Great Demon - Chapter 92 Part 2

Changying lifted her gaze and saw the black ink forming words before her eyes.

In just a few hundred characters, Hua Lingjun’s three lifetimes were recorded in full detail—one life as an immortal, another as a wandering swordsman, and his current life as the eldest son of a noble family in the Mortal Realm. However, his life as a young master was far from easy; he was even bullied by his father’s concubine.

He was not yet sixteen in this lifetime, still quite young. If the Book of Fate was correct, the next thirty years of his life would not be much better—full of hardships and wandering, only to meet his end in a landslide.

Yet, nowhere in the record did it mention any celestial law he had broken. It only noted the years he lived as an immortal and the time he was banished.

“That’s enough,” Changying said coldly.

The Fate Keeper put away the Book of Fate, shaking his head. “It’s a pity Hua Lingjun has already reincarnated twice. He likely remembers nothing of his past. Instead of seeking him out, Your Divinity, you might be better off asking the Heavenly Emperor.”

Changying lowered her eyes in thought. She had memorized the names of the other eleven immortals. Excluding Xuanqing, ten remained.

After a moment of contemplation, the Fate Keeper added, “Your Divinity, after Hua Lingjun emerged from the Turbid Mirror, he was quickly banished for secretly consorting with a mortal. But someone like him… would he really fall in love so easily? Moreover, he spent most of his time training on Mount Kun, rarely descending to the human world.”

“Who presided over his trial?” Changying asked.

“It was…” The Fate Keeper suddenly hesitated, looking troubled.

“Xuanqing.” Changying immediately understood.

The Fate Keeper quickly lowered his head. Though he did not nod, he did not deny it either.

Changying’s expression was stern as she glanced once more at the towering pile of life lamps. “What I have told you—do not speak of it to anyone.”

The Fate Keeper cupped his hands in response. “Not a single word will leave my lips.”

Slowly, he lifted his eyes, trying to read the Divine Venerable’s expression. Yet, he dared not look for too long, fearing that her gaze was so intense it might burn him blind. After careful consideration, he said, “The matter of Hua Lingjun has weighed on my mind as well. He was only convicted after emerging from the Turbid Mirror, so whatever happened within must be connected. After he came out, he briefly met with the Phoenix Lord. Your Divinity, perhaps you could… ask the Phoenix Lord.”

Having said that, he immediately sealed his lips shut. He knew that with the qingluan’s ascension to a phoenix, Yunshuo’s replacement was already set in stone. Still, he hoped to use this as a chance to win Yunshuo a sliver of hope.

Changying seemed to see right through his thoughts. Her voice turned cold. “Even if he reveals everything that happened within the Turbid Mirror, Mount Danxue will still change hands. No matter who forced him to bear this burden, a mistake is still a mistake.”

The Fate Keeper closed his eyes tightly. “Your Divinity is absolutely right. In that case, it would be best to ask the Heavenly Emperor. Aside from him, only the remaining ten immortals know the details.”

“The remaining ten?” Changying shook her head slightly, her voice calm. “If they were allowed to stay, it must not have been so simple.”

With a plan forming in her mind, she lifted her head once more. Her sharp eyes met the dazzling red sun above, and with a swift wave of her hand, she reinforced the barrier, strengthening it further.

She had originally come to find the one who had tampered with the barrier. However, the billowing black smoke was so suffocating that it had completely masked the already faint traces of the culprit’s presence, making it impossible for her to track them down.

The Fate Keeper bent at the waist, lowering his gaze. From the corner of his eye, he could only see Changying’s dark silk robe. The golden ornaments at her waist swayed slightly as if she was turning to leave, and the white jade pendants at her waist jingled softly with her movement.

In an instant, the hem of her trailing robes vanished. Alarmed, the Fate Keeper lifted his head hastily, only to see the Divine Venerable shift into her true form and rush toward the main hall. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

***

Inside the main hall, Xuanqing sat upright, a composed figure before the wooden desk, where stacks of reports from various immortals were neatly arranged.

Aside from him, the vast hall was empty. With his eyes shut, he remained motionless for a long time, as if meditating—or perhaps waiting for someone.

It was only when the doors suddenly swung open that he abruptly opened his eyes.

Changying stepped inside and greeted him in an even tone, “Heavenly Emperor.”

Xuanqing did not rise to welcome her. Instead, he lifted an arm and gestured toward an empty seat at his side. “Your Divinity, please sit.”

Changying walked over but did not sit where he indicated. Instead, she chose a different seat. Sweeping her hair back from her face, she said, “Heavenly Emperor, are you aware that the Observatory Pavilion caught fire?”

“This fire came under strange circumstances.” Xuanqing sighed.

“It wasn’t strange at all.” Changying’s gaze swept across the hall. The magpie immortals and heavenly soldiers who had been present at the pavilion earlier were nowhere to be seen. Unsure if they had reported the incident, she added, “The barrier was simply damaged. I have reinforced it.”

“You have gone to great lengths, Your Divinity,” Xuanqing said.

“I did not come here just for the Observatory Pavilion,” Changying stated, staring directly at him.

Xuanqing stiffened slightly. He adjusted the memorials before him, shifting them to the corner of the desk, and asked, “Could it be that Your Divinity still has doubts about what happened in the Turbid Mirror two hundred years ago?”

“Indeed.” Seeing that he did not seem inclined to conceal the matter, Changying got straight to the point. “What mistake did you make in the Turbid Mirror?”

Xuanqing lifted his gaze, his eyes passing over Changying as he looked toward a certain spot in the main hall. His expression remained composed, his voice steady. “Since it was a mistake, it should not be mentioned again, lest it give rise to a heart devil.”

“You have a heart devil?” Changying stood and reached out toward him.

Xuanqing did not evade her. Instead, he picked up a memorial and used it to block her hand. “Not yet, but if the matter is brought up, it will be unavoidable. And when that time comes, the Nine Heavens will surely fall into chaos.”

Changying’s gaze darkened. Slowly, she withdrew her slender, jade-like hand. Studying Xuanqing carefully, she asked, “If it is something that must not be spoken of, then why did the Heavenly Emperor tell me about it?”

“Even if I didn’t mention it, Your Divinity would have asked.” Xuanqing’s tone was unhurried. “However, as for the specifics, the Divine Venerable will have to uncover them yourself.” After saying this, he once again curved his lips into a faint smile and asked, “Would Your Divinity care to try the new tea I received today?”

“No need.” Changying sat down once more, tapping her fingers lightly on the armrest. “Then I will not ask about the events within the Turbid Mirror.”

Xuanqing poured himself a cup of tea and placed another in front of Changying.

“Was it you who personally tried Hua Lingjun for violating celestial law?” Changying’s voice turned icy.

“That’s correct,” Xuanqing answered decisively.

“Why did you exile him to the Mortal Realm?” Changying did not bother with pretense, her question blunt.

Xuanqing chuckled. “He saw the mistake I committed. If he was not banished, his only fate was death.” He spoke with unsettling calm, as if a life—his life—was of no consequence to him.

Changying suddenly reached out toward Xuanqing again.

Xuanqing’s expression turned severe, his voice sinking. “Your Divinity.”

Changying paused, her expression icy as she studied him. Through Xuanqing’s eerily steady gaze, she at least confirmed one thing—he did not want Hua Lingjun to die.

“Farewell.”

The hall doors suddenly burst open as a fierce wind roared through. The Obsidian Dragon shot forth, its thunderous cry shaking the very foundations of the palace. The immense pressure sent the celestial attendants outside sprawling to the ground.

As the dragon’s massive form twisted and vanished into the distance, its golden eyes gleamed with icy resolve.

Inwardly, Changying thought, This matter concerning Hua Lingjun must be relayed to Zhuyou. Her golden pupils suddenly shut, and her consciousness shifted, returning to a single wisp of divine sense within Shangxi City.

***

In Shangxi City, Zhuyou paced restlessly inside the room. Even though her robe was already neatly arranged, she smoothed it over again and again. The scent of incense in the air grew more unpleasant the more she smelled it, and with a wave of her hand, she extinguished the incense burning in the censer.

The last wisp of smoke curled into the air before vanishing completely.

She found the scroll an eyesore, yet she was genuinely curious about what kind of improper things Changying had been learning. Enduring the unease in her heart, she slowly unfurled the scroll.

As soon as she opened a corner, she was met with an image of two unclothed figures—two women, no less. Their garments were half undone, their entwined posture utterly strange and far from comfortable by any standard.

Zhuyou suddenly hesitated, wondering—could this truly, truly be feasible…?

Her thoughts drifted at once, and the faceless women in the painting seemed to take on features—one was Changying, and the other was herself…

The scroll, only just unrolled, was immediately snapped shut and even tumbled onto the floor with a dull thud.

Zhuyou stood up and pushed the door open, leaving without a moment’s hesitation. As soon as she stepped outside, a face peeked up from the bottom of the stairs—graceful despite age, unmistakably Huoshu.

Huoshu asked sheepishly, “Your Grace, is the room not to your liking? We have plenty of vacant ones in Jianxiang Pavilion, all freshly cleaned!”

“No need,” Zhuyou replied hastily, striding away. In the blink of an eye, she had returned to the glacier formed from dragon breath.

The icy expanse was bone-chilling, utterly devoid of even the smallest demons or spirits—none dared approach this place.

Zhuyou perched on the frozen eaves of a building, lowering her gaze to the bustling streets below. Yet, after sitting for some time, something still felt amiss. She pondered over it but couldn’t quite grasp why she had chosen to sit atop dragon breath, immersing herself in the scent of that four-legged creature.

Her palm, resting on the ice, suddenly tingled—as if something was brushing against it. The touch was as light as a feather, making her instinctively curl her fingers inward.

Yet, the ice beneath her hand remained solid, with no sign of melting. Surely, she hadn’t developed an itch in her palm?

Feeling perplexed, Zhuyou spread her palm open again—only to feel another soft scratch against it.

Changying!

That dragon really had nothing better to do. Now she was even teasing her.

She intended to withdraw her hand, but suddenly, she realized—Changying was writing in her palm, stroke by deliberate stroke. Despite the ice’s biting cold, her palm inexplicably grew warm.

With each stroke that Changying traced, the heat in her palm intensified.

A tingling sensation crawled up her arm, reaching her heart, nearly making her clench her fingers shut.

“Hua Lingjun, Changmíng City, Qiaomu Manor, Qiao Fengsheng.”

Zhuyou bit her lip, abruptly snapping back to reality—was this the exiled crane immortal?

Changying’s spirit sense had yet to manifest in physical form, yet it drifted behind her, whispering into her ear, “Why did you leave Jianxiang Pavilion so soon? Did you at least bring the books Huoshu gave you?”

Speechless, it took Zhuyou a moment to return to her senses. “… I did not.”

Changying sighed in regret, replying in a calm voice, “I hadn’t finished reading them yet.”