The moment she called out Shaoyou’s name, Yan Chaosheng’s heart turned cold.

It was also at that moment he finally realized just how foolish his actions had been.

Falling into the ice lake with her, he thought to himself that if he had another chance, he would never look back.

He should never have yearned for that fleeting, illusory warmth.

How could he have been so deluded by such unrealistic desires to venture into the Ghost King’s Tomb?

Watching her awaken and instinctively lean toward Shaoyou, his heart was filled with even greater disdain.

Take your romance and get far away—he didn’t want it in his sight.

He admitted that he regretted it.

No longer blinded by those delusions, Yan Chaosheng now had only one goal: survival.

Whether they lived or died, no matter how deeply they wanted to bind their lives together in this place, he had to get out.

So, when Shaoyou mentioned the ghost stone plum, his first reaction was to search for it.

Borrowing a sword from Shaoyou was not something Yan Chaosheng was confident about.

In his experience, immortals treated their swords like treasures.

Many of these immortal swords developed sentience after tens of thousands of years, becoming as indispensable as an arm.

Yet the young master of Jimo showed no hesitation, handing over the immortal sword without a second thought.

When Yan Chaosheng held it in his hand, his expression remained stoic, but a complicated feeling stirred in his heart.

This was a true immortal—pure and radiant, as clear as sunlight and moonlight.

He didn’t harbor the petty, self-serving thoughts Yan often did.

Nor did he need to claw his way upward by any means necessary.

Yan Chaosheng had always feigned disdain for such people, but in truth, he envied them deeply.

The more magnanimous Shaoyou seemed, the darker the corners of Yan Chaosheng’s own heart appeared in contrast.

Gripping the sword, Yan Chaosheng glanced at the girl draped in Jimo Shaoyou’s immortal robe.

Her wide, blinking eyes brimmed with wariness and fear, as if convinced he might harm her at any moment.

Perceptive.

He truly regretted it all—coming to this wretched place was sheer madness.

They didn’t find the ghost stone plum.

When the ice cracked, Yan Chaosheng was near Liu Shuang.

On reflex, he reached out and grabbed her.

Yan Chaosheng had spent hours freezing in the snow, while she had been sweetly sleeping beside Jimo Shaoyou, warmed by his immortal robe.

As his fingers brushed the skin of her neck, her eyes widened like a startled, dying deer.

Utterly terrified.

An inexplicable surge of anger flared in his chest.

He wanted to shove her into the icy lake.

Was he truly so vile in her eyes?

All he could do was coldly say, “Summon your Jiangzhu Umbrella. At least it’ll hold out for a while.”

The three of them barely managed to stay afloat for a moment before the Henggong Fish attacked again.

Yan Chaosheng’s heart sank—today, they would likely meet their end here.

Even unleashing his demon eye proved useless.

He was unwilling to accept it.

Unexpectedly, Jimo Shaoyou sacrificed himself to block the Henggong Fish, using the immortal sword to send them into temporary safety.

Yan Chaosheng saw Liu Shuang rushing toward Shaoyou without hesitation.

He couldn’t tell if the chill in his heart was greater than the bitterness.

The demon bird that saved them circled overhead.

Sharing its demonic lineage, Yan Chaosheng naturally understood its demands.

It wanted them to dive into the water and retrieve an egg.

Yan Chaosheng coldly observed, having no intention of moving or translating for it.

He was incredibly irritated, wanting nothing more than to distance himself from this cursed Liu Shuang.

If there were a next time…

Before he could finish the thought, the girl beside him suddenly leapt into the ice lake.

Not only Yan Chaosheng, but even Shaoyou was caught off guard.

“Young miss Chishui!”

She swam through the water toward the sinking egg.

The blue bird’s cries grew increasingly frantic as it hovered anxiously above her entry point.

Moments later, someone surfaced.

The girl, drenched and trembling, carefully cradled the egg as she rose atop the immortal sword.

The blue bird circled her incessantly, its piercing cries unrelenting.

Yan Chaosheng looked over.

The girl stood there, water dripping from her body.

She stared blankly at the egg in her hands, her expression one of overwhelming sorrow as if the sky had collapsed around her.

Shaoyou observed for a moment before speaking.

“It has no life left.”

Yan Chaosheng watched coldly from a distance, showing no intention of approaching them.

Whatever she did now had nothing to do with him.

She raised her fingers and tried to channel immortal energy into the colorful egg.

Despite absorbing her energy, the egg remained lifeless.

Frantic, she called out, “Qingluan.”

The demon bird overhead let out increasingly sorrowful cries.

As if remembering something, she hesitated, lifted her head, and looked at him.

Yan Chaosheng maintained a cold expression, meeting her gaze without emotion.

Internally, he frowned. Why was she looking at him like that?

Since waking, she had never looked at him with such a hopeful and almost epiphanic expression.

Sure enough, after a moment, she shuffled over, holding the ugly egg carefully in her hands, and asked timidly, “Do you want to save it?”

“No.”

He spat out the word icily, wishing she would stay as far away from him as possible—farther, if she could.

A bringer of misfortune!

“Look at it. Don’t you find it familiar?”

Yan Chaosheng responded with a cold sneer.

Familiar? An egg without life? Was she mocking him for being of demon lineage as well? And what absurd daydream was she having, thinking that he, a nearly powerless gatekeeper disciple, could revive a lifeless egg?

Why didn’t she ask Jimo Shaoyou if he could save it?

Expressionless, Yan Chaosheng said, “Young Miss, if you’re free, return the egg to the demon bird.”

There was a tinge of mockery in his words.

The bird probably understood too—this egg, after passing through the belly of a Henggong Fish, had lost all vitality.

Now, its demon eyes even wept faintly with blood.

Yan Chaosheng watched the bloody tears fall, then lowered his gaze calmly.

Along his journey, he had witnessed countless partings and deaths among the demon clans.

As a child, he had desperately wished for a mother of his own, someone to protect him.

But as he grew up, he understood that no matter how much he longed for something that didn’t exist, it would never belong to him.

These irreparable losses no longer stirred his heart.

The girl pointed to the side of her neck and said, “This is the life vein. If you save it, I’ll give you all my cultivation. It’s not much, but at least it’s three hundred years. That way, when you return to the sect, you’ll be able to participate in the grand competition. H-How about it?”

As she spoke, her voice grew increasingly tense, and she looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Is the Young Miss begging me?”

She nodded immediately.

“Mm-hmm!”

Yan Chaosheng fell silent.

Glancing at her wrist, he curved his lips and said, “Three hundred years of cultivation in exchange?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t lie to you. Jimo Shaoyou can vouch for me.”

Shaoyou frowned but said nothing.

“I’ll think about it,” Yan Chaosheng replied coolly.

She immediately shoved the egg toward him, so quickly that Yan Chaosheng almost thought she assumed he had agreed.

But Yan Chaosheng would never agree.

For the demon clan to save one of their own, there was indeed a method: transferring their life vein to extend the vitality of the other. Using his life vein to revive this ugly egg would mean tying its survival to his own. If the egg perished, so would his life vein, leaving his fate to chance.

He wouldn’t save the egg—just as he would no longer delude himself into thinking that Chishui Liushuang’s kindness toward him was anything more than a coincidence.

Yan Chaosheng thought coldly to himself.

After all the harm she had caused him, did she think he’d fall for her games again?

Liu Shuang glanced at Yan Chaosheng from time to time.

He was absentmindedly holding the little Qingluan, which was still just an egg.

Her heart was in her throat, constantly worried that he might toss the egg down without a second thought.

At that moment, a massive blue bird carried them through the Ghost King’s Tomb.

Snow began to fall again, but this time there was no need to worry about being swallowed by a Henggong Fish.

From Shaoyou’s words, Liu Shuang finally learned the truth about Qingluan’s lineage: the demon bird was a descendant of the Qingwen.

Originally a divine bird, the Qingwen, along with the Huangwen, had once caused chaos in the mortal world, leading to catastrophic weather changes and the downfall of countless mortal kingdoms.

The immortals joined forces to suppress them, and the entire lineage fell, becoming demon birds.

They originally lived in the western Buzhou Mountain.

After their fall, the world offered no refuge, and they disappeared without a trace.

To encounter a Qingwen here in the Ghost King’s Tomb was truly unexpected.

No wonder, Liu Shuang thought.

The little Qingluan was only seven hundred years old but already so formidable—capable of following Yan Chaosheng into battle.

It was born with the destructive power of an ancient divine bird.

Even though it later degenerated into a demon bird, its innate bloodline strength was not to be underestimated.

Mortals would turn pale at the mere mention of the Qingwen, cursing and despising them.

Although her little Qingluan had done nothing wrong, it was still hunted wherever it went.

In her past life, Liu Shuang had asked about Qingluan’s lineage, but Yan Chaosheng had replied indifferently, “Just an ordinary demon bird.”

He had said nothing more about its origins.

Liu Shuang only knew that both Qingluan and Chiyuan had been rescued by Yan Chaosheng, but she had never realized that, seven hundred years ago, when he found Qingluan, it had already lost its vitality.

At that thought, a sinking feeling settled in her heart.

If she had succeeded in killing Yan Chaosheng earlier, Qingluan wouldn’t have had a chance to survive—nor would Chiyuan, Su Lun, or even Chang Huan, who had later become like family to her.

They all owed their lives to Yan Chaosheng.

Su Lun had once said, “If not for the Demon Lord, we might have long since lost our souls.”

And perhaps even the Canglan Lake, which later came into being, was connected to Yan Chaosheng.

Grandfather Tree had mentioned that a demon had once accidentally entered the Canglan, only for an Immortal Lord attempting to exterminate the demon to recklessly unleash extreme fire upon the Canglan lake, disregarding the fate of the young creatures just awakening their spiritual consciousness.

It was a certain demon lord who blocked the fire and rescued the demon, preventing a catastrophe in the Canglan lake.

That was why, when Yan Chaosheng fell injured into the Canglan lake, Grandfather Tree had recognized him immediately and was able to tell Liu Shuang who he was.

With that in mind, if Yan Chaosheng were to perish, it was very likely that many lives would be lost as a result.

But if he continued to live, what would become of Kongsang’s fate?

Liu Shuang frowned, feeling torn for the first time.

If she didn’t kill him, Kongsang would remain in danger.

But if she did, the lives of those in the Canglan lake and her beloved Chang Huan would be at risk.

She was caught in a dilemma.

Now, it seemed there was only one solution: eliminate his hatred toward Kongsang and drive him away. Let him go wherever he wished to practice his arts, as long as he didn’t bear a grudge against Kongsang. The Immortal Realm would remain intact.

After all, didn’t the Feng Clan and Kunlun survive just fine afterward?

Yan Chaosheng had even helped Kunlun.

From this perspective, he was someone who distinguished between love and hate.

If there was no enmity, he wouldn’t go out of his way to destroy Kongsang.

Liu Shuang felt a pang of regret in her heart.

If only she had been reborn a bit earlier, she wouldn’t have falsely accused him or caused him to lose his cultivation.

The grudge between Bai Yuxiao and him had also grown too large.

How could she ensure that he let go of his resentment and drive him out of Kongsang, as far away as possible?

She racked her brain and suddenly her eyes lit up.

First, she would find a way to restore his cultivation.

Then, she and Bai Yuxiao could apologize to him.

After that, she would marry him off to Mi Chu, the person she disliked most!

Once he and Mi Chu did their own things , he would finally have the “white moonlight” he had missed in his previous life and would surely be content.

Mi Chu, being from Kongsang, would prevent him from destroying his wife’s homeland.

The more Liu Shuang thought about it, the more she felt it was a brilliant idea.

She could get rid of two troublemakers at once.

It was perfect. Mi Chu could go with him to the Ghost Realm and live a miserable life, while Kongsang would remain safe.

It was a win-win.

For now, the priority was to get Yan Chaosheng to save the little Qingluan.

The Qingwen carried them for what felt like an eternity, and before them appeared a broken bridge.

It nudged Shaoyou with its head, signaling for him to step onto the broken bridge.

Beneath the bridge was a swirl of ghostly energy, and the other side was entirely unclear.

Shaoyou hesitated for a moment, sheathed his sword, and stepped onto the broken bridge.

The Qingwen blocked Liu Shuang and Yan Chaosheng with its massive body, signaling them not to follow.

Liu Shuang watched as Shaoyou’s figure grew fainter, eventually disappearing from sight.

She thought to herself, The mother of the Qingluan should be trustworthy… right?

She took out the Transcendent Mirror , and the mirror glowed with a soft light, calming her.

No matter what, they’ve managed to escape this time.

Had it not been for the good fortune of encountering the Qingwen, they would never have found this place.

Yan Chaosheng sat cross-legged on the ground, eyes closed, meditating.

The bird egg was casually placed beside him, as if it were just some discarded object.

For some reason, the Qingwen, weak and lethargic, sat next to him without expressing anger.

Instead, it gently nudged the little bird egg toward Yan Chaosheng with its claws, as if trying to please him.

It made soft, sorrowful sounds, as if in mourning.

Liu Shuang couldn’t help but feel curious—how did the Qingwen know that Yan Chaosheng could save its child?

But Yan Chaosheng, sitting cross-legged, remained unmoved.

He opened his eyes and coldly said, “Stop crying. It’s annoying.”

The Qingwen immediately stopped.

Liu Shuang was stunned.

So Yan Chaosheng could communicate with the Qingwen after all.

As she thought about how she could no longer kill Yan Chaosheng, but instead needed to matchmake him with Mi Chu and then drive him away from the Immortal Realm, Liu Shuang picked up the bird egg and gently placed it in his arms.

Yan Chaosheng turned to look at her, his voice icy.

“What are you doing?”

“Have you made up your mind? Will you save Qing… the Qingwen’s child?”

“I’m in a bad mood.”

He replied coldly.

“I won’t save it.”

Liu Shuang instinctively wanted to ask why he was in a bad mood, but then she realized that her own mood was far from good.

Shaoyou also seemed downcast.

No one could be happy in the Ghost King’s Tomb.

She immediately understood.

But she could wait.

Qingluan couldn’t.

If it wasn’t saved soon, it would truly be dead, and what would happen if it turned into a fool of a bird?

The Qingwen beside them was on the verge of tears.

Liu Shuang made up her mind and tugged at her collar.

“How about you absorb a hundred years of cultivation first?”

They locked eyes, and he remained silent.

Liu Shuang couldn’t guess his thoughts and assumed it wasn’t enough.

She gritted her teeth and said, “Two hundred years. I can’t offer more for now. If I give you any more, I won’t be able to take you both out of here.”

“Is the young miss serious?”

He sneered.

“Fine.”

Liu Shuang slowly moved closer, for the first time feeling what it meant to walk willingly toward death.

There were two ways to transfer cultivation.

One was forced, where the person would forcibly absorb another’s cultivation in an evil and demonic way, which usually resulted in divine punishment.

The other method was voluntary, through the life vein, where one could willingly pass on their cultivation along with the power of their bloodline.

The life vein was located on the left side of the neck, connected to the spiritual vein and heart, and the flow of spiritual energy was unending.

There had been too many unexpected changes before, and by a twist of fate, Yan Chaosheng no longer wished to save Qingluan.

With only three hundred years of cultivation left, fueled by bloodline power, it could still be restored.

Qingluan could not be allowed to die because of the changes she had caused.

To be honest, Liu Shuang was now very anxious.

She moved closer to Yan Chaosheng, slightly tilting her head, feeling his gaze on the side of her neck, yet he remained silent.

She closed her eyes and urged, “Hurry up and take the spiritual energy.”

She didn’t want Shaoyou to return and stop her.

It was so troubling.

His breath grew heavier, spraying across her skin.

Liu Shuang admitted that she felt terrible.

She wanted to kick him away, yet she also wanted to back out, but Qingluan was already a dead egg, and there was no room for retreat.

After a while, the young man still hadn’t moved.

She opened her eyes and frowned at him.

What now? Does he want to torment me before taking my spiritual energy?

His eyes held a faint red glow at the corners as he coldly glared at her.

“You’re still not moving? You’re not thinking of going back on your word, are you?” Liu Shuang asked.

He sneered, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“The young miss is willing to part with three hundred years of cultivation; how could this disciple go back on his word? I’m just afraid the young miss will regret it, like before, when you falsely accused me in return.”

Even now, he was bringing up the dark history of the original owner.

Liu Shuang coughed, “I really won’t harm you again.”

She took out a recording bead, aimed it at herself and Yan Chaosheng, and said, “Let it be known that today, I forced the disciple, Yan Chaosheng, to save an egg and take two hundred years of my cultivation. Let it be recorded.”

Liu Shuang put the recording bead away and handed it to Yan Chaosheng.

“Now you can rest assured.”

She squatted in front of him, closed her eyes.

“Take the spiritual energy now.”

Yan Chaosheng lowered his gaze and saw the young girl’s fists clenched in nervousness on her knees.

He also glanced at her pale, soft neck.

He lowered his head and paused just before touching her skin, his gaze shifting as if he were deep in thought.

Liu Shuang had been waiting for quite a while, and still, there was no movement.

She was starting to get angry.

Was he always this paranoid?

She opened her eyes, about to glare at him.

Her neck grew slightly cold, and she felt something cool touch her skin.

From her angle, Yan Chaosheng’s dark hair cascaded like a waterfall as he buried his head against her neck.

She froze for a moment, biting her teeth to prevent herself from shuddering.

After a moment, she felt something was off and questioned, “Is the cultivation transferred?” It didn’t seem like it; she didn’t feel weak.

Yan Chaosheng raised his head and gave her a cold glance.

“If the young miss does not wish to transfer the cultivation, there is no need to force it. This disciple’s spiritual energy is too weak to forcibly take the young miss’s spiritual energy.”

Liu Shuang: … Was she really so contradictory, saying she was willing but secretly unwilling to let Yan Chaosheng take her spiritual energy to save Qingluan? No, she really did want to save her little Qingluan.

Yan Chaosheng turned away, his throat visibly bobbing.