After obtaining access to the intelligence database and incidentally resolving Shay’s identity issue, Xueji left the archives with Shay in tow.
In front of Xueji’s home, Ling Xiaoxiao stood waiting, dressed in the same crimson ruqun she had worn during their first meeting. Her eyes, dark and bottomless as an abyss, burned with resentment as she glared at Xueji.
A week without seeing Xueji had driven Ling Xiaoxiao to the brink—she had even prepared a rope and a burlap sack, fully intending to storm the secret realm and drag Xueji back by force if necessary.
Faced with Ling Xiaoxiao’s overwhelming aura, Xueji shrank back nervously, forcing out a weak, “Uh… long time no see?” But fear got the better of her, and she instinctively took half a step back.
That half-step meant something entirely different to Ling Xiaoxiao—distance, deception, betrayal.
Ignoring Xueji’s greeting, Ling Xiaoxiao’s expression darkened. She yanked Xueji aside violently—only to reveal Shay standing right behind her.
Ling Xiaoxiao froze as if plunged into an icy abyss.
A long-suppressed impulse surged forth uncontrollably. In an instant, the rope in her hands lashed out, binding Xueji tightly, while the burlap sack was unceremoniously thrown over the unsuspecting Shay.
Xueji: “!”
Shay: “Did the sun just set?”
Within ten seconds, both Xueji and Shay were subdued without any chance of resistance. The sheer skill behind the act was so refined that Shay didn’t even realize what had happened.
A true master’s technique spoke for itself—Ling Xiaoxiao’s binding skills had reached a level even the greatest assassins of the current era couldn’t hope to match.
Dragging both of them into Xueji’s bedroom, Ling Xiaoxiao secured her captives.
Xueji’s mouth was gagged, her eyes blindfolded, her entire body bound to a chair, utterly immobilized. Meanwhile, Shay continued to wriggle obliviously inside the sack in the corner, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding outside. It was clear that neither the rope nor the sack were ordinary items.
‘What kind of sane person refines a burlap sack and rope into magical artifacts?!’
Trembling instinctively, Xueji was engulfed in fear. Yet she didn’t struggle—forcing herself to stay calm.
Her gut told her that resistance would only make things worse.
Ling Xiaoxiao seemed pleased with Xueji’s reaction and removed the gag.
Xueji felt slender, delicate fingers cup her face, stroking her cheeks with surprising tenderness, like flowing water.
‘Ling Xiaoxiao… what are you trying to do?’
The answer came swiftly.
Those jade-like hands slid down to Xueji’s neck, fingers teasingly grazing her skin. Her heartbeat quickened, and she swallowed hard, unable to control her body’s reaction.
As if reading her mind, Ling Xiaoxiao leaned in closer, their breaths mingling—so close yet still untouchable.
The shameless teasing sent Xueji’s thoughts spiraling out of control. But with each provocation, she was reminded of a long-forgotten sensation from her past life as a man—the helpless frustration of being bullied.
Tears welled up unbidden—part frustration, part desire.
Caught between the two, Xueji’s body made the choice for her, leaning toward Ling Xiaoxiao.
“Xiao Ji… do you want it?” Ling Xiaoxiao whispered provocatively into her ear.
The warm breath against her skin sent a wave of heat through Xueji, shattering the last remnants of her rationality.
“Y-yes…” Xueji moaned breathily, her voice laced with seductive whimpers.
Finally, soft, wet lips met Xueji’s parched ones, their heated breaths intertwining, igniting the already charged atmosphere beyond control. Lost in each other, they drank deeply of one another’s essence.
Ling Xiaoxiao’s domineering kiss forced Xueji back, her thighs clamping together instinctively. Then, something even softer, even wetter, slipped past Xueji’s parted lips.
“Mmmph—!”
Their tongues tangled, entwining passionately as Xueji drowned in the sweetness of Ling Xiaoxiao’s taste. Her entire body tingled, her consciousness growing hazy.
The suffocating lack of air grew unbearable, and Xueji struggled—only to be met with an even fiercer retaliation.
Just as her fear of death peaked, Ling Xiaoxiao finally broke the kiss.
“Hahh… c-cough…!” Xueji gasped desperately for air.
Ling Xiaoxiao moved behind her, wrapping her arms tightly around Xueji’s body and burying her face against the nape of her neck, greedily inhaling her scent.
Haaah… haaah…
Their ragged breaths mirrored those of drowning survivors gasping for life.
Witnessing this side of Ling Xiaoxiao, an indescribable sorrow welled up in Xueji’s heart.
In the chaos, the blindfold slipped away. The sudden light left Xueji dazed.
For a moment, she saw Ling Xiaoxiao from a thousand years ago—those bright eyes brimming with obsession and desire.
Just like now, she had been bound, her pale blue ruqun torn, leaving her exposed.
[A-Ji, just look at me. You can only rely on me. I’m your only support.]
The Ling Xiaoxiao from her memories overlapped with the present one, even repeating the same words. This time, sorrow overwhelmed fear, and tears streamed freely down Xueji’s face.
Then, in her dazed state, another memory surfaced.
In the ruins left behind by the descent of the Demon God, she had rescued a dying fledgling—barely clinging to life.
Nursing the bird back to health, she had even used her own essence blood to awaken its dormant lineage.
“This is the last of the Chongming birds. Master… can I keep her?”
[She’s already tainted by the Demon God. And you—! Ah, why must you torture yourself like this?]
“I’ll bear all consequences alone.”
The scene shifted—she left the sect with the fledgling, secluding herself in a hidden sanctuary.
Before departing, her white-haired master had spat in frustration, “Go on, then! Raise a Demon God’s spawn! I’ll be here to collect your corpse!”
Master… you were all wrong.
The fledgling took human form—Ling Xiaoxiao as she was now. The two grew close, eventually becoming cultivation partners.
Before a small cottage, Xueji planted the only thing her master had left her—a seed of the Dao-Seeking Tree.
“When this tree grows as tall as you… I’ll return.”
Xueji then journeyed to the edges of the continent in search of a way to resist the Demon God.
By the time she returned to the cottage, her cultivation was gone.
Ling Xiaoxiao, who had waited all those years, cared for her tenderly—until she learned the truth about the Chongming bloodline.
After that, Xueji was imprisoned in that very cottage, subjected to Ling Xiaoxiao’s whims.
Her world shrank to the view outside the window—and the Dao-Seeking Tree.
[A-Ji, just look at me. You can only rely on me. I’m your only support.]
“Okay.”
Then, when the indescribable horror descended, Xueji spent her days gazing at that tree.
In the end, Ling Xiaoxiao cut it down—and Xueji perished.
The Dao-Seeking Tree fused with her soul, and a pale radiance from the west severed the world itself.