Chapter 5: Xi Jiuge’s Dangerous Pact

                                

Emperor Hanguang raised a brow, his tone laced with amusement. “What deal?”

Xi Jiuge glanced around, then quietly cast a soundproof barrier. Hanguang watched every movement with a faint, knowing smile but made no effort to stop her. He simply observed, eyes gleaming with intrigue.

After ensuring no one could overhear, Xi Jiuge finally spoke. “You came here in the middle of the night to capture Ji Shaoyu and reclaim Chang Ju. Unfortunately, you were a step too late—both of them have already left. You’re angry, and you want to humiliate me. But that’s unnecessary. If Chang Ju no longer loves you, even if you marry me out of spite, you’ll never move her heart. So, why not cooperate instead? We both stand to gain.”

Li Hanguang chuckled softly halfway through her speech, then nodded. “And how does the goddess propose we cooperate?”

“Reverse time,” Xi Jiuge said calmly. “Return to when Ji Shaoyu and Chang Ju first met, and stop them from falling in love. That way, he remains my betrothed, and you won’t have to fear losing Chang Ju again.”

At her words, Hanguang’s easy smile faded. The amusement in his eyes sharpened, replaced by a cold, piercing light. Slowly, he leaned in until their faces were only inches apart—their breaths mingling in the space between them.

Xi Jiuge held her composure, not flinching under his gaze. His beauty was lethal—eyes deep and tender, yet utterly ruthless. Despite the closeness, there was no trace of shyness or fear in her steady stare.

“Mingjing Goddess,” Hanguang murmured, “reversing time is a forbidden art in all three realms.”

Among the countless secrets of the six races—immortals, demons, and ghosts—there was only one unanimously banned technique: manipulation of space and time. And reversing time was the gravest taboo of all.

“I know,” Xi Jiuge replied evenly. “But if something proves useful, how can it be called forbidden?”

He smiled faintly. “Those aren’t the words of a pure, righteous goddess admired throughout the three realms.”

She met his eyes coolly. “Ten years ago, Your Majesty was a paragon of virtue among the heavens. Yet now, haven’t you committed your fair share of transgressions?”

Hanguang chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her temple. “You’re right. In that sense, we’re quite well matched.”

“I’m the crown princess,” Xi Jiuge reminded him coldly. “If tonight hadn’t gone awry, you should be calling me sister-in-law.”

At that, his eyes darkened, though his lips still curved into a teasing smile. “It’s hard to say which of us is older, and in any case…” He paused. “You won’t be married tonight. Something will interrupt this wedding.”

His certainty sent a chill through Xi Jiuge. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “Chang Ju… you really did give it to her?”

“Give what?” He smiled faintly. “You sound so sure of me, goddess. Why would you suspect me first?”

But his tone gave him away, and Xi Jiuge’s suspicion hardened. Her voice trembled with restrained fury. “You and I have no enmity. Why would you do this?”

Hanguang laughed softly. Though still clad in battle armor—his body carrying the scent of blood and death—his smile melted like ice under sunlight, disarmingly gentle. “You misunderstand. I did gift Chang Ju a weapon strong enough to break all barriers. But I had no idea she’d use it to come to Kunlun. If I’d known, it wouldn’t have been Chang Ju who took Ji Shaoyu away tonight—it would’ve been me.”

Xi Jiuge hesitated. It was true—he had no reason to humiliate her. Chang Ju, however, was the woman he cherished more than his own life. If he’d known about the wedding, he would have taken Chang Ju himself rather than ruin Xi Jiuge’s reputation.

He must have rushed to Kunlun as soon as he heard, despite his injuries from battling the Red Emperor in the south. But even then, he had arrived too late.

Now, sitting close enough to smell the faint blood on him, Xi Jiuge realized it wasn’t his enemy’s blood—it was his own.

He’d crossed countless mountains wounded, desperate, only to arrive after the one he loved was gone. Such a man could never truly marry her. His earlier words were mere retaliation—an act of vengeance born from humiliation.

She couldn’t help but feel a flicker of understanding. The greatest insult to any man—beast, mortal, or god—was betrayal. Hanguang had protected Chang Ju since her birth, guided her cultivation, shielded her through every hardship. To have her elope with another man—his own half-brother—was a wound that cut to the bone.

“Your Majesty,” Xi Jiuge said quietly, her voice softening. “I understand your pain. Since you’re unwilling to let go, you should accept my proposal. In the end, all cultivators seek to follow their hearts. If you can’t have the one you love, then what meaning does power hold?”

Hanguang studied her face. “Reversing time isn’t a small matter. If something goes wrong, your reputation will be destroyed. You love him that deeply? Enough to defy the heavens for him?”

Xi Jiuge smiled faintly. “Naturally. I’ve been betrothed to him for years. Were it not for Chang Ju, we’d already be married—raising our brows together, living a peaceful, happy life.”

He regarded her in silence, eyes dark as ink. “Why him?” he finally asked. “Why Ji Shaoyu?”

For a heartbeat, she faltered. “I’ve known him since childhood. We’ve been together for many years. Who else would I choose but him?”

After a long pause, Hanguang straightened and said simply, “Very well.”

“You agree?” she asked, surprised. “Without even asking how I plan to do it—or the risks?”

He gave a small smile. “What could the goddess do that isn’t dangerous?”

Xi Jiuge’s tone grew serious. “Reversing time and space requires tremendous power. I can’t do it alone. And the Qing Emperor, the Queen Mother of the West, and my brother are all present—if I act recklessly, they’ll sense it immediately. But I’ve discovered an ancient secret formation capable of tearing open a temporal rift. Even a Golden Immortal couldn’t stop it in time. We can’t change the present, but we can travel to the past through its gap. It demands immense spiritual power, though—I’ve failed to activate it with my own strength. I need your help.”

Hanguang nodded. She hesitated, then added, “Once we cross the rift, we don’t know what awaits. Perhaps the Void will consume us. Perhaps we’ll face the chaos itself…”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted softly. “If the goddess dares to venture with me, what do I have to fear? Danger and opportunity are twins. To die in pursuit of one’s goal—there’s no greater honor.”

His calm acceptance unsettled her. He had avenged his father and ruled the heavens—he had nothing left to lose. But she still had plans.

Without another word, Xi Jiuge rose, her long gown sweeping the floor, and began drawing the formation. Glowing lines appeared midair under her fingers, weaving together with elegant precision. Hanguang watched her with admiration. “A goddess mastering immortal techniques—how impressive.”

She smiled faintly. “Not nearly as impressive as Your Majesty. When we return to the past, perhaps you can teach me a thing or two. The formation’s ready. You may begin.”

He channeled his aura into the formation, a powerful surge of icy blue light flooding through the runes. “The goddess always calls me ‘Your Majesty,’” he said lightly. “It sounds too distant. Next time, call me by my name.”

The formation ignited in blinding light. Xi Jiuge barely had time to marvel at the overwhelming power he wielded before a rift tore open before them—dark, silent, and infinite.

Just before the world dissolved, she thought she heard his voice again, faint and distorted—“If we start down different paths, will you still…?”

The words had vanished into the void, leaving Xi Jiuge uncertain.

High above, in the heart of the heavens, the Jishan mountain range shimmered under a pale, celestial light.

A gentle wind rustled the leaves, carrying the sound of the trees and the occasional leap of an elk through the forest. The breeze drifted into the palace through mulberry trees, sending purple petals fluttering down like fragments of the night sky, spreading across the ground like a delicate cosmic blanket.

A few petals slipped through the open window, landing on a pair of white, jade-like fingertips. The owner’s hand twitched, startled by the movement, and quickly withdrew.

Xi Jiuge blinked, opening her eyes to a book lying before her, its pages filled with fresh handwriting. She had been reading—or perhaps had dozed off with her forehead resting against the page.

She studied the spell book in front of her, puzzled. Why would she be reading such a basic manual? Then realization struck. She jumped to her feet and surveyed her surroundings.

The light inside was bright, the architecture elegant, wind chimes jingling softly under the eaves. No snow lay outside, no harsh sunlight gleamed—clearly, this was not Kunlun Mountain. She was in her own residence: Yongtiangong’s Chonghua Palace.

To allow the juniors to focus on their studies, Yongtiangong followed a boarding system. Students only returned home once a month, spending the rest of the time within the palace walls.

When Empress Xuan sent Xi Jiuge and Ji Shaoyu to Yongtiangong, she had worried that Xi Jiuge might struggle to adjust. So she built a palace for her—an exact replica of her chambers in Kunlun, also called Chonghua.

The Empress’s generosity stirred whispers throughout the heavenly palace. The maids murmured that she treated Xi Jiuge better than her own children, that even the princes had never enjoyed such favor.

But Xi Jiuge knew the truth: Empress Xuan’s kindness was a strategy. Every gift, every privilege, was a thread meant to bind Xi Jiuge in place and pave the way for her son.

Standing in the familiar palace, Xi Jiuge paused. She had done it—she had returned a thousand years before her wedding.

Her memories slowly resurfaced: she and Di Hanguang had constructed a formation in Kunlun Mountain, tearing a rift in space-time. Xi Jiuge had leaped into the crack, and in an instant, the void swallowed the formation, leaving the palace behind as if nothing had happened.

The void—where Pangu was born—was a place without space or time, the universe in its earliest state. Her formation had bridged two eras. By crossing its path, she could return a thousand years into the past.

But the passage was perilous. Xi Jiuge struggled to recall her journey through the void; the memories were fragmented, likely disturbed by the chaotic energy there.

She checked herself, feeling a measure of relief. Within her sea of consciousness, the broken delusion pearls lay shattered. The artifact had safeguarded her mind, shielding her from countless illusionary realms. Now it was ruined—but in preserving her memory, it had served its final purpose.

Her plan was clear. To return to the past, she had to ensure Ji Shaoyu’s rise to the throne. If the Yellow Emperor and the Xuan Emperor vanished, even her marriage to Ji Shaoyu would be meaningless. She would break his engagement to Chang Ju and secure Ji Shaoyu as the next Xuan Emperor.

Using the remaining power of Emperor Hanguang, Xi Jiuge activated the formation, carefully observing the laws of cause and effect. Memories from the future could not naturally cross time—they would be erased. Any disturbance could imperil countless lives.

Without her delusion pearl, she would have forgotten everything upon arrival. Instead, she preserved her memories, narrowly escaping the law’s interference. Emperor Hanguang, unprepared, would retain only his present self.

Xi Jiuge examined her divine body. Her mana had dissipated, but her skills and experience remained intact. Compared to Di Hanguang, who had lost everything, her losses were minor.

She allowed herself a moment of ease, letting her gaze wander. A thousand years ago… what day was it now?

Footsteps echoed outside, followed by a familiar, cheerful voice: “Jiuge, why are you so late today? Time to go to class.”

Before the words could finish, the door opened. Xi Jiuge stumbled, startled. And then she saw him: Ji Shaoyu, the most favored prince of the heavenly realm, her fiancé.

At their wedding, he had left with another, claiming he had never cared for her. Yet now, he was here.

Ji Shaoyu noticed her expression and hurried forward. “Jiuge, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? If you don’t want to go to class, I can take leave from my master and accompany you to see a miracle doctor.”

Xi Jiuge avoided his gaze. She knew the fault wasn’t his—yet at the sight of him, memories of that wedding flashed unbidden. She steadied her voice, though a chill lingered. “No. I don’t have much energy today. You… help me take leave from the master.”

She had already mastered Yongtiangong’s basic spells. Today, she would meditate and regain her mana for the thousand years ahead.

Ji Shaoyu noticed her tone, concerned. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good,” he said with a smile that lit up the room. “Then I’ll stay too. Today, I’ll accompany you in Chonghua Palace.”

He instructed the attendants to request leave. With their status, a single word sufficed. Xi Jiuge returned to her book, flipping through the basic pages. “Has anything major happened in Yongtiangong recently?”

“Major?” Ji Shaoyu poured her tea and chuckled. “Nothing really. The master will announce the rules for the annual exam today. Gao Xin’s running his usual betting game on who’ll rank first—by the looks of it, it’ll be you again.”

His eyes lifted to hers. She seemed different now, her gaze less sly than before. Yet through that subtle golden glimmer, her noble bloodline shone: daughter of Xihe, equal to Fuxi and Nuwa, many generations above the young prince beside her.

In the heavenly realm, bloodline mattered. Yet Ji Shaoyu, hundreds of years older, treated her with care and sincerity. His heart was clear, unpretentious. And slowly, Xi Jiuge had come to accept him as the most fitting companion. Even if she could not share his joy, she would strive to be the crown princess he deserved.

She had never expected they would come to this point. Since when had things changed?

Ji Shaoyu noticed her unease. “Jiuge… are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” she replied coldly. “I just want to meditate today. Take care of the leave.”

He smiled again, undeterred. “Then I’ll stay with you. Today, no class, just us in Chonghua Palace.”

She glanced at the book before her. “Anything else happening?”

He poured her tea, careful and attentive. “Yesterday, some proton students from the demon world arrived. Classes will be livelier soon.”

Her eyes flicked up, pausing at the mention of a name. “Emperor Hanguang?”

Ji Shaoyu corrected gently, “You mean Li Hanguang. He’s from the demon world, the protons.”

Xi Jiuge froze, a faint, golden light flashing across her dark eyes. Di Hanguang… or Li Hanguang. What a coincidence—they had met again so soon.

The man who dared disturb her on her wedding night, who had touched her and whispered threats, was now only a fragile proton.

She wanted to see clearly, to understand who truly held power now.

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