For the past two days, Su Xuan had been exceptionally busy, leaving early in the morning and returning only when the stars appeared at night.
Su Xuan was preoccupied with handling the affairs of the Beast Realm. With the heat period lasting a month, he had to arrange everything in the Beast Realm in advance, resolving what needed to be resolved and addressing issues ahead of time.
On Sang Dai’s side, she had also spent two consecutive days running to the Divine Healer Valley. She probably wouldn’t be able to come here for the next month, yet she was still deeply worried about Ying Heng and kept running back and forth.
She stood outside the house, waiting, while muffled groans of pain occasionally came from within. However, it seemed that Ying Heng, aware Sang Dai was outside, quickly suppressed his cries of pain.
Sang Dai waited for a long time, until the sky had turned dim.
Nangong Zhu opened the door, his face as stern as ever: “For now, I’ve helped him reshape his body. His body is too weak; even a single spirit root cannot fully integrate.”
Sang Dai hastily expressed her gratitude: “Thank you, Young Master Nangong!”
Nangong Zhu responded with a faint acknowledgment before turning to leave.
Sang Dai rushed inside, where Ying Heng was leaning against the bedframe, coughing.
“Master, are you alright?” Sang Dai patted his back gently. “Do you feel unwell anywhere?”
Noticing that his disciple had arrived, Ying Heng smiled and said, “Dai Dai, Master is fine. My meridians have recovered significantly. This pain is just part of the body reshaping process.”
Sang Dai helped him sit down.
Ying Heng smiled and asked, “You’ve spent the entire day in the Divine Healer Valley. Doesn’t the Beast King get jealous?”
Sang Dai checked his pulse and shook her head. “He wouldn’t.”
Su Xuan had great respect for Ying Heng and understood the importance of proper responsibilities.
Ying Heng’s condition had improved significantly, and his voice carried more strength.
Sang Dai felt a wave of relief and knelt halfway in front of Ying Heng. “Master, I may not be able to come see you for the next month. If you need anything, you can call on Liu Lixue.”
Understanding her meaning, Ying Heng remained silent for a moment, his ears turning slightly red. “Dai Dai, have you made up your mind?”
Sang Dai nodded. “I have. I will only be with him for the rest of my life. He has waited long enough.”
“You won’t regret it?”
“I’ll never regret it.”
Hearing this, Ying Heng smiled as well. “Dai Dai, as long as you don’t regret it, then it’s good. When you see Master again, perhaps I’ll even be able to prepare the Bond-Forming ceremony for you two.”
Sang Dai responded with a bright smile. “Alright, I’ll be waiting, Master.”
At that moment, the jade token at her waist rang.
Sang Dai picked it up, and the voice of the little fox came through.
“Dai Dai, how is the Immortal Lord doing?”
Sang Dai glanced at Ying Heng and replied, “He’s much better.”
“When are you coming back tonight?”
“I’ll head back right away.”
“What should we eat?”
“Anything is fine, you decide.”
The two chatted briefly before ending the communication through the jade token. Sang Dai had been silent for so long, and Ying Heng naturally figured out the reason.
He patted Sang Dai on the head and said, “Go back now, Dai Dai. The Beast King is still waiting for you, and Master needs to rest as well.”
Sang Dai stood up. “Master, I’ll leave now. You should rest early.”
“Alright.”
Before leaving, Sang Dai glanced at Ying Heng. He was still smiling, as if he understood that she would look back.
He really was much better.
Sang Dai curved her lips into a soft smile. If she returned in a month, she was sure she would see an even healthier Ying Heng.
—
The night wind swept through the courtyard, scattering fallen blossoms. In the deep autumn, the osmanthus flowers were gradually wilting, and a night of rain had covered the small courtyard with fallen petals.
Cui Shao, holding a broom, finished sweeping and then plucked the remaining flowers from the tree before they could fall.
Sang Dai loved osmanthus cakes, and over the years, Su Xuan had planted osmanthus trees just so he could make her a few batches of cakes each year.
Tomorrow would mark the beginning of the Sovereign Lord’s heat period, and Cui Shao thought she should make more osmanthus cakes for the two of them. That way, if Sang Dai wanted to eat during this time, there would be some ready.
She filled a small basket with osmanthus blossoms and shook it to sift out the fallen leaves. Just as she was about to finish, a gust of cold wind howled through.
The wind seemed to have its own consciousness, lifting only the fallen leaves from the basket.
Cui Shao looked over in astonishment.
Suspended in mid-air above the towering main hall stood a figure. He was not standing on the tiles of the roof but instead stepping on a dense black mist. His plain black robes swayed in the wind, his disheveled black hair flowing freely. A mask covered his face, revealing only a pale chin and a pair of shadowy, sinister eyes beneath it.
He smiled lightly and said, “It seems the Beast Realm has been doing well these past few days? She seems to have forgotten the words I once told her.”
Cui Shao’s basket fell to the ground.
She reacted quickly, intending to call for help, but the figure in the void instantly appeared in front of her.
A cold hand gripped her neck. Although he didn’t exert any force, the black mist swirling around his wrist sent a chill surging from the soles of Cui Shao’s feet, leaving her breathless and freezing.
“Little girl, I have no intention of killing you. I’m just here to deliver a message—give it to Sang Dai and make sure she takes a good look.”
The last few words were spoken deliberately, as though emphasizing the importance of this matter.
It seemed he truly was only here to deliver a message. After finishing his sentence, he slipped a piece of paper into Cui Shao’s hand. The corners of his lips curled into a faint smile before he disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Cui Shao collapsed onto the ground.
The icy touch on her neck, the suffocating sensation, and the piece of paper pressed into her palm all told her that this was no dream.
She looked at the note in her hand with terror.
She knew who that man was. As someone who served Sang Dai closely, how could she not know about the mysterious man in black who had always wanted to kill Sang Dai?
The Beast Palace was protected by Su Xuan’s barrier. No one could break in unless their cultivation level surpassed his.
And Sang Dai had once told her that there was one person without a cultivation boundary who could enter any place in the world.
That man behind the scenes—the figure in black.
Footsteps echoed outside the courtyard, and Cui Shao immediately recognized who they belonged to.
She coughed violently and looked up in a panic.
Sang Dai had just entered the courtyard when she sensed something was amiss.
The hidden smile in her expression vanished instantly, and the Zhiyu Sword left its sheath without hesitation.
Cui Shao scrambled to her feet, crawling and stumbling. “Madam!”
Sang Dai immediately pulled her behind her. “He’s here?”
Cui Shao clutched her neck with both hands, gasping. “Yes… no, he—he’s already gone!”
Indeed, there was no trace of his presence left in the courtyard.
Sang Dai frowned and turned back to examine the red marks on Cui Shao’s neck.
She quickly used her spiritual energy to help soothe Cui Shao’s breathing.
Cui Shao glanced nervously behind Sang Dai. “Madam, where is the Sovereign Lord?”
Sang Dai replied, “He went to handle matters in the Beast Palace and hasn’t returned yet. Why?”
Cui Shao handed the note in her hand to Sang Dai. “This is what he left behind. He said to give this to you and to make sure you look at it carefully.”
Sang Dai took the note and unfolded it.
Cui Shao’s gaze was tense, and she keenly sensed the drop in the surrounding pressure. Sang Dai’s expression turned grim, the warmth in her eyes replaced by an unmistakable chill.
“Madam?”
Sang Dai put the note away and gently patted Cui Shao’s head. “You can go now. I’ve removed the black qi from your body. Take a pill and rest for the night.”
She handed Cui Shao a bottle of pills.
“But Madam—”
“Cui Shao, I’ll handle this.”
Sang Dai’s tone was firm. Having said so, it was clear to Cui Shao what Sang Dai meant.
She nodded hesitantly. “Yes, Madam.”
Cui Shao turned and left.
Sang Dai gathered the scattered bamboo basket from the courtyard, then sat by the stone table in the courtyard to wait.
After midnight passed, a certain little fox, having finished his day’s work, finally returned late.
As soon as he stepped through the door, he saw Sang Dai sitting with her back to him in the courtyard. The sword cultivator hadn’t prepared tea for herself.
The little fox raised a brow and walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Dai Dai, were you waiting for me? Let me wash my hands and cook something for you, alright? Tomorrow’s my estrus period. Let’s go to Zhenhua Crossing tomorrow afternoon.”
Sang Dai’s voice was calm. “Sit down. I need to talk to you about something.”
Su Xuan knew her well. It had been a long time since Sang Dai had spoken to him in this tone. The mischievous smile on the little fox’s face disappeared.
“Dai Dai?”
He sat across from Sang Dai, his expression restrained, even his voice sounding more serious.
Sang Dai asked, “Su Xuan, what have you and Liu Lixue been busy with?”
Su Xuan’s gaze darkened. “Dai Dai, who told you something?”
Sang Dai continued, “Or let me ask another question. The truth behind the extermination of the Weisheng clan—can you tell me about it?”
Su Xuan’s expression turned completely cold. “Dai Dai, who told you this?”
It couldn’t be Liu Lixue. Liu Lixue would never reveal such things. But only he and Liu Lixue knew about this…
No. That wasn’t right.
“He came?” Su Xuan’s face darkened further. “What did he tell you?”
Sang Dai simply looked at him quietly and asked, “Su Xuan, do you know the truth behind the extermination of the Weisheng clan?”
Su Xuan’s long lashes trembled. “I… Dai Dai…”
What could he say?
Could he say that the Weisheng clan was exterminated because of Sang Dai? That the calamity that befell the entire Weisheng clan was brought upon them because of her?
Or was it that Sang Dai’s connection to Four Sufferings would lead to the entire Four Realms hunting her down? Everyone by her side, anyone standing on the same side as her, would become targets of the Four Realms?
A long time ago, the sword cultivator had held him and wept bitterly, asking him why she was left all alone, what she had done to deserve it.
She had done nothing wrong.
But if Sang Dai learned the truth, she would blame herself for everything.
Su Xuan turned his head away. “I don’t know, Dai Dai. I only know the destruction of the Weisheng clan is related to Four Sufferings. What that man said may not be true. Liu Lixue and I are still investigating.”
Sang Dai’s voice was calm. “But Su Xuan, that man didn’t tell me the truth about the destruction of the Weisheng clan. How do you know what he said isn’t true? Do you know the truth?”
Su Xuan’s hand on his knee curled slightly.
The little fox’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, as if breathing had become difficult.
Facing off against Sang Dai, whoever panicked first would lose. It was obvious—Su Xuan had already lost.
They knew each other too well; one sentence could expose a flaw.
Sang Dai spread the note out on the table.
It contained only a few lines:
—Why don’t you ask your dear husband and that Young Master Liu what they are discussing? I told Su Xuan the truth about the destruction of the Weisheng clan. It seems you didn’t hear it clearly at the time.
When Su Xuan had undergone his tribulation, Sang Dai had rushed to find him. Seeing that man then, she hadn’t paid attention to his words—her mind had been filled with the image of Su Xuan kneeling silently, as if lifeless.
Now that she thought about it, before leaving, that man had indeed said something:
—Sang Dai, I told Su Xuan the truth about the destruction of the Weisheng clan. If you want to know, ask him.
She hadn’t heard that clearly and hadn’t asked about it afterward. So, the man had come in person, as if determined to make her aware of it.
The little fox grew flustered. “Dai Dai, listen to me. I’ll give you the most accurate answer. What he said might not be true.”
Sang Dai narrowed her eyes slightly. “Su Xuan, I didn’t say anything. What are you afraid of?”
Su Xuan’s lips moved. He grasped Sang Dai’s hand and spoke softly. “Dai Dai, I would never hide anything from you. Just give me some time—I’ll find out everything.”
What he truly needed was time to verify whether it was true or false.
If true, he would find the gentlest way to tell her.
If false, he could then openly reassure Sang Dai:
—The destruction of the Weisheng clan has nothing to do with you. The people around you won’t die because of you.
Sang Dai cared too much about emotions. Anyone who treated her well, she would protect with her life.
If her parents had died because of her, if her entire clan had been destroyed because of her, and if her connection to Four Sufferings meant that everyone around her would fall into peril, how could he possibly tell her these things?
Sang Dai lowered her gaze and remained silent for a long time—so long that Su Xuan began to feel a trace of fear.
Then she suddenly spoke. “Su Xuan.”
“I’m here.”
“How many days did your tribulation last?”
Su Xuan: “I… Dai Dai…”
Sang Dai lifted her gaze to him. “How many days?”
Su Xuan didn’t dare meet her eyes at all. He quickly turned his head away and replied in a low voice, “Three days.”
Sang Dai asked, “Are you certain it was three days and not a quarter of an hour?”
For most cultivators, a tribulation typically lasts several days.
But for someone targeted by the Heavenly Dao, it’s different. The tribulation strikes one bolt after another, giving the cultivator no chance to recover or heal.
“When I arrived, you had already finished your tribulation. Liu Lixue told me it lasted three days. I’m asking now—was it truly three days?”
Su Xuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his lips moving for a few moments, but he couldn’t find his voice.
“Su Xuan, how many days?”
Su Xuan finally murmured hoarsely, “…It was really three days.”
He couldn’t let Sang Dai know that the Heavenly Dao wanted him dead as well. Su Xuan had become one of the Heavenly Dao’s targets.
Anyone who sought to help Sang Dai would be marked for death by the Heavenly Dao.
Sang Dai suddenly laughed. “Fine, three days then. I’m tired and want to sleep.”
She turned and walked toward the house, leaving Su Xuan alone in the courtyard.
The little fox stared helplessly at her retreating figure. He could tell she was angry. He was genuinely afraid of Sang Dai being angry. He sat in the courtyard for a long time, watching until the lights in the main hall went out.
Su Xuan waited a little longer, but hearing no movement from inside, he couldn’t help himself and cautiously stepped forward to push the door open.
Standing at the doorway, he saw nothing but darkness inside, the bed curtains drawn down.
The little fox called out softly, “Dai Dai.”
No one answered him.
Now truly afraid, he walked into the room, noticing nothing unusual at first. He stopped in front of the bed curtains and called again, “Dai Dai, I was wrong. I’ll tell you everything. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
Still, no one responded.
Panic fully set in. He lifted the bed curtains and threw himself onto the bed.
“My dear Dai Dai, I was really wrong. I’ll tell you everything, okay?”
The little fox hit nothing but empty space.
He blinked a few times, and realizing what was happening, suddenly stood up and lit the luminous pearl.
The bed was completely empty. Last night, they had slept here together, but now, all that was left was the neatly arranged bedding.
Before she left, Sang Dai had even smoothed the blankets for him.
If she hadn’t left the Nine-Ring Hairpin on the pillow, he might have thought that his Dai Dai had just stepped out for a walk.
Su Xuan rushed to the window, lifted it open, and looked outside—there was a trail of footprints leading away.
Sang Dai had already left.
Su Xuan suddenly shut the window, his hands trembling as he fumbled for the jade token, his breath coming in rapid, uneven gasps.
Liu Lixue was jolted awake from his sleep.
“Sovereign Lord?”
The voice on the jade token was frantic: “Liu Lixue, Dai Dai doesn’t want me anymore!”
Liu Lixue: “…”
Author’s Note:
It’s impossible to have a tragic ending! Dai Dai is doing this on purpose. Little Su actually dared to lie to her—she’s definitely going to make him pay! This letter is a massive assist! Dai Dai is so strong, so she’ll show Little Su that they can fight side by side. Dai Dai can handle all of this on her own. From now on, Dai Dai and Little Su will be a completely open-hearted couple, the two most trusted people for each other—both are strong, and the future is bright.