Chapter 13: Heart

Feng Fuming led Liu Shuang through the floating pavilions of the Heavenly Realm, arriving at the grand gates of heaven.

Liu Shuang had never been to the Heavenly Realm before. Unlike the Ghost Domain, this realm was pure white, exuding an aura of clean and abundant spiritual energy.

Immortal maidens filed out in an orderly manner, quickly setting up a resting and negotiation area at the gates.

One immortal maiden in white robes carried spirit fruits and teacups, while two others gently fanned with their fans. Liu Shuang, bound tightly, was thrown at Feng Fuming’s feet.

Liu Shuang sat cross-legged, not looking back at Feng Fuming, but instead gazing at the vast expanse of the Heavenly Realm. Since her birth, she had lived in four places: the Canglan Blue Immortal Realm, the mortal world, the demon realm, and the Ghost Domain. The Heavenly Realm was clearly different from any place she had ever been.

Countless auspicious birds with long, flowing tail feathers flew by, their beauty indescribable. Liu Shuang stared in awe, yet as she beheld such a beautiful sight, she thought of her own Qing Luan.

The Qing Luan was a demon bird. Living in the barren Ghost Domain, it and the Chi Yuan could only build nests among the rocks, unlike these free immortal birds that could lazily preen their feathers and roam in a world filled with spiritual energy.

Once, when following Yan Chaosheng in battle, as long as the Qing Luan and Chi Yuan could still fly, even if injured, they had to go to the battlefield.

Later, as the demon realm and Ghost Domain gradually gained status, the battles became less arduous. When the Qing Luan followed Liu Shuang, its life improved slightly. Watching the peaceful and spiritually abundant Heavenly Realm, Liu Shuang suddenly understood why Yan Chaosheng had been waging wars for a hundred years.

A spirit fruit was offered to her lips. Liu Shuang looked up and saw Feng Fuming smiling: “Do you like these birds? They are called Qing Di. Shall I gift you one?”

“Thank you, Heavenly Lord, but that won’t be necessary.”

Liu Shuang initially wanted to avoid the spirit fruit Feng Fuming offered, but after a pause, she opened her mouth and ate it.

Feng Fuming raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued, and fed her one after another. Liu Shuang accepted them all, eating each one.

Feng Fuming glanced at her: “You seem to be enjoying them. In half a moment, the agreed time will arrive. Aren’t you worried Yan Chaosheng won’t come?”

Liu Shuang swallowed the spirit fruit and remained silent.

Having traveled for several days, Liu Shuang’s spiritual energy was almost entirely depleted. The spirit fruits now relieved her immediate crisis, and a faint trace of immortal power began to flow within her.

In the past, she would never have eaten anything offered by Feng Fuming, steadfastly hoping for her husband to rescue her.

But after being barred from the Ghost Domain, she began to understand that in this world, she could rely on no one but herself. If something truly happened, having immortal power within her would at least give her a chance to protect herself.

Feng Fuming tapped his finger on the jade table, where a colorful hourglass lay. The sand was running out, and the vast Heavenly Realm remained empty, with no sign of anyone.

Liu Shuang also looked at the hourglass until the last grain of sand fell. The Heavenly Realm was silent, and Yan Chaosheng still had not come.

Feng Fuming observed Liu Shuang’s reaction, expecting to see sadness and pain on her face. To his surprise, she was calmer than he had imagined, her lips lightly pursed, silent.

“He didn’t come. Are you disappointed?” Feng Fuming said. “It seems the rumors are true. Yan Chaosheng took a consort, but she is dispensable. In a hundred years, he hasn’t given her any authority in the demon realm or Ghost Domain, nor has he taken her to any banquets, merely treating her as a substitute for Mi Chu.”

Feng Fuming used his jade flute to lift Liu Shuang’s chin, sighing pityingly: “Immortal Liu Shuang, he doesn’t even care about the tragic fate that awaits you in my hands.”

Feng Fuming’s words were like a sharp thorn, piercing Liu Shuang’s heart. Her pupils contracted, and she clenched her teeth stubbornly, refusing to show any trace of disappointment or fear.

In truth… she hoped more than anyone that Yan Chaosheng would come to her rescue. Liu Shuang knew clearly that she could not remain trapped by Feng Fuming’s side. The Canglan Blue Immortal Realm still awaited rescue. If Yan Chaosheng did not come, she and the entire Canglan Blue would be buried in winter before the arrival of spring in the mortal world.

At the moment the hourglass emptied, a deep sense of loss nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Even after releasing her spiritual energy, her memories still clung to that person, believing that Yan Chaosheng would protect her as he had for a hundred years, even as thunderous calamities raged in the sky. Standing before her in his dark robes, he was the unrivaled God of War, and all would eventually pass.

If Yan Chaosheng had never treated Liu Shuang well, she might not have harbored any hope. But he had sheltered her time and again for a hundred years, making her believe that even if Yan Chaosheng did not love her, he would not truly abandon her.

She had overestimated Yan Chaosheng’s compassion for her and underestimated his affection for Mi Chu.

Liu Shuang would not cry in front of Feng Fuming. Yan Chaosheng was no good man, and neither was Feng Fuming. She refused to lay bare her emotions before this man, offering them up for his amusement.

Feng Fuming looked at her with regret: “Not even a hint of sadness? What a wasted opportunity for a good show. Come, poor thing. As my prisoner, you’ll have to repay the grievances I’ve harbored against Yan Chaosheng these past days. After all, the Demon Lord hasn’t shown me any mercy recently.”

Feng Fuming’s tone was venomous as he spoke the last few words.

Just as Feng Fuming was about to take Liu Shuang away, a voice called out: “Wait.”

Hearing this familiar voice, Liu Shuang quickly turned to look. The newcomer wore a green robe, holding a jade fan, exuding an air of dignity.

“Lord Su Lun!”

“Heavenly Lord, greetings. Immortal Liu Shuang, greetings. My Demon Lord has sent me to discuss a deal with the Heavenly Lord.”

“Oh?” Feng Fuming glanced at Liu Shuang. Though he smiled lazily, his eyes gleamed with danger. “Yan Chaosheng sent you to negotiate instead of coming himself. Does he look down on me, or is he afraid, hiding like a turtle?”

Su Lun remained composed: “Heavenly Lord, you and the Demon Lord have been at war for a hundred years. Has our lord ever retreated? Today, the Demon Lord did not come because Immortal Mi Chu’s soul is unstable, and he must help her stabilize it. After all, you know that stepping into the Mirror of Rebirth means entering the cycle of reincarnation. Immortal Mi Chu’s body is in dire condition, especially since you, disregarding past ties, extracted her life jade bamboo, worsening her situation.”

“You came for Mi Chu?”

“Indeed.” Su Lun smiled, presenting a brocade box. “I heard the Heavenly Lord has been searching for the Floating Red Lotus for centuries without success. Coincidentally, the Floating Red Lotus is one of the treasures of the demon realm. Today, we are willing to part with it, provided…”

Su Lun’s gaze slid over Liu Shuang, then continued: “Provided the Heavenly Lord returns the remnants of Immortal Mi Chu’s life jade bamboo to me.”

Feng Fuming’s smile widened: “The Floating Red Lotus is indeed something I need. Su Lun, I grant you a favor. Today, you may choose to take this little immortal grass or the shattered jade bamboo.”

Su Lun’s gaze remained steady: “What the Demon Lord requires is solely Immortal Mi Chu’s life jade bamboo.”

“In that case, take it.” Feng Fuming tossed the item in his hand. What had been a flute in his palm moments ago now transformed into a translucent, jade-like spiritual object.

It turned out Feng Fuming had turned Mi Chu’s life essence into a flute to toy with.

Su Lun also honored his promise, presenting the Floating Red Lotus.

Feng Fuming said: “Convey a message to Yan Chaosheng for me. His consort is exceedingly beautiful. What a pity she must now serve my coarse forest guardians.”

Su Lun smiled: “The Heavenly Lord jests. The Demon Lord has never had a consort. I take my leave.”

Su Lun’s figure vanished into the distance, leaving only the fleeting shadows of the Qing Di birds in the Heavenly Realm. Feng Fuming didn’t even glance at the red lotus, tossing it to an immortal maiden behind him. He turned to Liu Shuang: “In his eyes, you are worth less than a shattered piece of jade bamboo. Poor thing, hm? How did you end up like this?”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head: “Mi Chu is known as the most beautiful woman in the Eight Desolates. How is it that with a face so similar to hers, you are in such a pitiful state?”

Liu Shuang remained silent, her heart aching dully. The immortal binding rope dug into her flesh. When she had awaited Lord Su Lun, her joy had been indescribable.

But Su Lun’s arrival was solely for Mi Chu’s life jade bamboo.

A hundred years of companionship, and she alone had taken it seriously.

Liu Shuang was taken back to the Heavenly Palace. Feng Fuming leaned close, his tone malicious: “Dress up nicely. Tonight, you’ll be sent away. Those forest guardians have worked hard, and you are the greatest reward I’ve given them in a thousand years. How about this? Since you’ve been by Yan Chaosheng’s side for decades, tell me his weakness, and I’ll let you go. Deal?”

Liu Shuang parted her lips.

She desperately wanted to leave. No one could understand the torment she felt now, the impending ordeal, and the fate of the Canglan Blue Immortal Realm, all of which filled her with despair.

For a moment, she resented Yan Chaosheng, but she knew Feng Fuming was untrustworthy. Even if he verified the truth, it would likely be too late to save the Canglan Blue. Even if he were trustworthy, revealing Yan Chaosheng’s secrets to Feng Fuming would lead to the destruction of a hundred years of Yan Chaosheng’s efforts.

Su Lun, Fu Heng, Qing Luan, Chi Yuan, Chang Huan…

And the rhinoceros demon who once protected her—these people would be killed one by one.

Liu Shuang felt as if all her strength had been drained. Thinking of Chang Huan, who still guarded her courtyard, she shook her head: “I know nothing.”

Feng Fuming narrowed his eyes at her, momentarily admitting to himself that he felt a twinge of envy for Yan Chaosheng.

If it were Mi Chu, for the sake of her clan and herself, she would have spilled everything without regard for the consequences. He couldn’t help but laugh.

No matter. If Yan Chaosheng didn’t want her, he was more than willing to take her. There was plenty of time.

The maidservants led Liu Shuang away. Feng Fuming encountered Jun Xi, the Immortal Lord. Though the exchange for Mi Chu had failed, Feng Fuming’s mood was uncharacteristically bright. Jun Xi noticed his good spirits: “Heavenly Lord, is there cause for celebration?”

Feng Fuming smiled: “Naturally. Spread the word: tonight, I shall hold a grand wedding and confer a consort.”

Though he had deliberately provoked Yan Chaoshan and frightened Liu Shuang, he had no intention of handing her over to be humiliated by those men.

The little immortal grass was quite endearing, her tears nearly spilling but stubbornly held back, as if afraid he would see her vulnerability. She was a simple soul, her emotions written plainly in her eyes, though she herself believed she hid them well.

Disappointment, sorrow—she was truly heartbroken. Feng Fuming’s words were mostly deceit, meant to test whether her disappointment in Yan Chaosheng would lead her to reveal his secrets.

After all, having been Yan Chaosheng’s opponent for centuries, the man truly vexed him, proving a formidable foe.

But Liu Shuang had said nothing.

Several immortal maidens took Liu Shuang away, carefully bathing her. The immortal binding rope remained, forcing her to submit to their ministrations.

The pool was filled with immortal mist. The maidens looked at her, a flicker of admiration in their eyes.

In her dire straits, Liu Shuang found herself utterly calm.

Today, Mi Chu’s jade bamboo had reminded her of something else. She felt the beating of her own heart.

In the Eight Desolates, everyone possessed a spiritual core, the foundation of cultivation and the essence of the soul. With the core intact, one could live long; without it, like Mi Chu, the soul would become unstable, even leading to death.

Liu Shuang had nothing left, standing alone with only her heart.

At her birth, the tree elder had told her that this was her spiritual core. Originally, a little immortal grass would not have a heart—there was only a cold, purple jade stone.

But one day, it began to beat, like a mortal’s heart.

Mi Chu had paid the price of shattering her life jade bamboo to be by Yan Chaosheng’s side. Liu Shuang could also crush her heart to escape the Heavenly Realm and return to the Canglan Blue Immortal Realm. Whether she lived or died, she would reclaim her original self and be with her kin.

She touched her heart.

It beat so strongly. For a hundred years, she had loved Yan Chaosheng with this heart, using it to feel joy and sorrow. Now, she would crush it herself, severing all ties to the past.

Go back, a voice said. Go home.