Fu Ling paid no heed to Jin Yao's explanations, each word falling on ears that had long since stopped listening.
Having grown up among the Yao Race in her youth—running through forests where her mother's people lived, learning their ways, breathing their air—she had always harbored deep prejudices against the Immortals. After her mother's death at the hands of an Immortal, brutal and unnecessary, her hatred only intensified until it became the core around which her entire identity revolved.
Were it not for Jin Yao being her only remaining kin, the last thread connecting her to anything resembling family, she would never have stayed among the Immortals for so long. She had waited all these years for Jin Yao to avenge her mother, the late Lady Chaohui. Waited with the patience of stone, with hope that slowly curdled into bitterness.
Yet even after Feng Ran's Ascension, when Jin Yao ruled the Heavenly Palace for eight hundred years with absolute authority, he never once mentioned the matter. Instead he showed courtesy to Yu Feng and the others—her mother's killers—treating them with respect and camaraderie.
Now that Fu Ling had come of age, now that she'd grown from grieving child into woman with agency, she could no longer suppress the resentment festering within her like an infected wound. She refused to remain a low-ranking Immortal Lady any longer, powerless and patronized.
Zhen Yu had promised to help her break the Seal suppressing her Yao power, cleanse her Immortal bones, and allow her to retrain in the Dao of the Yao. Once she cultivated enough to attain Divine Power, she could personally avenge her mother with her own hands.
Justice. Finally, justice.
Fu Ling had returned to the Heavenly Palace to retrieve her mother's legacy—the Cloudfire Arrow—from Jin Yao's hall. When Jin Yao sensed her intentions through divine awareness, he pursued her relentlessly across realms. Had Zhen Yu not appeared suddenly like a red comet, she would have already been dragged back to the Heavenly Palace by her father, imprisoned in gilded concern.
"Ungrateful child! If you dare defect to the Cold Spring Palace today, I will disown you!" Jin Yao roared in anguish upon hearing Fu Ling's plan to discard her Immortal bones and dissolve her core.
The words tore from him, half threat, half desperate plea.
Though peace had been maintained between Immortals and the Yao Race in recent years—a fragile détente built on exhaustion rather than understanding—they remained strictly separate. The Cold Spring Palace was notorious across the Three Realms for its ruthless methods, its willingness to employ tactics other powers considered beneath dignity.
Were it not for Zhen Yu's formidable strength keeping them in check, the Fox Yao Clan would have long destroyed it.
"If you had been willing to abandon your lofty position as a Heavenly Lord and taken Mother into seclusion, I wouldn't have lost her," Fu Ling said coldly, her years of pent-up hatred overwhelming all else—reason, filial duty, self-preservation.
"Since I've already lost my mother, what does it matter if I lose you as a father?"
The question hung like an execution blade.
She abruptly drew the Cloudfire Arrow from behind her back and pointed it at the sky with both hands, the gesture ritualistic, final.
"I, Fu Ling, swear today that I will make every Immortal in the Heavenly Palace pay for my mother's life. From this moment forth, I belong to the Yao Race and have no further ties to you, Divine Lord Jin Yao!"
The Cloudfire Arrow erupted in blazing Yao flames, illuminating the peak of Purple Moon Mountain with her oath. The fire burned red-gold, beautiful and terrible, sealing words that couldn't be unsaid.
Jin Yao trembled with fury—or perhaps grief masquerading as rage. His grip on the Toothed Immortal Sword turned his knuckles white, bloodless. The sword surged with Divine Power in response to its master's turbulent emotions, feeding on them.
The barrier around Purple Moon Mountain reacted to this surge, crackling with violet lightning in warning. Ancient protections recognizing threat.
Seeing the barrier disturbed—seeing those telltale flashes of purple—Zhen Yu's expression tightened. Jin Yao might not know, might be too consumed by paternal anguish to think clearly, but Zhen Yu was well aware that Tian Qi was in secluded cultivation within Purple Moon Mountain.
If Jin Yao's recklessness provoked Tian Qi's awakening, if they dragged a True God from meditation, the Cold Spring Palace would suffer dire consequences. Consequences that would echo for millennia.
The thought of the Yao Emperor's throne contention at the Violet Palace seven years from now sent a chill down Zhen Yu's spine. He couldn't afford to make an enemy of Tian Qi. Not now. Not when everything hung in balance.
He stepped forward decisively, shielding Fu Ling behind his body, and declared sternly, "Divine Lord Jin Yao, Lady Fu Ling has sworn to sever ties with you. From now on, she is under my protection. If you have any grievances, bring them to the Cold Spring Palace!"
He paused, letting that sink in. "This is Purple Moon Mountain—I will not engage with you here!"
With that final pronouncement, he seized Fu Ling's hand and fled toward the Third Heaven, moving with the speed of desperation.
The Toothed Sword, infused with surging Divine Power and Jin Yao's rage, intercepted them mid-flight. The blade moved like lightning, like inevitability.
Zhen Yu was forced back three steps, boots scraping against air itself. Fu Ling paled under the overwhelming force, feeling the pressure like physical weight crushing down.
Jin Yao, his face dark with rage that had burned past reason, blocked Zhen Yu's path with his body and blade. The Toothed Sword gleamed in his hand, hungry.
"Zhen Yu! You will not take my daughter today!"
Jin Yao knew Zhen Yu's nature all too well—had studied him as one studies threats. Fu Ling was already dangerously withdrawn, teetering on the edge of something dark. If she joined the Cold Spring Palace and unleashed her Yao power without guidance, without the tempering influence of immortal restraint, she would be damned for eternity.
She was his only daughter. His only child. He would never let her leave with Zhen Yu, no matter what it cost.
"Jin Yao, I've given you three points of leeway, but don't mistake my courtesy for fear!"
Zhen Yu, with his proud heart-nature and legendary temper, had suffered an unexpected blow from the Giant-Toothed Sword. Enraged and spurred by competitive spirit that wouldn't allow defeat, he pushed Fu Ling firmly behind him and raised his hand.
The Green Jade Divine Halberd materialized in his palm, summoned from wherever artifacts wait between uses.
"You've trespassed into the Yao Race's Holy Land today, disturbing the True God's seclusion. Even if I kill you here on Purple Moon Mountain, the Immortal Realm would have nothing to say!"
Jin Yao couldn't hear Zhen Yu's words at this moment—or perhaps he heard but couldn't process them through the red haze of desperation. Even if Tian Qi himself appeared, not even the True God would sway him from preventing Fu Ling from purging her immortal bones to become pure Yao.
This was beyond politics now. Beyond reason. This was a father's last stand.
With a cold, grim expression that carved years into his face, Jin Yao swung the Giant-Toothed Divine Sword toward Zhen Yu with all the force of divine authority.
The Green Jade Divine Halberd met the sword midair with a sound like worlds colliding. The clash of the two semi-Divine Artifacts above Purple Moon Mountain sent shockwaves of Divine Power radiating outward, waves of force that made reality ripple. The mountain's barrier roared in warning, violet lightning intensifying.
The Immortal and Yao Races had long been at peace—or at least, not actively at war. Divine-Grade figures hadn't clashed in centuries. The moment the two semi-Divine Artifacts collided, the sound of their meeting echoed through the fabric of reality itself.
Powerful beings across the Three Realms sensed the surging Divine Power around Purple Moon Mountain and turned their attention toward it, wondering what calamity had begun.
At that very moment, Zi Han—who had been basking in the Old Dragon King's flattery in the East Sea, enjoying tributes and stories—suddenly looked up, his expression shifting dramatically.
Without even bothering to collect the tribute carefully laid out, without a word of explanation, he transformed into a giant Dragon and soared toward Purple Moon Mountain, inwardly raging with every beat of his massive wings.
Damn it all! Who in the heavens dared to start a fight on Purple Moon Mountain?!
If this disturbance ruined the Divine Lord's refinement of Yue Mi's Divine body, even if he turned into a newly hatched Dragon hatchling for protection, he'd likely be skinned and gutted by the Divine Lord!
The battle atop Purple Moon Mountain raged for an entire day and night, time marked by the sun's passage and the moon's arc.
Jin Yao fought with reckless abandon, his golden crown long since lost—knocked away in some exchange, tumbling into clouds below. Blood matted his hair. Wounds covered him like a second skin.
Zhen Yu, covered in his own wounds that wept crimson, ignored everything else—pain, exhaustion, the distant thought of consequences. His eyes burned with the sole desire to strike Jin Yao down with his halberd, to end this.
The clash of immortal and Yao powers surged around Purple Moon Mountain like a storm, leaving no land intact for miles. Trees exploded. Stone melted. The very air seemed to scream.
Except for the solitary mountain itself, protected by its ancient barrier and remaining eerily untouched like the eye of a hurricane.
"You old monster! You couldn't protect your wife or your daughter, yet you seek to redeem yourself by challenging me? How laughable!"
Zhen Yu swung his halberd with brutal precision, piercing another bloody hole into Jin Yao's shoulder. Blood sprayed. Spitting his own blood, he laughed wildly, the sound unhinged.
"Once your blood runs dry, I'll hang that broken sword of yours in Cold Spring Palace as my trophy!"
He had completely forgotten the far greater number of wounds on his own waist and torso, consumed by the thrill of battle and cruel taunts that fed his pride.
From a distance, Fu Ling watched Jin Yao—battered and drenched in blood, barely standing—and her grip on the Cloud-Fire Arrow tightened and loosened in unconscious hesitation.
She had already sworn a blood oath, the words binding as chains. She and Jin Yao were no longer connected. If she softened now, if she let sentiment weaken her resolve, she would be doomed to an eternity as a lowly Loose Immortal in the Heavenly Palace, trapped in darkness and mockery.
But he was still her father. And he was dying for her.
After a day and night of brutal combat, Jin Yao seemed to have aged a decade, his face gaunt with exhaustion and blood loss. He glanced at Fu Ling, who had remained silent the entire time, just watching.
Then suddenly let out a deep grunt. His body, still gripping the Giant-Toothed Sword, began to turn translucent.
Zhen Yu froze, recognition dawning. "No—"
Just as Jin Yao merged completely with the sword, becoming one with the weapon in the forbidden technique known to end those who use it. The Giant-Toothed Sword suddenly grew taller, blazing with light many times brighter than before, and shot toward Zhen Yu's chest at divine speed.
If he killed Zhen Yu, the Cold Spring Palace would cease to exist in the Yao Realm. Without leadership, without that iron will holding it together, the palace would crumble. Then perhaps… perhaps Fu Ling would willingly return to the Immortal Realm and let go of her hatred.
A sigh echoed from within the Giant-Toothed Sword, the sound carrying centuries of regret.
Jin Yao closed his eyes, channeling every last ounce of his Divine Power into this final strike, hurtling toward Zhen Yu like a falling star.
Even if it means destroying my semi-Divine body and reverting to an immortal… I will protect my daughter in my own way!
Jin Yao, after all, was tens of thousands of years older than Zhen Yu. Though both were demigods, in a true life-and-death struggle where one held nothing back, Zhen Yu stood no chance against Jin Yao's accumulated power and experience.
The full-force strike Jin Yao unleashed was something Zhen Yu couldn't possibly withstand—and even if he somehow survived, his divine body would be so severely wounded that he'd be no match for Chang Mei seven years later at the throne contention.
In the blink of an eye, almost without warning, Zhen Yu suddenly changed direction. Instead of trying to block or dodge, he charged toward the barrier of the Purple Moon Mountain nearby.
The calculated move of one who understood survival.
The Giant Fang Sword, guided by Jin Yao's Divine Power to seek its target like a heat-seeking missile, followed Zhen Yu's new trajectory and hurtled toward the True God's barrier, wreathed in violet lightning.
A deafening explosion rang out—whether by chance or fate or cruel mathematics—the Divine Power of the Giant Fang Sword struck the weakest point of the barrier, piercing through like a needle through silk.
And shooting straight toward the Soul Suppression Tower inside the grand hall.
By now, the soul flames within the tower had reached their peak, burning with intensity that seemed to fold reality.
Tian Qi, seated cross-legged within the flames, had his eyes tightly shut in deep meditation. Opposite him, on a jade platform, a newly forged divine body refined with the power of the Demon God had already taken form—perfect, complete, waiting only for a soul.
The wisp of Divine Sense in Tian Qi's palm, as if possessing its own intelligence, slowly drifted toward the forehead of the newly shaped divine body. It paused just half an inch away, radiating a joyful divine resonance that seemed to sing.
At this moment, Tian Qi within the soul flames also sensed a familiar presence lingering in the tower—a presence he'd searched for across time itself. He opened his eyes, violet irises catching the green flame light, and gazed at that wisp of Divine Sense.
The corners of his lips—silent for three years, unsmiling for millennia before that—finally curled into a relieved and contented smile.
"Yue Mi, you've finally…"
Before his soft sigh could fade, before the moment could complete itself, an overwhelming surge of Divine Power suddenly crashed into the Soul Suppression Tower from outside.
The force broke through the tower's structure with explosive violence, barreling straight toward Yue Mi's already-formed divine body.
Without a second thought, acting purely on instinct deeper than consciousness, Tian Qi lunged toward the jade platform. He shielded Yue Mi's Divine Sense and divine body beneath him, covering them with his own form.
A thunderous explosion!
The moment the Giant Fang Sword's Divine Power struck Tian Qi's body, the top of the Soul Suppression Tower shattered violently. Stone and power fragmented. The chaotic divine flames and the Demon God's power burst through the Purple Moon Mountain's barrier, soaring into the heavens in a pillar of terrible light.
No one noticed that, in the instant these forces collided, the eight divine trees surrounding the tower merged into one. They were blasted out of Purple Moon Mountain by the explosion, vanishing to who-knows-where like seeds scattered by cosmic wind.
Jin Yao and Zhen Yu, locked in their fierce battle, were flung apart by the surging Divine Power erupting from the mountain like toys discarded by a giant's hand. They crashed down on opposite ends of Purple Moon Mountain, broken and unconscious.
Fu Ling bit her lip until it bled and flew toward Zhen Yu's falling figure, catching him before he could strike the ground.
Jin Yao's Divine Sense suffered a direct backlash from the Demon God's power, forcibly ejected from the Giant Fang Sword. His eyes shut tight, consciousness fled, he plummeted toward the ground alongside the divine blade.
Two powerful immortal forces descended from the sky with perfect timing, barely catching the severely wounded and unconscious Jin Yao before he could become a crater.
Yu Feng and Yan Huo glared at Fu Ling and Zhen Yu with fury burning in their eyes—this was her fault, her choices led here—but the scene before them forced them to retreat several steps with Jin Yao held between them.
On the other side of Purple Moon Mountain, Zhen Yu and Fu Ling stared at the unfolding spectacle, a chill creeping into their hearts like ice water in veins.
The barrier of Purple Moon Mountain had shattered completely. Yet the entire mountain range was now engulfed in emerald divine flames that didn't consume but rather transformed. At its center stood a towering jade-green divine pagoda, radiating the overwhelming Divine Might of the Demon God's power.
Power so vast it bent reality around it.
Even a fool could tell now—Tian Qi was here, in Purple Moon Mountain. Had been all along. Before the stunned crowd could even begin to formulate pleas for forgiveness, before terror could fully take root, an enraged dragon's roar echoed from the east.
A blast of dragonfire surged toward the mountain, anger made manifest.
"You reckless fools! Who gave you the right to trespass into Purple Moon Mountain?!"
The torrent of dragonfire left Yu Feng and Zhen Yu's groups scorched and blackened, clothes smoking, pride shattered. The four of them gaped at the colossal dragon form that nearly blotted out half the sky, its scales each the size of a house, and sucked in sharp breaths.
Too terrified to utter a word. Too small before this ancient rage.
The Divine Beast of True God Tian Qi was a purple Dragon that had lived for over a hundred thousand years. Those in the lower Three Realms had only ever seen the smiling young man—charming, mischievous, relatively harmless. They'd never witnessed his true form or the display of his Divine Power in full fury.
Good heavens, truly worthy of being a True God's mount. Even in the lower Three Realms, this was an existence that neither gods nor buddhas dared to provoke.
"Dragon Lord, the immortal Jin Yao has been overbearing, not only intruding into our Yao Realm but also causing chaos in Purple Moon Mountain." Zhen Yu spoke first before Zi Han could erupt in further anger, his voice steady despite his wounds. "In a life-and-death struggle with me, I was forced to retaliate there, inadvertently disturbing True God Tian Qi's meditation."
Covered in blood and looking utterly disheveled, his words didn't seem entirely false. Almost believable.
"Palace Master Zhen Yu, what eloquence! Are you shifting all blame onto our Divine Lord simply because he's severely injured and unconscious?"
Yu Feng, recovering his composure, calmly bowed to Zi Han with the respect due to greater power. "Dragon Lord, Zhen Yu bewitched the only beloved daughter of Divine Lord Jin Yao to leave the immortal clan and join the Yao Race. In his desperate love for his daughter, Jin Yao acted out in rage at Purple Moon Mountain..."
"Nonsense! Fu Ling's birth mother was from the Blood Flower Yao Race. You killed her mother. Whether she chooses to be an immortal or a Yao is entirely her own decision." Zhen Yu's voice carried righteous indignation. "How can you claim I bewitched her? Your immortal clan couldn't keep her, so now you slander me before the Dragon Lord!"
"Zhen Yu, you old demon...!" The Flame Lord's face flushed red with rage, but he couldn't find words to refute. The old grievances between the two clans from thousands of years ago couldn't possibly be judged right or wrong now. Too much blood. Too much history.
"Old demon? I'm merely a few thousand years old—still quite young!"
"Silence!"
The purple Dragon guarding Purple Moon Mountain coldly shouted, cutting off the argument like a blade through silk.
Its enormous dragon eyes swept coldly over Zhen Yu, Jin Yao, Yu Feng, and the others. Even Zhen Yu, who had reached demi-god status and feared little, couldn't help but shudder under that gaze. Let alone the other three who felt their souls shrink.
"Your crimes of disturbing Purple Moon Mountain today will be settled later. Zhen Yu, Yu Feng, spread my decree across the Three Realms: from this day forth, until the gates of Purple Moon Mountain reopen, no human, god, Yao, or demon may trespass within a hundred miles."
Zi Han's voice carried the weight of absolute law. "Should anyone dare, regardless of identity, they shall face the punishment of my heavenly thunder and dragon fire!"
Zi Han spoke with a mix of fury and cold severity that promised no mercy, then exhaled two bursts of dragon fire. The flames forcibly expelled Zhen Yu and Yu Feng's factions from Purple Moon Mountain, throwing them beyond the boundary like unwanted refuse.
Zhen Yu, already severely injured and barely conscious, was helped back to Cold Spring Palace by Fu Ling to recuperate. Yu Feng and the others, preoccupied with Jin Yao's life-threatening injuries and aware they had angered the purple Dragon beyond reconciliation, departed without another word for Heavenly Palace.
As Yu Feng rode the auspicious clouds, he glanced back at Purple Moon Mountain. An inexplicable unease settled in his heart, heavy and cold.
The Soul Suppression Tower clearly emanated True God Tian Qi's Divine Might. Yet why hadn't he appeared despite their commotion? Could something have happened?
Purple Moon Mountain returned to silence—the silence after catastrophe, thick and oppressive.
Zi Han transformed into human form with trembling limbs and stumbled toward the Soul Suppression Tower. Even with his Divine Power, even with a hundred thousand years of accumulated strength, it took tremendous effort to enter the tower ravaged by Yao divine energy and Hundun soul flames.
Once inside, he froze.
Tian Qi lay quietly on the jade platform, holding Yue Mi's body in a protective embrace, both with closed eyes. Yue Mi's faint Divine Sense was safely cradled in Tian Qi's palm, pulsing with new life.
Zi Han hurried forward on unsteady legs, pressing a hand to Tian Qi's forehead.
Then gasped.
And collapsed to the ground despite his hundred-thousand-year composure, his eyes filling with disbelief that couldn't be blinked away.
Trembling, he held Tian Qi's hand for a long time, checking and rechecking, hoping his senses lied. Finally confirming one earth-shattering truth that rewrote everything.
In Tian Qi's Divine Sea between his brows, not a trace of Divine Sense remained.
Nothing. Empty. Gone.
The purple Dragon transformed into a chubby toddler, reverting to his youngest form as if age itself had fled. He clung to Tian Qi's hand and wailed "Wah wah wah" for a long while, tears and snot streaming down his face.
Only after crying its fill—only after grief had exhausted itself temporarily—did it snap back to reality. It reset the barrier around Purple Moon Mountain with shaking hands, sealing everything within, before sniffling and wiping away snot and tears.
Then it fled to seek help in the Divine Realm, carrying news that would shake the heavens.
Meanwhile, in the Star-Gazing Pavilion far removed from mortal concerns, Xuan Yi held a water mirror observing everything happening at Purple Moon Mountain with the detached interest of one watching theater.
He took a leisurely sip from his gourd and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"The outside world is still so fascinating. Watching this drama is far more entertaining than anything in Purgatory."
Zhi Yang frowned at his companion's casual tone, then suddenly twitched his nose. He looked suspiciously at the wine gourd in Xuan Yi's hand, recognition dawning.
"Where did you get that wine?"
This wine didn't smell like anything from the Divine Realm, yet it clearly had considerable age to it—something impossible to preserve in the mortal world without divine intervention.
"This wine?" Xuan Yi shook the gourd with a grin, supremely pleased with himself. "Last time I was so moved by that little girl Yue Mi—absolutely overwhelmed with emotion. Those three carts of wine vessels sitting in Tian Qi's palace were just going to waste, gathering dust."
He took another sip. "Better for me to drink them, consider it doing me a personal favor."
A cup shattered on the floor of the Star-Gazing Pavilion, porcelain exploding into fragments.
Followed by Zhi Yang's furious roar through clenched teeth, the sound echoing through the pavilion.
"That was tens of thousands of years of Yue Mi's heartfelt intentions! You utter scoundrel!"
Leaving aside the laughter and curses within the Star-Gazing Pavilion, leaving aside the divine realm's response to catastrophe, seven years passed in the blink of an eye.
Seven years in which the heavens held their breath. Seven years in which a True God lay silent.
And Bai Shuo grew up in the mortal world, unaware of cosmic drama.
General Bai hoped his youngest daughter would live peacefully and smoothly, perhaps marry well and bear children and grow old in comfortable obscurity.
Unaware that Bai Shuo remembered her vow to cultivate immortality and repay her debt with crystal clarity. The promise burned in her like a coal that never cooled.
Day after day, she persisted in the same task with unwavering determination—seeking masters, studying texts, practicing meditation, refusing to let the dream die.
And this persistence lasted another seven years.
Seven years later, the Bai General's residence became famous far and wide, though not in the way General Bai had hoped.
People said General Bai hadn't just raised a virtuous and wise Crown Princess who graced the palace—he'd also produced a notorious little charlatan known throughout the land.
They called her the Mad Immortal Seeker. They called her the General's Embarrassment. They called her foolish, deluded, touched by fever dreams.
But Bai Shuo didn't care what they called her.
She had a debt to repay. And she would find a way, even if it took a thousand years.
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