Chapter 116: Is It Enough to Care Only About the Immortal Realm?

The wind on the Moon Viewing Terrace was strong. Zi Lian did not glance at me once, nor did he utter a single word. Instead, he turned his back to me again, tilting his head to gaze at the mist hovering above the bamboo grove.

He did not ask me anything, and I remained silent, quietly standing behind him, my eyes fixed on his figure with a mix of longing and resentment.

At this moment, am I the one causing him such anguish?

If it is me, then what must I do now to bring him happiness?

We stood on the terrace for a long time—he said nothing, and I remained speechless. The moonlit white robe fluttered in the wind, my hair disheveled, yet I had no heart to care.

We watched as the blazing sun sank into a crimson dusk, and the gentle breeze grew chill, seeping into the bones. Still, he stood motionless on the terrace. I simply watched until my eyes grew moist, yet I never caught even a single glance from him.

The evening breeze was cool, but not as piercing as the silent pain his turned back inflicted upon me. After waiting for over a thousand years, I had finally caught up to him. Was it right or wrong? Why, at this moment, had the bond between us reverted to that of strangers? Did he no longer have a word to say to me?

“Xiao Yu.”

At last, Zi Lian’s voice broke the silence, soft and distant.

But after that gentle call, he sighed deeply.

“Master, Xiao Yu knows her mistake.”

I did not know how to please him; all I could do was kneel and beg for his forgiveness.

“A mistake?”

His voice held a hint of doubt as he turned to look at me, then after a long pause, he asked, “What mistake has Xiao Yu made?”

“I—I—I shouldn’t have disguised myself as a man to come to Lingyun Mountain and cause trouble. I shouldn’t have hidden things from you, Master. I shouldn’t have... I shouldn’t have...” My voice grew faint as I lowered my head, unable to continue.

I had many things I shouldn’t have done beyond the cross-dressing. I shouldn’t have mingled with mortals, hoping to become your disciple, even daring to dream of becoming your wife. I shouldn’t have lied to you, shouldn’t have feigned being a mortal to win your pity. I shouldn’t have concealed the matters of Butai from you; even now, you know nothing. I have many regrets, and there will be more to come, but all of it stems from the heart’s desire to stay close to you.

“Enough. I already know all this. Now, get up.”

He stepped forward and extended his hand toward me. I hesitated for a moment but placed my hands in his palm, one over the other. An inexplicable emotion surged within me, and a wetness brimmed my eyes.

“Come, accompany me for a walk.”

His arm slipped around my waist. My heart stirred with excitement as I glanced up to smile at him, but his face remained as impassive as before, betraying no emotion.

Beneath our feet, a cloud of auspicious mist appeared. Zi Lian supported me as we flew toward the bamboo grove.

The wind rustled through the bamboos, and the sunset cast a warm glow, painting the grove in scattered crimson hues. Above us, the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. He gazed at the fading light, while I stood behind him, stealing glances at his profile when he was not looking.

The cloud beneath us gently descended. I looked down to see a sea of flowers. But this sea was not a lotus pond; instead, it was filled with glaring scarlet red spider lilies.

The sunset’s hue stained a jade-green pool before the flowers, turning it an ominous blood-red.

Zi Lian stepped closer to the pool, and I followed silently behind.

Approaching nearer, I realized that the pool’s water was not merely tinted by the sunset’s glow—it was red in its very essence, glaringly so, as if it were a pool of human blood.

“Master, why is this pool red?” I asked, startled, turning to him with a puzzled expression.

“That is not water.”

His face grew grave as he slowly approached, dipping his hand into the pool and scooping some of the liquid. “Xiao Yu, come and smell it.”

“Yes, Master.”

Hearing him call my name, I hurried to his side. He held the substance between his hands, and I bent forward, inhaling deeply. A strong metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils instantly.

“Cough, cough... Why? Why is this pool not filled with water, but with... blood?”

A violent nausea surged within me. How many lives had been spilled to fill this pool with blood? How many had perished?

“Three thousand years ago, there was a great war between immortals and demons. Though called a battle between the immortal and demon realms, many beyond those two domains were involved. It was a catastrophe for the immortal realm and a calamity for the mortal world. Even after three millennia, I still remember that day—the blood-red setting sun, the chaos engulfing the six realms. No realm was spared; countless died in every world. The skies were stained with blood, the sun setting over fields strewn with corpses and piled bones—a sight terrifying beyond words.”

He poured the blood-red liquid back into the pool. “This pool’s water has grown red over the years because the green algae at its bottom have absorbed the blood’s crimson hue. It is no longer as vividly red as it once was.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, followed by a long sigh.

An immortal’s heart embraces all under heaven—not only the immortal realm but also the mortal and demon worlds. His concern lies with the entire six realms. At this moment, I only wish he could be selfish, caring only for the immortal realm. Would that not be easier to bear?