“Oh? Is that so?”
Su Jinxue raised her eyebrows, the playfulness in her crimson eyes growing even more pronounced.
She gently flicked her fair, jade-like finger.
Hum—
A clear, resonant sword hum rang out from within his body without any warning!
In the next instant, a streak of light flew uncontrollably out of his dantian and hovered in midair.
The blade was long and narrow, pure white like fresh snow, reflecting a cold, moonlight-like glow under the dim light of the palace.
The handguard was simple and ancient without any complex patterns. Only at the end of the hilt hung a blood-red tassel, swaying gently as the spiritual sword trembled slightly.
This sword was none other than Zhang Mingyuan's natal spiritual sword, Zhanxue.
Zhang Mingyuan was completely dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg.
“Holy crap!”
Zhang Mingyuan cried out, trying to recall his sword, only to find that he couldn't do it at all.
Why?
Why would his natal spiritual sword, a blade connected to his very soul and nurtured for thousands of years, completely ignore his commands and instead behave like a lapdog, coming at the beck and call of this crazy woman, Su Jinxue?
This was absolute cuckoldry!
“So this is your ‘Zhanxue’?”
Su Jinxue curled her red lips. With a light tap of her finger, the Zhanxue Sword danced gracefully in the air, obediently following her movements.
Her eyes were filled with mockery. “And you said it wasn't a broken sword. It doesn't even listen to its own master.”
The Zhanxue Sword seemed to understand her mockery, immediately letting out a series of buzzing hums as if protesting vehemently.
However, Su Jinxue merely let out a cold snort, and an invisible, immortal pressure descended upon it.
The Zhanxue Sword's humming came to an abrupt halt. The blade trembled, its light dimming slightly as if it had been deeply wronged.
Watching this scene, Zhang Mingyuan felt an unspeakable sense of grievance rush straight to his head.
This feeling...
It felt as if his beloved wife was being toyed with right before his eyes by an atrocious villain.
And after the deed was done, that damn villain pointed at his nose, called his wife a faithless tramp, and used absolute power to ruthlessly suppress her.
Sob, sob, sob... This was total NTR!
“A warrior can be killed but not humiliated! Su Jinxue, you've gone too far!”
Zhang Mingyuan's face turned the color of pig liver, and his fists clenched tightly.
This damn woman!
He swore that if he ever achieved the Dao and ascended to immortality in the future, he would definitely toy with her Xiyue Sword just as ruthlessly!
Just as his anger reached a boiling point, the golden Heavenly Dao marriage certificate manifested in the hall once again.
A line of text slowly appeared.
【First Trial of the Heavenly Marriage: Concentric Lock. Progress: Sixty percent.】
Zhang Mingyuan was stunned.
He looked at Su Jinxue's face, which was still cold but now had a touch of life due to her recent playfulness.
Sixty percent...
This meant that everything Su Jinxue had just said was completely from the bottom of her heart.
The past she had buried deep in her heart, which she had never mentioned to him before...
Without him realizing it, the heavy snow that had been swirling outside the window for so long had finally stopped.
The dark clouds dispersed, and brilliant sunlight pierced through the cloud layer.
The sky after the snow was crystal clear, reflecting off the icy world outside and making it dazzlingly bright.
A ray of sunlight happened to squeeze through the window frame, falling upon Su Jinxue's fair and flawless cheek.
At this moment, that face seemed to surpass all the beautiful, snow-covered scenery outside.
Her crimson eyes no longer looked demonic in the sunlight; instead, they resembled two of the clearest rubies, sparkling with light.
Crimson eyes stained by blood...
So this was the origin of her eyes.
Zhang Mingyuan's heart softened inexplicably.
Now, it was his turn.
What should he say?
Should he talk about being a lonely soul from a foreign land?
Should he talk about how he had inexplicably transmigrated to this cultivation world where the strong preyed on the weak, and how just to stay alive, he had been hunted by countless damn humans and demon beasts, starving and freezing, forced to hide everywhere?
Should he talk about how he homesickly yearned for his family night and day, yet could never see them again?
He had been in this world for over five thousand three hundred years.
So long that he was almost unable to remember the faces of his parents, relatives, and friends.
They were clearly the most important people to him, so why was memory so ruthless, blurring and erasing their outlines bit by bit?
Whenever he thought of this, Zhang Mingyuan's heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand...
This time was no exception.
Two lines of clear tears slid down from the corners of his eyes.
He missed the taste of his mother's braised chicken wings, that perfect blend of sweet and savory that melted in the mouth;
He missed sitting on the balcony with his father, each of them holding a cigarette, listening to him boast about his wild youth;
He missed putting his arms around his bad-influence friends, shouting "Who else?!" in the internet cafe all night long...
But...
What did his mother's braised chicken wings actually taste like? Was it sweeter, or more savory?
What brand of cigarettes did his father like to smoke? What did the smoke taste like?
What was the name of the internet cafe he and his friends visited most often? What color was the sign at the entrance?
All of this... he could barely remember.
Five thousand years was too long. Long enough to flatten mountains and turn oceans into mulberry fields. Long enough to...
...completely erase all traces of a mortal's existence.
He didn't know why his nose stung, why his vision was blurring, or why his heart was filled with such sorrow.
He was clearly a Mahayana Stage cultivator who had severed his mortal ties and possessed a heart as solid as stone...
Tears dripped silently, sliding down his cheeks to the back of his hands, and then dripping from his fingertips onto the floor, blooming into tiny puddles.
Zhanxue curled up on the side of the tea table, even the tip of its blade drooping...
The entire world spun in Zhang Mingyuan's eyes. He lost his sense of space, and his mind reeled.
An uncontrollable surge of anger and resentment suddenly erupted from his chest!
Why?!
Why did he have to be inexplicably transmigrated to this world!
Why couldn't they even give him a proper farewell!
Why wasn't he allowed to see his family one last time before they passed away!
By what right?!
This fire in his heart instantly spread through his entire body, rushing straight into the depths of his soul!
Since everything most important to him in this world had long since departed, what was the point of cultivating this path of immortality?!
With this single thought, an inner demon was born within Zhang Mingyuan!
He wanted to wage war against heaven, to fight the injustice of fate!
Instantly, a terrifying aura erupted from his body.
A golden light soared into the sky from the crown of his head—a sign that a Mahayana cultivator's Dao Fruit was beginning to burn!
Boom—!
The entire Myriad Snow Palace trembled violently. The sky of the Xuanling Realm changed color, and countless laws of heaven and earth manifested. Zhang Mingyuan's entire body began to slowly float upward. However—
Just as his Dao Fruit was about to burn completely and become a sacrifice,
snow began to swirl and fall once more between heaven and earth.
This snow was entirely different from Su Jinxue's Frost Law.
It carried no coldness; instead, it possessed a familiar, gentle touch.
Each snowflake was so large and light, drifting down slowly.
Just like... the snow he used to look forward to every winter in the place where he lived as a child.
“Zhang Mingyuan, wake up.”
“Open your eyes and look at the place where you have lived for five thousand years.”
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