After Transmigrating, I Died of Depression Without My Phone - Chapter 86.1
Beiting Xue sat on the throne in the grand hall, listening as the people below discussed their plans. He seemed to be paying attention, but in reality, his mind was far away.
He stared ahead, but his eyes were unfocused, his thoughts drifting to a distant place.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before the noise below finally subsided. Countless pairs of eyes were now fixed on him. Beiting Xue refocused a small part of his attention on them, his gaze sweeping over the faces in the crowd, though he could barely remember who anyone was.
The only face he could remember was Lin Ziru from the Lihuo Immortal Sect, but she wasn’t among them.
Instead, Lihuo Immortal Sect had sent Yun Weiyu.
Their eyes met briefly, and Yun Weiyu bowed humbly. Beiting Xue had no interest in wasting time with such people.
“Your Majesty,” Sword Master Shuang Ran stepped forward, speaking on behalf of the group, “this is a matter concerning all living beings. What do you think should be done?”
So, they had been arguing all this time and still hadn’t reached a conclusion?
Beiting Xue slowly said, “You all seem rather anxious.”
The cultivators exchanged glances, their expressions asking, shouldn’t we be?
Beiting Xue sighed languidly, “The ones who should be anxious right now are the demons. What are you all worried about?”
He stood up, brushing his sleeves. “As long as the Xiangsi Sword stands in the sky, they won’t be able to break through. What’s there to fear?”
Just as he had helped the Northern Court Royal City hide in the past, Beiting Xue could not directly slay the monsters, but he could repel them, preventing them from invading as they pleased.
As long as they didn’t face each other head-on, they could maintain a temporary truce.
The crowd, influenced by Beiting Xue’s natural confidence, began to calm their previously frantic hearts.
Some still wanted to speak, but seeing Beiting Xue already turning away, they all swallowed their words.
The Northern Court had never been this lively before. No one who entered seemed to have any intention of leaving. After all, this was now the safest place in the world.
Wherever Beiting Xue went, the wandering spirits followed. This did nothing to lessen the gratitude of the cultivators under his protection.
Though they still didn’t dare approach him, they bowed respectfully from a distance, offering their thanks.
Compared to the Northern Court’s previous unchecked greed, these cultivators certainly knew how to show appreciation.
Beiting Xue descended the steps slowly, his luxurious robes slipping gracefully down with each movement. When he reached the last step, he spotted Long Xiang.
The nearby cultivators then witnessed a shocking sight—the usually composed and impenetrable King of the Northern Court suddenly froze in place.
He had been floating along, moving with a light and ethereal grace, as if he might ascend into the heavens at any moment. But now, he stood stiff and tense, like a boy seeing his crush for the first time.
Their eyes widened in curiosity, shifting their gaze to the person responsible for this transformation.
They saw Long Xiang casually leaning against her side, catching sight of Beiting Xue. She greeted him nonchalantly, explaining, “I just finished my practice, ate too much, and came out for a walk to digest. Are you done?”
She glanced at the cultivators, making them nervous, terrified that their gossiping might be noticed. With their heads lowered, they quickly made their exit.
Beiting Xue paused for a moment, then walked over to her.
“I…”
He had barely spoken a word when Long Xiang yawned.
“I’m tired and want to sleep for a bit. What about you?”
Beiting Xue blinked in confusion. Was she angry?
Was she subtly hinting that she didn’t want him to disturb her rest?
As he struggled with his thoughts, Long Xiang moved closer, yawning again. “If you’re not busy, come sleep with me.”
She glanced at the sky. “It doesn’t look like anything major will happen for a while, so why not get some rest?”
And just like that, Beiting Xue was pulled away by Long Xiang.
After so much time without a moment’s rest, even an immortal body would grow weary.
Sleeping was an effective way to relieve exhaustion.
Beiting Xue allowed himself to be led back to the small house they had returned to after so many trials.
It had been tidied up again and still felt just as small and cozy as before.
Lying on the bed, Beiting Xue was still trying to figure out how things had progressed to the point of them going to sleep together.
He had spent so long worrying that Long Xiang would be upset or sad because he left her earlier.
Now, seeing that she was perfectly fine—and had fallen asleep so quickly—her carefree attitude towards everything, taking life as it came, made him more anxious than seeing her upset.
He was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. He lay there, functioning as nothing more than a cooling pillow for Long Xiang, not moving an inch no matter how much she fidgeted or shifted around.
He even consciously relaxed his muscles, making himself softer and more comfortable for her.
After some time had passed, Beiting Xue suddenly spoke. “Long Xiang.”
He didn’t expect a response, thinking she had already fallen into a deep sleep. But a second later, she murmured drowsily, “Hmm?”
Even in her sleep, she still remembered to respond to him.
This made Beiting Xue feel much better. He turned on his side and pulled her gently into his arms, whispering softly, “Marry me.”
Even in her half-asleep state, those words jolted Long Xiang fully awake.
“Huh?” She blinked hard, her voice thick with the sound of waking. “What did you say?”
Beiting Xue propped himself up, looking down at her. “Marry me.”
This time, Long Xiang was sure she hadn’t misheard.
It seemed she had never seriously thought about this before.
She had almost married him once—right before she died.
The wedding had already been prepared. Even now, the red silk and lanterns decorated with the character for “joy” still hung in place, untouched.
In the dark night, with the eerie red decorations and the drifting souls around the Northern Court Royal City, the place had an unsettling, ghostly air.
Long Xiang lowered her gaze slightly, not saying a word, her expression seemingly reluctant.
Beiting Xue couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed her earlobe. Long Xiang shuddered, her hand instinctively pushing against his chest, trying to get him off her. But he pressed down more firmly, his kisses trailing lower.
“I can’t think with you doing this.”
Long Xiang couldn’t take it anymore. She half-laughed, half-choked as she said, “Stop it. Don’t… not there.”
She thought it was off-limits, but Beiting Xue disagreed.
Stubbornly, he insisted on serving her in every way he could.
Long Xiang stared at him, dazed, watching as he unceremoniously undressed himself. His long, dark hair was tied up with a jade pin, ensuring not a single strand fell out of place.
“Really, you can’t.”
Long Xiang struggled against him, feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible.
It was maddening.
She widened her eyes and glared at him, her hand tangling in his hair. Without realizing it, she tugged the jade pin free.
His long, silky black hair spilled through her fingers, flowing like a waterfall of darkness.
Long Xiang took a deep breath, tilting her head back and closing her eyes, whispering, “If you keep this up, how am I supposed to decide what kind of wedding dress I want?”
Beiting Xue’s entire body stiffened, and then he became even more intense.
Long Xiang closed her eyes and fell silent, surrendering to the moment.
Their “commotion” lasted deep into the night. The sky outside was pitch-black, devoid of any light. Yet, within the Northern Court Royal City, red candles burned brightly. Their king had summoned all the royals and cultivators in the middle of the night, looking more energetic than he had during the day’s discussions—almost exuberant.
Naturally, they assumed there would be some good news, or perhaps a new strategy for dealing with the monsters.
Could it be that they had captured the Demon Lord?
To their shock, what they heard was that their king was getting married, and they were all ordered to leave.
“No one is needed here,” Beiting Xue said. “Leave the city immediately. No one is allowed to enter without my summons.”
Everyone was dumbfounded.
“Your Majesty,” one of the senior royals knelt and spoke, “we have lived here for generations. How can we leave? And for such a grand ceremony, it should be us preparing everything. How could we let you exhaust yourself?”
Those royals who had survived were either those who had opposed Beiting Changyuan’s rule or had been marginalized in the previous power struggles. Now that they were finally valued and had a worthy ruler, they were unwilling to leave the Northern Court so easily.
But Beiting Xue had made up his mind.
“This wedding will be prepared by me, personally. I need no one’s interference.”
The first time he was supposed to marry Long Xiang, it was all arranged by Changqin Yin, but it had ultimately come to nothing.