Chapter 66

#Xie Zhuo

On the way to Que Mountain with Xie Zhuo, I mulled over the issue of the Evil God again and again. In the end, I decided—this wasn’t the time to tell Xie Zhuo or Lord God Ji about it.

First of all, when it comes to dealing with the Evil God, I truly cannot afford the consequences of failure.

Last time, after Xie Zhuo’s death, the Evil God returned. The gods gathered atop Kunlun, trying to imitate Xie Zhuo by drawing together all the evil energy in the world, but they failed. That was when Queen Mother of the West said: Only Xie Zhuo could truly contain it.

But the one they spoke of—was the Xie Zhuo from thousands of years in the future, the one who could wield the Pangu Axe even as a demon and tear open a tunnel through space-time.

The Xie Zhuo now may not yet have that ability, just like the other gods.

And if he fails—then there will truly be no Xie Zhuo left in this world.

Am I supposed to rely on the gods to send me back in time once more?

Secondly—I had selfish reasons.

Last time, Xie Zhuo sacrificed himself to kill the Evil God. This time, the best outcome would be that he destroys the Evil God and survives.

But if killing the Evil God must come at the cost of Xie Zhuo’s life…

Then I just wanted that moment to come a little later. A little later still.

At the very least, after he leaves that icy forest, let him feel the warmth of the mortal world again.

Let him not come as a shell and leave as a vessel.

If it must end like that—then fate has been too cruel to him.

Finally—the Evil God is cunning.

Just because the black-clad Xie Zhuo had impersonated Xie Xuanqing and fought him briefly, the Evil God realized the intruder was a future version of Xie Zhuo.

And from that moment on, the Evil God began preparing.

Which was how, even after Xie Zhuo killed him, he was still able to return to the world.

If I act rashly now, who knows what influence I might have on the past? I could alter the course of things, even make it worse…

After considering everything, I decided to bury it all deep in my heart.

Until… the moment when I part ways with Xie Zhuo.

Originally, the plan I made with the gods was to prevent that separation. Then, with the strongest version of Xie Zhuo and the assembled gods, we’d discuss how to slay the Evil God.

It was the most cautious plan—and the most reliable one.

So now, I’m not here to change history, or to push it forward. I’m just here to stay with Xie Zhuo. To walk with him through thousands of years, until we arrive at that fork in the road of destiny—where none of us has ever been.

I made up my mind—a resolve that might stretch across millennia.

I looked at Xie Zhuo walking beside me. Suddenly, a wave of emotion surged in my chest.

We’ve only been married for five hundred years. And yet now, in my heart, I’ve made a promise that might last for thousands.

I… after going through all of this—the separation, life and death, time and tide…

In the end, I found myself loving him even more.

When I first met him, I loved his looks and gentleness. When we married, I loved his protection and companionship.

Now, after all the tearing and breaking, I’ve seen his brokenness and fragility, his embarrassment and despair…

And only now—do I feel I’ve truly fallen in love with him.

All of him.

He held a little dog in his arms, calmly gazing ahead.

Unaware of the turmoil in my heart.

“Xie Zhuo,” I blurted his name out on impulse. “Can I hold you—”

He turned to me, puzzled.

Lord God Ji, walking ahead, also turned slightly to glance at me.

So I quickly added three more words: “—your dog?”

All my overflowing affection—I forced it back into my chest.

Honestly, it stung a little.

Lord God Ji turned his gaze away.

Xie Zhuo looked down at the little yellow dog in his arms and replied with three words, “He’s a wolf.”

I couldn’t take it. “He’s obviously a dog.”

I’m already a dog myself now—how can he be a wolf? I finally corrected the long-standing mistake I never had the chance to fix.

Xie Zhuo frowned, seeming displeased. “No. He’s the second Little Wolf.”

I had to call for backup. “Lord God, please—look at the one Xie Zhuo-gongzi is holding. Is it a wolf or a dog?”

To my surprise, Lord God Ji didn’t brush it off.

He walked over to Xie Zhuo with serious intent and said, “Excuse me.” With Xie Zhuo’s permission, he gently lifted the coarse cloth covering the little yellow dog and examined it closely.

“Two spots above the eyes, short tail, thick paws, sturdy build and full coat…”

I was speechless.

Wow… you really are a detail-oriented god. We’re just trying to tell if it’s a wolf or a dog…

“It’s a very fine puppy,” he concluded.

I looked at Xie Zhuo. “See? It really is a dog.”

At my words, Xie Zhuo stared at the little yellow dog in his arms and suddenly fell silent. His expression dimmed, as if he were a little… sad.

Seeing his face like that, I didn’t know what he was upset about, but my heart ached instinctively. I hurried to say, “Actually, there’s not that big a difference. Wolf or dog, it doesn’t matter. You can still call him Little Wolf if you like.”

“Xie Zhuo-gongzi,” Lord God Ji also noticed his mood and tried to comfort him, “This is a very common four-browed yellow dog in Northern Wilderness. Loyal and protective. Why dislike it?”

“I thought… it was one of my kind…” After a pause, he added, “Turns out… it stayed by my side only because it was born loyal.”

My lips pressed tight at his words.

Lord God Ji didn’t understand what he meant, but I did.

He wasn’t talking about this dog. He was talking about me—that limping mutt who’d stayed by his side for so many years.

He thought Little Wolf was the same as him, and had chosen to stay. But it turned out—it was just a loyal creature by nature. He believed he was special to Little Wolf, but now, that feeling of specialness had faded.

“Xie Zhuo…” I had just started to speak when the puppy in his arms suddenly perked its ears. It had been lounging comfortably, but now it pushed up on its front legs and stood up on his arm.

The little dog looked around, then suddenly stared in one direction and let out a bark—“Awoo!”

It grew excited, anxious, scrambling at Xie Zhuo’s arm.

So Xie Zhuo set it down.

And the moment he let go, the dog sprang off like a shot, all four legs flying as it bolted into the distance.

It ran toward a little girl being held by her mother.

“Awoo, awoo, awoo!” The joyful barks rang out, sounding especially distinct among the weary refugees.

The little girl heard and spotted the dog. She cried out in delight and ran forward, hugging the dog as it leapt into her arms.

It had found its lost owner.

Xie Zhuo stared in that direction, stunned.

I quickly said, “Dogs do choose, too!”

I looked at him with all the sincerity I could muster. “It must’ve been a special bond. Out of all the dogs, all the people—it found the one.”

Xie Zhuo was still quietly watching the dog running off, but something in what I said—some word or phrase—must have reached him.

He looked down at me.

This body is about the same height as my original celestial form. From this angle, it was just like when we married five hundred years ago.

I gazed at him, heart brimming.

“A special kind of fate…” he murmured the words, as though some understanding had begun to form within him.

“Just like how I met you—it must’ve been because of that special fate too,” I said softly.

Xie Zhuo simply looked at me, his gaze clear, the reflection of me vividly mirrored in his obsidian eyes.

He opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to say something…

“Lord Xie Zhuo, Lady Agou,” theMain God Ji interrupted us, “Que Mountain is just ahead.”

I glanced at theMain God with a hint of annoyance, only to see that he was studying me closely, his expression probing.

My heart sank. I had just gotten carried away.

If I wanted to keep my identity hidden, I had to hide it not just from Xie Zhuo, but from theMain God as well.

Though Xie Zhuo had been through so many tragic memories in that frozen forest, he still lacked experience in the ways of the world. He hadn’t yet seen the full complexity and contradictions of human nature. Fooling him, deceiving him, hiding the truth from him—it was still relatively easy. But theMain God Ji was another matter.

This was a man who, in the undying city, could continually find spirits whose souls matched their bodies. If he could empathize with others, he could surely read their hearts.

And now, at the very time and place where the evil energy was beginning to spread, my sudden strangeness was bound to catch his attention.

I quickly retracted the hostility I had shown him.

Forgive me, God Ji. This little immortal overstepped.

“These are unusual circumstances. Everyone entering Que Mountain must undergo inspection. I hope you’ll understand.”

Xie Zhuo didn’t say much. Seeing everyone else lining up, he quietly joined the queue.

I obediently lined up behind him.

Seeing me wait so patiently, theMain God finally eased his gaze and turned away, walking over to discuss matters with the guards on duty.

In the crowd, Xie Zhuo stood in front of me, and we moved forward quietly with the others.

He kept his eyes fixed ahead. I thought he wouldn’t turn around, wouldn’t speak to me again.

I was trying to think of something to say, anything to break the silence, when suddenly I heard him ask softly, “Is it because of a special kind of fate that I’ve met everyone I have?”

I didn’t know why he asked that, but I instinctively answered, “Of course…”

He said no more. I turned my head to look at him, only to see those clear eyes slowly scanning the people ahead of him—from the civilians, to the soldiers, to theMain God Ji—and finally turning back to fall quietly on my face.

He didn’t speak, but lowered his head and gently touched the stone at his neck.

I didn’t know what Xie Zhuo was thinking just then, but I felt, faintly, that his connection to this world had just deepened.

“Young master,” a guard at the city gate called out to Xie Zhuo, “Please, we need to register your name here.”

Xie Zhuo stepped forward.

“Your name, young master?”

“Xie Zhuo.”

The official stopped his brush and looked up. “Which characters are those?”

I darted forward, a little too rashly, a little too boldly, and snatched the brush right out of the official’s hand.

I wrote two characters in the ledger—謝濯.

Xie Zhuo turned to look at me.

The official and the guards scolded me at once. “Young lady, it’s not your turn yet!”

“Give back the brush! I asked him for his name—what business is it of yours?!”

I simply said, “I saw his eyes—so clear, like water that has been washed clean. I thought, surely that’s how his name should be written.” I looked at Xie Zhuo.

“Lord Xie Zhuo, did I write it right?”

Xie Zhuo was silent for a long time, as if weighing something, or perhaps feeling moved.

He reached out and gently touched the characters on the ledger. The ink hadn’t dried yet, and some stained his fingertips.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s right…”

A faint glimmer shone in his eyes, as if clear water had finally swept away the murk, revealing a bright and pristine moon.