When Di Jiang woke up, he was submerged in Wanghuan Pool. He lifted his gaze and saw Le Gui diligently organizing the magical artifacts.

She finally tucked the last one into the storage pouch and had just begun to relax when she turned her head—only to lock eyes with him.

Le Gui paused slightly and tentatively asked, “Your Lordship?”

Di Jiang closed his eyes, feigning sleep.

“…You are clearly awake. Why are you ignoring me?” Le Gui muttered as she crept closer.

Di Jiang finally spoke. “Who told you to put me in the water?”

“The Seer Mirror,” Le Gui replied.

Di Jiang’s tone was indifferent. “It would actually be so kind?”

“Of course not,” Le Gui immediately sold out her colleague. “When I asked it how to take care of you, its attitude was terrible. It said that since you wouldn’t die anyway, I could just leave you however I wanted. But I couldn’t agree with that, so I had to threaten it.”

Di Jiang finally opened his eyes. “How did you threaten it?”

“I told it that if it didn’t answer me, I’d report it to you the moment you woke up and have you smash it to pieces eight hundred times,” Le Gui said earnestly.

Di Jiang casually stirred the water with his fingers, watching the ripples spread toward the edge of the pool. Then he raised his eyes to look at her.

Although he said nothing, Le Gui still understood his meaning. She answered with a considerate smile, “Yes, it did answer me, but I still tattled on it. After all, I’m not a good person.”

Her honesty was impeccable, leaving no room for criticism.

Di Jiang: “…”

The chamber fell into silence. Le Gui glanced around and looked at the vast hall she had spent three days cleaning. Suddenly, she found it a bit empty.

“Your Lordship, are you sure this is your sleeping chamber?” she asked curiously.

Di Jiang responded with a simple, “Why?”

“As a sleeping chamber, shouldn’t there at least be a bed?” Le Gui lowered her head, caught a glimpse of his exposed collarbone, and quickly looked away. “But you only have a pool here. And why is it called the Wanghuan Pool? Does it have anything to do with Juzi’s lake?”

“The Wanghuan Spring is a magical artifact, consisting of a primary and a secondary part. This pool is the primary artifact, while the one with Juzi is the secondary.”

Perhaps he had heard Le Gui calling the Shui Ling ‘Juzi’ too often, or perhaps he simply found the name convenient, but at some point, even Di Jiang had started calling it that.

Le Gui suddenly understood. “I see… So which one is stronger?”

Di Jiang cast her a sidelong glance. “What do you think?”

“Of course, yours is stronger, Your Lordship!” Le Gui flattered him skillfully, reaching out to stir the water as she spoke.

Di Jiang ignored her endless little movements and simply asked, “How long has this lord been asleep?”

“It’s been three days,” Le Gui replied promptly. “But you’ve only been in the pool for a day and a half. I had to clear out most of the magical artifacts before I could move you here.”

Di Jiang narrowed his long eyes. “So you’ve been cleaning all this time?”

Le Gui nodded.

“You didn’t take advantage of my unconsciousness to do anything you shouldn’t have?” Di Jiang’s gaze was sharp and piercing, so intense that it could make a person’s legs go weak.

Although Le Gui had gotten used to being scrutinized by him after spending day and night together, she still felt a deep sense of guilt. “No, absolutely not.”

“You didn’t try to steal my magical artifacts?” Di Jiang clarified.

“Absolutely not!” Le Gui vowed solemnly.

[That’s impossible. I had been waiting for you to faint. There was no way I wouldn’t try to get my hands on Wuliangdu. But before touching it, I tested the waters by throwing another magical artifact at it first. It was instantly shattered by the restrictions on Wuliangdu. After that, I wouldn’t have dared to lay a finger on it.]

Di Jiang let out a low chuckle. The pale complexion on his face seemed to regain a hint of color. Just as he was about to let the matter drop, he noticed that she still looked guilty.

He paused for a moment and studied her with suspicion. “What else did you do?”

“Nothing! Definitely nothing,” Le Gui stammered, avoiding his gaze.

[Looking at me won’t work. I won’t fall for your trick again and admit to pinching your chest like last time!]

Di Jiang, who had indeed been trying to bait her: “…”

Le Gui’s eyes darted around guiltily, and when she looked back, she found Di Jiang still staring at her. His expression was even more terrifying than before.

Now, she was not just guilty—she was nervous. With a forced cough, she tugged at his floating sleeve in an attempt to placate him. “Your Lordship, why are you looking at me like that…”

Before she could finish, she was suddenly yanked into the pool.

Caught off guard, she swallowed a mouthful of water. The next moment, she was completely submerged, tangled in her floating robes.

“Help! Hel—”

Before she could cry for help, she flailed her way up and found herself face-to-face with Di Jiang.

She spat out a mouthful of water, her expression utterly sincere. “Your Lordship, you must believe me. I am absolutely loyal to you and have no ulterior motives whatsoever.”

Di Jiang cast her a cold glance. “You had better be.”

Le Gui wiped her face, about to reiterate her devotion, when she suddenly noticed something.

Di Jiang’s belt had loosened at some point, and his already loosely draped robes had fallen further open. Beneath them, his well-defined chest and abs were exposed, along with a deep wound across his abdomen.

It appeared to be a sword wound, several inches long and deep enough to expose bone. Tiny blue lights flickered across the surface of the wound.

Le Gui had never seen an injury like this before, her eyes wide with fascination. “Your Lordship, what is this?”

“The Soul-Extinguishing Formation leaves these glowing traces on wounds,” Di Jiang said, reclining against the edge of the pool with a languid air of injury-induced exhaustion.

Le Gui was even more intrigued. “This is my first time seeing a wound that glows.”

“You can touch it,” Di Jiang offered.

Le Gui hesitated for a moment, then looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Go ahead,” Di Jiang said generously.

Le Gui reached out—

And placed her hand on his abs.

Di Jiang: “…”

“You told me to,” Le Gui said innocently.

[I’m not an idiot. If you’re suddenly this generous, there’s definitely a trap.]

Di Jiang gave a refined smile—before promptly pushing her underwater again.

Le Gui flailed wildly, sending bubbles floating to the surface. It took her an immense effort to fight her way to the other side of the pool. She surfaced cautiously, watching him with wary eyes.

However, Di Jiang didn’t do anything further. He simply closed his eyes and began meditating to heal his injuries.

Le Gui wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but ever since Di Jiang began channeling his energy, the water in the pool gradually warmed up, settling at a comfortable temperature. Floating in the pool, she felt as if she had returned to the womb, enveloped in a soothing embrace.

[That must be an illusion. There’s no way this thing could make me feel like I’m back with my mother.]

She let out a soft hum and, without realizing it, drifted off to sleep.

She had no idea how long she had been asleep. When she woke up again, she saw Di Jiang still meditating with his eyes closed. Around him, countless jellyfish-like bubbles had gathered.

Feeling reassured, Le Gui closed her eyes again. “I’m still dreaming, it seems I haven’t woken up yet.”

Three seconds later, her eyes flew open in shock. The bubbles were multiplying at an alarming rate, nearly submerging Di Jiang.

“…Your Lordship, are you still alive?” she asked cautiously.

There was no response. Instead, she watched as even more bubbles formed around him. A sense of unease crept up her spine. She carefully started to rise, intending to leave the pool, but lost her balance and stumbled forward. Her hand accidentally plunged into one of the bubbles, and the next moment, she found herself crashing onto solid ground.

Ground? Wasn’t she just in the pool?

Le Gui looked around at the vast, boundless plain and the dark, hazy sky. Before she could fully process what was happening, the scene before her changed dramatically. The sky churned, thick with swirling demonic energy. The once-flat land trembled violently, and jagged peaks shot up toward the heavens like bamboo sprouts after a spring rain.

Standing amidst the chaos, Le Gui watched in horror as a massive boulder came hurtling toward her. She instinctively covered her head, but instead of being crushed, she watched the rock pass through her body and tumble into the abyss below.

The demonic energy grew denser, almost completely obscuring her vision. The sun and moon above began cycling at an unnatural speed, day and night flickering like a distorted slideshow. Around her, mountains that had just erupted from the earth flourished with plants and creatures, each blooming and fading in a matter of seconds.

Le Gui was too stunned to move, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the transformation.

Then, a baby’s cry pierced through the roaring winds.

A chill ran down her spine. A baby?

The demonic energy dissipated, revealing a clear spring in the heart of the mountain. Floating in the water was a snow-white, beautiful infant boy.

She watched as the child grew rapidly under the nourishment of heaven and earth’s spiritual energy, training relentlessly. That was when she realized what was happening—

She was witnessing fragments of Di Jiang’s past, ones that must have been significant to him.

Though she had no idea how she ended up here, there was no use worrying about it now. Since she was already here, she might as well sit back and watch.

The next scene shifted to his first battle.

It was immediately obvious that he had no prior combat experience. He struggled against his opponent, barely surviving after taking two devastating blows. Though he ultimately won, his once-white robes were drenched in blood.

After that, he started wearing red.

With each battle, his strength grew. Le Gui watched him fight from the Demon Realm to the Heavenly Realm and back again. He fought until there were no worthy opponents left. Eventually, he returned to the place where he had been born.

She saw him ask the Seer Mirror if there was anyone left in the world who could challenge him. The Seer Mirror told him there was none. A century later, a genius would emerge, but even they would be no match for him. From what the mirror could see, there would be no opponent worthy of him for at least ten thousand years, if ever.

Le Gui watched as he sat in silence upon his throne for what felt like an eternity. The sun and moon flickered past his eyelashes, casting warm hues upon his face. Yet, despite the light, he remained cold and motionless, like a lifeless statue.

Just watching him made her feel lonely.

Time blurred in this strange space. Based on what she could tell, he had sat on his throne for nearly a year before deciding to move again.

At first, he tried training on a different mountain every day.

It didn’t help.

He gathered musicians and performers to entertain him.

Still, nothing.

He even weakened his palace’s protective wards, allowing enemies to infiltrate and attempt their revenge.

Even that didn’t stir him.

The stronger one became, the longer they lived. At his level, his lifespan stretched endlessly into the future. He could foresee thousands, even tens of thousands of years ahead, all of them stagnant and unchanging.

It was unbearable.

So one night, after leaving Bi’an Terrace, he destroyed his meticulously crafted Cangqiong Palace and went to sit beneath a peach blossom tree, drinking and listening to music, ready to fade into obscurity.

Finally, Le Gui saw a familiar scene and perked up.

From an outsider’s perspective, she noticed something new. Before Di Jiang arrived, the peach blossoms had not been falling. It was only when he sat down that a strange, ethereal mist seeped from his body, prompting the petals to drift down. Neither she nor anyone else present that night had noticed the mist as it floated toward Cangqiong Palace.

Seeing ‘herself’ pour Di Jiang a drink from a third-person view was a bizarre experience. Unable to resist, she reached out to poke her own cheek. But before she could touch herself, water rushed in from all directions, swallowing her whole.

—

“Ugh! Cough, cough!”

She sat up, choking on water, only to find herself back in the pool. Gasping, she scrambled for the edge, desperately coughing out the water she had inhaled.

“Ugh! Cough, cough… blegh!”

Le Gui swore she had only meant to cough up water. So when a mouthful of thick black blood splattered onto the pool’s edge, she instinctively glanced at Di Jiang. Seeing that he hadn’t opened his eyes, she hurriedly took off her outer robe and frantically wiped the evidence away.

[Nine out of ten lunatics are clean freaks. If he sees this, I’m dead for sure!]

“What are you doing?” Di Jiang’s voice suddenly rang out.

Le Gui whipped around. “I’m here!”

She discreetly shifted to block his view of the bloodstained robe.

Di Jiang gave her a tired look. His face was even paler than before, but despite clearly noticing her suspicious behavior, he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he said coolly, “Come here.”

“…Why?” Le Gui asked with a nervous chuckle.

Di Jiang: “To suppress the Heartbinding Gu.”

She froze. “Really?”

“Fake.” His expression remained unreadable.

[If he says it’s fake, then it’s definitely real.]

Without hesitation, she waded over to him through the water. “Thank you, Your Lordship! You’re the best!”

Di Jiang didn’t even have the energy to respond to her nonsense. He simply lifted his hand and pressed his fingertips to her forehead. The moment his touch landed, a cooling sensation spread between her brows, and Le Gui stared at him in eager anticipation.

Di Jiang suddenly stopped moving, his expression growing more and more unreadable.

“…What’s wrong? Can’t suppress it?” Le Gui’s heart started pounding.

Di Jiang looked at her with a complicated expression. “That woman gave you fasting pills. Did you take them all?”

“I did.” Le Gui answered without hesitation.

Di Jiang frowned. “Didn’t you suspect they were poisoned?”

“Of course, but you told me to take them. You even repeated it twice,” Le Gui sniffled. “I figured since you insisted so much, you must have had your reasons, so I took them as instructed… What’s wrong with the fasting pills?”

“Nothing. That was the antidote for the Heartbinding Gu.” Di Jiang said casually.

Le Gui let out a sigh of relief. “I thought it was something serious. So it was just the antidote for the Heartbinding Gu—”

She abruptly cut off, her voice cracking with disbelief. “Wait… what?!”

A sudden realization struck her. “Then the black blood I’ve been coughing up all this time… It wasn’t because I was dying? I was just expelling poison?!”

Di Jiang stared at her in silence, for the first time feeling as if he couldn’t quite see through her.

She was afraid of him and didn’t trust him, yet she followed his instructions without fail. What kind of logic was that?

“Does stupidity bring its own fortune?” he mused.

Le Gui: “…”

[So he knew all along that the fasting pills were the antidote?! Then why didn’t he tell me?! I was scared out of my mind for days thinking I was dying!]

[And that damn Seer Mirror! That thing definitely knew too! When Yaoyao first left, it told me I had only one month left. Then a few days ago, it suddenly changed its tune and said I had two months! If it didn’t know, I’ll chop my head off and let it kick it around like a ball! So these two bastards just sat back and watched me struggle in misery for days?! If I hadn’t randomly decided to follow Di Jiang’s orders and take the fasting pills every day, would I be dead by now?!]

[Wait, no… I probably wouldn’t have died. Di Jiang was about to suppress the Gu for me just now, which means he never intended to let me die. He just enjoys playing with me like a cat with a mouse! That arrogant bastard! You conniving, heartless, shameless—]

Di Jiang closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the spring water. For once, he was able to enjoy a rare moment of relaxation.

Then, suddenly, the chaotic stream of thoughts in his mind vanished. The sleeping chamber fell silent once more, becoming as empty and dull as before.

Di Jiang lazily opened his eyes and saw Le Gui staring at him with a flushed face, looking completely at a loss.

“Your Lordship… I feel… weird.” Her eyes shimmered with confusion.

Di Jiang closed his eyes again. “That’s normal. After the Heartbinding Gu is cured, residual poison can cause different aftereffects depending on the person. Some people get fevers, some get headaches. It’s nothing serious. It’ll pass in a couple of hours.”

Le Gui didn’t respond.

Di Jiang remained still, soaking in the warm water. Even without using his divine sense, he could tell she was moving closer. He didn’t pay it any mind and was just about to take a nap when she suddenly slithered up to him like a snake, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Di Jiang opened his eyes again and saw her face had turned an even deeper shade of red.

“Your Lordship, you’re not wearing proper clothes. Are you trying to seduce me?” Le Gui said as she placed a hand on his chest.

Di Jiang: “…”

After living for tens of thousands of years, this was the first time he had seen someone whose aftereffect from the Heartbinding Gu was… lust.