Chapter 13

Feng Fuming led Liu Shuang through the floating pavilions of the heavenly realm, arriving at the grand gate of the heavenly realm.

(T/N: I previously translated this into the immortal realm, but the more accurate translation is the heavenly realm/celestial realm where the Heavenly Lord Feng Fuming rules and resides (I also changed Feng Fuming title from immortal lord to heavenly lord)… whereas Canglan Lake can only be considered an immortal land where a group of immortals live… I decided to change this to avoid confusion in later chapters….)

Liu Shuang had never been to the Heavenly Realm before. Unlike the Ghost Realm, the pure white Heavenly Realm seemed brimming with clean, abundant spiritual energy.

Heavenly maidens emerged in an orderly manner, swiftly setting up a resting place for negotiations at the gate.

One of the maidens, dressed in white, carried spiritual fruits and a teacup, while two others gently fanned Feng Fuming.

Liu Shuang, bound tightly, was thrown at his feet.

Liu Shuang sat cross-legged, not bothering to look back at Feng Fuming.

Instead, she gazed at the vast expanse of the Heavenly Realm. Since birth, she has been to four places: Canglan Lake, the Mortal World, the Demon Realm, and the Ghost Realm. The Heavenly Realm was evidently different from any place she had been before.

Countless auspicious birds with long tail feathers flew by, their beauty indescribable. Liu Shuang stared in a daze. Despite the beauty before her, she thought of her own Qingluan.

Qingluan was a demonic bird. Living in the barren Ghost Realm, it and the Chiyan could only nest among rocks, unlike these free heavenly birds that leisurely groomed their feathers in a world full of spiritual energy.

In the past, during battles with Yan Chaosheng, Qingluan and the Chiyan had to fight even if injured.

As the Demon and Ghost Realms gradually gained status, battles became less harsh. Following Liu Shuang, Qingluan’s life improved somewhat.

Liu Shuang looked at the serene and spiritually rich Heavenly Realm, suddenly understanding why Yan Chaosheng had waged wars for a hundred years.

A spiritual fruit was brought to her lips. Liu Shuang looked up to see Feng Fuming smiling.

“Do you like these birds? They’re called Qinggui. Shall I give you one?”

“Thank you, Heavenly Lord, but no need.”

Liu Shuang initially wanted to avoid the spiritual fruit offered by Feng Fuming, but paused and then ate it.

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

Feng Fuming eyed her.

“You seem to be enjoying them. There’s half a moment left until the appointed time. Aren’t you worried that Yan Chaosheng won’t come?”

Liu Shuang swallowed the spiritual fruit without saying a word.

After days of traveling, her spiritual energy was almost exhausted. The few spiritual fruits alleviated her immediate crisis, and she felt immortal energy gradually circulating within her.

In the past, she would never have accepted anything from Feng Fuming, relying solely on her husband to rescue her.

But after being blocked outside the Ghost Realm, she realized that in this world, she could rely on no one but herself. If anything happened, the immortal energy within her would at least give her a chance to protect herself.

Feng Fuming tapped his fingers on the jade table, which held a colorful hourglass. The sand was running low, and the vast Heavenly Realm remained empty, with no sign of anyone.

Liu Shuang also watched the hourglass. When the last grain of sand fell, the Heavenly Realm remained silent, and Yan Chaosheng still hadn’t come.

Feng Fuming looked at Liu Shuang, expecting to see sorrow or pain on her face. Instead, she was calmer than he anticipated, lightly pressing her lips together without saying a word.

“He hasn’t come. Are you disappointed?” Feng Fuming said.

“It seems the rumors are true. Yan Chaosheng married a consort but treats her as dispensable. For a hundred years, he hasn’t given her any rights in the Demon or Ghost Realms, nor taken her to any banquets, merely using her as a stand-in for Mi Chu.”

Feng Fuming lifted Liu Shuang’s chin with a jade flute, sighing with pity.

“Immortal Liu Shuang, he doesn’t even care about what miserable fate you might meet in my hands.”

His words were like a sharp needle piercing Liu Shuang’s heart. Her pupils contracted, and she stubbornly gritted her teeth, refusing to show any sign of disappointment or fear.

In truth, she wanted Yan Chaosheng to come and save her more than anyone. Liu Shuang knew she couldn’t remain captive to Feng Fuming. The Canglan lake was still waiting for rescue. If Yan Chaosheng didn’t come, she and the entire Canglan Lake would be buried in winter before seeing the spring of the mortal world.

As the hourglass emptied, deep sorrow almost made her tears fall.

Even after being freed, her memories still clung to her belief in that person, believing Yan Chaosheng could shield her as he had for the past hundred years. Even amid sky-thundering tribulations, he stood arrogantly before her in his black robe, a war god who could weather all storms.

If Yan Chaosheng had never been kind to Liu Shuang, she wouldn’t have held on to hope. But he had protected her time and again for a hundred years, making her think that even if he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t truly abandon her.

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

Liu Shuang wouldn’t cry in front of Feng Fuming. Yan Chaosheng wasn’t a good person, and neither was Feng Fuming. She wouldn’t expose her feelings to this man for his amusement.

Feng Fuming looked at her with regret.

“You’re not even sad. I was expecting a good show. Let’s go, little pitiable one. As my prisoner, you’ll have to repay Yan Chaosheng’s grudge against me. After all, the demon lord wasn’t kind to my subordinates recently.”

He gritted his teeth at the last few words.

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

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Liu Shuang quickly turned around. The newcomer was dressed in a blue robe, holding a jade fan, and wearing a refined silk scarf—a picture of propriety.

“Lord Su Lun!”

“Greetings, Heavenly Lord. Greetings, Immortal Liu Shuang. My lord, the Demon Lord, has sent me to discuss a transaction with the Heavenly Lord.”

“Oh?” Feng Fuming glanced at Liu Shuang, smiling lazily but with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Yan Chaosheng sent you to negotiate instead of coming himself. Does he look down on me, or is he so afraid that he wants to hide like a turtle?”

Su Lun responded with unwavering composure, “Heavenly Lord, you and our Demon Lord have fought for a hundred years. Has our Lord ever retreated? Today, the Demon Lord could not come because Immortal Mi Chu’s soul is unstable, and he must help her. You should know that jumping into the transcendent mirror means entering the cycle of rebirth. Immortal Mi Chu’s body is in poor condition, and your extraction of her life-bonding jade bamboo has worsened her state.”

“You came here for Mi Chu?”

“Indeed,” Su Lun said with a smile, taking out an exquisite box.

“I heard the Heavenly Lord has been seeking the Floating Red Lotus for hundreds of years in vain. Coincidentally, it is one of the treasures of the Demon Realm. Today, we are willing to offer it to you, on one condition…”

Su Lun’s gaze slid over to Liu Shuang.

“As long as the Heavenly Lord hands over the remnants of Immortal Mi Chu’s life-bonding jade bamboo.”

Feng Fuming’s smile widened.

“I do indeed need the Floating Red Lotus. Su Lun, I’ll give you a choice: take this little immortal grass or the broken jade bamboo.”

Su Lun’s eyes remained steady. “Our Demon Lord requires only immortal Mi Chu’s life-bonding jade bamboo.”

“Very well, take it.”

Feng Fuming tossed something from his hand. What had been a flute transformed into a transparent, jade-like spiritual object.

It turned out that Feng Fuming had been toying with Mi Chu’s life-bonding bamboo, disguised as a flute.

Su Lun kept his promise and handed over the Floating Red Lotus.

Feng Fuming said, “Give Yan Chaosheng a message from me. His consort is extremely beautiful. It’s a pity she’ll have to serve my rough forest guards.”

Su Lun smiled.

“The Heavenly Lord jests. Our Demon Lord has never had a consort. Farewell.”

Su Lun’s figure receded into the distance, leaving only the silhouettes of a few Qinggui birds flying by. Feng Fuming didn’t even look at the Floating Red Lotus, tossing it to a heavenly maiden behind him.

He said to Liu Shuang, “So, in his eyes, you aren’t even worth a broken piece of jade bamboo. Poor thing, huh? How did you end up in such a state?”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Mi Chu is known as the most beautiful woman in the Eight Wilderness. How come you, with a similar face, look so wretched?”

Liu Shuang remained silent, her heart aching. The Immortal Binding Rope cut deeply into her flesh. When she saw Lord Su Lun, her joy was indescribable.

But Su Lun had come only for Mi Chu’s life-bonding jade bamboo.

A hundred years of companionship, and she was the only one who had taken it seriously.

Liu Shuang was taken back to the heavenly palace. Feng Fuming leaned close, maliciously whispering, “Dress nicely. Tonight, you’ll be sent away. Those forest guards have worked hard. You’re the biggest reward I’ve given them in a thousand years. How about this? Tell me Yan Chaosheng’s weakness, and I’ll let you go. Deal?”

Liu Shuang opened her mouth.

She desperately wanted to leave. No one could understand her torment, the impending fate, or the doom of the Canglan lake. All of it drove her to despair.

She did harbor some resentment towards Yan Chaosheng, but she knew Feng Fuming was untrustworthy. Even if he verified the truth, it would likely be too late to save Canglan Lake. Even if he were trustworthy, revealing Yan Chaosheng’s secrets would mean undoing his century-long efforts.

Su Lun, Fu Heng, Qingluan, Chiyan, Chang Huan…

And the rhino demon who had once protected her—all of them would be killed, one by one.

Drained of energy, she thought of Chang Huan, who was still guarding her courtyard. She shook her head.

“I don’t know anything.”

Feng Fuming squinted at her, reluctantly admitting that he was somewhat envious of Yan Chaosheng.

If it were Mi Chu, she would have revealed everything long ago for her people and herself.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

It didn’t matter.

If Yan Chaosheng didn’t want her, he was happy to have her.

There was plenty of time.

The maids took Liu Shuang away. Feng Fuming met Lord Junxi. Despite not retrieving Mi Chu, Feng Fuming was unusually cheerful.

Lord Junxi noticed his good mood.

“Heavenly Lord, is there good news?”

Feng Fuming smiled. “Of course. Pass the word: tonight, I shall marry and bestow the title of concubine.”

Although he had intended to provoke Yan Chaosheng and frighten Liu Shuang, he hadn’t truly planned to let her be humiliated.

The little immortal grass was rather endearing, holding back tears, unwilling to show weakness. She was a simple person, with all her emotions written in her eyes, though she thought she hid them well.

Disappointment and sorrow—she was truly heartbroken. Most of what Feng Fuming had said was to trick her, to see if she’d reveal Yan Chaosheng’s secrets in her disappointment.

After all, having been enemies with Yan Chaosheng for hundreds of years, this man truly irritated and vexed him.

But Liu Shuang said nothing.

Several heavenly maidens took Liu Shuang away, carefully washing her. The Immortal Binding Rope on her body remained, so she had no choice but to let them handle her.

In the misty pool filled with immortal energy, the maids glanced at her, their eyes briefly showing a hint of amazement.

Having reached the end of her rope, Liu Shuang became completely calm.

Today, seeing Mi Chu’s jade bamboo reminded her of something else. She felt her heart beating beneath her palm.

In the Eight Wilderness, everyone has a spiritual essence, the foundation of cultivation, and the core of the soul’s cohesion. As long as the spiritual essence remains, one can live for a long time. Without it, one would be like Mi Chu, with an unstable soul, possibly even dying.

Liu Shuang had lost everything.

Alone now, the only thing she had left was her heart.

At her place of birth, Grandpa Tree had told her that this was her spiritual essence. Normally, little immortal grass wouldn’t have a heart; it would just be a cold, purple stone.

Then, one day, it started beating, just like a mortal’s heart.

Mi Chu sacrificed her life-bonding jade bamboo to stay by Yan Chaosheng’s side. Liu Shuang could also shatter this heart to escape from the Heavenly realm and return to the Canglan Lake. Whether she lived or died, she wanted to find her true self and be with her clan.

She touched her heart.

It beat so strongly. She had used this heart to love Yan Chaosheng for a hundred years, to feel joy, sorrow, and pain. Now she had to break it herself, severing all ties to the past.

“Go back,” she heard a voice say.

“Go home.”