Chapter 1: Oh My, Your Wife is Dead

A Shang had two regrets in her life.

The first was falling in love with Xie Hengyu, a man devoid of emotions.
The second was marrying him and becoming his wife.

“You wretched beast, where is the Extreme Heaven Stone?”

On the Execution Platform of the Immortal Sect, the sky was ominous, and the cold wind was bone-chilling. A Shang, dressed in white robes now stained crimson with blood, was suspended from the execution platform.

Below the platform were the disciples of the Sect, while above stood the Chief of Fate, responsible for carrying out her sentence, alongside Master Qingyu, who loathed her deeply for defiling his beloved disciple.

Blood and tears blurred her vision. Numbed by pain, A Shang lifted her head, her stubborn eyes still clinging to hope as she asked:
“Where is Xie Hengyu? I want to see him.”

“You, a demon woman, still wish to see Senior Brother Xie?”

A disciple below the platform shouted angrily upon hearing her words. “If it weren’t for you, Senior Brother Xie would never have…”

“Yanxie will not see you.”

Master Qingyu cut off the disciple’s words, his cold gaze filled with contempt and disdain as he looked at her. “I’ll ask you one last time: where is the Extreme Heaven Stone?”

A Shang lowered her head and remained silent.

She knew that no matter how much she defended herself, these people would never believe her words. They would never believe that she did not collude with the Demonic Clan, nor would they believe that she did not steal the Extreme Heaven Stone.

Seeing that this half-demon woman stubbornly refused to reveal the whereabouts of the Extreme Heaven Stone, Master Qingyu did not delay any longer. He gave a glance to the Master of Fate beside him.

Understanding the signal, the Master of Fate uttered two cold words:
“Carry out the sentence.”

Fifteen bolts of Heavenly Lightning descended.

In the final moment before the execution, A Shang still held on to a sliver of hope—hoping to see that figure dressed in white.

But even in her dying breath, her eyes saw nothing but the blinding flashes of lightning rushing toward her, competing to strike her down.

There was no one else.

Later, according to the disciples of the Immortal Sect, the Half-Demon A Shang died on that very afternoon when she was subjected to the Heavenly Lightning Punishment.

The fifteen bolts of Heavenly Lightning alone should not have been enough to kill her. Yet, it wasn’t until her body was reduced to ashes amidst the onslaught of lightning that they realized—her Spiritual Core had only half remained.

How could half of a Spiritual Core possibly withstand fifteen bolts of Heavenly Lightning?

When A Shang was very young, she once asked her Father,
“When people die, they all go to the Yellow Springs. Then… what about me? Where will I go after I die, as a Half-Demon?”

She remembered how her father lovingly patted her head, lifted her into his arms, and pointed to the sky above.

“Shang Shang is so kind and lovable. One day, you will surely go to the Heavenly Realm and become a revered deity.”

But unfortunately, she was born a Half-Demon, carrying the blood of both humans and demons.

Forget about becoming a deity in the Heavenly Realm—as a Half-Demon, she was despised by both the human and demon clans alike. Even in cultivation, she was constantly met with scorn and prejudice.

A Half-Demon cultivating to become a deity? What a laughable notion.

However, after her death, she finally learned that Half-Demons, just like humans, also went to the Yellow Springs after death.

The Yellow Springs were far more dark and terrifying than A Shang had imagined. An endless Sea of Blood stretched before her, staining even the sky above a deep, ominous red. On the shore, countless dark red Red Spider Lilies bloomed.

All around her were souls just like herself—dead, wandering aimlessly through the Yellow Springs, drifting forward slowly with the rest of the procession.

A Shang didn’t know how many years she had wandered in the Yellow Springs. No matter how far she walked, she could never leave. Her consciousness grew fainter with time, and during the rare moments of clarity, she noticed that the souls traveling with her kept changing, replaced by new ones again and again.

Until one day, after what felt like an eternity, she suddenly found herself back in the Mortal Realm, in a small town.

Much of her memory was fragmented, but the sight of the town filled her with an overwhelming sense of familiarity, as if she had been there before.

In the distance, she saw a group of people dressed in white robes. The emblem on their clothing stirred a sense of recognition within her, though she couldn’t quite recall where she had seen it before.

“Hurry up! If we don’t exterminate the evil spirits in Anzhou City today, the Sect Master will surely scold us again.”

The group of white-robed disciples hurriedly passed through the alley.

“The Sect Master brought his wife to Anzhou today. With her around, he definitely won’t have time to scold us.”

Hearing the disciples chattering excitedly, A Shang didn’t quite know why, but her lingering soul involuntarily followed them.

She watched as the group of disciples hunted down many evil spirits throughout the city. Among them, one young man’s swordsmanship stood out above the rest.

His technique felt strangely familiar to her, though she couldn’t recall where she had seen it before.

Since she was nothing more than a wandering spirit, the disciples couldn’t see her, allowing A Shang to follow them unnoticed for several days.

She found it odd—usually, whenever she became lucid, her mind would soon slip back into confusion. But after staying close to this group of young disciples, she felt herself growing more and more clear-headed.

Gradually, she began to remember many things about her past life.

She was A Shang, a Half-Demon, and she had once been a disciple of the Immortal Sect.

No wonder the robes they wore seemed so familiar to her—they were from the same sect as she once was.

But… she couldn’t remember how she had died.

“Have all the evil spirits in the city been eradicated?”

Just as A Shang was trying hard to recall the reason for her death, a cold male voice suddenly echoed beside her.

Even though she could no longer remember many things, hearing that voice sent an inexplicable shiver through her heart.

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked toward the source of the voice.

There, standing gracefully amidst the curtain of rain, was a man dressed in flowing white robes.

His figure was tall and elegant, his long hair tied back with a jade crown. He had handsome, refined features and an otherworldly aura about him.

Most captivating of all were his beautiful peach blossom eyes, which carried a touch of allure amidst their cold detachment.

Staring at that face—so painfully familiar—A Shang instinctively whispered, “Xie Hengyu.”

In the very next moment, the man standing under the eaves seemed to hear her.

His gaze shifted, turning directly toward her.

Their gazes locked, and in that moment, all the memories of her past life came flooding back to A Shang.

Xie Hengyu…

This man was actually Xie Hengyu…

Scenes from her previous life flashed before her eyes like a rushing stream.

Xie Hengyu—a disciple under Qingyu Zhenren of the Immortal Sect, born with a Sword Bone, a peerless sword cultivator among the younger disciples, destined to become a powerful Sword Master with limitless potential.

And she… merely a lowly Half-Demon in the eyes of the world, who became his wife through disgraceful means—by drugging him.

Even though it wasn’t her doing, their first night together had been tainted by someone else’s schemes and manipulations.

She knew that marrying her had never been his choice; he simply had no other option.

Yet, despite this, she still held onto hope—hoping that, in time, he might develop feelings for her, even if just a little.

But in the end, she realized she had been foolishly naive.

How could Xie Hengyu, who already had his First Love, his White Moonlight, ever come to love a Half-Demon who appeared in his life so abruptly?

Xie Hengyu’s cold, distant eyes gazed into the rain, seemingly looking at her, yet not truly seeing her.

If not for the fact that A Shang was now just a lingering spirit, she might have believed that he could really see her.

A pale, delicate hand rested on his arm. Xie Hengyu withdrew his gaze, glancing down at the woman in the wheelchair. His voice softened as he spoke to her, “I’ll take you inside.”

That gentle tone… A Shang had never heard him speak like that before.

The rain grew heavier as A Shang stood amidst the downpour, watching helplessly as Xie Hengyu carefully pushed the woman in the wheelchair into the house.

The woman’s back was turned, her face hidden from view, but A Shang knew who she was—Shen Yueqing.

Xie Hengyu’s childhood sweetheart.
His White Moonlight.

So, the Sect Master’s Wife those disciples had spoken of was Shen Yueqing.

Of course… If she hadn’t come between them, Shen Yueqing—his beloved from childhood—would have been his wife long ago.

From beginning to end, A Shang was nothing more than the unwanted third party.

Now that she was dead, it was only natural for Xie Hengyu to marry the woman he truly loved.

A drop of bloody tear slid down her cheek as A Shang’s lingering spirit finally dissipated into the rain, vanishing without a trace.

Unseen.
Unheard.
Unremembered.