Chapter 26: When Memory Turns to Ice

Mu Xuanling's trembling hand rose to touch the warm spot on her brow where power now resided. "I... I didn't sense its presence before."

Sang Qi slowly composed himself, his initial excitement settling into satisfied calculation. "When the Immortal Alliance's Law Bodies gathered in Yongxue City to discuss your fate, he probably concealed the existence of your Spirit Aperture using forbidden techniques, fearing others might detect the anomaly. He might have successfully fooled everyone else, but not me."

"How did you know?" This was the piece of the puzzle that eluded Mu Xuanling's understanding.

"Do you often feel a tightness in your chest? Unexplained pain?" Sang Qi watched her face carefully, extracting the exact expression he wanted, and smiled with dark satisfaction. "Because I planted a spell directly on your heart years ago. It has a deceptively beautiful name, called 'Lingxi'—Linked Hearts."

"Hearts connected, thoughts transmitted," Sang Qi recited the ancient phrase slowly, savoring each syllable. "Therefore, no matter where you are in the Three Realms, I can sense your precise location. I'm also intimately aware of any changes occurring in your body. I knew more clearly than you yourself when your demonic cultivation was dispersed and your Spirit Aperture was opened. Ling'er, since I knew from the very beginning that your heart belonged entirely to Xie Xuechen, how could I possibly not leave myself a contingency plan?"

"So you manipulated people's hearts and set up so many elaborate traps, orchestrated so much suffering—all for the Jade Heavenly Scripture," Mu Xuanling coughed lightly, pain lancing through her chest, and continued with a bitter smile. "Now you've brought me back for the same purpose."

"I have no choice in this matter," Sang Qi sighed, and for a fleeting moment, something almost like genuine regret flickered across his features. "Although practicing forbidden demonic arts has substantially enhanced my power, it still cannot change the fundamental fate of a half-demon. My lifespan is rapidly nearing its end, but by opening a true Spirit Aperture, I can continue cultivating properly, break through the cursed thousand-year lifespan limitation, extend it to two thousand years, or even longer."

"What's the point of living that long..." Mu Xuanling couldn't comprehend Sang Qi's desperate greed for longevity, his willingness to sacrifice anything for more years.

"Because I still have extremely important things to accomplish in this world." A fierce, almost feral look flashed in Sang Qi's silver eyes. He looked down at Mu Xuanling, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair with a mockery of affection. "With Lingxi connecting us, I can comprehend and absorb the Jade Heavenly Scripture through you as a conduit, though you'll inevitably suffer considerably during the process. Ling'er, you're still my disciple when all is said and done. Even if you hate me with every fiber of your being, I won't needlessly harm you."

Mu Xuanling released a cold, hollow laugh at the absurdity of his words.

Sang Qi extended his left hand, revealing a black porcelain bottle resting in his pale palm. With the slightest flick of his eyes, the bottle's lid tumbled off as if compelled by invisible force.

Mu Xuanling stared at the ominous vessel with mounting dread and asked hoarsely, "What is that?"

"This is a medicine designed to make you forget pain—emotional pain, specifically," Sang Qi's smile was slight but carried a terrifying gentleness. "It's a secret drug from Xuantian Temple, called Wuxin—Without Heart. When Xuantian Temple's practitioners ascend to become Law Bodies, they must abandon all worldly emotions and attachments, sever family ties completely, and sacrifice small personal love to achieve boundless universal compassion. After drinking this medicine, they still retain memories of worldly matters and can recognize people around them, but when recalling everything from their past, there's no longer any love or hate, no ripples of emotion disturbing their hearts. This drug is extraordinarily rare, with perhaps fewer than ten bottles remaining in the entire world. I obtained a single bottle twenty years ago and have refined this particular potion anew with certain modifications. Unlike ordinary Wuxin, by adding just one drop of blood to the mixture, the drinker will only forget their emotions and love specifically for the owner of that blood drop."

"All your passionate love stems from Xie Xuechen, and your hatred for your master also arises from him. Once you forget your love for him, naturally, you won't hate me either. With no more bitter grudges poisoning the relationship between us as master and disciple, I can feel completely at ease sparing your life indefinitely."

Mu Xuanling watched in mounting shock and terror as Sang Qi approached with deliberate slowness, shaking her head frantically. "No, I won't drink it..."

"I'm doing this for your own good," Sang Qi consoled with false softness, his voice a poisonous caress. "Ling'er, harboring deep feelings for humans is ultimately harmful and without any real benefit. Human hearts are the most fickle things in existence—today's sweet words and tender promises inevitably turn into tomorrow's cold shoulder and bitter rejection. Your master cannot bear to see you hurt by such inevitable betrayal."

Cornered with nowhere left to retreat, Mu Xuanling covered her mouth tightly with both trembling hands, hot tears already rolling down her cheeks and wetting the backs of her fingers.

"After drinking this, you'll have no more troublesome worldly love for Xie Xuechen. You'll only know—only remember—that you approached him on your master's explicit orders to deceive him for the Jade Heavenly Scripture," Sang Qi's silver eyes gleamed with cold, cruel satisfaction. "He'll also come to understand that he's been deceived and manipulated from the very beginning. If this painful revelation creates devastating inner demons in his cultivation, well, that would be for the best, wouldn't it?"

Mu Xuanling's face streamed with tears as she looked at Sang Qi with desperate, pleading eyes.

"Ling'er, you're too weak, too soft," Sang Qi's gaze slowly transformed, becoming increasingly cruel. An invisible force pried open Mu Xuanling's hands despite her resistance, pinning them firmly to her sides. Sang Qi gripped her jaw with bruising force, compelling her mouth open.

The blood-red liquid seemed to possess a life of its own, crawling deliberately from the black porcelain bottle's mouth, hovering in the air like a living serpent, and flowing inexorably toward Mu Xuanling's forced-open mouth.

She whimpered and struggled with every ounce of remaining strength, but was held immobile by Sang Qi's overwhelming power. Tears gushed uncontrollably as she helplessly felt the cold, viscous liquid slide down her throat and settle into her stomach like a curse taking root.

It was icy cold—that bone-deep, soul-freezing coldness slowly spreading from her abdomen outward, threatening to freeze her solid from the inside out.

Sang Qi released his restraining hold on her. Mu Xuanling, shaking uncontrollably, collapsed onto the cold ground, retching violently, futilely attempting to expel the poison from her system.

"It's entirely useless. Once Wuxin enters your mouth and touches your tongue, there's no turning back," Sang Qi chuckled with dark amusement.

Mu Xuanling covered her mouth with both hands, sobbing uncontrollably, her sounds seeming to oscillate between laughter and crying, as if her mind were fracturing. She slowly raised her head, her eyes red-rimmed and wild, feeling that insidious thread of coldness pass directly over her frantically beating heart.

"Sang Qi, have you ever loved someone?" The question emerged hoarse and broken.

Sang Qi's satisfied smile gradually faded, something dangerous flickering in his expression.

"Did she hurt you... Twenty years ago, you lost an arm. Was it because of someone you loved?"

"Shut up!" Sang Qi's voice cracked like a whip as he coldly interrupted her, his entire body suddenly emanating a terrifying, suffocating aura that made the air itself feel heavy.

Mu Xuanling laughed—actually laughed—even as tears continued spilling from her eyes in endless streams. "But Sang Qi, you've been deceived, you've been hurt and betrayed, yet you still refuse to drink Wuxin yourself. Why is that?"

"You don't want to forget that small bit of warmth she once gave you, even knowing it might have been completely fake from the start."

Mu Xuanling's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I don't want to forget either!"

The bone-chilling cold spread through her entire body like frost claiming a winter field. She closed her eyes and fell unconscious, tears still wet on her cheeks.

---

Every precious moment of their first encounter, she had replayed countless times throughout these seven long years. Each passing day, she had missed him more intensely than the last. She had even contemplated ending it all—simply dying and disappearing from this world to follow him into whatever came after. But half-demons possess no souls after death. In the vast, endless netherworld, where would she even begin to search for him?

The burning desire to avenge his death and the desperate longing to be near him again had sustained her through seven years of living in literal hell within the demon realm, until fate had granted them an impossible reunion.

He had forgotten her completely, but that was acceptable. Just seeing him alive, breathing, existing in the world—that alone had been enough to fill her with joy.

In her increasingly blurry consciousness, Xie Xuechen's face appeared hazily before her inner vision.

— Demons are inherently vicious, and beast-folk are naturally the best at deception.

— But there's one true thing about me.

— Which one?

— The part about liking you.

Xie Xuechen...

I didn't lie to you...

Heart-wrenching pain spread through her chest like cracks in breaking ice. Memories so vivid and precious were being stripped of all color, all warmth, frozen layer by layer. In her rapidly fading memories, he was becoming less special with each passing moment. When she thought of him again after waking, there would be no joy flooding her heart. No pain, no longing, no love.

— Then what meaning is there in my life...

She had been born without inherent meaning or purpose.

---

From her earliest memories, she had been nothing more than a beast wandering on the fringes of human society. She moved with animal nimbleness, possessed strong limbs, keen hearing that could detect a mouse's heartbeat, and sharp eyesight that pierced darkness. From a very young age, she could easily hunt for food to fill her constantly growling stomach. She secretly appropriated discarded clothes from nearby village refuse piles to cover her body, painstakingly learned to use fire to cook food like humans did, and even taught herself to speak by eavesdropping. She liked to hide in shadows and watch humans live their incomprehensible lives. Humans were so much more fascinating than the simple animals in the wilderness. She heard that the teachers in schools were the smartest humans of all, so every morning, she would hide in the thick branches of a tree outside the school building, basking in the warm sun, eavesdropping intently on the teacher's lessons. After school, she would watch with rapt interest as the human children played their games.

She desperately wanted to play with them too. They looked so happy, so carefree.

One day, she carefully washed her face and hands in a stream, and tidied up her patched, ill-fitting clothes as best she could, gathering her courage to approach the children. She genuinely thought she was a human child too—why shouldn't she be? But her appearance startled them. They pointed at her face with cruel fingers, saying she must be too ugly, so hideous that's why her parents had abandoned her to die. She touched her face with sad confusion; there were golden patterns etched into her skin, and that's what made her fundamentally different from the others. A tall, strong boy came over aggressively to shove her away. She felt sad and merely pushed his hand away gently in defense, but somehow he flew backward several feet. The other children erupted in terrified screams, attracting adults. A middle-aged man carrying a sword appeared and tied her up with brutal efficiency, declaring she was a dangerous half-demon, evil and harmful to society, that she had deliberately injured a human child, and that he would deliver her to Mingyue Manor for proper containment.

From that day forward, she became a demon slave at Mingyue Manor. The spirit-binding ring locked around her ankle was engraved with the number zero-zero. She possessed no name, so zero-zero became her entire identity.

It was said that the previous zero-zero had also been a half-demon, who had died at age sixty. Half-demons' bodies were naturally stronger than ordinary humans, often living two to three hundred years in the wild. But after becoming demon slaves, constantly affected by the spirit-binding rings' suppression and subjected to endless brutal labor, they rarely survived past one hundred.

Most of the demon slaves surrounding her wore numb, lifeless faces. They seemed to have lost all individual consciousness, unwilling to speak an extra word, just mechanically following the steward's barked orders to reduce beatings and earn one extra mouthful of food.

She was young then—maybe five or six, maybe seven or eight, her exact age lost to time and abandonment—still desperately longing for the free life she'd known in the wilderness. She attempted escape several times, but the spirit-binding ring's cruel enchantment ensured that if she traveled more than thirty miles from Mingyue Manor, the ring would produce spiritual thorns that pierced directly into her shinbone, causing her to bleed profusely and faint from unbearable agony.

She was inevitably caught and dragged back, then assigned by the vindictive steward to perform the dirtiest and most back-breaking labor—carrying loads several times her own body weight, each step leaving a trail of bloody footprints.

"Half-demons are freakishly strong, most suitable as demon slaves," the steward would chat casually while wielding his whip. "It's thanks to our Mingyue Manor's benevolence in watching over them. Otherwise, with these dangerous half-demons wandering outside freely, who knows how many innocent people would be harmed."

She would pout silently, thinking, I never harmed anyone.

At most, I just took some discarded clothes they didn't want anymore.

The steward declared that half-demons with human bodies but beast features were unsightly and disturbing to proper humans, so some half-demons had their beast ears cruelly cut off and their tails chopped away. Those who lost their beast ears became completely deaf, and those without tails couldn't walk steadily anymore. Once, when she was ordered to feed the manor's horses, the young miss happened to see her face. The spoiled girl was startled and disgustedly struck her across the face with a riding whip, screaming at her to get lost. The steward apologized profusely to the young miss with an obsequious smile, then beat her savagely and ordered her to wear an iron mask at all times, never to frighten people again. If he ever saw the mask removed, he threatened to have it welded permanently to her face.

She was terrified and never dared remove the mask in front of anyone again.

She slowly, painfully learned to control her innate demonic power, using it to prevent the spirit-binding ring from piercing completely into her bones. Her right foot existed in constant pain for so long that the sensation eventually seemed to become numb, just part of her existence. As the years crawled past, she gradually adapted to that kind of existence.

She thought she would probably end up exactly like the previous zero-zero—living in a numb daze at Mingyue Manor for several decades, no longer wanting to speak a single word to anyone, and finally dying silently and unmourned.

Then, six years into her enslavement, everything changed.

She met someone who would alter the entire trajectory of her life.

---

She met him amid swirling wind and snow. He asked if she was cold.

For the first time in over a decade of her existence, she heard such a question directed at her.

She responded automatically, "I'm a half-demon. Half-demons don't get cold."

He removed his expensive fur coat without hesitation and draped it over her thin, shivering shoulders, then wrapped her frozen red hands in his warm palms. He didn't say anything more, but his deep eyes were filled with a heaviness she couldn't begin to understand.

The strange stinging and tingling sensations as her hands slowly warmed made her realize with shocking clarity that half-demons absolutely do get cold. It was just that no one had ever cared enough to notice, no one had ever been concerned about her suffering.

He gently removed the iron mask from her face, not recoiling from or minding her supposedly ugly appearance. His calloused fingertips tenderly caressed the demon markings on her cheeks, and he smiled softly while saying, "Beautiful."

She immediately felt her face flush hot with an emotion she couldn't name.

He heard her stomach growling with hunger. She lowered her head in acute embarrassment, but he simply gathered her into his arms and rose on his sword, letting her nestle against his chest to shield her from the biting frost and snow. He carried her to a nearby town, rented an entire restaurant exclusively for her use, and let her eat the most satisfying meal of her entire life.

Biting her chopsticks thoughtfully, she ventured to test the limits of his generosity. "I've heard that wine is considered a great human delicacy..."

He shook his head gently, his youthful voice carrying an attractive hint of huskiness as he firmly rejected her unreasonable request. "You're still young, you can't drink alcohol."

"Alright." She nodded obediently, her eyes darting as she asked nervously, "Why are you being so kind to me? Do you... want me to do something for you?"

His beautiful phoenix eyes shimmered with soft, warm light as he said with perfect sincerity, "I just want you to be happy."

She frowned suspiciously, her heart skipping several beats. "Could it be... are you my long-lost father?"

The young man appeared stunned, then lightly flicked her forehead with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Is that what you hope for?"

She lowered her head with unmistakable disappointment. "If so, it would be quite nice."

"Why?"

"Then you'd take me away from here, wouldn't you?" A hint of desperate longing flashed in her eyes. "You abandoned me for so many years, so you should make it up to me... right?"

"Heh..." The young man released a soft chuckle, his long lashes hiding the complex emotions churning in his eyes. "So how do you want me to make it up to you?"

"I want to wear pretty clothes every day, eat delicious food whenever I'm hungry, live in a big comfortable house, and sleep for at least two hours every single day!" She spoke with a dreamy, distant look, expressing her wildest fantasies of what a good life might entail.

"Alright, I'll take you." He fondly ruffled her hair with surprising gentleness. "Now that you've eaten your fill, shall I take you to buy some new clothes?"

"Yes, Father!" she called out sweetly, testing the word on her tongue.

The young man shook his head with an indulgent laugh, took her hand firmly in his, and said with sudden seriousness, "Don't call me Father."

"You won't tell me your real name," she grumbled with obvious discontent. "Then what should I call you..."

"Anything but that is perfectly fine."

"Then... can I call you Big Brother?"

"...Alright."

That singular day became the happiest day of her entire life. He smiled and indulged her every whim, fulfilling many of her reasonable and unreasonable requests without complaint. Such a cold and handsome person, yet his palm remained so warm throughout. He held her hand the entire time without once letting go. He clumsily but patiently helped her tie up her soft, long hair and tenderly treated both her old scars and fresh wounds with expensive medicine. He wanted to use his mighty sword to shatter the spirit-binding ring, but the attempt only made her tremble in excruciating pain.

"The spirit-binding ring cannot be destroyed by ordinary external force..." He frowned deeply. "Unless there's the intervention of a Law Body's power, but I'm only at the Yuan Ying stage currently."

"Forget it, don't force it," she said, her little face pale, her right foot trembling slightly from the residual pain. "I've gotten used to it after so many years anyway."

His eyes darkened with something fierce. "I'll go directly to Mingyue Manor and demand that they release you properly."

"Big Brother, who are you exactly? Will they really listen to you?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

She remembered that many years ago, Young Master Nan from Yunxiu Manor had made similar promises, but in the end, he hadn't managed to take her away either.

"Big Brother, it's truly alright, don't force the issue," she comforted him, covering the back of his hand with her smaller one. "Although it was only one day, I've been extraordinarily happy."

Although she was somewhat worried that she had run away for an entire day without completing the tasks assigned by the steward, and would certainly be punished severely tomorrow, having such a perfectly full day of happiness was enough for her to treasure for a lifetime.

She remained a bit disappointed that Big Brother wasn't actually her long-lost father.

"Ling'er, I will take you away from that place," the young man said, gently stroking her hair. "In the future... you must live well, no matter what happens."

"I've always been fine," she said with a bright grin that hid her pain.

"Silly girl," he murmured, looking at the layered scars on the back of her hand with profound sadness.

He took her back to Mingyue Manor as darkness fell and instructed her to hide while he went to negotiate directly with the manor lord. She obediently concealed herself, but the steward still found her by following the directional pull of the spirit-binding ring's enchantment. He scolded her viciously for being lazy and for allegedly stealing the young miss's clothes, then dragged her to see the young miss for judgment.

The young miss glanced at her with disgust, turned away, and said dismissively, "These aren't my clothes. I don't know where she stole them from. Give her fifty lashes as punishment and lock her up afterward. There are many distinguished guests at the manor these days—don't let people see her and laugh at us."

The steward bowed obsequiously and agreed, then had his men seize her for immediate punishment.

To avoid disturbing the important guests, her mouth was gagged with cloth, and she was pressed down in a side courtyard to receive fifty brutal lashes, her body soon seeping with countless bloody marks.

As darkness fell completely, she thought hazily through her pain, Has Big Brother already left?

Suddenly, flames erupted everywhere throughout the manor, accompanied by terrifying roars and desperate shouts. She struggled to raise her eyes to look outside through her haze of agony, but everything went black as rough hands grabbed her and threw her into a room.

An old, gravelly voice said, "This demon slave is approximately the same size as the young miss. Put the young miss's elaborate clothes on her—I'll take her to lead away the pursuers."

"She has a demonic aura that will give her away," the steward's voice objected.

"I can conceal demonic auras."

In her hazy consciousness, she recognized it as the voice of the Manor Elder.

She was hurriedly dressed in the young miss's ornate, expensive clothes, hoisted roughly onto someone's shoulder, and felt the wind and frost hitting her exposed face as the Elder carried her away from the burning Mingyue Manor at high speed.

At that time, she didn't understand what had happened or why. She forced her eyes open slightly and saw a large, terrifying dark shadow pursuing them through the night. The Elder fought while retreating. Her body existed in such severe pain that she soon lost consciousness entirely.

When awareness returned, she found herself lying in a pool of blood.

Someone was holding her desperately tight in their arms. She smelled the familiar fragrance of ice, snow, and plum blossoms. Warm droplets fell on her forehead. She hazily looked up and saw Big Brother's handsome but deathly pale face.

"Big Brother..." she called out hoarsely.

Around them stretched a nightmarish sea of corpses and blood. He held her thin body protectively, his breathing becoming heavier and weaker with each passing moment. Hearing her call, he lowered his head and gave her the gentlest smile.

"Ling'er, don't be afraid."

They were completely surrounded by demon and fiend soldiers. The Elder's corpse lay nearby, already growing cold. Big Brother was covered in countless wounds.

"I'm not the Young Miss Gao—you've got the wrong person!" she cried out desperately to the demons and fiends.

But those bloodthirsty creatures paid no attention whatsoever to her words.

"Kill that sword cultivator, he's almost finished!" The leader of the demons opened his mouth, revealing sharp, bloodstained fangs.

The young man took a deep, shuddering breath, suddenly raised one hand, and gently pressed it against the back of her head, holding her face firmly to his chest. He said softly, "Ling'er, don't look."

Her vision went completely dark, and she could only hear the powerful beating of his heart and a muffled groan of pain caught in his throat.

A thunderous explosion erupted behind her, and she heard countless demons and fiends screaming in agony. It was as if the sun itself had descended beside them in that instant, burning everything away.

The steady beating in his chest suddenly slowed dramatically, his breathing became labored, and he weakly lowered the arm that had been shielding her. She could finally raise her head to look at him.

His sword Wanren lay shattered on the blood-soaked ground. There wasn't a hint of healthy color remaining on his face, but his eyes still held a sad, tender smile.

"Ling'er, run quickly..." Hot blood seeped from the corner of his lips as he struggled desperately to speak. "Sang Qi will be here soon..."

"Big Brother..." She trembled as she tried to wipe away the blood from the corner of his mouth, but more blood kept flowing. She was terrified, more afraid than she had ever been in her entire life, as if the most important thing in her existence was being slowly, inexorably taken away.

"Big Brother, what's wrong? Are you in pain?" Tears fell steadily as she sobbed, caressing his face with desperate tenderness, wanting to give him her warmth, just as he had once given his to her.

"Ling'er, be good, run quickly." He wanted to push her away to safety but had no strength left whatsoever. "I'll be fine, the Immortal Alliance people will arrive soon, you must go!"

He used almost all his remaining strength to shout at her, but she refused to leave. She knelt beside him, holding him with complete helplessness.

"Big Brother, let's go together! You promised to take me with you!" She couldn't help crying out, almost screaming at him through her tears. "You can't lie to me! I don't want to be alone anymore!"

"Ling'er..." His lips parted slightly, weakly calling out her name. "You must... live well..."

"I'm not well, I'm not well at all!" she cried with raw desperation. "I'm just a demon slave, nothing more! Besides you, no one cares about me, no one loves me! You said you'd take me away, and I believed you! Just now when they were beating me, I wasn't sad at all. I thought Big Brother would take me away soon, and I could be with you every day from now on. Just thinking about that possibility made me happy enough to endure anything."

"Big Brother, wherever you go, I'll go with you..."

To the ends of the earth, to the darkest depths of the netherworld, I'll follow you...

She was very strong for a child, and she managed to lift him onto her back. Her tears flowed so heavily she couldn't see the road ahead with any clarity. Warm blood trickled steadily down her neck, but the body on her back grew colder and colder, as cold as the snow surrounding them. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out, but she couldn't stop her entire body from shaking violently.

"Big Brother... please don't go..." She trembled as she called out to him, but there was no response, no comforting words.

Her strength was finally exhausted, and she stumbled and fell hard in the deep snow. The young man's cold body fell beside her. She hurriedly crawled over, hugging him desperately tight, her tears soaking his chest.

"Big Brother, wake up..." She touched his face with trembling fingers and laid her head on his chest, but couldn't hear even the faintest whisper of a heartbeat.

His fingers were stiff and cold, no longer able to gently hold her hand.

She knelt beside him, completely dazed and lost. The wind and snow were fierce and urgent, as if nature itself were holding a grand funeral for someone important.

Her heart suddenly convulsed with unbearable pain, and a sweet, bloody taste rose in her throat, falling onto his chest. She reached out, desperately wanting to wipe away the bloodstains marring his body, afraid of soiling him, but the blood gradually seeped into the fabric and couldn't be wiped away.

The heavy snow covered his eyebrows, his closed eyes, his entire body layer by layer, as if trying to take him away from her forever.

"Ah—"

She clutched his hand tightly and released a painful wail that seemed to tear her soul apart. Excruciating agony exploded in her heart. She felt something vital being violently pulled out of her body. Her vision blurred until all she could see was a vast whiteness and scattered specks of plum red.

It seemed that more demons and fiends were approaching...

She staggered to her feet—she absolutely couldn't let them find Big Brother's body, or they would desecrate it with their filth.

He was as pure as ice and snow, as proud as a plum blossom in winter. She couldn't let him be insulted again.

She ran through the snow in a daze, deliberately leading those monsters away from his resting place.

Her Big Brother remained forever in that snowy field, peaceful at last.

---

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes again and saw a crimson moon hanging in an alien sky.

"We half-demons are abandoned at birth, with no birthdays, no names," Sang Qi's voice came from above as Mu Xuanling raised her head to see the tall black-robed priest looking down at her.

"I was abandoned under a Fusang tree at a crossroads, so I named myself Sang Qi," he said calmly, looking at the black demon tree at the edge of the Void Sea. "You are the dusk bellflower of the demon hour, so I'll call you Mu Xuanling—Twilight Spirit Bell."

"You've been alone and suffering since childhood, enduring endless torment at Mingyue Manor. Today I take you as my disciple. Remember this always: your enemies are those cruel human cultivators. They hurt you, they abused you, they took everything from you. One day, you will step on their heads and be called king!"

Mu Xuanling heard her own childish voice respond, "Not all human cultivators are like that..."

The image of a young man in white flashed through her mind like fading sunlight.

"So what?" Sang Qi sneered with cold finality. "It's time to let them experience our pain."

Those cherished memories in her heart played out one final time like a kaleidoscope of precious moments, then slowly became pale and colorless, no longer stirring any ripples in her heart.

The ice had won.

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