Chapter 103: The Price of Obsession

“Bastard! Ahhh, you utter bastard!”

Growing increasingly furious, the demon princess, usually so cunning and proud, screamed with a mix of indignation and rage. She was like a child whose beloved toy had been snatched away.

Behind her, the ethereal Golden Crow flickered violently as its master lost control. Finally, with a resounding ‘boom,’ it exploded into a myriad of golden light particles that scattered across the air.

Yuange slammed her fist forcefully onto the icy surface beneath her feet.

“Crack—”

The ice, as sturdy as refined iron, fractured in a spiderweb pattern around her fist, revealing the dark潭 waters below.

Yet, this violent outburst could not even unleash a thousandth of the fury raging within her heart.

She had burned her bloodline and nearly sacrificed her right eye, all to gain a tiny shred of guilt and closeness from that idiot. She had believed that with this ‘life for a life’ bond, she had seized the initiative in this hunting game.

Shen Zhaoqing should have been hers. Her chosen little prey should have belonged to her.

But what was the result?

A ‘doctor’ who appeared from nowhere had simply taken her ‘prey’ lock, stock, and barrel.

What a load of rubbish, that gentle therapy!

What a load of rubbish, that Holy Maiden of Penglai Immortal Palace!

That was clearly the most shameless thief! A band of audacious bandits!

“Bai Zhileng! Just you wait, this princess will have her revenge!”

Yuange gritted her teeth, her amber-gold eyes burning with a fierce blaze. “If I can’t have her, you won’t live in peace either! I’ll return to the Myriad Demon Kingdom right now and have my Imperial Father overturn your wretched island of Penglai!”

****

Observe these three: stripped bare of all their dignity, one fainted from anger, one called for backup, and one ran home to daddy.

How pitiful. Their enemy was already far beyond their reach.

The long-running battlefield of rivalry had temporarily ceased, with all animosity directed outwards.

After a faint sensation, akin to dizziness passing through a watery mist, Bai Zhileng, cradling the young woman in her arms, stepped onto solid ground.

No longer was she met with the biting cold winds and scent of blood from the northern reaches, but with a spiritual energy so thick it was almost tangible, infused with the pure fragrance of a hundred herbs and a faint hint of sea salt.

This was Penglai.

An isolated immortal sanctuary above the Eastern Sea, cut off from the mortal world.

Everything within sight was pristine white.

Underfoot lay jade-like white stone slabs, while in the distance, pavilions and towers, intricately carved and adorned with jade, rose majestically. Clouds and mist swirled among them, creating a scene straight out of a celestial realm.

The air was filled with the fragrance of unknown spiritual plants.

Elegant cranes gracefully paced by the distant water trees, and upon seeing her figure, they collectively let out clear, resonant cries.

Two young disciples, Qingfeng and Mingyue, dressed in azure apothecary robes, were already waiting by the teleportation array. Seeing Bai Zhileng, they immediately bowed respectfully.

“Welcome back to the palace, Holy Maiden!”

However, when they looked up and clearly saw Bai Zhileng’s appearance, both of them froze.

The Holy Maiden, their senior sister, whom they remembered as perpetually gentle, composed, and with hair like a waterfall of dark silk, now had a head full of white hair and a face so pale it utterly lacked color. She resembled a snow lotus ravaged by frost and wind, exuding a heartbreaking sense of fragility.

In her arms, she held a young woman, tightly swaddled in white fox fur.

“Holy… Holy Maiden, what is this…?” Qingfeng stammered, gathering his courage to ask.

Bai Zhileng did not answer him.

Her gaze, from beginning to end, was fixed with an almost obsessive devotion on the quiet, sleeping face in her embrace.

“Prepare the Cold Jade Bed. Clear the Quiet Contemplation Cliff. No one is to approach.”

“Yes!”

Qingfeng and Mingyue dared not ask further, promptly accepting the order and departing.

Bai Zhileng, holding Shen Zhaoqing, walked step by step along the familiar white jade path.

Her steps were steady, her embrace even firmer. She walked slowly, as if surveying her own territory, or perhaps, showcasing the magnificent, inescapable cage she had prepared for her ‘trophy’ within her arms.

Quiet Contemplation Cliff.

This was the most secluded and spiritually purest place in Penglai Immortal Palace, usually accessible only to the Palace Master and the Holy Maiden.

By the cliff’s edge stood a stone chamber built entirely from thousand-year-old cold jade. It was warm in winter and cool in summer, capable of calming the divine soul and stilling inner demons.

Bai Zhileng gently placed Shen Zhaoqing on the Cold Jade Bed, which emitted a faint chill, and carefully tucked the edges of the fox fur around her.

Only after completing this did she collapse onto the edge of the bed, as if all her strength had left her, and gaze silently at Shen Zhaoqing.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment.

After an unknown duration, perhaps an hour, perhaps a day, the long, curled eyelashes of the person on the bed fluttered ever so slightly. Bai Zhileng’s breath instantly hitched.

She instinctively leaned forward, her usually calm, placid autumn-water eyes now filled with intense anticipation, and a hint of fear she herself hadn’t realized. She was afraid.

She was actually afraid that everything she had sacrificed would turn out to be for naught. She feared that when those eyes opened, they would still belong to the Shen Zhaoqing who would mock her, scathingly criticize her, and make her feel both love and hate.

Finally, those eyes slowly opened.

What kind of eyes were they?

Clearly defined in black and white, as pure as the sky after a fresh rain, or like the most pristine glazed glass, untainted by a single speck of dust.

Deep within the pupils, the faint golden gleam that had once captivated countless hearts had completely subsided, vanishing without a trace.

These eyes held none of their former languor or cunning, none of the vigilance or calculation they displayed in the face of danger, and none of the loneliness or weariness from solitary drinking.

They held… no emotion at all.

Empty.

Pure.

Like a newborn infant curiously observing this unfamiliar world, or a perfectly crafted glazed doll imbued with life, merely reflecting everything before it with quiet loyalty.

She had awakened.

But she had also died.

Half of Bai Zhileng’s heart sank into the icy depths of the sea, while the other half surged with a morbid ecstasy.

She had succeeded.

The Forbidden Art of Severing Sorrow Sealing Heart Seal, a technique that used the caster’s life and Dao heart as a cage, had perfectly achieved its purpose.

She tentatively reached out, gently caressing the pale, almost translucent cheek. It was cold and devoid of warmth, yet as smooth as the finest silk.

“Zhaoqing?” she whispered softly.

The person on the bed moved their eyes, their gaze settling on her face.

She looked at Bai Zhileng as one might look at a flower, a stone, or a cloud.

Her eyes held no confusion, no intimacy, no detachment. Nothing at all.

Just pure, blank observation.

Bai Zhileng’s heart felt a faint pang from that hollow gaze, but immediately, an even more intense, twisted sense of satisfaction surged through her.

Unwilling to give up, her fingertips moved, and a Water Mirror Art unfolded before them.

Three figures slowly emerged in the mirror.

Gu Chang’an, aloof as snow, standing with her sword.

Ling Shuangjue, crimson eyes like blood, radiating chilling killing intent.

Yuange, with cunning golden eyes and a perpetual smile.

These were the three individuals most deeply intertwined and heavily imprinted in Shen Zhaoqing’s life.

Bai Zhileng needed to confirm if her ‘seal’ had truly erased everything.

Shen Zhaoqing’s gaze slowly swept across the Water Mirror.

It passed over Gu Chang’an without pausing, over Ling Shuangjue without a ripple, and over Yuange like a breeze. Her eyes regarded them as if they were three completely unfamiliar, irrelevant moving landscapes.

Only at this moment did Bai Zhileng finally, completely relax.

She had won.

Bai Zhileng waved her hand, dispersing the Water Mirror. Then, she leaned down, gently pressing her cheek against Shen Zhaoqing’s. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of that vibrant life force that now belonged solely to her, greedily taking a breath.

‘This is good.’

‘This is truly good.’

‘No more annoying pasts, no more entangled karmas, no more Gu Chang’an’s sword, no more Ling Shuangjue’s demonic power, no more Yuange’s demonic influence.’

‘Clean and pure, utterly flawless.’

‘Like a blank canvas, ready for her to paint any color she desired.’

“See, how wonderful this is,” Bai Zhileng murmured into Shen Zhaoqing’s ear.

“No worries, no pain, no more people or events that exhausted you…”

“From now on, in your world, there will only be me.”

As she spoke, she slowly straightened up, looking into those eyes that still gazed at her blankly. For the first time, her face revealed a twisted expression, a mixture of endless guilt and a hint of morbid satisfaction.

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