“Hey, have you heard? Something big happened at this year’s Wutong Martial Banquet!”

“Of course I’ve heard! Our immortal realm has produced such a strikingly elegant figure—it’s already the talk of the Three Realms!”

“An Immortal Lord achieving immortality in just three years—this hasn’t happened in a thousand years! I heard the Lord Jinyao is planning to take him to the Heavenly Palace to become a disciple and personally teach him spiritual arts.”

“Tsk, tsk, this time Piaomiao can finally hold its head high. Chong Zhao, the new Immortal Lord, not only won the Wutong Martial Banquet for our immortal clan but also secured a hundred-mile blessed land—a great achievement indeed. With such talent in Piaomiao, I bet within a century, the Three Mountains’ supremacy will belong to them.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch. Kunlun and Yunxiao have millennia of deep heritage; it’s not so easy to replace them! And besides, what you’re talking about is small-scale stuff. Even though our immortal clan won the banquet, the ones who truly stole the spotlight were the demon clan. I heard the Palace Master of Haoyue stepped into the realm of demigods in the Yi City, slew malevolent spirits, subdued an evil dragon, and rescued the disciples of both immortals and demons before vanishing. It left the immortals of the Ninth Heavens utterly humiliated.”

“Ah, with the demon clan producing a demigod, I’m afraid in the coming century, our immortal clan will be at a disadvantage.”

“The Palace Master of Haoyue is already a renowned figure in the demon realm. Even as a demigod, his rank is merely on par with the Lord Jinyao. But this Chong Zhao, despite only cultivating for three years, has achieved such fortune. Give him a century, and he might surpass the Palace Master of Haoyue!”

“Exactly! You’re an immortal; how could you boost the morale of the demon clan while diminishing the prestige of the immortal clan?”

Amid the heated arguments in the teahouse, a fortune-telling stall nearby remained cold and desolate.

Bai Shuo, who had been napping all day, was finally awakened by the commotion.

Stretching lazily, she glanced at the three or four copper coins in the cracked wooden bowl, yawned, and tossed the tattered “Accurate in Every Fortune” banner into her little basket before packing up.

Ever since losing her apprentice, life had been quite miserable.

“Yo, Immortal Bai, heading home already?” the neighboring butcher, Old Song, hollered.

“The sun’s setting—time to sleep,” Bai Shuo replied.

“Where’s that little disciple of yours? Haven’t seen him for ages.”

“Don’t mention it. His family’s wealthy now; he’s gone home to enjoy life.”

Bai Shuo waved dismissively and walked away in her straw sandals.

As the sunset painted the sky, Old Song puffed on his pipe, blowing two smoke rings as he watched her retreating figure, small basket on her back.

He couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for her.

With a loud “boom,” half of Bai Shuo’s thatched cottage collapsed.

Covered in dirt and with her hair in disarray, she crawled out from under a crooked tree.

Two small paper figures waddled over, awkwardly holding a plate of charred fish.

Just as Bai Shuo was about to scold them, she saw their burnt and pitiful appearance.

Sighing in resignation, she swallowed the fish in a few bites and rolled up her sleeves to repair the house.

She worked late into the night, finally managing to patch up the shabby structure.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto a bamboo chair like a salted fish.
“Mumu, I’m thirsty…” she called weakly, but halfway through, her voice faltered.

Sighing, Bai Shuo got up and headed to the courtyard’s only well to fetch water.

After fumbling around for a bowl and finding none, she plucked a tree leaf, folded it into a makeshift cup, and lowered it into the deep well.

Her poor spellwork caused the leaf to tear halfway, spilling the water before she could retrieve a single drop.

Dizzy and unsteady, Bai Shuo leaned against the well for support.

She clutched her chest as her vision blurred.

Ever since giving her heart’s blood in the Yi City, her vitality had been waning.

If not for accidentally consuming the Wutong Heartfire, she reckoned she might already be dead.

“Master!”

A voice suddenly rang out nearby.

Bai Shuo jerked her head up, barely making out a young figure running toward her.

“Mumu!”

Her eyes lit up with surprise, and she reached out to touch him, only for her hand to pass through his body.

What’s going on? Bai Shuo looked at her palm in confusion.

When she raised her eyes again, the old locust tree still stood, and under it lay a sleeping version of herself.

Turning back, her little disciple had already reached the well.

Carefully, he drew water and hurried off toward the back of the cottage.

Bai Shuo immediately followed.

In the dimly lit kitchen, a small stove crackled with flames.

The disciple poured the well water into a small pot, added a few glowing petals infused with spiritual energy, and sneakily scooped a spoonful of jade pond water from a hidden jar.

Outside the kitchen, Bai Shuo stood dumbfounded.

Peony fairy grass, jade pond spiritual water—these were rare treasures on the black market! Where had this little rascal gotten them?

Recalling the occasional disappearance of spiritual pearls from her storage bag, Bai Shuo nearly exploded in fury.

No wonder her spellcasting hadn’t improved since arriving in Nanhai City, yet the spiritual energy within her had become much more stable than when she was on Piaomiao Island.

That spendthrift! Using such rare spiritual materials to brew her tea!

While Bai Shuo silently grumbled in her mind, the water in the small pot boiled.

Her little disciple quickly poured it into a bamboo bowl and happily carried it outside.

Turning her head, Bai Shuo saw the young man crouched beside the bamboo chair, carefully holding the tea and softly calling,

“Master, the tea is ready.”

The person lounging on the chair lazily got up, stretched, and drained the tea in one gulp, smacking her lips in satisfaction.

She patted the young man’s head and said,

“Mumu’s tea is the best! So sweet! Disciple, make more tomorrow!”

“Okay.”

The young man’s lips curved into a smile, joy radiating from his brows.

Not far away, Bai Shuo, watching with a dark expression, was overcome with regret.

She felt utterly foolish and even wanted to kick herself.

Just as she looked up, the young man under the tree turned his head and glanced in her direction.

Those eyes seemed to truly see her.

He gazed at her longingly, lips pressed together, looking a little aggrieved.

“Mu…”

Bai Shuo’s throat tightened.

She instinctively stepped toward the old locust tree, but the moment she lifted her foot, a flash of light appeared.

The blurry figures under the tree dissolved into tiny starlight, scattering before her.

Among the scattered light, the young man’s clear, sorrowful eyes stayed fixed on her.

A breeze passed by, leaving nothing but faint moonlight filtering through the leaves and the squeaky bamboo chair under the tree.

It was a remnant illusion spell—nothing advanced, something any immortal cultivator could cast.

Standing amidst the withered grass in the yard, Bai Shuo pursed her lips.

How had she ended up with such a disciple? And who said he was a fool?

He knew exactly how to tug at her heartstrings.

But Mumu… that was a millennia-old big demon.

As your master, I can’t win against him…

With a dejected sigh, Bai Shuo turned around, only to step on something hard.

Looking down, she found a translucent jade flute.

Ah Zhao…

Bai Shuo froze, picking it up and holding it tightly in her hand.

She glanced around at her messy, dark, desolate courtyard and clenched the jade flute with determination.

Enough!

Whether he’s a demigod or about to ascend to the Ninth Heavens as Jinyao’s disciple, if she didn’t go and demand an explanation from those two idiots about why they abandoned her, this resentment in her heart would never dissipate—even if she lived another hundred years!

Without hesitation, Bai Shuo rummaged through the kitchen, grabbing a jar hidden in a corner.

She slung her tattered bag over her shoulder and slapped a flight talisman against her chest.

In a flash, she disappeared into the moonlight.

On Wutong Phoenix Island, in the Xiaoyao Pavilion, Fan Yue sat slouched on a couch.

The faint aroma of incense filled the air, and his red robe spilled over half the couch, revealing a faintly glowing star array on his chest.

Though the Wutong Martial Banquet had ended with the victory of a young immortal from the immortal clan, the major incident that occurred midway had sparked disputes over the division of the Hundred-Mile Blessed Land on the border of the two realms.

To maintain fairness, both immortal and demon elders had been invited back to the Phoenix Island by the Feng Clan.

In the present-day Three Realms, the demon clan had, besides Zhen Yu, Chang Mei, the newly ascended demigod Fan Yue.

By comparison, the immortal clan had only seen Jinyao ascend to demigod status in the past millennium.

Were it not for Phoenix Emperor Feng Yin’s divine presence anchoring the Feng Clan and her close ties with the immortal clan, the demon clan might already hold an edge over the immortals.

The Palace Master of Haoyue, known for his aloof temperament, was infamous across the Three Realms.

Since Xiaoyao Pavilion was the quietest place, the Feng Clan had arranged for him to stay there, right next to the Wutong Forest and the Phoenix Emperor’s quarters.

A roasted chicken had been sitting untouched on the nanmu table in front of the couch for over an hour, yet the figure on the couch remained motionless.

Outside the door, Hua Hong nudged the massive guard Cangshan and peeked inside.

“Tsk tsk tsk, not even eating roasted chicken. You think he’s trying to die or something?”

Cang Shan kept his gaze straight ahead, ignoring the audacious woman beside him.

Hua Hong poked him again.

“You didn’t see it, huh? Oh, the way those two in the Yi city were all over each other—hugging, kissing—just short of tossing each other in the air like kids. You think that ancestor in there still remembers…”

Swish!

The stray strands of hair on the blacksmith’s forehead were cleanly sliced in two.

A silver chain grazed her cheek, icy and swift, before snapping back into the room.

Hua Hong froze, her eyes wide, not daring to breathe.

“Come in,” a cold voice called from inside.

Cang Shan cast Hua Hong a glance.

She exhaled deeply, shrugging off her playful demeanor, and followed him into the room.

On the couch, Fan Yue toyed with the silver chain in his hands, his gaze landing coolly on Hua Hong.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she immediately sobered.

Great.

The master had truly returned.

“Palace Master,” Cang Shan rumbled, “Elder Feng Xian has sent word. In three days, the Feng Clan will convene a dual assembly to formally grant the Heartfire to Chong Zhao, the Piaomiao disciple, and discuss the division of the Hundred-Mile Blessed Land between the immortal and demon clans.”

Hua Hong raised an eyebrow.

“After this mess of a martial banquet, the Feng Clan taking the reins like this must mean they’ve already reached a decision. With three demigods among us demons now, does the immortal clan really think they can still compete?”

Hua Hong was always bold, even in front of Fan Yue.

“The Phoenix Emperor remains. What do the immortals have to fear?”

Fan Yue’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“But the true enemy of the Haoyue Palace  is no longer the immortal clan.”

Hua Hong’s expression darkened.

“You mean… the one behind the chaos in the Yi city?”

Fan Yue nodded and walked to the door, his gaze sweeping over the vast pavilions of Phoenix Island.

His eyes lingered for a moment on Qianqiu Pavilion in the far west.

After entering Phoenix Island, Zhen Yu had been residing in Qianqiu Pavilion.

“This entire martial banquet in the Yi city was set up for me. Tell me, who in the Three Realms wants me dead the most?”

Cang Shan spoke in a deep voice.

“The immortals pride themselves on their purity. They wouldn’t stoop to sacrificial evil rituals involving other clans.”

Fan Yue turned to Hua Hong.

“Yet this orchestrator not only knew my movements but also your identity. With the Tiger Clan annihilated, their goal is to unify the demon clan. For that, both Chang Mei and I must die.”

“Wishful thinking! That coward can only skulk in the shadows, playing dirty tricks. I’ll tear apart his lair!”

Hua Hong’s eyes burned with rage as she prepared to storm out.

“Come back,” Fan Yue commanded coldly.

“You scoured the Yi King’s Palace and found no trace of him. He’s already a demigod. Even I may not be able to kill him outright. The feud between Cold Spring and Haoyue is one of life and death; there’s no need to rush.”

“Yes.”

Hua Hong suppressed her frustration, then suddenly asked, “After awakening, has the Palace Master’s cultivation improved?”

Fan Yue glanced at her, understanding her meaning.

“The reason I was able to sever the black dragon’s spirit that day was that its divinity was suddenly awakened. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been certain of victory.”

“You awakened the black dragon’s divinity?”

“It wasn’t me,” Fan Yue replied after a pause.

“Demigod cultivation cannot awaken the Dragon God’s consciousness.”

Hua Hong froze.

“If even you couldn’t do it, who else in the stone palace could have awakened the Dragon God’s divinity?”

The orchestrator had sacrificed an entire Yi race to suppress the Dragon God’s divinity, turning it into a weapon of slaughter.

If even Fan Yue couldn’t awaken it, then who could?

An impish face suddenly flitted through Fan Yue’s mind.

His brow furrowed just as a wutong leaf drifted down from the courtyard tree, landing in his palm.

His expression shifted, and he turned to leave.

“I’ll be in seclusion for a few days. I’ll attend the dual assembly in three days. Unless it’s urgent, don’t disturb me.”

He departed swiftly.

Hua Hong raised an eyebrow and remarked, “She’s returned to Nanhai City. With her wits and her instinct for self-preservation, she won’t involve herself in matters of the two realms again.”

Fan Yue paused briefly but continued into the inner chamber.

Once he was gone, Cang Shan visibly relaxed.

Hua Hong gave him a sidelong glance and smirked.

“Why bring up that half-immortal again? Since the master met her, nothing good has come of it.”

“You idiot. She tricked our master into being her disicple, nearly got him killed in the Yi city, and yet her little head is still perfectly intact! Who else could pull that off? Pretending she doesn’t exist? What good would that do?”

Hua Hong rolled her eyes and sauntered out.

****

In the depths of the wutong forest, atop the massive ancient tree, a woman in plain robes lay lazily on a branch, a wooden gourd tied at her waist.

A flash of light later, Fan Yue appeared beneath the tree, despite claiming he was entering seclusion.

The woman on the branch opened her eyes, stretched, and looked down at him.

“Palace Master of Haoyue.”

“Summoned by the Phoenix Emperor—may I ask why?”

Fan Yue gazed at the only god still residing in the mortal realm, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise.

He had heard of this particular Phoenix Emperor—a phoenix that defied the heavens, becoming god in just a century.

For an ordinary member of the immortal clan, her age would still be considered that of a young girl.

But upon meeting her gaze, he realized the rumors were untrue.

Her eyes bore the weight of millennia, rich with the vicissitudes of life.

The Feng Yin stretched lazily.

(T/N: Feng Yin FL from the last immortal..if you ever watch the cdrama or read the novel)

“In a few days, it will be my master’s birthday. I plan to go on a journey and have a matter I’d like to entrust to you, Palace master of the Haoyue.”

Her voice was crisp and lively, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Yet even with Fan Yue’s composed nature, he was briefly taken aback.

Until this moment, he and the Phoenix Emperor hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries, much less had any form of connection.

Her words seemed oddly intimate for a first meeting.

“And what might that be? Please, do tell, Your Majesty,” he responded, maintaining his calm demeanor despite his puzzlement.

The Phoenix Emperor suddenly leaped down from the tree and landed directly in front of him.

“What did you just say?”

Fan Yue blinked.

“Your Majesty, please, do tell.”

“Say that again?”

A vein throbbed faintly at Fan Yue’s temple.

“Your Majesty… please, do tell.”

The Phoenix Emperor coughed, rubbing her chin as she circled him, her expression indescribably peculiar.

Finally, Fan Yue frowned slightly, his voice deepening, “Phoenix Emperor… Your Majesty?”

What in the world was going on with the phoenix clan? Was this god perhaps… an idiot?

As that thought crossed his mind, a faint twitch pulled at the corner of his lips.

He could almost imagine a certain half-immortal hopping around him, yelling “The Phoenix Emperor is an idiot!” in that insufferable tone of hers.

Noticing the impatience flicker in his gaze, the Feng Yin snapped back to attention.

She jumped back a step, waved her hand, and coughed awkwardly.

“I recently caught a chill, my health’s been poor, and my hearing isn’t what it used to be. I beg the Lord’s indulgence.”

Fan Yue was speechless.

Were it not for the unmistakable divine aura radiating from her, he would’ve thought he was dealing with some kind of ghost.

Ridiculous!

Internally, Feng Yin was bursting with laughter.

She suspected this proud ancestor had never once uttered the word “please” in his life .

hehe… Feng Yin was so happy.

With a straight face, she managed to contain her amusement, though she quietly turned away to mutter under her breath.

“What did you just say?”

Seeing Feng Yin’s mysterious look, Fan Yue’s eyebrows twitched.

“Nothing, nothing…”

Before he could press her further, the Feng Yin opened her palm, and a wooden box appeared, emanating pure spiritual energy.

Fan Yue’s expression darkened as he scrutinized the box, his gaze sharpening.

“What is the meaning of this, Your Majesty?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect the Haoyue palace master to act without compensation. This box contains my token of gratitude.”

Fan Yue narrowed his eyes.

“And how did Your Majesty come by such an item?”

“Surely you know that divine wood has a life of its own and is drawn to spiritual energy. Several years ago, a shard of sacred wood fell near the Phoenix Ancestral Tree. I found it intriguing and decided to keep it. When you entered the island, I sensed its resonance and realized it belongs to you.”

Fan Yue’s expression turned solemn as he stepped closer.

“Does Your Majesty know the origin of this object?”

“Ancient bodhi wood. I’m not so blind as to miss that, nor your true nature, Lord.”

“And does Your Majesty know why, eight years ago, I lost my true form and, as a spirit transformed into a demon, ended up in the demon realm?”

Fan Yue’s eyes burned with intensity.

“That, I do not know. This world is fraught with calamities—you may have failed your tribulation,” the Phoenix Emperor replied with a shrug.

Then, with surprising seriousness, she added, “But rest assured, Lord, there are no past grievances between us.”

Fan Yue calmed himself.

Given her exalted status, the Phoenix Emperor had no reason to lie.

Whatever had caused him to fail his tribulation and lose his true form would only be clear once he fully restored himself.

Resolute, he accepted the box from her hands.

“What does Your Majesty wish of me? Please speak plainly, and I will see it done.”

“It’s not much. In a few days, I’ll owe a younger generation a favor. Before they ascend to godhood, I need you to find them a Dao companion and officiate the marriage yourself.”

“…What?”

Fan Yue froze, thinking he had misheard.

“You heard me,” she said with a straight face, suddenly leaning in with two fingers raised.

“My request is simple: matchmaking. You’ll learn who the person is in a few days.”

Fan Yue’s expression darkened.

Before he could explode, a flash of divine light enveloped the Feng Yin.

She transformed into phoenix and soared into the skies.

“This is my request. Haoyue Palace Master, you must fulfill it! Until we meet again!”

Clouds shifted, the moonlight dimmed through the phoenix trees, and Feng Yin vanished into the sky.

Fan Yue glanced down at the bodhi wood in his hands, his temples throbbing.

Meanwhile, in the distant Qiangqiu Pavilion,Zhen Yu stood watching the divine light fade into the horizon.

He murmured softly, “She actually left.”

“Who is the Palace master referring to?” asked Fu Ling, utterly oblivious to the divine disturbance.

Zhen Yu did not answer, his expression unreadable.

Fu Ling hesitantly added, “Palace master, though Fan Yue escaped this time, it’s not as if we came away empty-handed.”

“Go on.”

“It seems the Haoyue Palace Master has a weakness. If we exploit it properly, Haoyue Palace will no longer be impenetrable.”

Zhen Yu chuckled faintly, his gaze sharpening.

“The Haoyue Palace has weaknesses, as does my own retinue. When did you plant the ling flower armor on that boy?”

Fu Ling froze in shock.

***

Elsewhere on the northern edge of Phoenix Island, Songfeng  sat in a quiet chamber, letting a blackened gold elixir disintegrate into ash in his palm.

“Traitor,” he muttered, coughing softly.

His already aged face looked utterly weary.

“Second Uncle…” Eryun quickly brought a bowl of spiritual-infused medicinal soup to Songfeng and handed it over.

“Senior Brother’s downfall is of his own making. Please don’t let it grieve you further. Take care of your health.”

Songfeng waved his hand dismissively.

“How could I not know? From a young age, he was arrogant and self-centered. Even after a century under my tutelage, he never managed to rid himself of greed and ambition. If I had sent him to the Heavenly Palace for punishment earlier, he wouldn’t have caused such a catastrophe!”

“Uncle Master, don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t bear to harm him—it shows your compassion,” Chong Zhao consoled.

Songfeng glanced at Chong Zhao with a look of comfort.

“Zhao’er, thank goodness for you. Were it not for your efforts in the Yi city—helping the Haoyue Palace Master destroy the evil spirit and rescuing countless young disciples of both the immortal and demon clans—our sect would have faced annihilation this time.”

“Uncle Master…” Chong Zhao hesitated, wanting to say more, but Songfeng heavily patted his hand.

“Lord Jinyao has summoned you to the Heavenly Palace for spiritual training. On this journey to the Yi city, you’ve even formed a life-death friendship with a Kunlun sword cultivator. It seems this disaster has turned into a blessing for you. Zhao’er, learn from your Senior Brother’s mistakes. Never get involved with demons and evil spirits, lest you repeat his fate!”

The image of the shattered Ling flower armor flashed through Chong Zhao’s mind as Songfeng’s worried coughs broke the silence.

Snapping back to reality, Chong Zhao replied solemnly, “Yes, disciple will heed Uncle Master’s teachings.”

Late into the night, Chong Zhao left Songfeng’s courtyard, pausing intermittently before stopping at a stone pavilion.

With two clans gathered on Phoenix Island, the distant lights glowed brightly as disciples from various factions strolled by in groups.

Yet, the Songfeng pavillion where the Piaomiao Sect resided remained eerily quiet.

Under the moonlight, Chong Zhao pulled out a jade flute from his robes.

A faint smile appeared on his lips, but his eyes were soon clouded by the memory of Bai Shuo rushing toward Fan Yue in the stone palace.

His chest heaved, and a burst of murky energy surged within him.

Letting out a muffled groan, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his face turned deathly pale.

Suddenly, a stream of spiritual energy poured into his spiritual platform from behind, stabilizing his wavering Dao heart and preventing him from falling into demonic deviation.

“If you’re injured, focus on recovery! A wavering Dao heart will lead to disaster if you’re not careful!”

Startled by the scolding voice,

Chong Zhao turned to see who it was.

His expression shifted but he said nothing.

Fu ling raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in her tone.

“Why are you staring at me like that? Why aren’t you calling me a demoness this time?”

“Thank you,” Chong Zhao suddenly said.

Fu ling froze.

“What…what did you say?”

Chong Zhao repeated, “Thank you for saving me on multiple occasions.”

Fu ling’s lips curled into a smirk.

“At least you have some conscience. What’s this? After spending a few days with that little fox from the Fox Clan in the Yi city, you’ve softened your stance toward us demons?”

Shaking his head, Chong Zhao replied solemnly, “Immortals and demons are fundamentally different. I do not wish to have any further entanglements with you.”

“You—!” Fu ling’s anger flared, her face turning icy.

“Ungrateful wretch!”

She turned to leave, but Chong Zhao’s voice stopped her.

“You has saved me on multiple occasions. If there is ever anything you need of me, as long as it doesn’t compromise the immortal Dao or endanger my sect, I will do my utmost to repay the favor.”

Fu ling froze mid-step, then pulled out a porcelain bottle and tossed it to him.

“Who wants your repayment? With your current level of cultivation, you’re far from worthy!”

Turning on her heel, Fu ling left without looking back.

Chong Zhao stared at the bottle in his hand and sighed.

***

Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, Bai Shuo was flying unsteadily through the clouds, carrying a small bundle.

A gust of wind swept past, instantly disrupting her flight spell.

“AAAAHHHHH! I’m doomed—this is it! Waaaah!”

A miserable scream echoed as Bai Shuo plummeted through the clouds toward the ground below.