shook her head. “I don’t know.”
She was always meticulous and would never jump to conclusions without sufficient evidence.
Su Xuan nodded. “It’s alright. We’ll find out what’s going on when we get there.”
The sword cultivator held the Hellfire orb to warm herself, her gaze unfocused, staring blankly into the distance.
It was clear to Su Xuan that her mind was elsewhere. There weren’t many people Sang Dai cared about, but Ying Heng was one of them.
At the age of three, she had been entrusted to Ying Heng for instruction. Under his guidance, she established her sword heart. In many ways, she could be considered someone Ying Heng had raised.
Su Xuan sighed. His youthful figure disappeared, replaced by that of a small fox cub.
The little fox walked over to Sang Dai, placing his paws on her knee. With a light leap, he landed in her lap, curling his four limbs snugly against her.
“Pet me,” the little fox said succinctly.
Sang Dai blinked in surprise. “…Huh?”
The fox looked up at her with his bright eyes, placing his paw in her palm while his fluffy tail swished lightly against her wrist.
“Aren’t you feeling down?”
[Pet me, and you’ll feel better. Dai Dai likes my true form.]
Sang Dai couldn’t help but laugh softly, the corners of her lips curving gently.
She set aside the Hellfire orb and embraced the much warmer little fox.
Sang Dai’s small face lightly nuzzled his furry head, breathing in the scent of grass and wood that clung to him. His fur was smooth and soft, a comforting sensation.
The little fox extended his tongue and gave her cheek a gentle lick.
Holding him close, Sang Dai asked, “Su Xuan, how are you so good at cheering people up?”
The little fox lazily rested in her arms and replied, “Because I only need to cheer you up. Isn’t that simple enough?”
“…I guess it is.”
Sang Dai was easy to understand, and Su Xuan knew her well. He knew what she liked and what she didn’t.
The sword cultivator gently squeezed the little fox’s paw, running her hand down his fur in smooth strokes. She adjusted her knees to let the little fox lie more comfortably in her lap.
Looking at the little fox nestled in her arms, she saw that he had closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. A faint, contented purring sound escaped from him.
Suddenly, a curious thought struck Sang Dai, and she asked directly, “Su Xuan, if a nine-tailed fox and a human cultivator have a child, would it be a fox, a human, or a half-demon? It seems like half-demons have a hard time in the Immortal Realm.”
Su Xuan replied lazily, “It would be a half-demon. Its true form would be a fox, but it could take on human form after the full moon. The Beast Realm doesn’t discriminate against half-demons—only your Immortal Realm does. I issued a decree long ago allowing the demon race to marry members of the other three realms. It’s just that the Immortal Realm doesn’t permit it.”
Sang Dai said, “That’s true. The Immortal Realm has a lot of unreasonable rules.”
The Immortal Realm forbade relations with the other realms. While it wasn’t a grave crime, societal prejudice was overwhelming, and children born from such unions were often discriminated against.
Su Xuan, still with his eyes closed, said, “In the Beast Realm, this isn’t an issue. No one cares about it.”
Sang Dai rubbed his ears and asked, “Would it still be a nine-tailed fox?”
“No, it wouldn’t have nine tails. Nine tails are exclusive to pure-blooded divine beasts, requiring both parents to be nine-tailed foxes.”
“Would it be an ordinary little fox then?”
“Not quite ordinary. It would still carry half a divine beast’s bloodline.”
Sang Dai nodded in understanding. Tian Yuxue had once mentioned that even with only half a divine beast’s bloodline, the Heavenly Dao would grant innate abilities. It did seem quite remarkable.
Suddenly, Su Xuan opened his eyes, his crystal-like pupils meeting the sword cultivator’s gaze.
The little fox’s voice carried a hint of teasing. “What’s the matter? Worried that our little one might face discrimination?”
At first, Sang Dai didn’t understand and asked in confusion, “What do you mean?”
Then she caught on and hurriedly denied it. “No, I was just asking out of curiosity. That’s all.”
Seeing Su Xuan’s true form had made Sang Dai wonder if the offspring of a human cultivator and a nine-tailed fox would also be an adorable, fluffy little fox. The question had come out instinctively, without any deeper intent.
Su Xuan, however, laughed harder, his little fox body trembling as he became more intent on teasing the sword cultivator.
“Both of us have awakened Heaven-grade spiritual roots. You began cultivating at three years old, and your talent is the best in the Four Realms. I’m an ancient divine beast. Our little one would most likely inherit Heaven-grade spiritual roots, and even if not, it would never be weak. It would surely become a great power in the Four Realms. Besides, no one would dare look down on our child.”
Sang Dai’s face turned scarlet, her eyes filled with panic as she rushed to explain. “That’s not what I meant! I was just asking!”
“Dai Dai, talent is far more important than bloodline. The princes and princesses of the royal family all have divine beast bloodlines, but aside from me, none of them have broken through the Nascent Soul stage. The nine-tailed bloodline isn’t all that significant. Even if we had a child, its talent would undoubtedly be one in a million, far better than an unimpressive nine-tailed bloodline.”
“Su Xuan, I really didn’t mean anything by it…”
The little fox licked the back of her hand, sending a ticklish sensation through her.
“But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need a little one. Life with just the two of us is wonderful. If we don’t have a child, we’ll leave the throne to Liu Lixue’s future child and wander the world together.”
Sang Dai didn’t dare meet his gaze, her ears burning red as the blush spread to her cheeks and neck.
Su Xuan, sensing her embarrassment, decided to stop teasing her. He lay in her arms, closing his eyes.
“Alright, I’ll stop teasing you. Dai Dai, do you want to rest? We won’t arrive until evening.”
Eager to escape the situation, Sang Dai quickly replied, “Yes.”
She set the little fox down and made her way to the nearby couch. As soon as she lay down, the little fox jumped onto the couch and transformed back into his human form.
Sang Dai: “?”
Su Xuan pulled her into his arms, feeling grateful that, as a nine-tailed fox, his natural stature was large enough to envelop the sword cultivator completely.
He didn’t retract his ears or tails; nine fluffy tails wrapped around her waist and tucked into her embrace.
“Let me hold you for a while.”
Sang Dai: “…”
Su Xuan added, “Daily closeness to deepen our bond.”
The little fox kissed the tip of her nose, cupped her small face, and asked, “Dai Dai, do you like me a little more today?”
[Like me just a little more, okay? If you like me a little more every day, I can have a wife by the end of the year!]
Sang Dai couldn’t help but laugh. Only he could say something so childish with such seriousness.
Meeting Su Xuan’s expectant gaze, her heart softened completely, unable to refuse him.
She always indulged Su Xuan unconditionally.
“Yes.”
The little fox pressed on. “More than yesterday?”
“Mm, more than yesterday.”
“I like you more than I did yesterday too.”
His affection for Sang Dai always surpassed that of the day before, ever brighter than the morning light.
Su Xuan’s eyes curved into a smile as he cupped her small face and leaned forward, planting a dozen loud kisses on her.
Sang Dai closed her eyes, enduring his chick-pecking kisses, the smile on her lips never fading.
The little fox was truly, incredibly, extraordinarily adorable.
And this adorable side of him was something he only ever showed to her.
“Now can I hold you while we sleep?”
“Yes.”
Sang Dai hugged one of his fluffy tails while resting her head on another, feeling warmth envelop her entirely.
Though the mustard seed boat was approaching Linglong Town, all her previous tension had melted away. With him by her side, she felt an enduring sense of security.
Letting down all her guards, she fell asleep quickly.
Since arriving in the Beast Realm, Sang Dai had abandoned her habit of keeping vigilant while sleeping. In the past, even the slightest sound would wake her, but now, she didn’t even notice the little fox’s stolen kisses.
Su Xuan kissed her red lips several times in a row, gazing at her sleeping face.
Even asleep, she was so cute—everything about her was adorable.
He pulled Sang Dai into his arms, gently patting her back to lull her into a deeper sleep.
The mustard seed boat hovered high in the sky, flying steadily toward the territory of the Immortal Realm.
—
Tianque Mountain.
Shen Feng walked hurriedly toward the inner hall. As soon as he entered, he was met with the sound of suppressed coughing.
He quickened his pace, weaving around the obstructing pillars, until he saw a figure leaning on a desk, covering their mouth as they coughed.
“Ciyu!”
Shen Feng hurried forward.
Shen Ciyu, pale-faced, stood clad in the Sword Sect leader’s robes. His once boyish ponytail was now meticulously bound with a jade crown. In just a few months, all traces of his youthful spirit had vanished.
Turning his head, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said hoarsely, “Father, I’m fine. Please return to the Shen family.”
How could Shen Feng leave? Ever since learning that Shen Ciyu’s state of mind had collapsed, he had stayed at the Sword Sect, checking on him seven or eight times a day, terrified that something might happen to his only child.
“Ciyu, your mother is very worried about you. Why not come home with me for a few days?”
Shen Ciyu shook his head. “There are still Sword Sect matters to handle. I can’t leave.”
Shen Feng tried to persuade him. “Ciyu, don’t burden yourself with unnecessary obsessions. Cultivation is most afraid of clinging too deeply to attachments.”
Lowering his gaze, Shen Ciyu said, “I understand, Father.”
Shen Feng suddenly regretted everything.
He should never have sent Shen Ciyu to the Sword Sect in the first place. His son was too stubborn, too kind-hearted, and inexperienced in dealing with major events. Life had been smooth and easy for him until now, but the recent series of events had dealt him devastating blows.
His revered teacher had committed countless murders. He had unwittingly sent many disciples to their deaths. The sect he had trusted was, from start to finish, a place that devoured its own. The Sword Sect had been nailed to the pillar of shame, nearly stripped of its status as one of the Three Great Sects.