She blinked, and the Zhiyu Sword in her palm seemed to heat up as a result.
What did Su Xuan like about her?
Sang Dai herself didn’t know.
She really wanted to straightforwardly ask him: What exactly do you like about me?
But without even guessing, Su Xuan would undoubtedly think of every possible way to deny it.
Sang Dai met his gaze and stayed silent for a long time. In the deathly stillness, she lowered her eyes and picked up the Zhiyu Sword in her hand.
The long sword lay horizontally across her palms. Sang Dai held this sword that had been with her for over a hundred years and drew it from its scabbard.
The fractured blade had long since been mended by Su Xuan, yet it no longer responded to her, its rightful master.
At that moment, Su Xuan’s voice came through: “Sang Dai, I want you to return to the peak of the sword path and fight me once again.”
Sang Dai’s slender fingers traced the patterns etched on the Zhiyu Sword, feeling the familiar blade she had polished countless times.
Finally, she parted her lips gently and replied, “Alright.”
She stood up and met Su Xuan’s gaze.
His eyes were as calm as ever, yet now she could see something different in them. It seemed like…
Heartache.
Sang Dai used to think Su Xuan was an impolite but incredibly powerful demon.
Now, Sang Dai wanted to add a new description to that.
An impolite, incredibly powerful, arrogant, sharp-tongued, yet surprisingly good at cooking demon.
If she hadn’t been able to hear his inner thoughts, Sang Dai would never have believed Su Xuan harbored such feelings for her.
But now, she couldn’t respond to him. She carried too much on her shoulders.
The Guixu Spiritual Vein had been destroyed, Ying Heng, an awakened Heaven-grade spiritual root, had betrayed them, and the Cangwu Daoist Temple’s three thousand disciples had been massacred. The matter involved too many complexities. Sang Dai had been investigating for so many years and couldn’t abandon everything to pursue personal feelings.
If the Guixu Spiritual Vein’s destruction wasn’t thoroughly investigated, the spiritual veins of the Four Realms would eventually be depleted. Both she and Su Xuan would reach the end of their cultivation path and die of the Five Decays of Heaven and Man.
In a soft voice, Sang Dai said, “Su Xuan, I will take good care of my health. In half a month, please let Young Master Liu reconstruct my meridians. I must go to Bairen Alley, and I will definitely completely reconstruct my Golden Core.”
“I will return to the peak of the sword path and fight you once more.”
Su Xuan was also the most powerful opponent she had ever faced. Sparring with him was as enlightening for Sang Dai as comprehending a new sword technique.
The two locked eyes, Sang Dai slightly tilting her head upward while Su Xuan lowered his to look at her. Their vastly different gazes collided.
Once again, Sang Dai heard Su Xuan’s inner voice.
[Dai Dai…]
Sang Dai smiled faintly as she looked at him.
[Damn it, so cool, so amazing… I want to kiss her.]
Sang Dai: “…”
Alright, so much for being serious.
Once again, the same old thing.
She suddenly chuckled, unable to hold back her amusement. Her laughter softened her gaze, and with her naturally cool and elegant appearance, her smile was like a spring breeze brushing away winter snow, melting the cold and bringing clarity and warmth to everything.
The heavy mood that had been weighing on her these days suddenly lifted, and she found herself smiling from the heart.
[Dai Dai smiled. She smiles so beautifully. Kiss, kiss.]
Sang Dai’s smile grew even more apparent.
Su Xuan hadn’t seen Sang Dai smile like this in years.
He knew it was inappropriate, but he couldn’t look away. His gaze was fixed on Sang Dai’s face, watching her crescent-shaped eyes curve in laughter and the faint dimples that appeared at the corners of her lips.
His own lips twitched slightly as well.
The two of them continued to look at each other until Cui Shao knocked on the door. “Sovereign Lord, it’s late. Should you retire for the night?”
Su Xuan finally snapped out of it. Realizing how he had just been staring at her, a faint heat crept up his ears. He turned his head away and cleared his throat with a soft cough.
“It’s late. I shall retire.”
With that, he quickly strode out of the room, his retreating figure giving Sang Dai the impression of someone fleeing in a hurry.
Sang Dai didn’t move, instead shaking her head helplessly. Lowering her gaze, she examined the Zhiyu Sword, its surface marked with cracks. Her eyes turned distant, as though lost in thought.
Her fingers lightly traced the cracks on the blade. In the past, the Zhiyu Sword would always respond to her affectionately, but now it remained lifeless and unresponsive. She could no longer feel the presence of its sword spirit.
Sang Dai gazed at it for a long time before finally sighing.
“Zhiyu, you’ve worked hard.”
She sheathed the Zhiyu Sword and tucked it into her storage pouch before heading out.
Sang Dai, by habit, went to bathe and freshen up. Cui Shao had already prepared the water. After washing up, Sang Dai donned the inner robes Cui Shao had laid out for her. Drying her hair with a cloth, she made her way toward the main hall.
As usual, she pushed open the doors to the main hall. Since Su Xuan had brought her back, he had arranged for her to sleep there. She had slept there the previous night as well, so she returned to the main hall instinctively.
But as she passed through the outer hall and entered the inner hall, she discovered she wasn’t alone.
The spacious inner hall featured a large bed, big enough to fit several people. Normally, she had it all to herself.
But now, someone stood by the bed.
The room was illuminated by night-luminescent pearls, as bright as daylight. Their translucent glow outlined the tall figure with striking clarity.
Su Xuan was dressed in a simple black robe for sleep, which accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His loosely draped silver hair spilled over his shoulders, still damp and glistening faintly with water droplets. It seemed he had just bathed. Under the light of the pearls, his hair shimmered as though silver light flowed through it.
Hearing the noise, he turned his head and glanced at Sang Dai. “I’m staying here tonight.”
Sang Dai: “…The Beast Palace is so large.”
Su Xuan: “This is my main hall. Can’t I?”
Sang Dai asked, “Do you think you can?”
Su Xuan nodded. “I say you can.”
Sang Dai: “…”
Without hesitation, she turned around. “Then I’ll stay somewhere else.”
At that moment, the door to the inner hall was shut.
Su Xuan declared, “You will stay in my main hall. I will personally keep watch over you.”
But in Sang Dai’s ears, she heard: [Living with Dai Dai now. Dai Dai smells so nice, so soft, I really like her. I’ll just sneak a kiss!]
Sang Dai: “………”
She was speechless but knew that Su Xuan would only think about such things and wouldn’t actually cross the line. In this regard, she felt quite at ease with him.
Su Xuan dried his hair with spiritual energy. When he noticed droplets of water still falling from Sang Dai’s hair, he suddenly stepped forward.
His tall figure loomed in front of her, effectively blocking her way. The collar of his inner robe was slightly open, revealing a defined adam’s apple and prominent collarbones. The thin fabric of his inner robe, dampened by water earlier, clung to his body. At such close range, the smooth lines of his muscles and the clear definition of his abs were faintly visible.
“Su Xuan, what are you doing?”
Sang Dai instinctively wanted to retreat, but as soon as she stepped back, she bumped into the clothes rack behind her, which pressed horizontally against her back, preventing her from moving further.
Su Xuan took another step forward, trapping her between his embrace and the clothes rack.
Sang Dai’s slender frame contrasted sharply with Su Xuan’s stature, as the demon race was generally much taller than humans. It looked as if he had completely enveloped her in his arms.
“Su Xuan?”
Sang Dai felt uncomfortable and raised her arms to push against his chest, her palms pressing against him. The demon race’s body temperature was higher than that of humans, a stark contrast to her own cold body at the moment.
Su Xuan placed his hand on her lower back, and warm spiritual energy flowed from his palm, surging through Sang Dai’s meridians and instantly dispelling the coldness hidden within her. Her dripping black hair gradually dried under the warmth as well.
Poisoned by the Sword Sect, Sang Dai had been unable to use spiritual energy for a long time. Her severely injured meridians often fell into disorder—sometimes overheating, sometimes struck by intense cold.
Standing before her, Su Xuan pressed his long fingers against her lower back. His broad palm seemed capable of wrapping entirely around her slender waist. The spiritual energy emanating from his hand was something Sang Dai had no intention of rejecting.
Fresh from his bath, Su Xuan carried a faint, pleasant herbal scent that wafted into her nose. Sang Dai instinctively took a small sniff before snapping back to her senses and realizing her behavior was rather odd.
Her hair was now dry. She turned her head away and said softly, “That’s enough.”
It was an ordinary sentence, but to Su Xuan, it sounded like it carried another meaning.
His body felt unbearably hot, and the veins on his forehead throbbed visibly. His hand on her waist tightened involuntarily, pulling her closer into his embrace. Sang Dai was nearly pressed entirely against his chest, her nose just a breath away from touching his collarbone.
The desire for her was overwhelming.
The sword cultivator he had longed for, for so many years, was right here in his arms. Both of them wore only light inner robes meant for sleeping, the thin fabric doing little to block the exchange of warmth between their bodies. Su Xuan’s much higher body temperature wrapped around Sang Dai’s cooler form, as if she were being held by a furnace.
But it wasn’t time yet. She still wasn’t ready.
Su Xuan turned his head away, closed his eyes, and let out a long breath.
When he opened his eyes again, the passion within them had been forcibly suppressed, replaced by the same aloofness as always.
“Night is deep, rest well.”
As Su Xuan released her waist, Sang Dai keenly sensed another surge of warm spiritual energy coursing through her entire body.
Over the past days, she had grown familiar with Su Xuan’s spiritual energy.
It was a trace of energy he left behind, meant to keep her meridians warm for a while.
Despite telling her to rest, Su Xuan didn’t move toward the main bed. Sang Dai noticed that the small couch originally in the outer hall had somehow been moved into the inner hall.
His tall frame lay sprawled across it, clearly cramped, with his feet lazily draped over the armrest. For someone like the Beast King, accustomed to a life of luxury, this was undoubtedly a rare discomfort. Even Sang Dai felt a twinge of guilt on his behalf.
Looking at Su Xuan’s awkward position, she couldn’t help but speak up.
“Su Xuan, how about I sleep on the couch, and you take the main bed?”
Without even opening his eyes, Su Xuan lazily replied, “A bed someone else has slept on is something I won’t use.”
The implication was clear: since she had slept on the bed, he refused to use it and would rather endure the narrow couch.
Sang Dai opened her mouth, wanting to point out that she had also napped on that couch earlier in the day.
But knowing Su Xuan’s obstinate nature, she swallowed the words back.
Why bother exposing him?
She cooperatively nodded. “Fine, your Beast Palace, your rules.”
Sang Dai pulled down the bed curtains and tucked herself inside.
Su Xuan’s bed was indeed soft and cozy. Perhaps he had cast a formation on it, as it radiated warmth. Sang Dai closed her eyes and let herself drift into sleep.
Without spiritual energy, her body tired easily. Drowsiness came quickly, and even though she was aware of Su Xuan’s presence nearby, she trusted him entirely not to harm her. She allowed herself to fall into a deep slumber.
The room was quiet. Su Xuan made no sound, his breathing steady and even. The stillness lulled her into a deeper sense of relaxation.
As her consciousness grew hazy, Sang Dai felt as though she were floating in a vast body of water, her entire body weak and weightless. It seemed as though someone was speaking to her.
“Four Sufferings… Guixu…”
The voice was fragmented and faint. She tried to listen closely, but it was too unclear.
What?
Who was speaking?
Frowning, Sang Dai strained to make sense of the disjointed murmurs.
The voice echoed repeatedly, as if traveling across the expanse of time, determined to make her hear it clearly.
In the swirling fog of her mind, the words finally came into focus.
It was a voice entirely unfamiliar to her.
“Poisoned by the Four Sufferings, Guixu is doomed to fall.”
“Heaven-grade spiritual root awakener, what path have you chosen?”
The voice repeated the same phrase over and over again.
Again and again, the voice asked her:
“What path have you chosen?”
Chosen a path?
What path?
What Four Sufferings, what Guixu’s downfall, what Heaven-grade spiritual root awakener?
She couldn’t discern who was speaking. The vague voice was too indistinct to recognize.
All she felt now was cold.
A chilling sensation surged from deep within her body, as if it wanted to freeze her meridians. She instinctively tugged at the quilt, hoping to find some warmth.
But it was still so cold.
So cold.
Her trembling hand was suddenly held, and a wave of unfamiliar warmth dispelled her chill.
A surge of powerful spiritual energy poured into her fractured dantian, shielding her half-shattered Golden Core and melting the frost that encrusted it.
Sang Dai instinctively leaned toward the warmth.
It felt like a furnace—drawing closer brought her comfort, and amidst the icy storm overwhelming her, it offered her a campfire to hold onto.
“So warm…”
She murmured unconsciously, gripping the warmth and pulling it closer to her side, her hands wrapping tightly around the source.
She held it with all her strength, and though her body was weak, at this moment it was as if an endless reserve of energy allowed her to cling tightly to the warmth that was saving her.
Su Xuan’s entire body stiffened.
Two fox ears emerged from the dense silver hair on his head, standing upright and twitching slightly. Their furry tips seemed to have turned a faint pink, and upon closer inspection, a soft blush could be seen.
His robe, loose and thin, suddenly felt insufficient. As a Nine-Tailed Fox, his blood naturally ran hot, and he had always dressed lightly. He had never thought much of it—until now.
The small sword cultivator curled up in his arms, her slender arms wrapped around his waist, her face buried in his chest. Her warm breath brushed against his collarbone and Adam’s apple, like a tiny feather brushing over sensitive skin, leaving a trail of secretive shivers in its wake.
This was his main hall.
She was sleeping in his bed, under his quilt, curled up in his embrace—holding onto him.
The entire fox froze in place.
He had only intended to come over and transfer some spiritual energy to her. Her meridians were severely injured, and the lingering poison caused her body to alternate between extreme heat and cold, leaving her unable to sleep peacefully. That was why he had stayed to watch over her.
But the moment he grabbed her wrist to deliver spiritual energy, she had yanked him onto the bed.
Someone battered by a harsh winter storm instinctively clings to any fire they encounter as though it were a lifeline. That was exactly what Sang Dai had done, pulling him in with surprising strength. Su Xuan, worried about hurting her, didn’t dare resist, and before he knew it, she had dragged him onto the bed.
His Adam’s apple bobbed violently.
The temperature of the sword cultivator in his arms gradually rose. At the same time, his own body temperature climbed higher and higher.
Su Xuan knew this wasn’t right. He had suppressed his mating instincts since coming of age, and only he understood how intense his longing for her truly was. If he stayed like this much longer, he feared he would lose control.
Yet looking at the person in his arms—
Her delicate brows were laced with frost, which his spiritual energy melted, only for it to reappear moments later, repeating in a torturous cycle.
She nestled in his embrace, her long eyelashes trembling, clutching him tightly, completely dependent on him.
Sang Dai had always been someone who could endure. During her training, even when she broke her leg, she could prop herself up with the Zhiyu Sword and stand again.
She never showed weakness in front of others. Even when injured, she would retreat to the bamboo house in the back mountain to treat herself. Su Xuan had witnessed countless scenes of her gritting her teeth as she set her own bones.
He had gone into seclusion for over a decade, thinking that when he emerged, he would see a stronger Sang Dai. Yet, instead, what reached him was news of the demon and fiend realms joining forces to attack the immortal realm.
When he broke through his seclusion, it was already too late.
In a soft voice, Su Xuan called out, “Dai Dai…”
It was as if Sang Dai responded to him, murmuring a faint “Mm” and burrowing her fluffy head deeper into his chest.
Su Xuan gave up on the struggle within his heart. Wrapping Sang Dai tightly in the quilt, he held her—blanket and all—in his arms. His chin rested against her forehead as he inhaled the cool, delicate fragrance that lingered on the sword cultivator, forcibly suppressing his rising heat.
His heart ached unbearably.
Warm, gentle spiritual energy flowed steadily from Su Xuan to Sang Dai.
After a long while, his clear and tranquil voice filled the quiet room.
“Dai Dai, everything will pass. I won’t leave you again.”