Chapter 77

#No Way Out

The time that followed felt both familiar and strange.

It was a time I had lived through, and yet also a time I had never experienced at all.

The death of the Head of Jingnan cleared Xie Zhuo’s name.

Queen Mother of the West merely said the Head of Jingnan had succumbed to qi deviation, making no mention of the demonic forces.

It was from that point on that Xie Zhuo began to frequently contact Qin Shuyan and helped Kunlun deal with the occasional demonic disturbances. Sometimes, he even left Kunlun.

And because of this, the demonic forces—or rather, the Evil God—came to know of “me.”

Qin Shuyan warned Xie Zhuo that it seemed the demonic creatures could still receive commands from the Evil God. The demonic aura across the land had also begun to faintly converge toward Kunlun.

Xie Zhuo didn’t say much to Qin Shuyan.

But from then on, Xie Zhuo began to frequently remind “me”—

Drink less wine…

Because wine dulled my senses and created openings for possession.

Eat less spicy food…

Because spiciness could mask the taste of poison, and it also stirred the emotions, which over time could disrupt the Dao heart.

He told me to take care of my health, to avoid falling ill—weakness and illness were vulnerabilities.

And also, to stay away from crowded places.

Even while training soldiers in the barracks, I had to be vigilant. Unless absolutely necessary, he would not leave my side…

All these things—meticulous and thorough—spoke only of worry.

And just like anyone else, at first, I thought Xie Zhuo was just caring for me. It felt sweet.

But later—after one year, two years, three years, ten years, fifty years—year after year, I began to feel controlled, and my patience for Xie Zhuo wore thin.

Especially as he still vanished from time to time, never offering a word of explanation to resolve our misunderstandings…

Dissatisfaction with him—and our marriage—began to creep in.

A hundred years after we married—

The demonic forces gathered outside Kunlun. As the Celestial Immortal in charge of Kunlun’s defense forces, I stood watch at the boundary barrier every day.

Xie Zhuo followed me daily, staying in the barracks. The soldiers joked about me, and I was indeed embarrassed.

In the end, I was captured by the demons.

Taken to their lair beyond Kunlun, I was injected with venom by the spider demon, wrapped in its silk, and hung upside down from the ceiling.

Then came the tale of how Xie Zhuo stormed the demon nest alone to save me.

I always believed that it was because he risked his life to save me that our marriage lasted the next four hundred years.

Yet in those four hundred years of “dying struggle,” our relationship became mechanical. Forget hugs—even hand-holding was rare enough to count on one hand.

But—

Now that I am in a soul-form, I finally realize: what Xie Zhuo hid from me far exceeded just matters concerning the demonic forces!

After he rescued me from the spider demon, nearly every night, Xie Zhuo appeared at my bedside.

Then—

He bit my neck.

He was drawing out the demonic aura from my body.

When I was asleep, completely unaware, he would lean close to my pulse with his cool lips and slowly siphon out the threads of demonic energy.

Sometimes after he finished, he’d gently pull up my blanket. Sometimes he’d stroke my hair. Sometimes…

He’d even sneak a light kiss between my brows…

Then stand there, cheeks flushed, dazed for a moment.

He’d just look at me, unmoving, until I turned in my sleep and smacked my lips, and only then would he quietly leave.

There was nothing more inappropriate—but even just these things were enough to make the current me, watching from the outside, flush and feel my heart race.

Xie Zhuo, you…

You hid things so well…

No wonder back then, in Undying City, your actions were so practiced.

But back then, “I” knew nothing of what he was doing.

“I” didn’t know about the nightly energy transfer, nor the battles he fought within and outside of Kunlun.

Didn’t know how many new scars he bore, nor how the accumulated demonic aura made him battle the Evil God every night in his dreams.

To me, Xie Zhuo was still frequently absent, and even when he returned, he offered no explanation.

We shared no affection—no kisses or embraces. To hear sweet words from him was impossible.

“I” found it increasingly unbearable to remain in a marriage that felt like widowhood.

In the last hundred years, we began to argue. Or rather, “I” argued.

In the last ten or so years, we even began to fight physically. Or rather, “I” struck him, and he simply dodged or held back my hands.

Then came the final time.

Xie Zhuo wouldn’t let “me” add spice to a dish.

“I” exploded with anger and attacked him. That time, I struck so fiercely that Buzhou Mountain shifted three degrees.

“I” held nothing back—Xie Zhuo could tell.

Hovering in the air, we faced each other. Buzhou Mountain had tilted, dust still rising. The haze swirled before us, just like our tangled marriage.

The look I gave Xie Zhuo held none of the warmth from five hundred years ago. I said:

“If you won’t agree to a divorce, then let’s both stop living this life altogether.”

Xie Zhuo looked at me, still silent.

Until the ruckus drew other immortals over, and we were taken to Kunlun’s Grand Hall.

Queen Mother of the West looked at us—this pair of “resentful spouses”—with helplessness. She rubbed her brow, her gaze resting on me briefly, before settling on Xie Zhuo.

“What do you think?”

Xie Zhuo glanced at her, then turned to “me.”

“I” was still fuming and refused to speak to him. Arms crossed, head turned, not giving him so much as a glance.

Xie Zhuo lowered his gaze, lashes casting triangular shadows under his eyes, hiding all his emotions.

But the tightly clenched fists at his sides betrayed the turmoil in his heart.

Which, at that time, “I” could no longer see.

Back then, I just thought he stood in silence for a long while.

Now, as I look at Xie Zhuo, I realize that during that silence, he was suffocating—his body almost devoid of any spiritual flow.

It was as if, in that breathless stillness, he walked through a long and agonizing path.

Then he finally spoke: “Alright…”

The hall erupted.

“I” turned and glanced at Xie Zhuo.

Then “I” looked no further, simply turned and walked out of the hall.

The wind that passed us ruffled his hair. He did not move.

At that time, all I knew was that Xie Zhuo had finally agreed to divorce me. But I didn’t know that after all the immortals had left the hall, he was still standing there alone.

In the vast hall, only Queen Mother of the West remained on her throne.

“You’re really going to divorce Jiuxia?” she asked. “This isn’t just out of anger?”

Xie Zhuo closed his eyes, dark shadows beneath them accentuating his pale face.

“She wasn’t speaking out of anger either.”

The Queen Mother fell silent and sighed deeply. “Jiuxia is not someone unreasonable, but these matters had to be kept from her. Over these many years, she—”

“I know,” Xie Zhuo cut her off, unwilling to hear more.

And the hall fell into silence.

“Xie Zhuo, are you alright?” the Queen Mother of the West asked softly, worried.

Xie Zhuo opened his eyes but didn’t answer her.

She waited for a while, then asked again, “You and Jiuxia have divorced. While severing ties in Kunlun is easy, your blood oath…”

Seeing the look on Xie Zhuo’s face, the Queen Mother didn’t continue and simply said, “Forget it. These matters should be handled by you. It’s not my place to interfere.”

She rose to leave. “But, regarding that one…”

Before she could finish, Xie Zhuo suddenly said, “I’m fine…”

The non sequitur caught the Queen Mother off guard.

Yet Xie Zhuo continued speaking, seemingly calm and composed: “These things had to be hidden from her. She made the decision with a clear mind. It should be this way. Five hundred years…”

The Queen Mother looked at Xie Zhuo—he was clearly speaking, but it was as if he had entirely lost the ability to communicate meaningfully. Her expression turned even more sympathetic.

“Xie Zhuo…”

She interrupted him.

Xie Zhuo finally looked up at her.

“You must stay clear-headed,” she said, her voice steady and devoid of emotion, as if deliberately stripping away all feeling. “What happens between you and Jiuxia is your decision. But beyond that, you must always remain clear-headed.”

At her words, Xie Zhuo fell silent.

He said nothing more and turned to leave the grand hall.

From that day on, Xie Zhuo and “I” never met again.

“I” moved into Mengmeng’s residence.

When Immortals divorce, Kunlun requires many formalities. From then on, our names would be permanently separated.

Half a month later, “I” would go with Xie Zhuo to the Temple of the Matchmaker, beneath the Lovesickness Tree, to cut the red string.

It was during this half month—

That I, now a soul wraith, finally left Xie Zhuo’s side and began hovering around “my” body.

Ready to make my move.

After all these years of waiting, finally, the day was near.

As long as I rammed into my own body before “I” cut the red string—killing the current soul inside and taking over the body—my mission would be complete.

To avoid placing all the pressure of success or failure on the final moment, I decided to act during this half month when Xie Zhuo and “I” were not meeting.

Even if I took the body half a month early, it wouldn’t matter anymore.

After so many years of Xie Zhuo battling the evil god and all kinds of malevolent spirits, his power had already reached its peak. This half a month wouldn’t make a difference.

After thousands of years of waiting and companionship, the moment of final victory or defeat had come!

During this half month, I must take the body—success is the only option.

Because—I have no way back.