chapter 82

"We all are just fulfilling the original promise."

The Spirit Emperor lifted his head.

The girl walked toward him, and the chaos parted before her, as if it were in fear. Upon closer inspection, however, it was not dispersing but rather being absorbed into her body.

All the remaining power of the Spirit Emperor, mixed with that drop of divine blood, had originally been meant to keep a chaotic domain, the last piece of territory that belonged to him.

As long as his soul did not disperse, he would still be the king of this chaotic land.

But now, all of it was rushing into her body.

The people and spiritual cultivators who had not managed to escape the chaotic land—those who were just awakening from their dreamlike state—found themselves standing once again under the sunlight.

More and more people stood up, and the sky grew brighter.

The Spirit Emperor looked at the backlit, gradually becoming clearer face, unsure of what expression to make.

He sneered, "Ling Xi, you think that by doing this, you can watch me fall? Let me tell you, I was never wrong. The mistake was yours, the Changyin Clan's, and yours alone for betraying me."

"You've mistaken the person," the girl spoke.

She came even closer, and only then did the Spirit Emperor realize that she was not the person from his memories.

It had been so long that the face of that person had become blurry in his mind. He had only mistaken her because of the slight resemblance in her eyes and expression.

He heard Zhan Yunwei's words and finally understood her identity—Ling Yang.

The Spirit Emperor coldly looked at Zhan Yunwei.

In his mind, the scene from 3,600 years ago flashed—when Ling Yang of the Changyin Clan had just been born. On the lotus platform, the little girl opened her black-grape-like eyes, and the clan members cheered. The High Priest personally placed holy water on her forehead.

The holy water blossomed on her brow like a spring flower, with silver stars dotting its edges.

Ling Xi held her daughter tightly, her smile soft and gentle.

At that time, the Spirit Emperor... had not yet been the Spirit Emperor. He was just the young master of the Xianqin Clan, called Fan Yan. He watched from a distance as Ling Xi married and gave birth to a daughter, his expression unreadable.

After being reminded by his clan members, he covered the bitterness in his eyes and approached, smiling as he offered his congratulations.

Ling Xi held her daughter even tighter, staring at him coldly.

"Fan Yan, what do you want?"

Fan Yan thought he had forgotten all those past events, but now, recalling it, he could clearly see his own expression at that time, as well as Ling Xi's anxiety and contempt.

He smiled gently, a slight hurt in his demeanor, deceiving her with words, saying that he had already let go and would never harm her flesh and blood.

The Xianqin Clan quickly came forward to apologize, bringing along the small spiritual lock his father had instructed him to carry.

Fan Yan, with his noble identity, was someone the Changyin Clan could not kill on the spot, even though they hated him. Killing him would spark a war between the two clans.

Ling Xi coldly regarded him, remaining silent.

Fan Yan's gaze swept over the baby in her arms—a fair and beautiful little girl, whose eyes bore a resemblance to her mortal father's. But she still inherited the bloodline of the Changyin Clan and had passed the holy water's recognition. She was destined to be the next Holy Maiden, the ruler of the Spiritual Realm.

In his heart, Fan Yan thought with a tinge of regret—what a pity, he hadn't killed that mortal earlier, or else this sinful child wouldn't have been born.

That young prime minister never begged for mercy from him, and till the end, he waited for his beloved wife, Ling Xi, to return.

The depth of his affection made Fan Yan laugh bitterly.

Over the years, Fan Yan never felt he had done anything wrong. He just didn't understand how he and Ling Xi had ended up like this.

The ancient bloodlines, passed down to their generation, had dwindled to only two major clans: the Changyin Clan and the Xianqin Clan. To preserve the purity of the bloodline, the two clans often intermarried.

Fan Yan had known from a young age that his wife was the future Holy Maiden of the Changyin Clan, living on the Divine Mountain, destined to become the ruler of the three realms.

At that time, the Holy Maiden was already a graceful young girl, while Fan Yan had been just an eleven-year-old child.

His younger brother, proud and with companions in tow, bragged that he was the Holy Maiden's "child husband" and that he would only serve the Holy Maiden while his brother would be the clan leader.

Fan Yan was furious. With a cold smile, he led them into a snake pit.

That evening, as he calmly washed the blood from his hands, he felt a perverse satisfaction. They were of the same ancient bloodline, so why should the Xianqin Clan forever remain subservient? Why should his father want to marry him off to the Holy Maiden and let his brother inherit the Xianqin Clan?

His younger brother was the first person Fan Yan secretly killed.

Even so, his father still had no intention of keeping him, insisting on sending him to the Divine Mountain.

Years passed, and Fan Yan grew up, now a handsome young man with red lips and white teeth.

His father took him to the Divine Mountain for the first time, and it was there that he first saw Ling Xi. The girl sat behind a bamboo curtain on the Divine Mountain, while the High Priest taught her how to draw symbols.

He harbored evil thoughts in his heart, but when their eyes met, he saw only a pair of curious, clear eyes.

Ling Xi was beautiful, and her gaze was pure.

Fan Yan smiled shyly after a long while. He had stayed on the Divine Mountain for five years, and his father had told him to be kind to Ling Xi and cultivate a relationship with her.

But perhaps because she was a few years older than him, it was actually Ling Xi who took care of him.

She was very kind to him, always considering his homesickness. Several times, Fan Yan deliberately made things difficult for her, but she never reacted, almost always giving in.

The High Priest called him a bad seed, but Ling Xi sternly protected him, saying, "Aunt, be careful with your words!"

Gradually, Fan Yan developed some subtle feelings for her. But in his heart, he coldly thought, it was only a little bit.

There were only two drops of divine blood left in the world, each guarded by one of the two clans. One drop represented life, and was in the Changyin Clan; the other, death, was in the Xianqin Clan.

The reason the three realms revered the Changyin Clan as the main clan and allowed them to live on the Divine Mountain was because all the ancient divine weapons and demonic tools were in the hands of the Changyin Clan. Over the years, they had produced generations of capable individuals, and every Holy Maiden also nurtured the Ice Lotus.

"To reverse such a situation, all one needed was to gain control of the divine weapons and demonic tools."

Thus, Fan Yan took the first step to change his destiny. He used Ling Xi's trust to break into the forbidden grounds of the Divine Mountain and steal the divine weapon.

He would never forget that day—the look of disbelief in Ling Xi's eyes.

Later, when the truth came to light, his foolish father refused to accept the stolen treasure. Instead, he sent Fan Yan to the Divine Mountain to admit his wrongs, and the divine weapon was resealed.

The Changyin Clan wanted to punish him. Having committed such a heinous crime, even his father could not protect him.

Fan Yan sneered, his gaze sweeping over his cowardly father, over the angry Changyin clansmen, and finally resting on Ling Xi, the pale-faced Holy Maiden.

The girl stared at him for a long time, before saying, "Let him go."

Fan Yan's smile froze in his eyes.

From that day onward, the broken barriers, the destroyed ancient trees, were slowly restored by that girl, year after year, making up for his transgressions.

Fan Yan was locked away by his father in the clan, and he thought he did not care. But every time he woke up from his midnight dreams, he would remember the scene of eavesdropping on a conversation between Ling Xi and the High Priest.

The High Priest had said, "The omens show that this child is ill-fated, his thoughts dark, and he is born without compassion."

The young Holy Maiden, dressed in moon-white robes, stopped her aunt and said, "Why judge someone by omens? He has done nothing, so how can he be condemned?"

She already had the demeanor of a ruler as she rolled up her sleeves to write documents.

"My mother once told me that men who come to the Changyin for marriage are never easily accepted. They are often ostracized within the clan. If the Divine Mountain is not his home, then where can he belong?"

"He is my man, and I will protect him for as long as I live. If he truly does not like me, I will send him back home. In the end, this marriage was always a debt owed to him."

The High Priest sighed and said no more.

That day, Fan Yan hid and listened without showing any emotion. He thought nothing of it at the time, but now, imprisoned, when he received the dissolution letter from the Changyin Clan, he realized what he had lost.

From now on, marriage and alliances were irrelevant.

In the dark, he licked at the painful ambitions in his heart for a long time, and for the first time, he felt a sense of confusion.

When his father released him, it was years later. After all those years in prison, he had become gentler, better at disguising his true feelings.

When he proposed to personally go to the Divine Mountain to apologize, his father glanced at him and said, "No need. The Holy Maiden is not at the Divine Mountain."

"Where did she go?"

"To the mortal realm," his father's expression was complicated. "She is already married."

Fan Yan's smile remained on his face, but his palm had already bled from clenched fists. His father sighed, "From now on, be good. You are still the young master of the Xianqin Clan. Don't do anything foolish again. Being the ruler of the Three Realms is not as good as it seems. The greater the power, the greater the responsibility."

"The Changyin Clan is kind, and the Holy Maiden has always been decisive and kind to others. Isn't such a peaceful life enough? Why must you fight for dominance?"

But Fan Yan spent his entire life fighting.

He fought for the position of young master, fought for the freedom he wanted as a child, and even successfully stole the divine weapons—why should he not fight for what he desired?

He simply hated—hated his father's incompetence and cowardice. If only his father had accepted the divine weapons and demonic tools Fan Yan had brought back, perhaps today, he would be the ruler of the Three Realms.

The things he lost could still be regained—like the glory of his clan, and… that woman he had once betrayed atop the Divine Mountain.

But Fan Yan could wait.

He could always wait for her husband to die, wait for the divine weapons to return to him, and wait for the day he became the true ruler of the Three Realms.

For years, he had been a dark observer, watching that young mortal rise to become a capable minister, quelling the wars among the Eight Nations, and eventually ascending to the position of Prime Minister. He saw Ling Xi and him growing ever closer, sharing love and respect, walking in harmony.

Even worse, Ling Xi soon became pregnant.

When he learned this, Fan Yan's expression was unexpectedly calm.

The following month, during fair weather, a small disturbance occurred in the Changyin Clan. The Holy Maiden hurriedly returned, and after going back, the news he heard was that the young prime minister had died from illness.

That mortal's health had never been good, so his death… was not surprising, was it?

Yet that night, Fan Yan was slapped hard across the face, and her spiritual power pierced through his body, leaving several wounds. He crawled at her feet, panting, yet somehow wanting to laugh.

You're upset? Isn't that a bit unfair?

Had it not been for his father's plea, and with no evidence in her hands, Fan Yan would have died at Ling Xi's hands that day, resisting and unwilling to admit his crime, afraid of provoking a war between the two clans.

When he was young, he had never imagined that one day, that girl who had peeked at him with curiosity and affection from behind a curtain would only want to kill him.

Ling Xi's killing intent was undiminished, but more pressing than her personal vengeance was the awakening of the evil forces beneath the Divine Mountain. After ten thousand years of peace, the tranquility of the world was on the verge of being shattered. Plague spread across the mortal realm, and the dead littered the land.

By then, Ling Xi had already become the ruler of the Divine Mountain.

With one drop of divine blood that represented life, she spread it across the mortal realm, and together with her people, sealed the evil energy of the world within the Divine Mountain. She was determined to eliminate the evil forces completely and prevent their return.

It wasn't about sealing them away—it was about eradicating them.

From that point onward, even if the ancient spiritual clans no longer existed, the world would remain at peace forever.

The Xianqin Clan also responded, undaunted by death.

Among them was his father.

Fan Yan watched coldly as they activated the formation and truly killed the newly awakened demon god.

He watched the Holy Maiden disappear, the Divine Mountain collapse, but the world would never again see the return of evil.

A peaceful and prosperous era seemed within reach, and the world would never again see spiritual cultivators ascend.

Only when the final drop of the divine blood, representing death, fell into the formation could the evil from the Three Realms be completely dispelled. Fan Yan's hand pierced his father's heart and grasped the drop of divine blood. Just like how he had killed his younger brother all those years ago, he killed his own father.

The Divine Mountain lay in ruins, but he never looked back, the demonic energy raging behind him.

He staggered away, laughing loudly as he left.

"No more demons in the world?"

You should have believed that omen. Some people are born as demons.

Fan Yan searched the entire Divine Mountain but did not find the baby girl that the High Priest had taken away.

Fan Yan consumed countless evil spirits, growing stronger, but gradually, he lost control. His mind became increasingly unclear, and he could only seal off Du'e City, trapping the evil spirits there to prevent the death of spiritual cultivators, while searching for a pure body.

He had become a demon and could no longer enter the newly restored forbidden area of the Divine Mountain.

Three thousand years passed, and sometimes Fan Yan would think of her, sometimes he would think of the infant who had been born not long ago.

Would he kill that girl?

No, at least, before killing the child… he wanted to take one last look.

If he hadn't stolen the divine weapon back then, would their child have looked like that?

Their daughter would have been the ruler of the Three Realms as well.

But there were no "ifs." From the moment he killed his brother as a child, he had walked a path of unwillingness—a path with no return.

Three thousand years had passed, and now there was no place left for regret. If he felt even the slightest regret, it would gnaw at him like maggots in his bones, causing him unimaginable agony.

Therefore, when the Ling Emperor looked at the girl before him, his face remained cold and his voice ominously low, "No wonder I couldn't find you despite searching everywhere. You were already stripped of half your soul."

Standing before him now, however, was a complete Changyin clanswoman, bearing her legacy and the memories sealed by the High Priest.

A silver-white mark began to slowly appear on Zhan Yunwei's forehead. Her gaze was cold as she spoke, "Criminal Fan Yan, kneel and face your punishment."

When Fan Yan fell to his knees before her, he thought back to a night long, long ago. It was the same situation.

Back then, Ling Xi had wanted to kill him, but his father had protected him, and the clansmen had shielded him.

Three thousand years had passed, and he had not ascended. He had nothing left.

Fan Yan looked at her, his lips curling into a malicious smile.

"You think what you absorbed was the divine blood of life?" He sneered. "When I die, you will go down with me."

But Zhan Yunwei's expression remained unfazed. She released her soul's energy and saw the truth that the High Priest had left for her. She understood what this meant. With her body as a spiritual master, she had reversed the course of fate and absorbed the divine blood of death.

Transformed into the power of creation, she nourished the land beneath her feet. This divine blood could erase all the evil energy in the world. Even Fan Yan dared not absorb it—how could her body alone bear it?

However, Zhan Yunwei glanced back, and behind her, countless people were saved, including her Yue Daren. His transparent fingers slowly returned to normal.

It was summer, the sun had risen, and countless flowers and plants began to take root and grow.

The coldness in her eyes faded, replaced by a smile.

This was good. The people she cared about were alive, and Yue Daren could go home.

Protecting the people, protecting her husband—this had always been her responsibility.

Zhan Yunwei turned, and countless silver-white starlight poured from her fingertips, striking the Ling Emperor. His dark golden soul struggled for a moment before fading away into the dust of the world.

Zhan Yunwei's lips also bled.

Behind her, countless silver threads surged toward Yue Zhiheng, bringing him the remaining vitality he needed to live a long life.

Yue Zhiheng had already sensed that something was wrong. Trembling, he spoke, "Zhan Yunwei, look back at me."

She did not turn around. Before her were the vast mountains and rivers, the bright and blazing sun.

This was not her Three Realms; this was the Three Realms of all living beings.

And the person behind her was her partner in this life.

Her chest grew tighter with pain, but she still remembered not to look back.

She didn't want him to see her state. Yue Zhiheng was so frightened that he no longer called her Miss Zhan. If he saw her, seeing the divine blood slowly dissipating from her body, how heartbroken would he be?

But when Zhan Yunwei collapsed, the man behind her, though drained of strength, crawled toward her bit by bit.

She fell into his warm embrace.

Everything in front of her blurred. Zhan Yunwei felt something fall onto her face.

With great effort, she raised her hand and touched his face.

"It's alright, Yue Daren. We've only done what we originally agreed upon—protecting the ones we love, extending the vitality of life."

In her past life, during the great snowstorm, Yue Zhiheng had never once shown weakness, even to the point of death. But this was their second life together, and for the first time, she touched his tears.