Liáng Xu and Fei Yan exchanged glances, each barely containing the turbulence clawing at their hearts. The very air near Shen Wuyin seemed to hum with mockery. And yet—he smiled. That same goofy, oblivious smile. Unbothered. Undeserved. Undeniably powerful.
"How are we going to kill him?" The thought bloomed in both minds at once, not whispered but thundered in silence. Shen Wuyin had taken everything.
Their master's respect—gone. Fairy Jin's affection—gone. The women of their harem—no longer theirs. They hadn't merely left. They had awakened. Each swore they had never truly loved Xu or Yan, that something unnatural had bound them. Now that spell was broken, and the lovers they'd once yearned for had already moved on—too wounded by betrayal to look back.
Those women, once devoted, now glared with scorn, hatred, and killing intent. They saw through the illusion. They saw the truth. And they hated Liáng Xu and Fei Yan forever warping their path.
Then came the memory: Lady Xuanhe. One of the legendary Six of Mìngjiè Xiānlù. Untouchable. Unshakable. And she had kissed Shen Wuyin—not playfully, not politically, but as if sealing a karmic seal destined long before either of them took their first breath. They used to laugh at Wuyin, mock his insignificance. Now, they felt the pressure of his presence—not just power, but inevitability.
He was handsome. Not cultivated or styled—his real face, unveiled, was simply more beautiful than either of them combined. His existence twisted the narrative. His smile redefined the centre. Before, they were everything. Now, they were noisy.
And Shen Wuyin? Still smiling.
Ren watched the two of them—Liáng Xu and Fei Yan—blundering through their humiliation with all the self-awareness of broken puppets. They were clueless. Utterly blind.
Their master still held some sliver of compassion for them. Even Ren's own master, Fairy Jin, hadn't fully turned her heart away. But that affection was buried now, dulled by disappointment and decay. Ren could see it. They could not.
And then came the voice.
Low, cold, ancient. Emperor's Shadow.
"Why aren't you killing them? Don't tell me you're keeping them alive because it's fun watching them screw up."
Ren didn't answer right away. He stared at their dimming karmic threads, curling faintly in the air like smoke.
"I suppose it's pity," Ren murmured. "But you're right. I should kill them. And I will."
A pause. The realm itself seemed to lean in.
"Just... not yet. It doesn't feel right."
"We strike when regret has ripened. When they truly grasp what they've lost. Not when they're confused—when they're broken."
A grin flickered across Ren's face. It wasn't goofy. It was patient.
"Then we kill them. Quietly. Without anger. Just... cold blood."
"Now you three—follow us," Lady Yueh commanded, her voice resonant with newfound power. "We have broken through. Higher realms await, and Lady Xuanhe has opened the gate for us."
They obeyed, not just because of cultivation rank, but because the air around her shimmered with something divine. The Glass Lotus Sect had changed—utterly. Lady Xuanhe's godly cultivation had rewritten its foundation, altered its rhythm, sanctified its soil. Every blossom now pulsed with her legacy.
Lady Yueh stepped forward. "We will seize what she has left for us. This is not a chance—it is a decree from the heavens."
Above, in the celestial canopy beyond sight or comprehension, the gods watched.
Their gazes were sharp, eternal, and measuring.
Lady Xuanhe stood among them. At her side: Master Zhaoyan, Meilan Yurei, Tenzin, Lord Yanxie. The legendary six of Mìngjiè Xiānlù.
"I can't believe you, Xuanhe," Lord Yanxie growled, barely containing his disdain. "You kissed him. You coddled him like a spoiled child. And now you wish to make him your disciple?"
Lady Xuanhe tilted her head, calm and radiant, her gaze resting far beyond Yanxie's anger. "What does it matter to you whom I kiss?" she said, voice cool as celestial marble. "We both know that handsome man is far more than he appears. I don't know where he came from—but he intrigues me deeply. I await the day he ascends. I want to see how heaven rearranges itself around him."
A ripple stirred the clouds.
Venya stepped forward then, her presence bending light itself. "He has that effect," she said softly. "On people. On fate. On worlds. He draws everything toward him—the centre of all movement, all meaning."
She paused, eyes alight. "Just like me."
Lord Yanxie's voice carved through the mists of Heaven:
"You're one of the new gods who ascended here in Heaven. Your name is Yūxiǎn Huīlìng. You know Shen Wuyin, don't you?"
"Of course I know him—how could I not? He is, after all, destined to be my husband."
Lady Xuanhe manifested in a veil of drifting lotus petals, her presence bending the air into a state of reverence.
"You're his fiancée?" she murmured, eyes narrowing with half-recognition and half-amusement. "Interesting…"
She stepped closer, voice deepening with ironic finality.
"Then I suppose you already know—he'll be my disciple in the future."
A pause. The heavens hiccuped.
"Of course I'm okay with it," Venya said softly, gaze unwavering. "He makes his own choices. He always has. And truly—no one can stop him."
As if her words brushed the weave of destiny, the realm shuddered.
From nowhere and everywhere, seven radiant figures stepped forth around her, their arrival echoing like a forgotten prophecy remembered. Time reeled. Narrative bent.
They were Eternal Empress Bai, Talia, Mariko, Cecilla, Stella, Yuki, and Sakura—each reborn, myth wearing a new name.
Venya's lips curled, almost amused. "His other wives and lovers," she said. "They're fine with it too."
Lady Xuanhe betrayed nothing in her expression. But her mind lingered on the kiss she'd given Shen Wuyin.
No wonder he was so skilled.
She wasn't surprised—just quietly, dryly impressed. That boy knew precisely how to draw women into his orbit. Not through artifice, but through that maddening, innate magnetism.
She thought of herself then. Of the certainty in his gaze, the heat behind his restraint. It seemed she, too, had fallen under the spell.