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As the morning light pierced through the intricately carved window lattice, the last drop of medicinal essence formed an ice bead along Xuan Yu's hem.
I knelt on the Jade Couch, my fingertips unconsciously brushing against the red marks left by the mandarin ducks from last night, where the skin still tingled with the lingering essence of Xuan Shuang.
"Young Mistress, Immortal Sovereign has been waiting outside for half a tea's time," the sword-wielding attendant announced as he entered, carrying a gilded warming stove that brought with it a swirl of cold fragrance from Apricot Grove.
The stove's lid was adorned with the totem of a nine-tailed fox, beloved by Wang Xuan. I stared into its elongated beastly eyes, suddenly reminded of the blood-stained Laurel from last night's Lingyin lamp.
Xuan Yu stepped in, treading on the shattered ice scattered across the floor. His wide sleeves brushed against the hanging "Compendium of Herbs" on the screen, a fragment he had repaired for me three hundred years ago.
At this moment, his spiritual pressure felt unusually stagnant, even the silver strands falling from his hair lost their usual luster.
" Xuan Shuang Marrow nurtured for three days can equal a hundred years of cultivation," he said, placing an ice crystal on the low table adorned with intertwined lotus patterns. The Frost Flower blossomed along the crystal's surface in patterns resembling the seven stars of Beidou—exactly mirroring the trajectory of the spiritual fish from last night's medicinal essence.
I focused on his left hand curled within his sleeve; there was an old crescent-shaped scar at the tiger's mouth where he had been cut by shards of Xuan Ling jade long ago, now reddening again.
Suddenly, fine cracks erupted in my tea cup, and the emerald tea swirled into a shape resembling a Xuanjie star map on the table.
The winding Xuan Shuang Footprints I had glimpsed in the celestial mirror last night resurfaced before my eyes. I seemed to see again that snowy night in the library three hundred years ago when sixteen-year-old Xuan Yu hid his bloodied fingertip behind "Essentials of Spiritual Pivot," using Xuan Shuang's essence to mend my spiritual veins torn by forbidden techniques.
"The nine-tailed warming stove from Miss Wang is indeed considerate." I gathered my slipping silk shawl; as my spirit butterfly brushed against Xuan Yu's Xuan Ling essence, it instantly transformed into falling ice crystals.
Last night’s crack in his life sword still weighed heavily on my mind; at this moment, however, the mandarin duck clasp on my wrist emitted a faint hum that resonated oddly with the flickering Foxfire above the warming stove.
Xuan Yu suddenly reached out to brush away the ice crystals from my temple; this gesture made memories of the Laurel tree surge uncontrollably within my spirit platform.
Three hundred years ago, when I shielded Yang Lin from the heavenly punishment thunderstorm, that Laurel in Xuanjie Forbidden Land had also bloomed suddenly with bloodied flower buds.
And at this moment, as his fingertip grazed my earlobe, silver patterns at the bottom of the medicinal essence ignited at Dantian.
"Xuan Shuang jade needs to be refined with heart's blood," he said, lightly tapping on the table; suddenly, Beidou patterns reversed into seals for binding souls.
I gazed at the swirling silver threads within the ice crystal and recalled how those shards of Xuan Ling jade had embedded themselves into his palm during last night's formation activation—remnants stained with his blood from when he repaired "Compendium of Herbs."
Outside, I heard the brittle sound of snow-laden branches snapping as three hundred apricot trees swayed simultaneously.
The footprints formed by Xuan Shuang were drawing closer along my personally planted flower grove, each step precisely landing on defensive array points laid down long ago.
Xuan Yu's silver strands suddenly wrapped around my wrist as I attempted to form a seal; shards of Xuan Ling jade slipped from his sleeve and cut into my fingertip. The moment a Blood Pearl fell into my tea, shards of the celestial mirror above emitted a sharp buzzing sound.
"Tomorrow at Mao time three-quarters, bring Jade Agate to Linghuan Xian Pavilion," he said as he stood up; his movement caused some Foxfire to splash from the warming stove onto "Compendium of Herbs," scorching it with blackened cracks.
I stared at the melting ice crystals on the table and suddenly saw clearly within their depths sealed a single Laurel leaf—the vein patterns perfectly aligned with those bloodstains in Yang Lin’s Lingyin lamp.
As the last trace of Xuan Ling essence dissipated into the morning mist, reflections of cracks in Xuan Yu's life sword appeared in the medicinal essence.
Those web-like patterns spread along the silver chain of my mandarin duck clasp while within the ice crystal, traces resembling Beidou's seven stars had somehow transformed into a sacrificial array diagram reversing Heart Devouring Seal.
The ice crystal transformed into a pool of Han Tan, and as the Beidou patterns flowed, several strands of blood seeped out. I gathered the Xuan Shuang energy that was about to overflow from my fingers, listening to the sound of snow falling from the three hundred miles of Apricot Grove outside the window. When Xuanjade turned around, the silver threads brushed over the melted Frost Flower on the table, and the cold air that should have dissipated suddenly took on the shape of the shattered jade fragment that had pierced my Heart three years ago when he shielded me from the Heavenly Punishment.
"Can the countless heavenly books of Linghuan Xian Pavilion truly unravel the Heart Devouring Seal?" My fingertip grazed the raised Laurel leaf pattern on the surface of the ice crystal, and I suddenly noticed that this silver-white hue contained specks of Cinnabar—just like the bloodstains left in the pages of the Herbal Classic when Yang Lin was burned by Xuan Shuang years ago.
Xuanjade's life sword buzzed on the beam, and those spiderweb cracks quietly climbed up his flowing sleeves along with the charred remnants of the Herbal Classic on the screen. "This item needs to be refined with He Huan Lotus." As he pushed a Liuli Bottle containing He Huan Lotus seeds to the edge of the table, his sleeve's Xuan Shuang pattern overlapped with the fox tail totem on the warm stove.
The bottle reflected the fine cracks in my wrist's mandarin duck clasp, and those Blood Pearls seeping through the silver chain gaps resonated with Blood Amber that hung from Wang Xuan's earrings in last night's celestial mirror. Suddenly, the tea boiled over like rolling thunder, and Xuanjie’s star map twisted into a soul-locking formation at the table's center.
I stared at the ice bell tied to a silver thread at Xuanjade's hair, inside which were sealed three strands of blue silk—clearly remnants of my hair severed by jade three hundred years ago. At this moment, the ice bell danced with the flickering Foxfire from the warm stove, refracting a blood-colored halo in the morning light.
" Immortal Sovereign might as well keep He Huan Lotus to save Miss Wang's fox tail." I flicked the ice crystal back to his chest; as Xuan Shuang energy tore through my gauzy robe, three hundred miles of Apricot Grove erupted with a crisp sound of shattering ice. The defensive formations I had set up back then began to bloom with spiderweb-like cracks along Wang Xuan's and Xuan Shuang's footprints.
Xuanjade suddenly crushed the Liuli Bottle; at that moment when lotus seeds fell to the ground, a booming sound echoed from Linghuan Xian Pavilion. The mandarin duck clasp on my wrist shattered in response, and fragments of silver chains pierced into my Palm with such pain that it conjured memories of him kneeling in Xuanjie Forbidden Land, using his bloodied fingertip to mend my spiritual veins while hiding half a broken armor behind "Essentials of Spiritual Pivot."
"We'll miss it if we don't leave by Mao time." He swept his wide sleeves, summoning a gust of Xuanling hurricane that ground lotus seeds into crimson powder across the floor. I gazed at the blood mist drifting before me and suddenly realized that each speck of dust bore engravings of an inverted Heart Devouring Curse—matching perfectly with last night's sacrificial formation revealed at the bottom of the medicinal spring, which could piece together half a soul-locking incantation.
As morning mist was shattered by Linghuan Xian Pavilion's bell tolls, I crushed remnants of a sound-nurturing lamp that had been warmed for three hundred years hidden in my sleeve. Those silver chain fragments embedded in flesh transformed into thorny Laurel Branches, piercing through my blood vessels towards Dantian where Xuan Shuang Marrow pulsed.
The cracks in Xuanjade's life sword had spread to where Ice Soul Pearl was embedded in its hilt, and as he turned around, falling ice crystals pieced together Yang Lin’s fragmented soul shadow torn apart by Xuanling hurricane years ago.
"Young Mistress!" The sword attendant burst through the door with a new warm stove; within his nine-tailed fox totem pupils lay embedded Ice Amber reflecting faint traces of a soul-locking curse emerging from Xuanjade’s nape. I focused on the Blood Pearl seeping from his crescent scar on his palm and suddenly recalled that snowy night three hundred years ago when Young Immortal Lord pressed blood-stained pages of Herbal Classic against my Heart; even then, Xuan Shuang energy carried this sweet yet rusty scent.
At that moment when the ice crystal completely melted away, Seven-Colored Radiance rose from Linghuan Xian Pavilion.
I held the "Separation Immortal Book" that unfurled automatically from my sleeve, watching as the Xuan Shuang Marrow formed a pen tip at Palm. At the end of the Xuanjade silver thread, half an ice bell suddenly fell, within which flowed silver strands that were clearly the soul threads that had escaped from his life sword's crack last night.
When the first ray of Rosy Glow pierced through the Icicle Window Lattice, the tea stains on the table suddenly solidified into a Blood Contract document. I gazed at my reflection in the tea, realizing that the blood mole on my Glabella had transformed into the final focal point of the soul-locking array—perfectly complementing the flickering azure flame in the Foxglare furnace, forming a closed circuit for the sacrificial ritual.
As the ice crystal pen tip hovered three inches above the Blood Contract, the Xuanjade silver thread suddenly wrapped around my Wrist. His Fingertip Xuan Shuang energy burned painfully, and the Blood Pearl seeping from my palm flowed back into my meridians along the patterns of Beidou on the pen shaft.
"Are you planning to rewrite the Fate Pattern using the myriad volumes of heavenly books from Linghuan Xian Pavilion?" His voice carried an energy like Shattered Ice, causing the tea stains on the table to tremble violently.
I looked at his dark pattern torn by fragments of Xuanling jade at his collar, where flowing silver threads overlapped with the Cinnabar Seal of the Separation Immortal Book in my sleeve, forming a bizarre totem—reminiscent of the Scorch Mark left by the heavenly tribulation on Zhu Xian Platform three hundred years ago.
Outside, a sudden crack echoed as if an Icicle had exploded, and cracks in three hundred defensive arrays snaked along the Wang Xuan footprints left last night. The cold air from Xuanjade's wide sleeves overturned the gilded warm furnace. When the nine-tailed fox totem shattered against the ice crystal floor, the splattered Foxfire suddenly solidified into the shape of a Blood Amber earring dangling from Wang Xuan.
"When you shielded Yang Lin from lightning tribulations back then, did you ever think about rewriting the Fate Pattern?" His question made my life sword hanging from the beam emit a piercing shriek, and the energy of Xuan Shuang sealed within the sword's handle surged into my Dantian.
I stared at the soul-locking spell appearing on his nape; those dark red patterns were merging with the fox tail totem on fragments of the warm furnace to form a complete sacrificial array—identical to that which had emerged at the bottom of last night's medicinal spring.
The Separation Immortal Book suddenly ignited in my palm, its Cinnabar characters corroded into a charred black. I crushed the last half piece of sound-congealing lamp page in my sleeve, and amidst flying ice crystals, an image of a snowy night in the library from three hundred years ago suddenly reflected.
At sixteen, Xuanjade knelt before a tattered volume of "Bencao Jing," using his bloodied fingertip to pierce a fragment of Xuanling jade into my heart, repairing my spiritual veins damaged by forbidden technique backlash.
" Immortal Sovereign, why not first unlock the heart-devouring seal of our mandarin duck clasp?" I flicked away the silver thread entangled around my wrist; those ice crystal threads suddenly transformed into thorny Laurel Branches.
The crescent scar on Xuanjade's tiger mouth split open in response, and as a blood pearl seeped onto the Separation Immortal Book, a seven-colored radiance from Linghuan Xian Pavilion suddenly twisted into a focal point for the soul-locking array.
He abruptly grasped my hand that was about to form a seal; his energy of Xuan Shuang penetrated into my spiritual platform through our touching skin. Within those chilling breaths was an unexpected warmth reminiscent of three hundred years ago during the heavenly tribulation against immortals.
I watched as an ice bell swayed at the end of his silver thread in his hair; three strands of azure silk sealed within it suddenly surged forth, entwining us in a posture reminiscent of when we cultivated together in the Xuanjie Forbidden Land.
"Do you think that Wang Xuan's nine-tailed warm furnace appeared in our wedding chamber by coincidence?"
Xuanjade suddenly crushed the Liuli Bottle on the table, the scarlet powder of the Hehuan Lotus Seeds coalescing into a reversed Heart Devouring Curse amidst the Xuanling hurricane. A crack in the mandarin duck clasp on my wrist began to seep Blood Pearls, and the shards of silver chains dug painfully into my palm, revealing the Blood Amber that had fallen from Wang Xuan's earring in last night's Celestial Mirror—each speck of dust inscribed with fragments of the Soul Locking Secret.
The chime of Linghuan Xian Pavilion pierced through the Icicle Window Lattice as a page from the Baicao Jing suddenly unfurled from my sleeve. The Ink Sigil, soaked in his blood years ago, began to emit a dark red glow, overlapping with the Cinnabar Seal on the separated celestial book to form a complete sacrificial array.
The crack in Xuanjade's life sword had spread to the hilt, and the Xuan Shuang energy sealed within the Ice Soul Pearl was creeping along the silver threads towards his heart. "Young Mistress! The Guiding Radiance of the Celestial Pavilion is about to dissipate!"
As the Sword Servant burst through the door, fragments of Wang Xuan's beloved nine-tailed heater suddenly floated in mid-air. The Blood Amber formed from Foxfire refracted strange images in the morning light—three hundred laurel trees were blooming with bloodied Flower Buds in the Xuanjie Forbidden Land, each petal etched with reversed Heart Devouring Curse patterns.
I broke free from Xuanjade's restraints and slammed the separated celestial book onto the table. The icy crystal tip pierced my fingertip, and at that moment, the entire palace's defensive array let out a mournful wail. The spirit patterns I had personally laid down years ago began to crack along Wang Xuan's Xuan Shuang Footprints, each fissure oozing a rust-tinged aura of Xuanling.
"The word Fulfillment, Immortal Sovereign should understand its meaning better than I."
As the last Cinnabar Seal merged into the Blood Contract document, the sound of bells and chimes from Linghuan Xian Pavilion suddenly exploded in my ear. The Xuan Shuang hurricane stirred up by Xuanjade swept away fragments of gilded heaters into powder; within that dust of Blood Amber formed from Foxfire, strands of azure silk severed by Xuanling jade three hundred years ago were growing wildly, entwining us as we faced tribulations together on the Execution Platform.
The icy crystal tip scorched a mark on the Blood Contract document as I heard my wrist bone crack with tiny fractures. The grip of Xuanjade around my wrist was nearly crushing my Xuan Shuang Marrow; his silver threads soaked in blood intertwined with the Cinnabar Seal of the separated celestial book into chains, winding thorny patterns across the table.
"After three hundred years, do you still think I married you for the Soul Locking Array?"
His question, wrapped in Xuan Shuang energy, crashed into my spiritual platform, deepening the cracks in my life sword hanging above. I gazed at the Blood Pearls splattered on the pages of Baicao Jing; those dark red traces were tracing along the ink marks I had repaired long ago, outlining Wang Xuan's earring in the shape of a fox tail.
The sound of ice explosions from the outer three hundred miles of Apricot Grove grew increasingly intense, the shattered spiritual light of the defense array staining the morning mist a deep crimson.
"Perhaps you should ask yourself," I said, flicking my fingers to dispel his Palm. The broken ice crystals suddenly coalesced into the shadow of Yang Lin. When that phantom touched the powdered Hehuan Lotus on the table, it emitted a cry reminiscent of the Divine Soul being torn apart by the Xuanling hurricane three hundred years ago.
The cold air swirling from the wide sleeves of Xuanjade shredded the phantom, and fragments of the gilded warm furnace suddenly floated into a Nine Palace formation. The Blood Amber formed from Foxfire pulsed at the center of the array, reflecting the patterns spreading from the soul-binding curse on his nape—exactly connecting with the sacrificial diagram that had emerged at the bottom of the medicinal spring last night.
"Tomorrow at the hour of the Rabbit..."
"There is no tomorrow."
I crushed the remnants of the nurturing sound lamp hidden in my sleeve, and in the splattering ice crystals, a scene from our wedding night suddenly emerged. The mandarin ducks clasped by silver chains intertwined with his Palm's Blood Pearl, resonating with an eerie frequency alongside the Foxfire flickering above the warm furnace.
The buzzing of Xuanjade's life sword abruptly ceased, and the Ice Soul Pearl sealed within its hilt suddenly surged with Xuan Shuang's energy, flooding into my Dantian and corroding the Cinnabar Seal that separated the celestial book into charred blackness.
The new warm furnace brought by the sword attendant crashed against the barrier, dark red veins seeping from the pupils of the nine-tailed fox totem.
At that moment when those Blood Pearls fell to the ground, a thunderous roar echoed from three hundred miles deep in Apricot Grove as the defense array's core collapsed completely.
I gazed at the Blood Contract document that unfurled automatically on the table, suddenly realizing that each stroke mirrored bloodstains seeping from his Crescent Scar when he repaired "The Compendium of Herbs" back then.
"Do you truly want to..."
"You are asking for too much."
I interrupted him, and an ice crystal pen tip suddenly pierced my Fingertip.
As soon as a Blood Pearl fell onto the document, every Laurel pattern on the window lattice in the palace shattered with a resounding crack.
Amidst swirling ice crystals appeared the Execution Platform from three hundred years ago, where sixteen-year-old Xuanjade pressed a bloodied "Spiritual Pivot Essentials" against my Heart, yet wrapped within Xuan Shuang's energy was merely the residual warmth of Foxfire from Wang Xuan's warm furnace.
Xuanjade suddenly grasped my writing Wrist; shards of Xuanling jade pierced through my Palm's agony, revealing images from last night's glimpse into the heavenly mirror—those winding Xuan Shuang Footprints leading to Linghuan Xian Pavilion precisely stepped upon each core I had planted for him in years past within my Apricot Blossom Grove.
"The myriad volumes of heavenly scriptures in Linghuan Xian Pavilion cannot untangle this deadlock." His voice was thick with Shattered Ice, and as silver strands fell from his hair, an ice bell exploded.
Three strands of azure silk sealed within surged forth, entwining us in a pose reminiscent of our shared cultivation in Xuanjie Forbidden Land back then; yet those ends were distinctly tied to fragments of Wang Xuan's Blood Amber earrings.
I broke free from the entangling azure silk and slammed down the separated celestial book onto the table.
Suddenly, an image of Beidou's seven stars reversing appeared on the icy ground; those Xuan Shuang Footprints that should have dissipated were now crawling along the star map up to the pillars—forming a complete soul-binding array with the fox tail totem on fragments of the warm furnace.
"Young Mistress! The Guiding Radiance is about to disperse!"
The exclamation of the Sword Servant was shattered by the hurricane of Xuan Shuang, and suddenly, the remnants of the gilded warm stove coalesced into the phantom of Wang Xuan.
As the red robe swept past the wide sleeves of Xuanjade, a crack suddenly appeared in the Ice Soul Pearl of the main sword hilt, and the spiritual pressure from three hundred defensive formations collapsed like a tidal wave into the palace chamber.
"The words 'Fulfillment,' Immortal Sovereign should understand their meaning better than I do."
When the final stroke of the Cinnabar Seal was inscribed on the document, the bell of Linghuan Xian Pavilion suddenly erupted in a deafening sound.
The chill rising from Xuanjade's wide sleeves sent the torn pages of the Herbal Classic flying off the table; those ink sigils that had once soaked in his blood now exuded a dark red glow identical to that of Wang Xuan's earrings.
The icy pen tip suddenly drew a scorch mark at the end of the document. I gazed at the soul-binding curse that spread from his nape to his heart, and suddenly saw that each pattern overlapped with the trajectory of the extermination thunder tribulation from three hundred years ago.
The door that the Sword Servant had burst open let in the cold fragrance of Apricot Grove. Amongst the swirling snowflakes, Wang Xuan's footprints from last night shimmered with an eerie blue light.
"You seek separation; I will not allow it."
Xuanjade suddenly crushed the Liuli Bottle, and the scarlet powder of Hehuan lotus seeds condensed into a reversal formation amidst the Xuanling hurricane.
The silver chain of my mandarin duck clasp snapped with a sound, and those fragments embedded in my bloodline transformed into thorny Laurel Branches, piercing towards my Dantian's Xuan Shuang Marrow along my spiritual veins.
As Linghuan Xian Pavilion's Seven-Colored Radiance penetrated through an Icicle, I looked at the Blood Contract document gradually solidifying on the table and suddenly heard a mournful cry from deep within Apricot Grove, where I had planted a guardian tree in my childhood.
That spirit tree nurtured with my heart's blood was now shedding its blood-stained bark along Wang Xuan's Xuan Shuang Footprints.
"Tomorrow at Mao hour..."
"Immortal Sovereign should take this time to repair your main sword."
I interrupted his words and gathered up the silk robe that had been torn by Xuan Shuang's energy.
The spirit butterfly in my sleeve touched the remnants of the warm stove, and instantly formed an ice sculpture reminiscent of when Yang Lin's Divine Soul perished three hundred years ago.
The cracks in Xuanjade's main sword had spread to its hilt; within those spiderweb-like patterns, Blood Pearls seeped out, resonating with Blood Amber dangling from Wang Xuan's earrings.
As the last rays of morning light swept across the table, the separation spellbook spontaneously ignited into ashes.
Amidst those drifting embers, a snowy night from three hundred years ago reappeared in the library—Young Immortal Lord hidden behind the blood-stained Fingertip of Herbal Classic was clearly holding half of Wang Xuan's icy crystal earring.
"Take care."
Xuanjade left behind these two words wrapped in Shattered Ice, and as his wide sleeves billowed, he transformed into mist like Xuan Shuang.
I gazed at the gradually dissipating ice crystals on the table and suddenly discovered that within the Beidou patterns sealed were Laurel leaves, which bore engravings of Wang Xuan's Fate Rune on their reverse side.
The new warm stove brought by the Sword Servant suddenly emitted a fox cry; within its nine-tailed totem pupils, Ice Amber reflected a horrifying scene—three hundred miles away on Linghuan Xian Pavilion’s bridge of guidance, fresh Blood-Red Frost Marks were winding their way across.
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