Chapter 79

Qingluan flew swiftly, far more reliable than Bai Yuxiao’s Seven-Treasure Copper Coins.

By the time Liu Shuang arrived at Kunlun, she saw many armored immortal soldiers who clearly weren’t from Kunlun.

This time, her visit was much more welcomed—the disciples guarding the immortal gates let her in directly.

“Are these soldiers from the Heavenly Clan?”

A Kunlun disciple replied, “Yes, Lady Chishui.”

Had Feng Fuming come to Kunlun?

As Liu Shuang pondered, an old man with a white beard approached and snorted, “What are you doing here now, little girl?”

“Kunlun’s spiritual veins are unstable. I came to see Shaoyou.”

Immortal Lord Wojiang thought of his young master, his heart heavy.

He said sarcastically, “So the lady finally remembers our young master after being wrapped up in tender affections with that demon.”

Liu Shuang lowered her head.

“It’s my fault for not visiting Shaoyou sooner.”

Wojiang’s anger was only verbal.

He knew this wasn’t Liu Shuang’s fault.

Kunlun was in crisis, but so was Kongsang.

The death of a young immortal lord like Bai Zhuixu had caused Liu Shuang no less pain than it had them.

Yet the little girl didn’t defend herself at all, simply admitting her mistake.

Wojiang’s heart ached.

There was no right or wrong here—it was all fate, nothing more than lack of destiny.

He composed himself and said solemnly, “Kunlun already has a plan to address the spiritual veins. The young master has instructed that, given Kunlun’s current busy affairs, if the Chishui heir visits, Lady should return to Kongsang first. He will visit you another day.”

Liu Shuang looked at him.

“What plan does the Immortal Lord speak of? I heard from Kunlun’s disciples that the Heavenly Lord has been here, hasn’t he?”

Wojiang turned away.

“Lady Chishui, please return.”

Liu Shuang could already sense something amiss in Kunlun’s atmosphere.

She quickly caught up to him.

“Immortal Lord Wojiang, what exactly has happened in Kunlun?”

Heavenly soldiers were stationed everywhere, and the Kunlun disciples all wore grim expressions.

Wojiang glanced at her, something flashing in his eyes.

He made up his mind and said, “If you truly wish to know, follow me.”

He led Liu Shuang through a series of floating pavilions.

Finally, he handed her a pearl.

“Wear this. For a while, they won’t detect your presence in Kunlun.”

The pearl was warm to the touch—it was actually the Mingxi Pearl.

The Mingxi Pearl could even withstand heavenly thunder to some extent, let alone conceal one’s aura.

After ensuring everything was prepared, Wojiang formed a seal with his hands.

Several peachwood talismans flew from his sleeves, merging into an octagonal mirror.

With a wave of his hand, Feng Fuming’s face appeared in the mirror.

“This is what happened a few days ago,” Wojiang said darkly.

A sense of foreboding rose in Liu Shuang’s heart.

She focused on the mirror.

Inside, Feng Fuming sat on the throne, with Feng Caiyi standing behind him.

Feng Fuming smiled gently.

“What’s the matter? If Young Master Jimo truly intends to marry Caiyi, why refuse to offer the Shennong cauldron as a betrothal gift? Could it be that Kunlun’s spiritual veins and the lives of thousands of disciples are worth less than the Shennong cauldron in your eyes?”

In the hall, Shaoyou stood with pursed lips.

“The Shennong cauldron is tied to Kunlun’s grand formation and is a divine artifact passed down since ancient times. It’s not that I’m unwilling, but disturbing the Shennong cauldron would shake Kunlun’s foundation. I beg the Heavenly Lord’s mercy.”

Just as Yan Chaosheng had to obtain the Taichu Mirror, a place where a clan resided needed something as a formation anchor to protect its people.

Feng Fuming said, “I’m well aware of the Shennong Cauldron’s importance to Kunlun. But I have only one sister, and the Heavenly Clan has only one spiritual vein. Dividing the spiritual vein is no small matter. Only after seeing Kunlun’s sincerity would I dare to hand it over. Kunlun’s spiritual veins are on the verge of drying up—I hear immortals die from it every day. If Young Master Jimo refuses to offer the Shennong Cauldron as a betrothal gift, then what is your sincerity?”

In the silent hall, Shaoyou, standing below, slowly knelt.

“Young Master!”

“Young Master…”

Feng Fuming smiled faintly.

Behind him, Feng Caiyi stepped forward but hesitated under Feng Fuming’s gaze, not daring to move further.

Wojiang gritted his teeth and turned away, unable to bear watching again.

Liu Shuang’s heart ached.

The Shaoyou she knew would never cry out in pain no matter how severe his injuries, nor would he bow in humiliation no matter how great the hardship.

Feng Fuming chuckled.

“Oh? What does this mean, Young Master?”

“Jimo Shaoyou swears upon his soul: if the Heavenly Lord saves Kunlun from this crisis, from this day forth, Kunlun Immortal Realm will submit to the Heavenly Lord, obeying his every command.”

“The divine jade refined by the Shennong Cauldron?”

Shao You said, “The Jimo clan will offer it yearly.”

“The peachwood veins?”

“At the Heavenly Lord’s disposal anytime.”

Feng Fuming raised an eyebrow.

“Attacking the demon clan?”

Shaoyou closed his eyes.

“Shaoyou will lead the troops to battle, even if it costs my life.”

Behind Shaoyou, all of Kunlun’s ministers bowed their heads in sorrow.

What Feng Fuming wanted wasn’t a worthy husband for the Feng princess but a puppet to command.

He wanted the divine jade refined by the Shennong Cauldron, the peachwood veins Kunlun used for divination, and Shaoyou to lead troops to battle the demon clan, dragging Kunlun into the conflict.

But if Kunlun’s spiritual veins dried up, thousands of clansmen would die.

If the young master didn’t yield, Kunlun would have no path to survival.

They could only watch as he knelt and pledged allegiance to Feng Fuming.

Liu Shuang’s fingers trembled.

In the mirror, Feng Fuming smiled.

“Then Young Master Jimo must treat Caiyi well from now on.”

Feng Caiyi bit her lip, her expression conflicted, but she lowered her head without a word.

Shaoyou said, “Yes, Heavenly Lord.”

The scene before Liu Shuang faded.

Wojiang put away the octagonal mirror.

“Lady Chishui, you’ve seen Kunlun’s current state. Kongsang can stay out of this turmoil, but the young master wants you to leave. Yet, in private, this old man hopes you can help him.”

With that, his face filled with sorrow, he moved to kneel.

Liu Shuang quickly stopped him.

This was Shaoyou’s childhood master—she couldn’t accept such a gesture from Immortal Lord Wojiang.

“Tell me what you wish for me to do.”

“This old man hopes that the Chishui heir will form a marriage alliance with Kunlun, merging Kongsang’s spiritual veins with Kunlun’s to save us from this calamity.”

Liu Shuang fell silent.

Wojiang, thinking she was unwilling, smiled bitterly.

“It seems this old man has overstepped. Pretend I never mentioned this. Lady Chishui, please return to Kongsang.”

Liu Shuang said softly, “Regarding merging the spiritual veins, I’d like to discuss it with Shao You first.”

Hearing this, Wojiang’s eyes lit up.

“Good, good.”

Liu Shuang smiled wryly.

“Don’t get your hopes up. Merging spiritual veins isn’t something I can decide alone. Kongsang’s lord is my father now.”

Wojiang said, “It’s still better than submitting to the Feng clan. Feng Fuming is insatiably ambitious and utterly ruthless. Besides…”

Besides, Liu Shuang was Shaoyou’s beloved.

Marrying the one he loved was far better than marrying someone he didn’t.

Wojiang didn’t voice this last thought—it wasn’t his place to say it.

That was for the young master to decide.

Shaoyou had always lived for Kunlun.

As a citizen of Kunlun, Wojiang was grateful for such a ruler.

But as Shaoyou’s master, Wojiang wished he would fight for himself just once.

The chaos in the Eight Wilderness was inevitable.

Kongsang was already involved and couldn’t escape.

If the young master could be with the Chishui girl, no matter how difficult the road ahead, it wouldn’t be so unbearable.

True to Wojiang’s words, Liu Shuang’s arrival in Kunlun was well concealed.

Even Shaoyou hadn’t noticed.

That evening, Feng Fuming left Kunlun in his heavenly chariot with Feng Caiyi, though not all the Heavenly soldiers withdrew with them.

Under Wojiang’s arrangements, Liu Shuang entered Shaoyou’s pavilion.

His residence was elegant and spacious, with clusters of flowers blooming outside.

The backyard bordered a vast peach grove.

Kunlun’s ancestors had the bloodline of the ancient Peachwood Deity, so the peach blossoms in Kunlun never withered.

Now, in the mortal realm, it was winter with snow falling.

Yet Kunlun’s peach blossoms bloomed brilliantly, warm and pleasant—far more welcoming than the cold demon palace.

Beneath a peach tree, Liu Shuang found Shaoyou reviewing scrolls.

Peach petals dusted his shoulders.

His expression was calm, his features refined, like a painting—as if none of the recent tragedies had left a mark on him.

Sensing her presence, Shaoyou looked up. Surprise flickered across his face, followed by a gentle smile.

“You’re alright?”

His smile was as serene as moonlight.

Remembering their century together in the mortal realm, how patiently Shaoyou had guided her, Liu Shuang’s heart ached.

She walked over and sat across from him, forcing a smile.

“Yes, Physician Zhan’s skills are exceptional. I’ve fully recovered.”

Shaoyou said softly, “That’s good. I’m sorry I couldn’t return in time to bring you the dragon’s blood.”

She hadn’t expected his first words to be an apology about this.

Her nose stung, and she didn’t dare speak, afraid she’d burst into tears.

She shook her head.

No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine—it’s always been mine.

She had let Bai Zhuixu’s death consume her, leaving Shaoyou alone to face Kunlun’s crisis, forcing him to kneel to Feng Fuming in desperation.

Shaoyou saw her sorrow and asked, “What’s wrong? Did someone bully you, or is it about Bai Zhuixu…”

Her heart ached unbearably.

Peach petals fluttered down around them—for the Shaoyou who had knelt, and for herself, unable to see the future.

Liu Shuang asked, “About Kunlun’s situation… do you truly intend to submit to Feng Fuming?”

Shaoyou smiled wryly.

“So you know…”

“I promised you that once you returned, we’d discuss how to preserve Kunlun’s spiritual veins.”

Liu Shuang said, “Now, Shaoyou, do you still trust me?”

Shaoyou slowly met her gaze.

“You don’t have to do this. Kongsang can stay neutral in the Eight Wilderness and avoid entanglement with Feng Fuming.”

Liu Shuang pressed, “Immortal Lord Wojiang said he hopes you’ll live for yourself just once. Do you truly wish to marry Princess Caiyi and lead troops to war against the demons?”

Shaoyou remained silent.

“If saving Kunlun leaves you no other choice, then tell me, Shaoyou. In your heart, would you rather form a marriage alliance with Kongsang or with Mount Buzhou?”

She whispered, “My father… he wouldn’t freely share Kongsang’s spiritual veins either. Shaoyou, the world is so cruel. Immortal Lord Wojiang hopes I can help you. I want to help you too, but I know my father. He’s in his prime, his power and influence rival Feng Fuming’s. His ambition is growing.”

She clenched her teeth but spoke honestly.

“If you ally with Kongsang, my father will also seek to use and control you.”

He looked at her, his gaze calm as still water.

As if, in the chaos of the Eight Wilderness, he had grown accustomed to being a pawn.

“Shaoyou, I’ve been thinking… there might be another way…”

Shaoyou, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.

“I choose you.”

Liu Shuang froze.

Shaoyou closed his eyes, revealing his heart for the first time.

“If my master and you both wish for me to act on impulse just once… then I choose you, Liu Shuang.”