Sang Dai is now 132 years old. She awakened her spiritual root at the age of three and was entrusted to Ying Heng for guidance.
Ying Heng possessed a Mysterious-grade spiritual root and had exceptional talent and profound skills in the way of the sword.
He had a gentle temperament, and his manner of dealing with others was like a pool of calm water. Back then, Sang Dai should not have been handed over to Ying Heng. At the time, Sang Wenzhou intended for her to enter the Disciples’ Hall, where the elders were strict and would have ensured rigorous discipline for Sang Dai.
She was destined to be the sharpest sword of the Sword Sect. She needed to grow quickly.
It was Ying Heng who personally requested Sang Dai from Sang Wenzhou.
For hundreds of years, Ying Heng had never taken a disciple. As an elder of the Sword Sect, he was the only one without disciples.
He approached Sang Wenzhou and asked the Sword Sect to entrust Sang Dai to him.
At first, Sang Wenzhou was hesitant. Ying Heng’s temperament was simply too mild, and he likely couldn’t bring himself to discipline Sang Dai harshly. Yet mastering the sword required enduring hardship.
However, at that time, three-year-old Sang Dai chose Ying Heng herself.
She entered the main hall and held onto Ying Heng’s hand.
Sang Dai became Ying Heng Immortal Sovereign’s one and only disciple. Ying Heng gave her all his affection and imparted all his lifelong knowledge to her.
Time proved that the choices made by Ying Heng and Sang Dai back then were correct.
Under Ying Heng’s guidance, Sang Dai was well taught. Her sword heart remained steadfast, and in the path of swordsmanship, she was virtually unmatched. Though holding a high position, she showed no arrogance or impatience. Although she was cold and spoke little, she was kind-hearted, steady, and immensely powerful.
“So, Su Xuan, do you think someone like my master could really be the true culprit behind the massacre at Cangwu Daoist Temple and the destruction of the Guixu Spirit Vein?”
Sang Dai leaned against the window, with Su Xuan standing beside her, shoulder to shoulder.
They were very close, their shoulders touching.
Su Xuan asked, “What do you think?”
Sang Dai did not reply.
Inside Bairen Alley, it was too dark, devoid of sunlight.
Yet it was also too bright, for the entire city was adorned with brilliant lanterns.
Sang Dai tilted her head to gaze at the brightly lit lanterns illuminating the night sky, her eyes gradually softening.
Instead of answering Su Xuan’s question, she suddenly said:
“Su Xuan, I once hated my master.”
Su Xuan asked, “Why?”
“I am the eldest daughter of the Sword Sect, yet Sang Wenzhou and Madam Shi were not close to me. Although my senior brothers and sisters took care of me, they were also distant. It was as if I was isolated from the Sword Sect, forever unable to integrate with them. Only my master stayed by my side.”
“He once told me he wouldn’t abandon me.” Sang Dai took a deep breath. “But he didn’t keep his promise, and I was left alone again.”
Ying Heng had walked away without turning back, even as Sang Dai knelt in the pouring rain that day, dragging her heavily injured body, begging him over and over not to leave.
“So you hated him?”
“I did, once.”
“I once hated him.”
Sang Dai sighed softly. “I once hated him. When I was young, I didn’t understand why my master abandoned me and left. I thought some things could clear themselves up if the truth was on your side, and proving one’s innocence would suffice. But his defection from the Sword Sect was like admitting to those accusations in another way, needlessly staining his own name.”
“Later, as I grew older and entered the mortal world, I witnessed too many injustices and inequities.”
Gradually, she began to understand Ying Heng’s actions.
Innocence is something one proves to oneself, but whether others believe it or not is left to fate.
By that time, Ying Heng had already been trapped in a dead end.
Sang Dai turned around, leaning her back against the windowsill, and looked up at Su Xuan.
“Su Xuan, I don’t know why my master hid the fact that he was a Heaven-grade spiritual root awakener, nor why he got involved in the destruction of the Guixu Spirit Vein. But as a Heaven-grade spiritual root awakener, I have the responsibility to find out the truth about why the Guixu Spirit Vein was destroyed and who massacred the Cangwu Daoist Temple. And as Ying Heng’s disciple, I must find evidence to prove his innocence.”
Su Xuan met her gaze and asked, “What if it really was Ying Heng who did it?”
Sang Dai was silent for a long time. Her expression remained calm as she stood against the backdrop of the city’s ten thousand lanterns, the light softly illuminating her jet-black hair.
What if it truly was Ying Heng?
What if the 3,000 lives of the Cangwu Daoist Temple were indeed taken by Ying Heng? What if it was Ying Heng who destroyed the Guixu Spirit Vein?
What if Ying Heng had been deceiving her all along?
Sang Dai’s long eyelashes drooped slightly. Her voice was quiet but resolute: “Then I will personally execute him.”
Su Xuan chuckled, his laughter crisp and clear. His brows relaxed as he turned around, mimicking Sang Dai’s posture by leaning lazily against the windowsill, his elbow resting casually on it.
“That’s the Sang Dai I know.”
Sang Dai was deeply affectionate and cared greatly for those around her. Even the smallest kindness shown to her would be repaid tenfold or a hundredfold.
But Sang Dai was also exceptionally rational. She understood principles; right was right, and wrong was wrong. In the face of absolute right and wrong, personal feelings had no place.
Su Xuan lowered his gaze to her and said, “Miss Sang, your eyes might have been blind, but your heart never was.”
Sang Dai smiled faintly and asked, “What do you mean?”
“If your eyes weren’t blind, how could you have been used by the Sword Sect for so many years without realizing what kind of people they are?”
Su Xuan paused for a moment before adding, “But even though your eyes were blind, your heart is as clear as a mirror.”
Sang Dai might have misjudged people, but she had never done anything wrong.
For over a hundred years of wielding her sword, everything she had done was worthy of her conscience.
[So, Dai Dai, you really are a very, very good person.]
As they gazed at each other, Su Xuan’s gentle voice echoed in Sang Dai’s sea of consciousness.
Sang Dai truly was an excellent person.
These were words he couldn’t say aloud, but in his heart, he repeated them over and over again.
Sang Dai felt her heart soften. The corners of her eyes curved slightly as she teased, “But, Your Majesty the Beast King, my blindness has been cured now. I can finally see the things I couldn’t before.”
The sword cultivator was laughing so happily, perhaps because she now knew Ying Heng was still alive, or maybe it was because of something Su Xuan had said that amused her. Either way, this usually cool and aloof person was now full of smiles in his presence.
She looked like a little fairy—absolutely stunning.
Su Xuan’s throat went dry. His gaze was locked on her, unable to move even an inch, and his voice came out slightly hoarse. “What have you seen clearly?”
Sang Dai’s eyes lowered, falling on his chest.
The Beast King liked wearing black robes. Though subdued in color, they were embroidered with bold golden patterns.
Her voice was soft, barely audible:
“The human heart.”
For example, this sworn enemy of hers wasn’t actually as cruel and bloodthirsty as the Four Realms claimed. He had a bad temper but governed the Beast Realm exceptionally well.
For example, this sworn enemy didn’t actually hate her as much as he pretended to. In fact, he liked her very, very much.
This sworn enemy of hers was actually a very, very good demon.
Su Xuan’s heartbeat sped up, pounding so hard it felt like it might break free from his chest.
In that moment, he thought Sang Dai had seen through his feelings.
His hand, hidden within his wide sleeve, clenched and unclenched repeatedly. As he floundered in panic, Sang Dai suddenly looked up, and all his unease was reflected in her eyes.
But Sang Dai didn’t expose him. Instead, she said, “Su Xuan, although I’ve said this before, I still want to say it again: thank you.”
“And also, I’m sorry.”
Su Xuan froze. “…What?”
“Thank you for helping me so much, and I’m sorry for how harsh I was toward you in the past. For the injury I gave you back then…”
Sang Dai’s gaze shifted to his shoulder. She knew there was a scar there.
When she had just stepped into the Nascent Soul stage, Su Xuan visited the Sword Sect three times in a single month. He had an infuriating way of speaking, and even someone as mild-tempered as Sang Dai was provoked into drawing her sword and stabbing him once.
She hadn’t intended to seriously harm him and thought that with Su Xuan’s constitution, he would heal quickly. But unexpectedly, the wound had left a scar.
She had seen it once before in the Beast Palace. Back then, due to her disrupted meridians, Su Xuan sometimes held her as she slept to stabilize her condition. One morning, when she woke up, she had caught sight of it.
“I didn’t do it on purpose… You were being too insufferable at the time, constantly running to the Sword Sect like you were deliberately looking for trouble.”
The sword cultivator’s voice was soft, with a hint of grumbling.
Su Xuan’s tension suddenly melted away. His heart softened as he looked at her, resisting the urge to ruffle her hair. But the mischievous side of him took over.
“Miss Sang, is your apology going to be just verbal? At that time, this lord was injured for a very long time.”
Sang Dai frowned slightly. “Was it really that serious?”
Su Xuan nodded solemnly. “Very serious—my life was nearly lost.”
[Of course, that’s a lie. You didn’t strike to kill. At the time, before I had a chance to treat the wound, the royal family began stirring up trouble, so I went off to kill a few of them instead of healing. Later, I decided to just leave the scar. After all, it was left by Dai Dai, so it doesn’t matter. This lord isn’t angry with her.]
Sang Dai: “…”
She opened her mouth but said nothing.
Su Xuan continued his act. “It hurt so much. This lord was bedridden for several days.”
Sang Dai nodded and asked in agreement, “Then should I apologize again?”
“No need. A verbal apology is useless. This lord demands revenge.”
“Then you want to stab me back?”
“This lord thinks that’s fair. Don’t move.”
Su Xuan bent down slightly, a strand of silver hair slipping off his shoulder. His long lashes fluttered.
Sang Dai really didn’t move, staring at him with her wide, round eyes.
Su Xuan reached out his hand, pressing the pad of his finger lightly against Sang Dai’s forehead, giving it a small poke.