The first time Ying Heng saw Sang Dai, she was still swaddled in her infancy.
Ying Heng knew that Sang Dai was not Sang Wenzhou’s biological daughter. As a Sword Sect elder, Ying Heng was privy to these matters.
At that time, Sang Wenzhou brought Sang Dai back when she was less than a month old. Having been left in the ice and snow for an extended time, her small face was pale and bloodless.
The people of the Sword Sect remarked that it was a miracle—such a tiny child surviving so long in the snow without dying. Around her neck hung a plaque inscribed with the character “Sang,” which the sect interpreted as fate.
When it came time to name the child, Sang Wenzhou intended to choose a name casually, but Ying Heng, who had been sitting silently in the corner, suddenly stepped forward.
He was the youngest elder in the Sword Sect and also the one with the highest cultivation among them. He had eliminated hundreds of malevolent entities for the sect, and his status was far above that of ordinary elders. Even Sang Wenzhou, the sect leader, held him in high regard.
As Ying Heng approached, Sang Wenzhou handed the child to him.
Awkwardly holding Sang Dai, Ying Heng saw that she hadn’t opened her eyes yet. Her features, at the time, gave no hint of the beauty they would one day possess.
When he reached out to touch her tiny face, she smacked her lips as if she were sleeping soundly.
Ying Heng’s eyes reddened slightly, and he smiled as he said, “Let’s call her Sang Dai.”
The character “Dai” was a name Bai Yu had once mentioned to him. Sang Dai’s formal name would be Weisheng Sang, while her informal name would be Ah Dai.
Ying Heng chose for her the childhood name Bai Yu had once suggested.
The Immortal Lord Ying Heng, who had always resided atop Tianque Mountain, no longer ventured down to train as often. Unless there was severe turmoil caused by malevolent forces, he practically stayed at the Sword Sect.
During Sang Dai’s first three years at the Sword Sect, Ying Heng personally taught her how to walk for the first time. The first words she spoke weren’t “Father” or “Mother,” but “Uncle Ying.”
Everyone in the Sword Sect knew that the gentle and kind Immortal Lord Ying Heng was very fond of Sang Dai. They assumed it was just an elder doting on a younger generation. But when Sang Dai awakened a Heaven-grade spiritual root at the age of three, and Sang Wenzhou sought a master for her, things changed.
The Immortal Lord Ying Heng, who had not taken a disciple in hundreds of years, personally stepped forward and requested to take Sang Dai as his apprentice.
His stance was resolute, but Sang Wenzhou hesitated.
Ying Heng’s temperament was too mild. Sang Dai was meant to become the Sword Sect’s sharpest blade, and Ying Heng seemed ill-suited to mold her into such a figure.
However, the three-year-old Sang Dai entered the grand hall, walked directly to Ying Heng’s side, and clutched the hem of his robe. The little girl, whose head barely reached above Ying Heng’s knee, said in her tender voice, “I want Uncle Ying.”
Thus, Sang Dai became Ying Heng’s disciple.
Ying Heng moved down from Tianque Mountain and found a place to live on Yujian Peak within the Sword Sect. Sang Dai lived with him, and Ying Heng raised her almost like his own daughter.
The Sword Sect believed that Immortal Lord Ying Heng’s gentle nature would make him a poor teacher for their young lady.
In truth, if any other elder had raised Sang Dai, she might never have achieved what she did.
Sang Dai resembled Ying Heng in many ways. She was kind, gentle, and good-natured, yet her character was tenacious. Her hand never wavered when holding a sword, and her sword intent remained resolute under all circumstances.
By the time she was less than ten years old, Sang Dai had already established her sword heart. As a mere young girl, she climbed the Sword Pavilion alone to select a sword. The world’s number one sword, Zhiyu, unsheathed itself in response.
At ten, Sang Dai had reached a level that others could not achieve even at the age of one hundred.
Every year on her birthday, Ying Heng would prepare a feast for his disciple, allow her to take two days off to play in the mortal world, and present her with a unique birthday gift.
Except for the year she turned ten.
That year was the only exception.
He missed Sang Dai’s tenth birthday and never managed to make it to another one again.
Now, more than a hundred years had passed.
Ying Heng could no longer see anything, lost in illusions and darkness, yet his mind was filled entirely with Sang Dai’s face.
He couldn’t imagine what Sang Dai looked like as an adult. In his memory, she was still that little girl, wearing her training robes and bowing to him.
“Master.”
Master.
Master, don’t go.
Master, don’t leave Dai Dai.
Master, master, master.
Ying Heng clutched his chest, suddenly spitting out a large mouthful of clotted blood. The thick black blood splattered onto his white robe, his long black hair falling loosely, swaying with his violent coughing.
Kneeling on the ground, Ying Heng used one hand to support himself while the other pressed against his chest. Blood dangled precariously from his chin, threatening to fall but not quite doing so.
In a corner, the black-clad young man sat leaning against the wall, chewing on candy like it was sunflower seeds and swallowing it down. Watching Ying Heng’s despairing appearance, he couldn’t understand.
So what if it’s been over a hundred years since you last saw your disciple? So what if you’ve lost your spiritual root? So what if you’ve lost all five senses? Is that worth crying like this?
A man over five hundred years old, now sobbing like a child, with large teardrops falling one by one.
“Dai Dai…”
The black-clad youth, thoroughly irritated, got up and moved closer, intending to knock him out. At least then the person he had just saved wouldn’t cry himself to death.
But as he approached, Ying Heng’s choked voice reached his ears.
“Master was wrong… it’s Master’s fault…”
“Dai Dai, I shouldn’t have left you. Dai Dai, it’s all Master’s fault…”
Those same words repeated over and over. The black-clad youth, who had been happily chewing on candy, now felt that the sweetness had turned cloying and irritating.
Frowning deeply, he looked at Ying Heng, who knelt on the ground, coughing up blood while crying uncontrollably.
“Hey, isn’t this a bit much?”
He sent a message telepathically.
Ying Heng didn’t respond, as if he had suffered a tremendous blow.
The black-clad youth swallowed the crushed candy in his mouth and leaned against the wall, communicating with Ying Heng via voice transmission.
“Your disciple is alive and well. Why are you crying like you’re mourning her?”
At last, Ying Heng reacted.
Not knowing where the person speaking stood, unable to see or hear, his gaze unfocused, falling on a random spot.
“Dai Dai… Where is Dai Dai?”
“She’s currently in Linglong Town.”
“Is… is she doing well?”
“Um, I guess she’s doing okay?”
“I guess… The Sword Sect didn’t treat her well, did they?”
“The Sword Sect? How could they possibly treat her well? She’s not Sang Wenzhou’s biological daughter. She ends up fighting for the sect ten times a month, and during the great battle four months ago, her Golden Core shattered. The Sword Sect just left her on the battlefield.”
Ying Heng hurriedly asked, “How is she now?”
“She’s not dead, made it to the Grand Ascension stage, but she betrayed the Immortal Realm and went to the Beast Realm.”
“The… Beast Realm?”
“Yeah, she’s now the Beast Queen.”
“The Beast Queen?” Ying Heng was completely stunned. When he recalled who the Beast King was, he couldn’t even bother coughing and stammered, “The Beast King… That won’t do. Su Xiu is over a thousand years old with countless concubines. How can Dai Dai—”
“What are you thinking?” The black-clad young man looked surprised. “That Beast King, Su Xuan, is only about a hundred years old, just one year older than Sang Dai. Su Xiu is dead.”
“Su… Su Xuan?”
Ying Heng, having been asleep for too long, struggled to piece things together. For a moment, he couldn’t recall who that name referred to.
When it clicked, he was shocked. “Isn’t Su Xuan the Beast King’s seventh son, the one who awakened the Heaven-grade fire spiritual root? Why would he be connected to Dai Dai?”
The black-clad youth popped another piece of candy into his mouth. Speaking with his words muffled by the candy, he said, “I don’t know. Back on the battlefield, Su Xuan was the one who saved her.”
“…Is she doing well now?”
“Who knows if it’s good or bad? But it’s better than being in the Immortal Realm. After all, your Immortal Alliance issued a bounty on her life. If she hadn’t reached the Grand Ascension stage herself, and if the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan hadn’t helped her with their Soul-Seizing Technique, she’d probably have been hunted down to her death.”
The simple words, though spoken lightly, felt like swords piercing into Ying Heng’s heart.
He had always known that after he left, Sang Dai’s situation in the Sword Sect would never be good. No one else would stand against the sect to protect her in secret. Yet why did he leave back then?
He couldn’t remember. His head throbbed in pain, and his mounting anger and sorrow caused him to cough up blood again and again.
The black-clad youth, growing irritated by the scene, tossed him a qiankun pouch. “I stole these elixirs. I don’t know which one you should take. Pick one yourself.”
But Ying Heng, having lost all five senses, couldn’t choose. He didn’t take any of the pills and instead forcibly suppressed his coughing.
He staggered to his feet and made to leave, but the black-clad youth stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Dai Dai.”
“You can’t go.”
Ying Heng halted. “…Why not?”
The black-clad youth crossed his arms and said coldly, “You’re the one who abandoned her back then. You can’t even remember why now, so why are you looking for her? If the two of you could meet, you wouldn’t have left her in the first place.”
Ying Heng was at a loss.
He knew the young man was right. If he had truly left Sang Dai on his own accord, there must have been an unavoidable reason—something that prevented him from staying by her side.
Now, unable to recall why he had left her, rushing to her side might bring her even more trouble.
Ying Heng groped around until he found a rock and sat down.
He, who had once shaken the Nine Provinces of the Immortal Realm with a single sword, was now left without a spiritual root, his spiritual power exhausted, and all five senses gone.
He couldn’t even see his own disciple if he wanted to.
For the first time, he felt so lost, with no idea what lay ahead. He didn’t know how Sang Dai was doing now. He desperately wanted to see her, but he was also afraid to face her.
It was as if he had just woken from a long dream. The little girl who used to only reach his waist had grown up, gotten married, and started her own family.
Would Sang Dai blame him? Hate him? Would she still acknowledge him?
The black-clad youth lazily sent a message to him, “Your memory is probably scrambled because of the loss of your spiritual root and the severe injuries to your body.”
Ying Heng couldn’t even remember who had taken his spiritual root.
But the youth gave him the answer.
Casually, he said, “Oh, I’m the one who took your spiritual root.”
Ying Heng blinked, his empty gaze turning toward the source of the voice.
The black-clad youth met his unfocused stare across the void, chewing on a piece of candy as he spoke, “I can tell you what I know. Ying Heng, I saved you at someone’s request. I have my own reasons for doing so. You owe me your life, and you must help me accomplish what I need to do.”
“If you refuse, I can kill you.”
Ying Heng was silent for a long time.
After what seemed like an eternity, a hoarse voice echoed in the quiet cave.
“Alright.”
—
Just past noon, Sang Dai woke up.
Su Xuan was still holding her with his eyes closed, seemingly not fully awake yet. The little fox’s long eyelashes made him look peaceful as he slept.
Sang Dai poked his nose.
The little fox frowned.
Sang Dai pinched his nose.
The little fox opened his eyes and glared fiercely at the mischievous sword cultivator.
“Su Xuan, we—”
Before she could finish her sentence, he flipped over and pressed her down.
One hand cradled the back of Sang Dai’s head while the other cupped her cheek, tilting her face up as the little fox kissed her.
Dazed and flustered, Sang Dai was pinned to the bed and kissed for what felt like a long time. Only when the silver thread trailing from her chin was wiped away did she manage to catch her breath. The little fox licked her lips.
“You interrupted my sleep, so I had to get even.”
Sang Dai: “…”
He really held a grudge.
The little fox lay on his side, gazing at her, smiling happily.
【That kiss felt amazing.】
Sang Dai: “…”
【So soft, everywhere is soft, smells so good. I love kissing Dai Dai. I want to kiss her more.】
Sang Dai: “………”
【Just a little more kissing, maybe her ears next.】
Sang Dai pulled the quilt over herself. “Su Xuan!”
Su Xuan rested the back of his hand over his eyes and laughed muffledly, his chest vibrating with his amusement. Even Sang Dai, curled up under the quilt, could feel the tremor of his laughter.