Chapter 8: Xiangyao

A conversation that seemed light-hearted took a chilling turn when Yan Chaosheng casually mentioned the “Xiangyao Clan.” Though Su Lun maintained a smiling expression, his back was drenched in cold sweat.

Only after Yan Chaosheng left did Su Lun glance around and touch his neck. Good, his head was still intact.

Having served Yan Chaosheng for hundreds of years, Su Lun was considered a trusted confidant, yet he still didn’t truly understand his master.

Foxes are cunning by nature, and Su Lun was the most well-informed person in the Eight Desolates. However, what he knew about Yan Chaosheng was surprisingly little.

It was said that when Yan Chaosheng was young, he had entered the Kongsang Paradise as a half-demon to cultivate. His bloodline was half-human and half-snake demon. Back then, everyone assumed the snake demon bloodline was just an ordinary one.

Seven hundred years ago was vastly different from now. At that time, the immortal clans dominated, and demons held no status, especially the snake clan, which was reviled for its slimy and repulsive nature.

Mortals despised Yan Chaosheng, and the immortal disciples treated him as a filthy, lowly creature.

His path of cultivation was fraught with hardships, even enduring the excruciating pain of having his soul stripped. Later, Yan Chaosheng betrayed his sect, burned his mortal body, and that night, the entire Kongsang Paradise was razed to the ground, reduced to ruins. Yan Chaosheng became the first demon-ghost in the Eight Desolates, embarking on a new path as a ghost cultivator.

A young ghost cultivator, a prodigy of his time, within a mere few hundred years, his cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds. He eventually became the Demon Lord, unifying the two realms. No one remembered the once-glorious Kongsang Paradise of centuries past, only the now-dominant Demon Lord.

Yet, Su Lun knew little about Yan Chaosheng’s origins, and the ancient Xiangyao Clan was a taboo subject in the Eight Desolates.

Some ancient clans had survived to this day, much like noble bloodlines among mortals, born with abundant spiritual power, inspiring awe and reverence.

Clans like the Eastern Changliu, Western Buzhou Mountain, Northern Kunlun, and Southern Kongsang.

These immortals and celestial lords, inheritors of ancient legacies, were born superior, even the Heavenly Emperor’s successor was chosen from among them. But few knew that long ago, the Xiangyao Clan, with their formidable spiritual power, had once ruled above all immortals, their lineage producing generation after generation of immortal kings. However, due to their unbridled arrogance and ruthless hearts, they became known as mad kings and were eventually annihilated by the united forces of other ancient clans, leaving none alive.

Yet, no one knew that one last descendant of the Xiangyao Clan remained—Yan Chaosheng, with half of their bloodline flowing in his veins.

Centuries ago, when Su Lun accidentally discovered Yan Chaosheng’s bloodline, he broke out in a cold sweat and immediately knelt.

Yan Chaosheng, leaning on his chin, sat high on the demon throne, watching with amusement as Su Lun trembled slightly.

In that moment, his demeanor matched his bloodline—cold, aloof, and malevolent.

Yan Chaosheng didn’t kill him but smiled and said, “No matter. Since it’s a secret, there must be a second person who knows, or it would be a waste of its terror. I’ll spare you. But the moment a third person knows, that’s when I’ll take your life.”

He kept his word and never killed Su Lun. And because he now knew the Demon Lord’s secret, Su Lun realized he was on a path of no return. Though he was clever and disliked being controlled, he had no choice but to abandon any rebellious thoughts and serve Yan Chaosheng with unwavering loyalty.

Today, he never expected that mentioning Liu shuang would lead to this topic.

In that moment, Su Lun felt his neck was in grave danger.

Looking at the lush and dazzling phoenix tree in the hall, Su Lun let out a bitter laugh. This was all he could do for Her Majesty.

A man’s heart is like iron, and a lord’s heart is unfathomable. Whether this was a blessing or a curse, only time would tell.

Yan Chaosheng, who had walked through fire and endured countless humiliations, was by no means a gentle or kind figure.

From here on, everything would depend on Liu shuang’s fate.

On the other side, after parting ways with Su Lun, Yan Chaosheng entered the Heartless Hall. Inside, a pool of white, icy water stretched endlessly into the depths.

The entire ghost realm believed the Heartless Hall was a place where he went to heal his wounds, hence why it was off-limits to others. A hint of mockery flashed in Yan Chaosheng’s eyes as he sat cross-legged and waved his hand. From the icy pool, a gentle and beautiful soul slowly floated up.

But if an expert were present, they would see beneath her skin a soul heavy with resentment—a fierce ghost driven by unrelenting anger.

The soul bowed gracefully and said softly, “Young Master, unless I’m mistaken, did it rain ghost rain in the ghost realm last night?”

Yan Chaosheng replied, “Indeed.”

The woman was overjoyed, her eyes glowing with an eerie light. She murmured with delight, “Wonderful! After waiting for tens of thousands of years, this day has finally come. In this yin year, when the Eight Desolates’ malevolent energy is at its peak, as long as we obtain the Hui Ling Heart, the Xiangliu Clan can reclaim its ancient glory!”

Her expression turned manic as she muttered, “We’ve waited for centuries. When will we take the Hui Ling Heart?”

Yan Chaosheng said, “Not yet. The bloodline isn’t pure enough, and the Hui Ling Heart’s power can’t be fully unleashed. We must wait until she survives this tribulation lightning.”

The woman’s smile faded, and her once radiant and gentle face twisted into something grotesque. Blood slowly seeped from her seven orifices as she stared at Yan Chaosheng suspiciously, her voice shrill, “You always use this excuse to delay taking the heart. After spending over a century with her, could it be that you’ve grown attached?”

Yan Chaosheng narrowed his eyes, “Meng Ji, you’ve overstepped.”

The woman tried to read his expression, but Yan Chaosheng’s eyes were dark and cold, showing only a cold fury at her transgression, nothing more.

The woman returned to her gentle demeanor, “It was Meng Ji’s mistake. I’ve simply been too eager for this day. There’s one last bottle of Ganlu Dew. Once she drinks it, the Hui Ling Heart will mature.”

Yan Chaosheng tapped the icy pool wall leisurely and said, “I’m aware. You don’t need to remind me repeatedly.”

The woman giggled and sank back into the icy pool.

Yan Chaosheng picked up a celadon bottle from the table and left the Heartless Hall.

When he returned, Liu shuang was crouching beneath the phoenix tree, studying how it had “risen from the dead.”

She looked puzzled and, upon seeing him, hesitantly asked, “Husband, why can’t I sense any vitality from the phoenix tree?”

All living things carry a sense of vitality. Though the phoenix tree was more lush and beautiful than ever, it exuded an aura of death.

Yan Chaosheng watched her for a moment, then smiled and said, “Perhaps it’s due to the difference in spiritual energy. After all, it’s something nurtured by ghostly power.”

Liu shuang nodded, accepting this explanation. She wasn’t unreasonable enough to expect a demon-ghost to produce immortal energy.

Yan Chaosheng said, “Come here.”

He held Liu shuang and sat on the swing. With his return, the ghost butterflies dared not approach. Changhuan was usually not in the courtyard, so the space belonged solely to the two of them.

Liu shuang asked, “Husband, what’s wrong?”

Yan Chaosheng didn’t respond, simply holding her tightly, his arm around her waist firm. Liu shuang reached up to smooth the crease between his brows, sensing something amiss. “Are you troubled?”

At her words, Yan Chaosheng said flatly, “No.” He gazed at Liu shuang in his arms. She had been so heartbroken yesterday, yet after being comforted, she was radiant again today.

Her eyes sparkled with warmth and affection, like spring flowers blooming in March, effortlessly spreading joy to those around her.

He smiled slightly, pulling out the celadon bottle from his sleeve. The earlier somber mood seemed to have been just Liu shuang’s imagination.

Liu shuang glanced at the bottle in his hand, took it, and opened it. Just as she was about to drink, his hand stopped her.

She looked up and saw the inscrutable look in Yan Chaosheng’s eyes. He said, “Why so eager? Aren’t you afraid of the pain?”

Liu shuang said sheepishly, “I’m a little scared, but I can’t keep relying on you to comfort me.”

The Han Cui Dew in the celadon bottle was something Liu shuang drank every ten years. Yan Chaosheng claimed it protected her from the corrosive effects of ghostly energy. Marrying a demon-ghost as an immortal came with its costs.

The first time she drank it, the pain wracked her bones, and she nearly screamed. He watched coldly, making her endure it.

Since then, Liu shuang had developed a fear of the Han Cui Dew, always finding excuses to avoid it, though she never succeeded. He always saw through her tricks.

But today, Yan Chaosheng was acting strangely. Liu shuang had planned to endure the pain quickly by drinking it all at once, but now it was Yan Chaosheng who seemed conflicted.

Yan Chaosheng gripped her hand, along with the bottle.

“Husband, you’re hurting me,” Liu shuang couldn’t help but say.

Yan Chaosheng closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, the complexity was gone. He released her hand.

Liu shuang glanced at the bottle, “Should I drink it now?”

Yan Chaosheng’s tone was indifferent, “Mm.”

Recently, so much had happened between them. Yan Chaosheng had comforted her more times in the past year than ever before. Though Liu shuang was affectionate, she was also strong-willed and not overly sentimental.

She steeled herself and drank the Han Cui Dew. When the effects took hold, despite her mental preparation, the pain still made her tremble uncontrollably. She bit her lip hard, nearly drawing blood, to stifle her cries.

At first, Yan Chaosheng watched coldly, then he chuckled, pinched her chin, and offered his wrist.

Liu shuang, clutching her heart that felt like it was shattering and reassembling, didn’t understand his gesture and hesitated.

Yan Chaosheng said, “If it hurts, bite me.”

Liu shuang shook her head, determined to endure. His eyes darkened, and he forcibly shoved his wrist into her mouth.

“Bite if I tell you to!”

Liu shuang stared in shock, holding Yan Chaosheng’s pale wrist in her mouth. Yan Chaosheng had dispelled his indestructible demon lord’s body, leaving no defenses. If she bit down, he would bleed profusely.

How could she bear to hurt him? In the end, Liu shuang endured the pain and instead gently kissed the protruding bone on his pale wrist.

Yan Chaosheng was stunned for a long moment, then he held her tightly and laughed heartily.

Perhaps it was the pain clouding her mind, but in that moment, Liu shuang thought his laughter sounded both resolute and sorrowful.

After a while, the pain subsided.

A cold kiss landed on her forehead.

But when she looked again, Yan Chaosheng had vanished. She was alone on the swing. Liu shuang blinked, touching her forehead, unsure if the kiss had been real or a figment of her imagination.

Yan Chaosheng rarely kissed her. The demon-ghost lord wasn’t accustomed to such gestures. Sometimes, when she playfully kissed him, he would coldly pinch her cheek and dismiss her.

Even during their rare moments of passion over the centuries, he always restrained himself, veering away from her lips at the last moment, opting to lightly bite her elsewhere with a mix of love and resentment.

Liu shuang pressed her hand to her heart. Each time she drank the Han Cui Dew, her heart’s resilience grew stronger. It truly was beneficial for her body.

Liu shuang counted the days. The Calamity Fire at Canglan Lake was approaching. As a child, she had been protected by her siblings and elders. Now, as an adult, it was her turn to protect the younger generation at Canglan Lake.

Mutual support and love within a clan ensured its long-lasting legacy.

Liu shuang called out, “Changhuan.”

Soon, Changhuan entered, “What does Her Majesty need?”

“Have Qingluan deliver a letter to Elder Tree at Canglan Lake. Tell him I’ll return in a few days to protect them from the Calamity Fire.” Liu shuang paused, then shook her head, “Wait, let’s delay it a bit.”

Now that Yan Chaosheng was also in the ghost realm, she wanted to ask if he would accompany her back to the place where she had long dreamed of making a home with him.