Yun Duan stood there for a long time, until Wan Shao, who had been silently waiting nearby, could no longer bear it. She stepped forward and gently told her that it was getting late and they should head back. Only then did Yun Duan, as if awakening from a dream, lift her head, moved her cold and stiff fingers, and softly replied, “Mm.”
Aside from her slightly slower pace, Yun Duan seemed no different from usual—at least in Wan Shao’s eyes. Whether it was that she was hiding it too well or not, her pale face was not something new; she often looked this way. Even though she remained silent all the way home, Wan Shao had grown used to it over the years.
After all, whenever the two of them started talking, they would inevitably end up talking about Shang Can, so it was better not to say anything at all.
Once they returned to their residence, Yun Duan simply said, “Make yourself comfortable,” and then entered her room alone, leaving Wan Shao staring at the silently closed door, pondering whether she should go in and offer comfort.
But how could she comfort her? What could she say?
Wan Shao had vaguely sensed yesterday that Nan Shuang’s unkind words had a purpose.
It made sense; who would travel such a long distance just to say a few unpleasant things? Yet even with her suspicions, when she secretly followed and overheard Nan Shuang’s words, she couldn’t help but clench her teeth and frown.
Good, Shang Can, what a good strategy, so meticulously arranged that even I was kept in the dark.
Kept in the dark!
Self-proclaiming to be Shang Can’s closest friend, Wan Shao was still reeling from the frustration of being entirely in the dark about everything. She knew that this frustration paled in comparison to Yun Duan’s current feelings, so she silently bore it, planning to give Shang Can a good scolding when she returned.
“…”
…When Shang Can returns.
Wan Shao’s anger gradually deflated, replaced by a lingering suspicion that had been swirling in her heart during the return journey. She stole a glance at the tightly shut door and, unable to express a thousand words, heaved a silent sigh. She made up her mind, walked over, and knocked on Yun Duan’s door.
Heaven Outside Heaven, a place of confinement.
The disciple who was guiding her stopped in front of a seemingly sturdy closed stone door and turned to Yun Duan with a slight bow, nervously saying, “Kun Yao Jun is inside.”
Yun Duan nodded her thanks and walked straight toward the stone door. The disciple hesitated for a moment but finally called out to her, kindly reminding her, “Times have changed. Although the stone chamber has been set up with spells to restrict spiritual power, Kun Yao Jun’s temperament is currently rather unstable… So please be careful, Yun Zhong Jun.”
His comment about “unstable temperament” was quite a euphemism. The originally gentle and humble Pei Chen had become volatile and ferocious after succumbing to demonic influence. Fortunately, his outbursts weren’t frequent, and most of the time, he simply sat alone in the stone chamber in a daze. However, when he did erupt, it was quite difficult to deal with. Heaven Outside Heaven had to bind him with several strong iron chains to restrict his movement.
Once a promising leader of Heaven Outside Heaven, Pei Chen now faced such a fate, and anyone who saw him would sigh at the unpredictability of life. While the fall of a once-promising young talent was saddening, one must still look ahead. It had been several days since Pei Chen succumbed to demonic influence, and Heaven Outside Heaven had already selected a new leader, the turmoil had gradually calmed, and life had returned to normal, as if Kun Yao Jun had never existed.
The cultivators who had once befriended Pei Chen were also eager to distance themselves from him—after all, he had lost his path in front of many and become a demon cultivator. Now, the relationship between him and Shuang Jiang Jun was the subject of much gossip, dragging down Heaven Outside Heaven’s reputation. It was somewhat understandable that cultivators wanted to sever ties with him, even if it wasn’t particularly noble behavior.
Thus, in such circumstances, Yun Duan’s initiative to visit Pei Chen and request to see him alone stood out remarkably.
Noticing that the disciple was still looking at her with a hint of worry and curiosity, Yun Duan nodded expressionlessly, replying, “I will be careful, thank you.”
Hearing the implication of her dismissive remark, the disciple had no choice but to remind her, “You only have a cup of tea’s worth of time; otherwise, Kun Yao Jun might erupt,” before turning to leave. This left Yun Duan standing alone in front of the vast stone door. She looked up, slowly stretched out her hand, and used her spiritual power to push the door open.
That day, after hearing Nan Shuang’s words, Yun Duan felt somewhat better than Wan Shao had imagined.
At first, hearing those words was indeed painful, but by the time she walked home, she gradually calmed down.
It was just that she had learned a little more about that person’s arrangements from back then. So what? Would she give up searching for her?
Now that things had come to this point, she still felt lost and weak when Wan Shao knocked on the door. Yun Duan hesitated for a moment before opening the door, greeted by Wan Shao’s disjointed words.
“Shang Can, if she was this meticulous in a remote place, there’s no way she would leave a loose end.”
“If she really wanted to leave, she should have done so quietly. She planned everything carefully, yet it seems the person she never intended to let see her last moments is precisely the one who has encountered her…”
“I feel something is off; perhaps I should ask Pei Chen again.”
Drawn in by Wan Shao’s words, Yun Duan temporarily broke free from her emptiness, turning her attention to the opportunity to be alone with Pei Chen. This was easier than she had anticipated. She must have gained quite a reputation over the years, and after personally capturing Pei Chen, Heaven Outside Heaven likely opened its doors for her—perhaps they thought it no longer mattered what happened to Pei Chen. In any case, her request to visit him was soon granted.
Even now, as she entered the stone chamber, Yun Duan felt a twinge of guilt. She had come for selfish reasons, and it had to be said that she was somewhat hoping that Pei Chen, in his emotional turmoil, might reveal information he had previously kept secret. This behavior, akin to reopening someone’s wounds to extract medicine, was indeed contrary to Yun Duan’s principles, yet she still came.
At this point, compared to Shang Can, Yun Duan had cast all concerns aside.
The place where Pei Chen was imprisoned was a spacious stone chamber carved directly into a cliff, dimly lit by a small skylight several meters high. The large chamber contained only a small stone bed, on which sat a figure with his back to her, several chains extending from his body to the stone wall, each thick as an arm, indicating that his life here was quite uncomfortable.
The air in the stone chamber carried a slight dampness. Yun Duan took a few slow steps inside, not bothering to control the sound of her footsteps. The person sitting there turned his head slowly, his ears twitching slightly.
In just a few days, Pei Chen’s once handsome face had become unrecognizably haggard, his skin taking on a sickly gray-white hue, as if he were filled with a profound emptiness borne of despair.
Memories of the past flooded her mind; the fierce battle they had endured just days earlier still vividly haunted her. Each clash had been filled with brutality and desperation. Yun Duan recalled tightening her grip on her weapon, trying not to tremble, suddenly feeling as though she was witnessing the tragic end of someone who was loved yet still clung to hope.
When he recognized who had come, Pei Chen’s gaze lingered on Yun Duan for a moment before he silently turned away. Yun Duan stepped forward, opened her mouth, but hesitated for a moment before saying, “…Kun Yao Jun, how have you been recently?”
Her words came out stiffly, and Pei Chen reacted with a low, cold laugh, muttering, “What’s with the pretenses? You just want to ask me about Shang Can, don’t you?”
“…”
Feeling exposed, Yun Duan decided to abandon any pleasantries. She slightly lowered her eyes and replied, “I have something to ask you. In exchange, I can answer your questions.”
“My questions?”
Her words seemed to touch a nerve in Pei Chen. He suddenly turned to face her with such force that the chains tightened, clanking against each other. Yet, he remained unaware, standing up and leaning towards Yun Duan, his face twisted in anger, and sneered, “What questions could I have? Do you think I still want to know about her? Do you think I want to hear about her and that demon race’s romance?”
Yun Duan looked down in silence. The spacious room was filled with Pei Chen’s heavy, agitated breaths. After a few moments, he quietly asked, “…The Ghost Clan, the Ghost Clan… have they returned to the Underworld?”
“No,” Yun Duan shook her head and hesitated before adding, “But they haven’t continued their activities either; after all, the Ghost King is heartless, and the ghostly spirits can’t make a storm—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Pei Chen exploded, “I didn’t ask you about her!”
Initially thinking that his question stemmed from the responsibility of being the former leader, Yun Duan fell silent, feeling both understanding and a pang of compassion. The person before her was even more unpredictable than she had imagined. After a moment of anger, he suddenly smiled ominously and spoke again, catching Yun Duan off guard.
“She…” The one who said not to mention Yun Duan was him; now, the one who spoke those words, with a distant gaze, was also him. “Did she ever mention me?”
Without waiting for Yun Duan to answer, Pei Chen rushed to continue, “She must have, right? After all, she loved me… she… she loved me, didn’t she?”
“…”
Yun Duan pursed her lips, unsure of how to respond. Pei Chen saw her silence and became increasingly agitated, his voice sharp and high-pitched. “Why aren’t you speaking? Say something! Don’t you want to know about Shang Can?”
The name at the end of his sentence caused Yun Duan to furrow her brows slightly. Taking a deep breath, she carefully replied, “…At this point, why does Kun Yao Jun still cling to these matters?”
Pei Chen’s body trembled violently. After a moment of silence, he rebounded with even greater fury. He tightened the chains around him and shouted in rage, “What right do you have to talk to me like that! How are you any better than me? Just a demon, nothing more than a demon—”
The words he uttered only fueled his anger further. He gritted his teeth, unsure whether he was speaking to Yun Duan or just to himself as he hissed, “What makes her so… so special? A demon… no matter what, can never become human, can’t understand human emotions…”
As his words became more extreme, Yun Duan could no longer bear to listen. She stepped forward, her voice cold and unyielding. “Now, it’s time for you to answer my question.”
“Two years ago, when you last saw her, what exactly happened? Tell me everything, without holding anything back.”
Yun Duan’s tone was firm. She didn’t expect this statement to resonate with Pei Chen; she had even mentally prepared herself to resort to more forceful methods if necessary. However, Pei Chen suddenly fell silent, and his previously twisted expression froze, giving the illusion that he had regained some sanity, which momentarily stunned Yun Duan.
“She’s dead.”
When Pei Chen calmly uttered those three words, Yun Duan was still reeling from the shock of his earlier outburst.
Pei Chen, maintaining an unchanging demeanor, lifted his gaze. It was the first time since Yun Duan entered that he looked directly at her. His eyes, dark as night, were tangled with unrecognizable madness and despair. He casually pointed to the sword at Yun Duan’s waist, softly saying, “She died beneath that sword.”
Time in the stone chamber seemed to freeze for a moment, then resumed with the heavy thud of a body slamming against the stone wall.
Pei Chen felt pain all over, as if his body might fall apart. He hadn’t even registered how Yun Duan had struck him. By the time he became aware, he was slumped against the wall like a rag, while the usually aloof Yun Zhong Jun stood over him, attempting to catch her breath but failing. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, trying several times to grasp the sword hilt but ultimately only clenched into fists.
“…What did you just say?”
What was there to ask? She had clearly heard it, hadn’t she?
Even with several bones likely broken, Pei Chen still let out a cold laugh, defiantly tilting his head to look at the precariously dangling ice crystal. As he spat blood, he tried to pull her down into the mire with him.
“I said… Shang Can is already dead.” He enunciated each word, his hand pressed against his chest shaking nervously, “Two years ago, on that mountain, by the time you arrived… there was no Shang Can left in this world.”
Another wave of excruciating pain hit him. Pei Chen guessed that the arm Yun Duan had gripped must have been broken, but he didn’t care. He even found some amusement in observing her flustered demeanor, surmising that she likely didn’t even know what she was doing, just instinctively trying to stop him from saying anything more hurtful.
“…What? Do you want revenge?” But he couldn’t control himself and continued to speak, unleashing secrets hidden for years like blades, “Unfortunately, she didn’t die by my hand; she… she committed suicide.”
The hand gripping his arm suddenly stiffened and then released as if losing strength. Pei Chen fell helplessly to the ground, wracked with pain, yet an inexplicable and dark joy surged within him. It’s how people are: when they see someone suffering more than themselves, they find a moment of solace.
“Right before my eyes, the moment she slit her throat, a great fire erupted on the mountain, consuming her completely…” The earlier crash had likely alarmed the guards outside. Pei Chen could hear faint footsteps approaching, so he hurriedly sped up his speech, “Before she died, she told me to deceive you, so I did. I searched for her spirit for a long time, but I never found it—understand, Yun Duan? She could only have been reincarnated! She’s been deceiving you; she’s already dead, she’s gone, nowhere to be found!”
As he was engulfed in an unprecedented chill of killing intent, the stone door swung open, and the cultivators of Heaven Outside Heaven filed in. This farce ended with Pei Chen’s maniacal laughter, the door opened and closed again, and no one came to tend to him. He simply lay there, gasping and curled up.
“She’s already dead… she wanted you to live, she deceived you…”
Even after Yun Duan had left the stone chamber, he continued murmuring, indistinctly, as if speaking to himself over and over again.
“…So what if the one you love may have loved you too? She’s gone, she’s nowhere to be found.”
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