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4070-chapter-78

Chapter 78

“Damn, what the hell is this!”

Hua Hong had dodged the Nine-Tailed Fox across eighteen mountain ranges, braving heavy snow to sneak back to the Haouyue Palace, only to nearly take a nosedive at the entrance.

Looking down, she saw the dumb wooden donkey frozen in a block of ice, stuck at the bottom of the stone steps.

Snowflakes bombed down from the sky, passing through the ice layer, each one precisely striking the wooden donkey’s head, making it see stars.

Hua Hong circled the frozen wooden donkey twice, rubbing her chin.

“So wicked—who did this?”

“Who else?”

On the stone steps, Long Yi Pig yawned and gestured toward the inner hall.

“Oh ho, dumb donkey, got caught stealing spiritual energy, huh?” Hua Hong whistled, gloating.

The dizzy, battered Long Er Donkey’s eyes widened in shock as it looked at Hua Hong.

“What are you looking at? Did you really think your little tricks could fool the Palace Master?”

Hua Hong shrugged.

“There aren’t many people in the palace, and the palace Master is bored. Watching you act like a clown is his daily entertainment—otherwise, he would’ve refined you long ago.”

Long Er Donkey shuddered, its ears drooping and legs going weak.

“Relax, you won’t die before the last piece of Bodhi Wood is found.”

Hua Hong yawned, then glanced at Long Yi Pig.

“Wait, that doesn’t add up. This dumb donkey has been messing around for so long, and the Palace Master never cared. Why did he suddenly throw him out today?”

Long Yi Pig replied coolly, “The dumb donkey was caught stealing spiritual energy by Bai Shuo. It promised that girl to take her to Cold Spring Palace and make her the Third Palace Lord’s wife.”

Hua Hong gazed at the swirling snow.

“No wonder it’s snowing so hard—the Palace Master is in a bad mood.”

She gave the ice block a kick, making things even worse for the wooden donkey.

“That girl’s been in Haoyue Palace for a year, blown up seven or eight golden-glass solitary halls, stripped the mountain peaks of rare treasures, and have you ever seen the Palace Master so much as frown? You really think she was picked up just to refine elixirs? What the hell did she grow up eating to be this dumb?”

With an exasperated pout, Hua Hong dragged Long Yi Zhu into the hall, leaving behind the dumbfounded wooden donkey, teary-eyed as it gazed at the sky.

Inside the inner hall, Bai Shuo had set up three fire basins just to shake off the bone-chilling cold.

For some reason, the extreme north lands were freezing beyond belief tonight.

She was a dignified immortal lord, yet she was shivering uncontrollably.

After playing dead, that dumb donkey had been kicked out by the big demon, its fate unknown.

Fan Yue acted as if he didn’t even see her in the hall, sitting there reading his book, completely indifferent.

Bai Shuo, standing in the corner, might as well have been invisible.

Her legs were going numb, yet no one spared her a glance.

The little immortal sighed helplessly, crept over to the throne, and, as if performing a magic trick, pulled a steaming bowl of peach blossom soup from her storage bag, placing it in front of Fan Yue as an offering.

“Palace Master, it’s cold—why not have a bowl of peach blossom soup to warm up?”

Fan Yue turned a page leisurely, not even lifting his eyelids.

“I only sneaked into your hall for alchemy. I have absolutely no disloyalty toward you.”

The Haoyue Palace master twitched at the temple, suppressing the urge to kick this nonsense-spouting girl out.

Ridiculous!

She had free access to all the rare treasures in Haoyue Palace—what kind of elixir did she need to refine that required sneaking into his hall?

“It’s true!”

Seeing Fan Yue unmoved, Bai Shuo hastily raised her hand in oath.

“I’ve already plucked the spiritual herbs of the Western Mountains bald! I was just thinking—this donkey is formed from Bodhi Wood. If I could scrape off a piece…”

“To share life and death?”

Too lazy to listen to her ramblings any further, Fan Yue stopped flipping pages and spoke indifferently.

What? What nonsense? Bai Shuo was dumbfounded.

Fan Yue snorted out four more words.

“Bound together in harmony?”

Bai Shuo stroked her chin.

Why did these eight words sound so familiar?

Hadn’t she just heard them from someone?

“The Third Palace Lord’s wife of Cold Spring Palace—how prestigious. You’d be able to roam the demon realm unchecked. This small temple of mine must really be stifling for you.”

Fan Yue finally looked up, his words cold as if laced with ice.

Great. Bai Shuo finally realized—wasn’t this exactly what that dumb donkey had used to trick her?

Could it be that the big demon actually thought she had been tempted?

“Palace Master! This is a huge misunderstanding! I was just fooling that dumb donkey! Cold Spring Palace, Hot Spring Palace—I don’t care about any of that! I’m just your little medicine girl! Haoyue Palace is amazing—plenty to eat, warm clothes, even the gods can’t compare!”

Bai Shuo grabbed onto Fan Yue’s sleeve.

“I won’t go anywhere but by your side! If one day you don’t want me, I’ll just find a place to bury myself! Forget leaving Haoyue Palace—if I take a single step a hundred meters away from you, I’ll just drop dead!”

“Pfft!”

“Thud!”

Outside the hall, Hua Hong couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing like a grasshopper, while Long Yi Pig shivered all over, flapping his wings in discomfort and crashing into a pillar.

Dear heavens, where did this treasure of a person come from? If only they could see the Palace Master’s expression right now—hahaha!

Inside the hall, after Bai Shuo’s rapid-fire outburst, silence fell.

She looked up to find Fan Yue staring at her like she was a fool.

For once, the shameless Bai Banxian actually felt embarrassed.

She scratched her head and cautiously tugged at Fan Yue’s sleeve again.

“Palace Master?”

Fan Yue snapped out of it, instinctively trying to pull his sleeve away, but then he noticed the small, chubby hands nervously gripping the edge of his sleeve.

He paused, let out a light humph, and lifted the peach blossom soup to take a sip.

“You tell people what they want to hear—who’d believe you?”

“It’s the truth! Palace Master, I am absolutely loyal to you, heaven and earth can bear witness!”

Pfft—Fan Yue finally couldn’t hold back.

A mouthful of peach blossom soup went straight down the wrong pipe.

“Oh no, it’s hot! Take it slow, take it slow…”

Bai Shuo quickly scurried up like a bootlicking puppy, patting Fan Yue’s back.

“Enough, enough, stop sucking up. Bodhi Wood is divine—you don’t have the immortal energy to refine it.” The usually composed and aloof Fan Yue’s ears were tinged red as he changed the topic.

Bai Shuo’s hand froze mid-pat, suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon.

Fan Yue squinted at her dejected look.

“There’s enough spiritual herbs in the Northern Territory to refine a whole house of first-grade elixirs, yet you’re still not satisfied. What, are you planning to refine a divine pill with Bodhi Wood?”

Bai Shuo’s heart skipped a beat.

Fan Yue’s gaze darkened, and whatever little amusement he had disappeared.

“He’s already at the peak of the Demon Lord realm. There are few in the Three Realms who can hurt him. You don’t need to waste your efforts.”

What? Bai Shuo was startled and blurted out, “I wasn’t doing it for—”

But Fan Yue cut her off.

“Cold Spring Palace is ruthless and cunning. His hands are already stained with the blood of countless immortal disciples—he’s no longer the Chong Zhao of the past. The demon clans are not like the united immortal sects. Cold Spring and Haoyue have never been on good terms. No matter what bond you had in the mortal or immortal realms, you are now a member of Haoyue Palace. You must follow its rules.”

This was the first time since bringing her back a year ago that Fan Yue had ever mentioned Chong Zhao to Bai Shuo.

Though his words were cold, she knew he meant well.

“I understand.”

Bai Shuo’s eyes dimmed slightly, but she quickly perked up.

“Palace Master, I saw the third star in the Seven-Pointed Star array light up earlier. Did you find the third piece of Bodhi Wood in the Eastern Territory?”

Fan Yue lazily hummed in acknowledgment.

“Then…” Bai Shuo hesitated.

“Was what that wooden donkey said earlier… true?”

Fan Yue narrowed his eyes.

“What are you really trying to ask?”

His ink-black eyes gleamed like stars.

The question on Bai Shuo’s lips suddenly changed direction.

“That wooden donkey doesn’t remember anything before the Bodhi Wood split. But… do you?”

Fan Yue didn’t react at first.

“What?”

Bai Shuo blurted out without thinking, “I mean… Big Demon, have you ever been married?”

Seeing Fan Yue momentarily freeze, Bai Shuo suddenly realized what she had just asked.

She wanted to slap herself—was she stupid? Wasn’t she supposed to ask why the big demon, being a divine tree, chose to cultivate demonic power? What would happen if the eight pieces of Bodhi wood weren’t gathered? Had she really just blurted out such a foolish question?

“I…” Bai Shuo wished she could find a hole to crawl into.

Just as she was about to say something to salvage the situation, a hand suddenly grasped her chin.

She looked up and met a pair of eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

“Whether I’ve ever been married—what does that have to do with you?”

“I…”

The Haoyue Palace’s master curled his lips into a slight smirk and leaned in closer.

“Bai Shuo, why do you want to know?”

The moonlight cast soft shadows, their breaths almost intertwining.

The usually quick-witted Bai Banxian found herself speechless.

“I… I…”

Fan Yue’s face drew even nearer.

Bai Shuo suddenly clutched her shoulder, her brows furrowing.

“What’s wrong?” Fan Yue paused.

“Cold… hurts.”

Bai Shuo looked up at him pitifully.

Fan Yue’s gaze fell on her right shoulder, his expression darkening.

A year ago, Bai Shuo had suffered a severe injury on Phoenix Island, leaving an old wound on her right shoulder.

Even though he was a demigod, he had cultivated demonic power.

“Ah!”

With a startled yelp, Bai Shuo found herself enveloped in a cool embrace.

“B-B-Big Demon…” Her words stumbled over themselves.

“Shut up.”

Fan Yue’s cold voice cut her off.

Bai Shuo was already laid upon a soft bed.

Seeing him lean down toward her, she instinctively covered her eyes.

Silence stretched on.

Yet, a soothing warmth spread from her right shoulder.

Bai Shuo cautiously opened her eyes and froze.

Fan Yue was seated by the bed, his hand resting on her shoulder, steadily infusing divine energy into her spiritual veins.

Oh no—so much divine power! If the Big Demon found out she had been faking it… Bai Shuo’s conscience suddenly kicked in.

Just as she was about to confess, Fan Yue reached out with his other hand and gently covered her eyes.

“Sleep.”

His voice was deep and husky.

A wave of drowsiness overtook Bai Shuo, and she closed her eyes.

The grand hall doors creaked open as Fan Yue stepped outside.

Snow swirled through the courtyard, yet not a single flake dared enter the hall.

Outside, Long Yi Pig had stood guard the entire night.

Exhausted, he let out a yawn as Fan Yue stopped before him.

“Something wrong?”

“Come with me to the South Sea.”

Long Yi Pig blinked. “Huh? In the middle of the night? You going on a midnight stroll?” Then, as if realizing something, his expression turned serious. “Are you going to get the Bi Ling Grass?”

Bi Ling Grass grew only on the Dragon Island of the South Sea—a sacred treasure of the dragon clan.

Any injured immortal who consumed it would be completely healed.

Bai Shuo was, after all, an immortal.

Even though Fan Yue was a demigod, he had cultivated demonic power. Immortal and demonic forces could not merge, meaning he couldn’t fully cure Bai Shuo’s old injury.

“You’re insane! Even if the dragon clan has declined, the Bi Ling Grass is still protected by the ancient seal left behind by Mu Guang! You’re just a demigod now—ahhhh!”

Before Long Yi Pig could finish, Fan Yue flicked his sleeve, sweeping the pig demon inside it.

A flash of light streaked through the night, and the man and the pig vanished from the hall.

A thousand miles away, in Cold Spring Palace, Chong Zhao strode swiftly out of the main hall, clad in black.

Fu Ling had been waiting outside for a long time and hurriedly stepped forward.

“Ah Zhao!”

Chong Zhao halted.

“What is it?”

The scent of blood clung to him—who knew which small demon clan had just been eradicated?

The words of concern on Fu Ling’s lips hesitated before shifting.

“Who has the palace master sent you to kill this time?”

“It’s not that. The palace master has sent me to retrieve something.”

Fu Ling looked unconvinced.

“That simple?”

“Not just that. The palace master has given an order—anyone who dares to take it shall be killed.”

Chong Zhao turned, his voice cold, his eyes devoid of emotion.

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