Chapter 10: A Private Meeting

                         

When Li Hanguang first stepped into the sleeping palace, he immediately understood Xi Jiuge’s intention—

she meant to kill him.

She knew nothing about her old classmate of two thousand years, but he had observed her long enough. Even without speaking, he could read her habits with effortless clarity.

Cold, arrogant, and detached—
Xi Jiuge’s world contained only Baidi and Ji Shaoyu. Even if the eldest daughter of the Xiling Clan arrived, she would never be invited to sit on Xi Jiuge’s private couch.

He, an outsider with whom she had a violent history, had no right whatsoever to enter her inner hall, let alone drink tea poured by her own hand.

And when she handed him that jade cup, he recognized it instantly.

Tianxian.
The name sounded pure, almost celestial, but among the heavens it was the most infamous poison—beautiful as a blooming immortal flower, yet its petals held a toxin so swift and silent that even a Da Luo immortal had no hope of surviving it.

The longer one lived, the more one feared death. Long ago, Tianxian had threatened the interests of the noble Protoss; it vanished after the Five Heavenly Emperors jointly banned it. Yet here it was, placed before him in a porcelain cup.

She was willing to use such a precious, extinct poison on him.
And Li Hanguang almost admired her for it.

He had originally planned to dispel her cold poison the moment he entered—just as he had said. He wouldn’t dare try during the day, when his strength was unstable, his mana shallow compared to a thousand years later. A single slip could damage her meridians. Hurting her had never crossed his mind.

But the instant she invited him to sit, he sensed her killing intent.
So he changed his mind.

He was willing to drink poison—
but he would not willingly die, forcing Xi Jiuge herself to revive him.

Li Hanguang collapsed with a faint smile on his lips.

Xi Jiuge hadn’t expected him to react like that. She immediately grabbed his robes to shake him awake, but he was already unconscious. When she pulled, his weight dragged unexpectedly, nearly pulling her down with him. She caught the fence just in time, keeping herself upright.

A curtain of dark hair slipped over her shoulders, casting thin shadows across her collarbone. Xi Jiuge lowered her head and saw Li Hanguang lying on her couch—eyes closed, skin pale as frost, serene and unaware, looking like a lamb awaiting slaughter.

But a lamb being slaughtered would never leave cold poison in another’s meridians. Xi Jiuge did not let his purity fool her. She raised her hand, condensing a razor-sharp blade at her fingertips, and pressed it to his carotid artery.

“Stop pretending. Speak.
What did you do to my meridians?”

He lay still. Eyes shut. Breath soft. Utterly motionless—as pure and quiet as laurel beneath the moon.

She pressed harder, easily slicing his skin. A fraction deeper and she would end him.

But Li Hanguang did not react. His eyelashes didn’t even tremble.

Xi Jiuge stared for a long time before checking his pulse.
There—definite signs of Tianxian.
He had truly drunk the poison.

If she killed him now, he wouldn’t even know why.

Xi Jiuge’s fingers tightened. She wanted nothing more than to pierce his throat. He had known her meridians were damaged, yet chose this exact moment to mention it. Anyone else would suspect he had planned everything the moment he drank the tea.

If he hadn’t swallowed the poison so calmly, Xi Jiuge would have thought the entire scene was a trap.

She hadn’t poured Tianxian to kill him—only to test whether he remembered anything.

The Heavenly Fairy poison was long extinct. Ordinary Protoss would not recognize it, but for the Five Heavenly Emperors, it was no secret. Li Hanguang had once become Emperor Xuan in a previous life and later invaded the Shennong lands. There was no reason for him not to know Tianxian.

Yet he drank it without hesitation.

That meant he was indeed the Li Hanguang who had just ascended to the heavens—
ignorant of Protoss secrets. Unable to identify poison.

Had she been too cautious?

Xi Jiuge looked down at the unconscious man lying on her own couch.
Kill him?
Too wasteful.
Let him live?
Too frustrating.

If it had been anyone else who touched her meridians today, she would have already dragged them before Baidi for forced interrogation. But this was Li Hanguang—cunning, calculating, raised in the brutal demon realm, trained in yin-yang deduction within Dasi Youfu.

And she could not ask Ji Shaoyu for help either. He shared her cold attribute, and though he and Li Hanguang both inherited Emperor Xuan’s physique, their cultivation paths were different. Ji Shaoyu was upright, refined—trained by masters. Li Hanguang relied on luck and survival; his aura flowed in treacherous, unpredictable patterns.

Even if Ji Shaoyu tried to help, it might worsen things.

Her spiritual power had been unstable all day. She could feel the blockage worsening. If she delayed any further, the damage might become permanent.

Even if she wanted to stab this man to death—
saving herself came first.

She had no choice.

She had to detoxify him.

—

When Li Hanguang awoke, the palace was bathed in darkness. There were no lamps—only moonlight pooling across the floor like liquid silver.

Earlier, Xi Jiuge had questioned why he came so late at night.
Now it was truly the dead of night.

He tested his body—aside from weakness, he felt no pain. As if he had merely dozed off.

As expected of a radiant goddess—
even her poison was refined.

Pressing a hand to his forehead, he sat up slowly and asked, voice hoarse,
“…What happened to me?”

He played the role of a helpless, ignorant hostage so naturally it almost deserved applause.

Behind the screen, Xi Jiuge had already sensed he was awake. But she was still annoyed—having been forced to save him—and refused to acknowledge him.

Li Hanguang looked around theatrically, as though only now noticing her presence.
“Goddess? Did I… fall asleep?”

She didn’t bother inventing a story.
She simply nodded. “Mm.”

Li Hanguang immediately tried to rise and bowed slightly despite his unsteady limbs. “Forgive me for the discourtesy. I don’t know what came over me—suddenly everything went dark—”

He swayed in the moonlight, white-clad form faintly trembling, like a fragile shadow beneath a dying bloom. Standing there, he looked paler and thinner than Ji Shaoyu—almost translucent.

Especially his waist—so narrow it seemed a single hand could encircle it. No one would imagine that this delicate frame, once holding a blade, had nearly slaughtered half the heavens.

Xi Jiuge watched him in silence before saying lightly,
“Perhaps Shao Siyou was too gravely injured today. It would make you prone to fainting.”

Her suspicion had not vanished.
She was not someone ruled by emotion; calm logic was her armor.
Arrogant emperors could be deceived.
Greedy emperors could be blinded.
But Xi Jiuge was different—far more dangerous, far more difficult to fool.

He had put on two flawless performances, and she still remained steady in her judgment.

Li Hanguang almost laughed. A woman so rational and sharp was truly remarkable.

Life was a battlefield; she understood that instinctively.

With a faint blush of embarrassment, he looked at her and said sincerely,
“To tell the truth… most of the injuries I displayed today were feigned. The goddess has the Queen Mother of the West behind you and need not fear anything. But I am merely a proton newly arrived. If I stand out too much, the Five Emperors may take offense. So I pretended to cough blood.”

Xi Jiuge stared—and then unexpectedly smiled.

She stepped out from behind the screen, her expression unreadable as she approached him.

“So,” she asked softly, “you’re saying you let me strike you earlier?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”
He lowered his gaze, and though he was acting, the confusion in his eyes felt almost genuine.
“Why would the goddess assume that?”

She stopped before the steps, looking down at him from above.
Li Hanguang bowed his head respectfully, letting her scrutinize him.

Despite his frail appearance, his bones were strong, his shoulders broad and waist narrow, his muscles compact—built not for beauty but for survival in the demon realm.

Xi Jiuge, by contrast, had a slender frame and narrow shoulders. Standing next to him, she seemed half his width, even with the steps between them.

As he bowed, his eyes flickered upward briefly.
Her waist was so slim his hand could probably span it.

A beautiful berry—
sweet to the eye, poisonous to the tongue.

He remembered how earlier she had panicked when he came too close, how she bristled when touched. She rarely had physical contact with anyone.

Ruthless yet naïve.
Powerful yet inexperienced.
Pure yet cruel.

All contradictions woven into one extraordinary woman.

She asked,
“Where did you learn your cultivation method?”

“I didn’t. I stumbled my way through it.”

“You’re barely a thousand years old. You vomit blood before a crowd and apologize behind their backs. How can someone so young be so calculating?”

Barely a thousand?
He was older than her by centuries.

He replied humbly, “The goddess flatters me. In the demon realm, one simply learns to survive.”

She asked coldly,
“And invading my meridians with yin-cold qi—was that also survival?”

He let out a soft sigh, raised his eyes just enough, and said with disarming sincerity,
“Everything I said earlier was true. I never intended to harm the goddess. But I had no choice. The goddess knows how much power she used.”

Eyes wide, dark, and gentle—like wet grapes—
it made his explanation seem almost innocent.

Xi Jiuge studied him. Earlier, she had been suspicious, but after he admitted to faking his injuries to avoid attracting imperial attention, she accepted the logic easily.

Others would think him untrustworthy, but Xi Jiuge had no emotional biases.
His reasoning was logical; that was enough.

For now, she believed him.

“You’d better tell the truth,” she said. “Now remove your cold qi.”

Li Hanguang nodded obediently. “Yes.”

When Xi Jiuge went behind the screen, he waited a moment, then walked after her. She shot him an irritated look.

“So slow.”

He accepted the scolding with polite humility.
“Goddess, then… shall I sit?”

She frowned, clearly impatient with his chatter.

That was permission enough.
Li Hanguang sat beside her, pressing his hand to the spot where their energies had collided earlier in battle.

“Goddess, don’t resist. I will draw the cold out.”

Xi Jiuge was unused to such closeness. This was her sacred private hall—even Ji Shaoyu never entered here. And now a man she had fought fiercely mere hours ago was touching her arms and back.

She remembered reading somewhere that unmarried men and women should not be alone together at night. But she had a marriage contract, and he had someone he loved. They did not count as “a lonely man and woman.”

She exhaled and forced herself to remain calm. Her meridians came first.

Li Hanguang’s touch was strictly proper—no more, no less. He moved with precise control, guiding the cold qi out of her body. Soon he withdrew his hand, stood, and bowed.

“Goddess, it is done.”

Xi Jiuge immediately tested her aura.
The blockage was gone.
She breathed in relief.

Seeing this, Li Hanguang spoke at once, his tone respectful and soft:

“I behaved poorly today and caused the goddess trouble. There was no ill intent… but many offenses. Please forgive me. It is late—I should not disturb your recovery. I will take my leave.”

Though he declined courtesy, Xi Jiuge had etiquette carved into her bones. She rose to escort him regardless.

At the doorway, Li Hanguang turned.
“It is late. The goddess should rest.”

Xi Jiuge nodded.
“I won’t see you far. Shao Si, walk carefully in the dark.”

Li Hanguang paused, then said lightly,
“The goddess need not be so formal. You may call me by name.”

Xi Jiuge felt the line sounded familiar, but she had heard too many things in her life. She simply nodded,
“Very well. Shao Siyou, walk safely.”

Li Hanguang fell silent.

So she hadn’t registered his hint at all.

Maintaining a polite smile, he bowed and departed.

But the moment he stepped out of Chonghua Palace, he sensed someone hidden outside.

He didn’t react.
Didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t change his pace.

Calmly, naturally, he walked toward his residence—
as if he had noticed nothing at all.

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