Chapter 82

With Feng Fuming’s order, the immortals dared not retreat and raised their weapons to advance.

The forces Feng Fuming brought outnumbered Yan Chaosheng’s demon army by hundreds.

The battlefield was littered with wails and the blood of great demons.

They transformed into their primal forms to fight but were suppressed by pre-laid formations.

Yan Chaosheng, for the first time, tapped into the power of the Xiangliu royal bloodline, hurling them out of the formation one by one.

“Mountain Lord, forget about us—run!”

“Yes, Mountain Lord! Our deaths mean nothing. You must live to lead the demon race back to its former glory!”

“Mountain Lord, go! Go now!”

Yan Chaosheng’s vision was dyed crimson.

As he sent a Kunpeng demon out of the formation, Feng Fuming’s Xuanyuan Sword descended, piercing through his primal form.

Feng Fuming smirked coldly.

“You dare worry about others while fighting me?”

The sight made everyone’s eyes nearly burst with fury.

Blood gushed from Yan Chaosheng’s wound as he forcibly reverted to human form, pulling the Xuanyuan Sword from his body.

Fuheng rushed to support him.

“Mountain Lord, we must leave—now! There’s no time!”

Yan Chaosheng leaned on his halberd for support.

With a piercing cry, Qingluan spread its wings, spewing ice that froze a swath of immortal soldiers.

The phoenix was wounded in multiple places, its wings drenched in blood, a gaping hole in its abdomen.

“Qingluan, take the Mountain Lord away!”

All the demons coordinated seamlessly, using their bodies to block Feng Fuming’s sword and clear a path.

Qingluan’s talons seized Yan Chaosheng and Fuheng, soaring into the sky.

In ancient times, the demon bird Qingwen could blot out the heavens with its wings. Now, it expanded its body, carrying Yan Chousheng and the survivors he had rescued.

As the immortal soldiers gave chase, Feng Fuming slowly wiped the blood from his Xuanyuan Sword and smiled. *”No need to pursue. Someone will take care of him without us lifting a finger. With injuries this severe, consider it my congratulatory gift for Liushuang Fairy’s spirit-bonding ceremony.”*

Did they really think he knew nothing?

Yan Chousheng looked down at the battlefield beneath his feet.

Blood—nothing but blood. The corpses of demons lay scattered beside immortal soldiers, vanishing into nothingness.

Those who had bought him a chance to escape fell one by one under Feng Fuming’s divine blade.

The scene was hauntingly familiar.

In the Demon Suppression Tower, the ancient demons had also sacrificed themselves to give him a way out.

Fuheng, seeing the red-rimmed fury in Yan Chaosheng’s eyes and the veins bulging on his hands, wanted to console him but found no words.

They had set out with three hundred great demons.

Now, fewer than ten remained on Qingluan’s back—those Yan Chaosheng had saved at the cost of taking the Xuanyuan Sword’s blow.

The wound from the divine blade refused to heal.

They could only watch as Yan Chaosheng’s blood stained Qingluan’s feathers.

Qingluan’s flight grew slower, its strength waning.

“The demon palace’s barrier will keep us safe for now. Wei Tong, disguise yourself as me and return to the main hall. If Feng Fuming has spies there, his paranoia will keep him from attacking today. Follow my plans, not Su Lun’s.”

Yan Chaosheng’s voice was icy.

“The rest of you, return. What comes next is my own affair.”

The surviving demons were heavy with grief.

One, sensing Yan Chaosheng’s restrained anguish, said, “We’ll go with you, Mountain Lord. Don’t blame yourself. We threatened you into letting us come. Today wasn’t a total loss—we exposed Feng Fuming’s schemes. Better now than in a full-scale war where all our kin would perish.”

The time for the spirit-bonding ceremony between the heirs of Kongsang and Kunlun drew near.

Qingluan flew desperately toward Kongsang.

No one left.

Yan Chaosheng remained silent.

A demon tried to staunch his bleeding, but Yan Chaosheng brushed him off.

The Xuanyuan Sword’s wound couldn’t be healed by ordinary spell. His original form had been pierced—he was at the end of his strength.

After another stretch of flight, Yan Chaosheng ordered, “Land here. All of you, disembark.”

The demons exchanged glances, guessing his intent.

With fewer than ten left, charging into Kongsang was suicide.

“We’ll go with you! Your wife is our lady. We won’t let her stay in Kongsang and bond with Jimo Shaoyou! You saved our lives—we won’t let you face this alone!”

“Yes!”

Even Fuheng, who had never been on good terms with Liu Shuang, bowed his head in silent agreement.

Not a single demon suggested returning or tried to dissuade Yan Chaosheng.

Demons were unlike other races—they were fierce, domineering, and ruthless.

Letting another man take their lord’s beloved? ]

Unthinkable.

Every survivor owed Liu Shuang for her healing medicines.

They, too, wished for Yan Chaosheng to bring her back.

The entire demon mountain knew: their lord valued Liu Shuang more than his own life. He would never yield her to Jimo Shaoyou or let their bonding proceed.

Wei Tong, now disguised as Yan Chaosheng, said, “I’ll return to the demon palace as ordered. Take care, my lord.”

Yan Chaosheng scanned their resolute faces and finally smiled. “Let’s go.”

He would bring her home, no matter the cost.

He had promised her.

If she was willing to return, the Scale of Heart Protection she wore might just shield them all from Kongsang’s wrath.

In the Kongsang immortal realm, Madam Zi personally arranged Liu Shuang’s hair.

Unaware of Shaoyou’s plan for a fake bonding—or of Chishui Chong and Liu Shuang’s trap in the Heavenly Palace’s Endless Sea—she treated this as her daughter’s true wedding day, her eyes brimming with love and reluctance.

“My little Shuang’er has grown so much.”

Liu shuang hugged her waist.

“Mother.”

Madam Zi laughed.

“Still acting spoiled? Hold still—one more hairpin.”

The ice-blue feather mark on Liu shuang’s forehead glowed softly.

Madam Zi’s heart ached.

Her precious daughter, raised with such care—how could she belong to another now?

Even if Liu shuang would inherit Kongsang after Chishui Chong’s retirement, madam Zi felt an unbearable emptiness.

“Liu shuang,” she murmured.

“Don’t resent your father. I’ll try to persuade him not to harm Shaoyou.”

Liu shuang rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, silent.

Chishui Chong’s ambition to become Heavenly Lord would inevitably hurt Shaoyou—just as Feng Fuming had.

Though he adored madam Zi, Yan Chaosheng’s near-death proved that men’s hunger for power outweighed women’s pleas.

Birds drawing the immortal carriage sang in unison.

Veiled in bridal silk, Liu shuang was escorted out by Fuliu.

She turned back.

“Mother, no matter what happens today, don’t panic. Everything will be fine.”

Madam Zi frowned, puzzled by such words on a bonding day.

Liu shuang smiled without explanation and boarded the carriage.

The procession circled Kongsang before arriving at the Heavenly Palace.

Shaoyou awaited her there.

To deceive Feng Fuming, Kunlun had sent few immortals, while Kongsang’s turned out in full force.

Amidst the mist, Liu shuang spotted Shaoyou.

Like her, he wore white bonding robes, his crown adorned with jade pearls forged in the Shennong’s Cauldron.

His beauty was peerless.

As she descended, their eyes met.

Shaoyou’s gentle smile silently reassured her: Don’t be afraid. I’m with you.

Warmth eased Liu shuang’s tension.

The ceremony began.

Kongsang hadn’t seen such grandeur in millennia.

As the immortal officiant chanted, auspicious cranes took flight.

Liu shuang placed her hand in Shaoyou’s.

His palm was warm as he led her toward the grandest hall, where Chishui Chong presided.

The lord’s gaze kept flicking beyond the palace.

Liu shuang knew—he was waiting for Yan Chaosheng.

She glanced at the hidden formation beneath her feet.

Infused with Fuxi’s divine power, only she could sense it.

The ritual required vows, heart’s-blood exchange, and spiritual essence-merging to complete the bond.

After the immortals’ blessings, Yan Chaosheng still hadn’t appeared.

Liu shuang couldn’t decide whether to hope for his arrival or absence.

As the officiant prepared for the blood rite, Liu shuang addressed the assembly.

“Father, won’t you bless us by merging Kongsang’s and Kunlun’s spiritual veins?”

The immortals chuckled at the bride’s eagerness to defend her groom.

Shaoyou glanced at her.

By speaking first, she claimed responsibility for what came next.

She was protecting him.

Chishui Chong smiled.

“Very well. Let the veins merge.”

Liu shuang studied her father’s aging face.

If only he wouldn’t try to control Shaoyou.

The elders and Chishui Chong began the merging.

The spectacle drew awed murmurs—the first reunification of the veins since their split.

The officiant announced, “Now, the heart’s-blood exchange, binding your souls for eternity.”

This step would nearly seal the bond.

All eyes turned to them—including Mi Chu’s and Bai Yuxiao’s, now gaunt and mature.

Still, Yan Chaosheng didn’t come.

Shaoyou and Liu shuang hesitated.

Whispers spread.

Even Chishui Chong looked uneasy.

With a sigh, Shaoyou raised his hand to summon the sealing sigil—

“Halt!” A cold voice rang out.

A tempest erupted in the hall as a group of bloodied demons stormed in.

At their forefront stood a figure in black armor, halberd in hand, atop a massive demonic bird.

His gaze was icy.

“Thinking of bonding? Did you ask me first?”

The ceremony shattered into chaos.

Some immortals, not recognizing him, roared, “What demon dares defile Kongsang?”

“Disrupting our heirs’ bonding—have they lost their minds?”

Veterans of the immortal-demon war paled.

“That’s the demon mountain’s lord! How did he get here?”

The demons’ unbridled invasion was the gravest insult—and the deepest fear.

Kongsang’s barrier should have stopped them.

Yet here they were, stronger than ever.

“His mount—that’s the ancient demon bird Qingwen!”

“Exterminate these evil remnants!”