chapter 72

Like You, Want to Be with You

Qiu Yinong had lost all will to live. She had already been dead for ten years—her desire to survive was not particularly strong.

Seeing that no matter what she said, someone still wanted to kill her, she simply closed her eyes and said, "Go ahead, kill me already."

Miss Zhan's romantic entanglements were each more terrifying than the last.

In the blink of an eye, Pei Yujing had already chased them out of the Forbidden Grounds, his figure appearing behind them.

His cold gaze locked onto Yue Zhiheng. A streak of sword energy shot toward him, forcing Yue Zhiheng to throw Qiu Yinong aside. Ice shards transformed into a whip, blocking the attack.

Only when Qiu Yinong saw Yue Zhiheng making a move to protect her did she finally breathe a sigh of relief and move to stand beside Qu Lanyue.

In an instant, she understood—this young woman was also one of Yue Zhiheng's people. Staying with them had to be the safest choice. If Miss Zhan trusted them, then she could trust them too.

Qu Lanyue was holding a Slay Life Talisman, originally intending to place it on Yue Zhiheng as planned. But now, it seemed unnecessary. The one in a more unstable state was Pei Yujing.

Pei Yujing cultivated the Path of Heartlessness, and his sword intent was usually clean and sharp. Yet today, though his strikes were filled with killing intent, their brilliance was dimmer than usual.

In his left hand, he clutched a fragment of a broken mirror, his palm already dripping with blood.

Qu Lanyue asked Qiu Yinong, "What happened in the Forbidden Grounds? Why is Pei Yujing's sword heart wavering?"

Recalling her earlier reckless words, Qu Lanyue added, "What did you say to him?"

"I don't know. He was already like that when I saw him. But I recognize the broken mirror in his hand—it came from the Forbidden Grounds. I only said one thing: that the person Miss Zhan liked wasn't him. And then he wanted to destroy my soul."

Qu Lanyue seemed thoughtful. Only by experiencing extreme joy or sorrow could one's cultivation path be affected. What had Pei Yujing gone through?

Qiu Yinong, still perplexed, asked, "Then what about Yue Zhiheng? Why did he also try to strangle me when I said Miss Zhan loved him?"

Qu Lanyue answered calmly, "He despises lies—especially those spoken in jest by others."

Qiu Yinong glanced at her palm. The vermilion mark would only appear once Zhan Yunwei's soul returned. Right now, she had no way to prove anything.

"No one believes the truth."

It was better to wait for Miss Zhan to explain herself. Words of love—only the person involved could make them truly convincing.

Qiu Yinong peeked ahead. "Which of them will win?"

Seeing that she still had the mood to watch the fight, Qu Lanyue couldn't help but chuckle. This soul that Zhan Yunwei had rescued was quite amusing—she had even boasted that she could handle Wen Xun.

"You said you came to deal with Wen Xun. Is that true?"

"Of course."

"Alright, I'll take you away from here first."

Qu Lanyue grabbed her collar, and with the flick of an umbrella, their surroundings shifted. Qiu Yinong realized they were no longer near the Forbidden Grounds.

Qiu Yinong offered flattery, "You're incredible too."

But Qu Lanyue ignored her praise. Holding her umbrella, she said, "Follow me. I'll take you to find Wen Xun. What you said better be true, or if you end up harming Zhan Yunwei's soul, even if Lord Yue spares you, he will also kill you."

Qiu Yinong muttered, "He does have faith in Miss Zhan's choices."

At least he had truly stepped in to protect her from that sword cultivator.

The two women walked through Duo'e City. Previously, the city had been filled with malevolent spirits, but now it was eerily empty.

Ever since Wen Xun went mad, he had devoured every evil spirit he encountered. They had all hidden away in fear.

Familiar sights surrounded her, gradually awakening buried memories.

Qiu Yinong felt momentarily dazed. She had spent decades living in the wilds of Duo'e City with Wen Xun.

She forced herself not to dwell on those once-warm memories, unwilling to feel any sorrow.

Qu Lanyue also noticed Qiu Yinong had fallen uncharacteristically silent—she no longer seemed as lively as before.

She didn't know much about Qiu Yinong's past, but she trusted Zhan Yunwei. If Zhan Yunwei believed in Qiu Yinong, then they might as well give her a chance.

Eventually, Qu Lanyue tracked Wen Xun to Jianhuan Tower.

Finding him wasn't difficult. The place with the densest evil energy would be where he was.

Looking up, they saw Jianhuan Tower standing cold and eerie, like a haunted building.

The entire structure was shrouded in sinister energy, exuding a chilling aura. In just a short time, Wen Xun had grown even stronger.

The blood moon cast its glow over the dark river, making the scene resemble a massive grave.

Qu Lanyue asked, "Should I send you up, or will you go yourself?"

Qiu Yinong appeared to be an ordinary spirit master, which made Qu Lanyue uneasy—she feared that Qiu Yinong might be killed by Wen Xun before even setting foot inside.

But all traces of amusement had vanished from Qiu Yinong's face. She shook her head. "I'll go myself. Just wait for me."

"Alright," Qu Lanyue said. "Remember to ask about the Hundred-Kill Lù."

Qiu Yinong didn't respond. She retrieved a blood-colored life-bound sword from her case and stepped onto Jianhuan Tower.

She had promised Miss Zhan that if she found the Hundred-Kill Lù, she wouldn't give it to anyone—she would keep it close to her heart.

Qu Lanyue watched as sinister energy swallowed Qiu Yinong's figure. Countless shadows gathered at her feet, their eerie presence oppressive, yet the moment they touched her life-bound sword, they hesitated and scattered.

The evil spirits withdrew, clearing a path. Qu Lanyue mused—how interesting.

The malevolent forces inside the tower also fell into an eerie silence, as if they had been waiting for this moment for ten years.

Qiu Yinong gripped her sword and climbed the tower step by step.

She had walked this path countless times before.

Wen Xun had always liked coming here—not to indulge in pleasures like other spirits, but to gaze at the world beyond the barrier.Jianhuan Tower was the closest place to the Spirit Realm. Within the Spirit Realm resided both the person Wen Xun loved deeply—Qiu Jingshu—and the people he hated most—his younger brother and father.

Again and again, Qiu Yinong climbed Jianhuan Tower, stubbornly yet gently taking Wen Xun's hand, leading him home.

She always feared that, in order to leave Du'e City, Wen Xun would succumb to the temptation of consuming evil spirits to grow stronger. She reassured him, "I'll nurture your sword slowly. You can grow powerful without doing that. One day, you'll leave this place and find Qiu Jingshu. She wouldn't want a mindless you, would she?"

Every day, she felt as if Wen Xun was on the verge of leaving.

But in the end, he always remained silent, following her under the blood moon, back to the mansion.

It was almost laughable—Qiu Yinong had, for a long time, regarded that mansion in Du'e City as her and Wen Xun's home. She had even carefully decorated it, making it the most Spirit Realm-like place in the entire city. She had even raised a pond full of koi fish.

Yet she knew that what truly held Wen Xun back was her last sentence: Qiu Jingshu would never accept a spirit demon.

And so, they lived together in that haunted city for years, untainted by corruption. Wen Xun never once consumed an evil spirit.

Qiu Yinong knew that to remain rational after becoming a spirit demon required an exceptionally strong will.

She often thought—if only Qiu Jingshu would come to Du'e City just once, if only she would ascend this tower a single time, Wen Xun could remain forever as the prodigious sword cultivator he once was.

If she came, Qiu Yinong might even force herself to stop resenting her sister.

But for decades, Qiu Jingshu never came.

Qiu Yinong scoffed internally, but on the surface, she continued to comfort Wen Xun, "Next year. Next year, when she's free from the Crown Prince, she'll come find you."

She didn't care whether Wen Xun believed her or not. She only wanted to save him.

For a thousand years, no one had ever reversed the transformation of a spirit demon back into a cultivator. But Qiu Yinong refused to accept that fate.

She was an optimist by nature, believing that with effort, humans could defy destiny.

As time passed, and Qiu Jingshu never arrived, Wen Xun grew harder to deceive. Every time she nurtured his sword, he would say coldly, "You can leave. You don't have to stay here."

"I won't leave," she said, smiling.

"Why?"

Qiu Yinong never told him she loved him. Her words were always half-truths, half-lies, so Wen Xun thought she was a liar.

She simply said, "I used to like you. I wanted to stay with you. But since you don't like me, I won't insist. I'm not that thick-skinned."

Wen Xun looked at her, his gaze unreadable.

She coughed, recalling something. "That time when I got drunk doesn't count. I've apologized countless times for that."

Then she added, "You became a spirit demon to protect the people of Yongning County. You saved my mother and grandmother. Reason and duty both demand that I save you in return."

After that, she never spoke of love again.

After all, Wen Xun didn't need her love. There was no reason to make herself pitiful.

Qiu Yinong had even planned it all out—if one day Wen Xun truly transformed back, regaining his cultivation roots, she would set him free. They would divorce, and she would return to the Spirit Realm to find some gentle young cultivator to live a peaceful life with. She certainly didn't want to spend her days watching him and Qiu Jingshu together—it would only drive her mad.

But before she could wait for that day, she met her end.

When the overwhelming evil aura surged, and Wen Xun disregarded everything to leave Du'e City, she finally understood—humans were insignificant. They could not defy fate.

She never even got the chance to divorce him—only the chance to die first.

No matter how many years she had spent with him, no matter how well she had hidden her love, none of it could compare to Wen Xun's longing for Qiu Jingshu.

She had never envied Qiu Jingshu.

Even though Qiu Jingshu's life had been smooth and effortless, while she had suffered endlessly, Qiu Yinong had never envied her—she had only hated her.

And in her final moments, she also hated Wen Xun.

She hated men whose hearts could never be warmed. She hated the eternal, eerie blood moon over Du'e City. She hated Wen Xun, who was neither human nor ghost, who loved Qiu Jingshu with mad obsession.

Now, as she climbed the tower step by step, she knew—her old acquaintance was waiting at the top.

The black shadows at her feet parted to make way, surging toward the depths of Jianhuan Tower.

Qiu Yinong understood—Wen Xun had recognized her.

He was waiting in the same room he had always favored, the one where he could look beyond the long, dark river and gaze at the beautiful Spirit Realm.

She stopped at the doorway, just as she had done for decades, tirelessly leading Wen Xun back home.

But she knew—today was different.

Today, she wasn't here to bring him back.

She was here to kill him.

After Wen Xun shattered King Luzun's mask, he had remained in his true, monstrous form—his strongest state, almost without weakness.

But now, as all the dark energy slowly receded, Qiu Yinong pushed open the door to find a man sitting by the window.

His sword-sharp brows and starlit eyes had not changed.

He had returned to his most vulnerable human form, staring at her in silence.

Qiu Yinong cursed inwardly—damn it.

She had forgotten so many things, but even after ten years, she still hadn't forgotten this face.

Even his voice hadn't changed in the slightest.

He spoke. "Who are you?"

Qiu Yinong smiled. "Does it matter? I hold your life-bound sword. You should know—I am the one here to kill you."

The demonic patterns on his face had spread from his brow to his entire forehead.

Everyone said he was mad now.

He had killed countless people, devoured countless evil spirits, and plundered countless treasures from Du'e City.

A demon like him should have done one of two things—either seize his sword from her or flee.

Instead, he insisted on asking her who she was.

Even if she really was Qiu Yinong, he had ignored her thousands of times before when she climbed this tower.

Could a mere ten years change anything?

But then the demon in front of her spoke again.

"It matters."

Who she was—mattered to him.

He had searched for her for ten years.

His face flickered between different features—those of the evil spirits he had devoured.

It took great effort to settle back into his own original face.

Qiu Yinong gazed at him from a distance, at the face that was now completely unrecognizable. Strangely, she no longer felt pain.

Of course. She had already died long ago.

If it had been her past self, she would have been heartbroken.

"I am Qiu Yinong."

She watched as that ever-shifting demonic face finally stabilized. Slowly, he smiled, but from his eyes, tears of deep violet fell.

"I knew it," Wen Xun whispered. "I knew you would come back."

For the first time, Qiu Yinong learned that demons could not shed tears—when they did, they fell as thick, rich violet blood.

Wen Xun asked her, "Are you here to take me home?"

She remained silent for a long time before finally saying, "Mm. Let's go."

Qiu Yinong never asked why, despite now having the power to leave, he had still remained in Du'e City instead of going to the Spirit Realm.

The Spirit Realm had everything.

Du'e City had only her rotting corpse and a homeless wandering soul.

The demon rose to his feet.

In the past, whenever she tried to take Wen Xun away from Jianhuan Tower, it had always taken endless coaxing and persuasion.

This time, he followed without hesitation.

He didn't even look back at the Spirit Realm.

Countless times, it had always been Qiu Yinong shamelessly pulling Wen Xun's hand.

But this time, it was Wen Xun who walked toward her.

She raised her hand, but instead of taking his, she drove the life-bound sword straight into his heart.

Wen Xun froze, and the demonic aura burst from his wound, unraveling beyond his control.

For a moment, the demon faltered.

Then, as if embracing her sword, he stepped closer and reached for the hand that wasn't holding the blade.

"Let's go home."

Qiu Yinong almost wanted to laugh.

And, inexplicably, she almost wanted to cry.

But she was worse off than Wen Xun—she had long since lost the ability to cry.

It had been ten years since her last tear, drained dry before her death.

The life-bound sword disintegrated as it plunged deeper into Wen Xun's heart.

Blood—deep, violet—trickled from the corner of his lips, yet he seemed unaware.

Still holding her hand, he led her down the tower.

Qiu Yinong followed.

The road home was unbearably long.

So long that they never made it out of Jianhuan Tower.

Before they could, Wen Xun's body could no longer hold itself together.

He said, "You always made sun spirit soup at home. I never drank it before. But today, I think I'd like to try it."

At last, Qiu Yinong cried.

She pressed her lips together, wanting to tell him there was no soup, not anymore.

Instead, she said softly, "Mm. You go ahead. I'll be right behind you."

The hand holding hers slowly faded away.

And she heard Wen Xun's last words in this world.

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry, Yinong.

As his figure vanished, a Hundred-Kill Register slowly surfaced in the air.

Qiu Yinong reached out and caught it.

In this world, only love and hate could never be measured.

And never be forgiven.