During the day, Su Xuan always left, and at night he returned under the stars, transforming into the little fox to rest beside her.
Each day, his eyes grew dimmer, his killing intent heavier. Inner demons tormented him, yet the hatred and thirst for vengeance fueled his cultivation to ever-greater heights.
Sang Dai felt like an outsider, separated by an invisible barrier, forced to watch Su Xuan’s suffering, his despair, and a century of his life passing by.
For a hundred years after her death, Su Xuan kept vigil by her side every single day.
Though he loved warmth, he lived in the freezing chamber for the sake of her corpse, sleeping by her side day after day.
Only the cold could preserve her body from decay.
Yet he remembered that she feared the cold, so he would turn into the little fox to guard her, even though he couldn’t warm her.
He lived a hundred years in this contradiction—filled with despair, pain, and regret.
At the end of the hundredth year, one day, the corpse on the ice bed turned to white bones.
It was as if the body had a consciousness of its own, choosing to destroy itself, so he wouldn’t continue torturing himself this way.
After a long day, Su Xuan returned under the stars, pulled back the bead curtain, and saw the white bones on the ice bed.
He stood silently, staring at them for a long time, saying nothing. He was so still it was as if life had left him entirely.
Sang Dai, watching from the side, tried again and again to touch him, but each time her hand passed through his figure.
A soft laugh suddenly broke the silence.
Su Xuan laughed. He covered his eyes and burst into loud, hysterical laughter, his body bending forward, his spine hunched. Sang Dai saw his tears fall, drop by drop, onto the cold floor tiles.
He coughed violently, spitting out mouthfuls of blood. Outside the hall, Liu Lixue rushed in.
The once carefree peacock had matured greatly over the years of battle, shedding his former recklessness.
Liu Lixue looked at the white bones on the ice bed, his strength draining as he staggered back a few steps, leaning against the wall, his eyes filled with despair.
“Master…”
It was over. Everything was over.
Su Xuan smashed a candlestick in the room, pointing at the white bones on the ice bed as he wept and roared: “You didn’t leave me even a shred of hope! Alive, you wouldn’t look at me, and dead, you refuse to stay by my side. What did I do? Why do you hate me so much?!”
“Sang Dai, what do I owe you? What do I owe you?!”
“What gives you the right to treat me like this?! What gives you the right, Sang Dai?!”
Sang Dai cried aloud, rushing forward to embrace his waist. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Su Xuan, I’m truly sorry.”
But he couldn’t hear her. He kept crying to the remains on the ice bed, his voice hoarse with grief.
And she couldn’t hold him.
Su Xuan cried until he was coughing up blood, frantically driving Liu Lixue out of the room. But after everyone left, he sat quietly inside for the entire night, keeping vigil beside the white bones on the bed.
Sang Dai cried all night, watching him sit motionless as though he were dead, even though he was still alive.
At dawn, he stood up, changed into a new set of clothes, and used a wooden hairpin to tie up his waist-length silver hair.
He stood by the ice bed for a long time.
Then, Su Xuan raised his hand indifferently, summoning a blaze of Hellfire that engulfed the entire main hall, reducing Sang Dai’s remains to ashes along with it.
He turned and left the Beast Palace.
He went to the Immortal Realm, to the back mountain of the Sword Sect.
On the anniversary of her death, he brought a pot of wine and perished at the hands of Shen Ciyu and the Heavenly Dao.
Sang Dai knelt on the ground, covering her face with her hands.
Because her remains were destroyed, he could no longer hold on, and all hope for life left him.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
Truly, she was sorry.
Everything flickered like a passing vision, appearing and then fading away.
The osmanthus imprint reappeared before her, its light still radiant.
She heard the hollow voice pierce through the illusions and reach her ears.
“Four Sufferings poison the soul; the Guixu shall collapse. Awakener of a Heaven-grade spiritual root, what path have you chosen?”
The Four Sufferings will ultimately erode the Guixu, and the four realms will eventually fall to ruin.
Where was her path?
She had once believed her path was to protect the Immortal Realm, even if it meant dying for the sake of all living beings. That was her responsibility.
She was an awakener of a Heaven-grade spiritual root, born to put the lives of others before her own.
For the Immortal Realm, she had repeatedly rejected Su Xuan. For the Immortal Realm, she lost her life—and his.
She blindly devoted herself to the Immortal Realm, daring only to investigate Ying Heng’s matters in secret.
Ling Yin had told her that she would be surrounded and killed in the Guixu, her Heaven-grade spiritual root extracted.
Ling Yin had also said that even if the old destiny was changed, the new one would still demand her death.
But if she died, Su Xuan wouldn’t survive either, and no one would be left to search for Ying Heng. The people she cared about would all face tragic ends.
Sang Dai lowered her hands from her face.
She raised her head, gazing at the faint osmanthus imprint glowing in the darkness.
It had shown her so much; it seemed to know everything.
The golden imprint began to waver and blur.
She saw a refined face—dressed in flowing white robes, black hair tied with a simple wooden hairpin.
“Dai Dai, you’ve grown up.”
That face faded away.
She then saw another face—clad in black robes embroidered with noble golden threads, bold and strikingly handsome.
“Dai Dai, I’ll wait for you to return.”
That voice had asked her many times:
—Awakener of a Heaven-grade spiritual root, what path have you chosen?
Sang Dai’s lips curved slightly, and she whispered softly, “My path…”
She slowly stood up, the osmanthus imprint merging into her forehead. Powerful Guixu energy surged through her meridians.
“Is by my side.”
Not the Immortal Realm, not the masses, not the responsibility of being an awakener of a Heaven-grade spiritual root.
The world had wronged her. The four realms would inevitably seek her life.
She had once heeded Ying Heng’s words, believing her sword must be a shield for others, that she should die for their sake, sacrificing her life to protect them.
That burden had crushed both her and Ying Heng.
But someone had once told her, “Sang Dai, no one is more important than you.”
She and Ying Heng had both been wrong about their paths.
They needed to live first, to protect the people they loved, and only then could they protect others. She shouldn’t have to die. If someone wanted to kill her, she should pick up her sword and fight to survive.
Even if, in the end, she faced the combined forces of the four realms, she would fight with everything she had.
If someone wanted to kill her, she would kill them—regardless of their position.
Sang Dai opened her eyes. The final bolt of tribulation lightning had been brewing in the clouds for a long time.
She stood up and picked up the Zhiyu Sword, which stood before her.
With the hilt in her grasp, the Guixu spiritual power coursed through her meridians and into the Zhiyu Sword.
The blade became enveloped with immense spiritual power, and the Illusionary Killing Formation had already been shattered by the thunderbolts.
Sang Dai looked up, her face devoid of emotion.
Beyond the clouds, it felt as if a pair of eyes was watching her.
“I must survive, so—”
At that moment, the tribulation lightning struck.
Sang Dai raised her sword and pointed it directly at the lightning, powerful Guixu energy flowing from the Tianyu Stone across the sword’s blade.
She swung the sword downward, the blade’s light transforming into a massive shadow that obscured the sky. The chilling sword shadow clashed with the massive bolt of tribulation lightning.
“I must kill you.”
The sword’s light collided with the lightning, halting it mid-air. The luminescent blue sword light suddenly burst, wrapping itself around the entire bolt of tribulation lightning.
The once-lethal lightning, which sought to end Sang Dai’s life, lost all its killing intent. The bolt crashed down from the sky, coiling itself around the Zhiyu Sword’s blade, crackling with purple electricity.
Sang Dai held the sword with one hand, her phoenix-like eyes cold and sharp.
“Your lightning—I’ll return it to you.”
She pressed her wrist downward. The resulting force shook the heavens and the earth, causing the ground to collapse in waves, and disciples within a radius of dozens of li fell unconscious in unison.
Ying Heng, kneeling, coughed up a mouthful of blood, while Tan Huai struggled to maintain the protective barrier that shielded them both.
Tan Huai forced himself to look toward the sky.
Beneath the dense clouds, a bolt of lightning erupted from the ground upward. The lightning was entirely purple, intertwined with the luminous blue sword light. The thunderous roar tore through the darkness, and a single strike shattered the thick, oppressive clouds.
The dense clouds were dispersed.
Tan Huai’s pupils contracted sharply, disbelief written across his face as he stared into the distance without blinking.
He wasn’t mistaken.
Sang Dai…
had split the heavens.
Ying Heng climbed onto the Chunying Sword. “Take me to Dai Dai. Take me to her.”
By the time Tan Huai turned around, Ying Heng was already gone, leaving behind only rubble and debris scattered across the ground.
Sang Dai leapt out of the crater.
Spiritual power surged through her meridians. Her clothing was in tatters, soaked with blood, and only a single nine-ring hairpin on her head remained intact.
The Zhiyu Sword buzzed and trembled, its sword intent still lingering in the air.
Sang Dai’s heart was calm.
The pair of eyes in the heavens above had not completely disappeared, silently watching her.
Sang Dai tightened her grip on the Zhiyu Sword.
“Wait for me. One day, I’ll personally cut you down.”
She had to live. She had to use this sword to protect herself and those she cared about. The so-called duty of being an awakener of a Heaven-grade spiritual root was meaningless to her. Baseless responsibilities held no weight compared to her own life. She couldn’t die for anyone else.
She had to survive.
She had to slay the heavens.
If the Heavenly Dao was unjust, if the four realms betrayed her, if all living beings rejected her, then she would use this sword to sever the Great Dao of the world and break through with bloodshed.
She would slay evil spirits, cut through injustice, and, if necessary, destroy the Heavenly Dao itself.
As the dark clouds dispersed, sunlight pierced through the darkness and fell upon Sang Dai.
She withdrew her gaze indifferently, ready to leave and search for her little fox. But in that shaft of sunlight, she saw a white-robed sword cultivator flying toward her.
He couldn’t see. Upon landing, he stumbled and rushed in her direction.
In that moment, Sang Dai blinked.
She thought she was dreaming.
But the pain in her body reminded her that this was no dream.
Just moments ago, she had felt full of strength, but at the sight of him, it was as if all her strength drained away.
The sword in her hand fell to the ground.
Her breathing became labored.
Her legs stiffly took a step forward.
One step. Two steps. Three steps.
Then faster and faster, until she broke into a run, stumbling and falling, only to get up again quickly.
She ran into his arms, holding him tightly, inhaling the sharp scent of blood on him.
Just now, she had been telling herself to endure.
Endure the pain. Endure the despair. Endure the tears.
She only has herself now. She could only rely on herself. There was no one behind her.
But as she embraced him and heard his bewildered voice call out:
“Dai Dai…”
Sang Dai broke into uncontrollable sobs, all the grievances of the past years pouring out.
“Master…”
—
Author’s Note:
As for Hua Ling’s child—does anyone still remember? Back when Su, Dai Dai, and Tan Huai first visited the Ghost Market, there was a child who bumped into Tan Huai and said someone in their family had gone mad. That child was actually Hua Ling’s! It was actually Hua Ling’s plan all along to use him to deliver the message~