Chapter Twelve: Regicide, Bewilderment

Cang Yi carried her in his arms into the hall, laid her gently on the bed, and removed all the hairpins from her head, lest they prick her. His slender forefinger brushed her cheek, wiping away the traces of her tears.

“Jin Han.”

At his command, Jin Han appeared before him. “Honored One, the matter of the Divine Realm has been kept strictly confidential—no word of it has spread.”

“Withdraw,” said Cang Yi, understanding now that this was a long-laid plot against their lives. He could only hope that A Lan would not grieve herself to ruin.

Not only was Cang Yi concerned for Qing Lan, but Yu Zhi worried as well. She had just finished repairing the Ziyin Sword and, upon returning to the Divine Realm, heard of the incident. She rushed to the Azure Pavilion but did not find Qing Lan there.

Preparing to leave and continue her search, she nearly collided with Lord Qingxuan entering at the door.

“Lord Qingxuan,” Yu Zhi greeted respectfully.

“Still no sign of Lan Lan?” Qingxuan asked, concern in his voice.

“None.”

“I fear Lan Lan may not wish to be found by anyone,” Qingxuan sighed helplessly. No wonder the Honored One had sent him out of the Divine Realm—so this was the plan all along. Lan Lan would surely resent him as her master.

“There’s one more place I can try. I’ll go ahead,” said Yu Zhi. She thought of someone important to Lan Lan.

“Let me know if you find her.”

In the Infernal Demon Hall, Mu Feng had arrived early and was already questioning Jin Han.

“How is your master?”

“What else? He’s stayed by Qing Lan’s side all day, handling nothing else,” Jin Han replied helplessly. The situation was much like the former Demon Lord’s—when the God of War was falsely accused and perished, the former Demon Lord spent a full month beside his beloved. Now it was the Demon Lord’s turn; would he follow the same path?

“Lord Mu Feng, what of Lan Lan?” Yu Zhi hurried into the hall, spotting Mu Feng at once.

“With Yi accompanying her, you needn’t worry.”

“How is she? Was she hurt?”

Mu Feng looked to Jin Han for answers, as he hadn’t seen Qing Lan himself.

“She’s unconscious but unharmed.”

“That’s a relief,” Yu Zhi said. Unwillingness to wake was often a deeper pain. She understood—when her mother died, she had been the same.

“Take good care of her. I’ll be going,” Yu Zhi said, her mood heavy as she departed.

“Jin Han, I sense her spirits are low. I’ll check on her. If she’s not well cared for, Qing Lan will surely be upset. I’ll leave Yi and the others to you.”

“All right.”

Just as she reached the gate of the Luminous Clan, she ran into Fu Yi. Yu Zhi glanced at her without a greeting.

“Still associating with Qing Lan, sister?”

“And what of it? Does it concern you?” Yu Zhi’s tone was questioning, but her heart was certain.

“How could I destroy my sister’s friendship, given how close you are to Qing Lan?” Fu Yi’s words rang hollow, and even she seemed not to believe them.

“If I discover you had a hand in this, don’t blame me for ignoring sisterly ties.” Yu Zhi knew Fu Yi well and had always regarded her as nothing, but if Fu Yi insisted on provoking her—

“Father,” Fu Yi called out as Lord Hua Zhen approached. She bowed.

Yu Zhi also bowed, for she still respected her father—provided her boundaries were not crossed.

“Yu Zhi, from now on, stay away from Qing Lan,” Hua Zhen said, astonishing her.

“Father, it was you who urged me to befriend her, and you gained much from it. Now, when the profit’s gone, you cast her aside?”

“It’s not I who forbids you, but your sister testified against you in the Golden Throne Hall. There’s a rift now, and so—” Hua Zhen tried to explain.

“What did you say?” Yu Zhi’s disbelief was plain.

“I testified in the Hall. Didn’t you know, sister?” Fu Yi’s smile was radiant with satisfaction.

“That was your doing—what has it to do with me?” Yu Zhi slapped her hard, sending Fu Yi flying several meters. She turned to Hua Zhen. “Father, this is my affair. I’ll handle it. Do not interfere.”

“You dare! Have you grown so bold that I can no longer control you?” Hua Zhen thundered.

“With a father like you, my own blood disgusts me,” Yu Zhi retorted. If not for a shred of reason, she would have struck out.

She had always respected him, believing his sternness was for her own good, that making friends would one day bring her aid. Now she saw it was all self-interest.

Hua Zhen’s fury rose, and he lashed her with the ‘Violet Gold’ whip. Yu Zhi made no defense; she fell, gravely injured, blood trickling from her lips.

“Do you admit fault?”

“I did nothing wrong. I have never been more clear-headed,” Yu Zhi stubbornly replied.

“I’ll beat you to death, you unfilial child!”

Yu Zhi closed her eyes, welcoming death as atonement. Just as the whip was about to strike again, Mu Feng appeared, unsheathing the ‘Executioner’ to block her.

“The illustrious Lord Hua Zhen, renowned for his harmony and humility, resorts to such cruelty?” Mu Feng’s voice was thick with irony.

“This is a family matter of the Luminous Clan, Lord Mu Feng. I ask you not to meddle.”

“But Qing Lan is my friend, and Yu Zhi is a dear sister to her. How can I not intervene?” Mu Feng’s demeanor turned solemn. “I’m taking her. If you want her back, you’ll have to defeat me.”

With that, Mu Feng left openly with Yu Zhi, and none dared protest. Fu Yi looked away, unable to bear the sight. When had she become acquainted with him?

He brought Yu Zhi to his residence. Concerned, he asked, “Why were you there?”

Yu Zhi’s voice was faint and weak, but Mu Feng still caught it. “It’s all because Qing Lan thinks so highly of you. If you’re hurt, when she wakes, she’ll worry. Then Yi will be hard to deal with, and I’ll be in trouble. This is all for my own sake.”

“I—”

“Don’t speak. Let me heal you.” Mu Feng poured his spiritual power into her, repairing her turbulent energy.

Feeling a little better, Yu Zhi began to meditate and recover. The wounds soon healed.

“Thank you. You’ve saved me again.” Yu Zhi rose, took out the promised Fire Jade, and handed it to him. “Here’s the Fire Jade you need. Twice now I owe you. If ever you need something from me, just ask.”

“We’ll discuss that later. The greatest help you can give me is to live well.”

“Then we’ll speak of it later—I won’t forget.” With those words, Yu Zhi turned to go.

“Where are you off to? Can you even return to the Divine Realm?”

“I’m going to find Lan Lan, to stay by her side, through fire and water, to atone for my sins.”

“But she has her husband with her. Aren’t you being a bit superfluous?” Mu Feng’s words stung, but they were true. “Besides, if your father comes for you, how am I to explain?” His voice grew softer—he hardly knew what had come over him.

“Fine then. I won’t be a bother here, will I?” Yu Zhi was embarrassed; she hated imposing, but now had no choice.

“No trouble at all. I spend my days cultivating and refining, and sometimes help Yi. I only worry you’ll be bored,” Mu Feng hastened to assure her.

“Thank you,” Yu Zhi said again.

———

A month later, Mo Yan learned from Fu Yi that Qing Lan was no longer in the Divine Realm, and that the Demon Lord hadn’t been seen for a month. What was going on?

At the Infernal Demon Hall, Mo Yan came to question Jin Han about the Lord’s whereabouts but found no one. Suddenly, a chill swept the hall—a figure flew from the inner chamber.

Clad in icy blue, her dark hair unadorned and drifting in the wind, her eyes flashed crimson and blue, demonic energy and spiritual power swirling within. She glanced at Mo Yan.

“A lowly demon, unworthy of my blade.”

With a flick of her hand, Mo Yan was sent flying several meters as the figure soared toward the Divine Realm.

Returning, Cang Yi found Mo Yan gravely injured on the floor. In an instant, he was inside the inner chamber. The bed was empty; Qing Lan was gone and her hairpins left unfastened, suggesting she’d left in haste or vanished.

He had left only briefly to attend to a pressing matter, leaving Jin Han to manage the rest, and in the time it took for a single incense stick to burn, she was gone.

In a blink, he was back before Mo Yan.

“What have you done?” Cang Yi seized her by the throat, thinking she’d killed Qing Lan.

“Let go—cough—” Mo Yan gasped in pain.

He sealed her demonic energy and flung her against a pillar. Blood spattered from her lips.

“Speak.”

“She suddenly appeared, struck me, and flew toward the Divine Realm,” Mo Yan managed to say, but Cang Yi’s figure had already vanished.

While they spoke, Qing Lan had already reached the Divine Realm. Seizing Feng Yun, she lured the highest-ranking immortals to Snow Ridge Plain, intending to annihilate all the immortal sects.

Snow Ridge Plain was perpetually blanketed with snow. On the surface, it seemed flat, but a misstep meant plunging into a bottomless abyss. For someone like Qing Lan, born with ice affinity, it was the perfect battlefield—cold energy surrounded her, boundless and inexhaustible.

As the immortals arrived, a wicked smile twisted Qing Lan’s lips, bloodlust in her eyes. So many to kill—her spirits soared. But her hand was empty—her divine weapon was missing. She blinked in confusion.

Feng Yun’s divine sense told him: this aura was divine, demonic, and mortal all at once—three lineages in one. Only one person in the ancient records had ever possessed all three.

But he could not be sure, for before him stood a being with no emotion, a weapon of slaughter—killing gods and devils alike.

“Frost of the Three Realms, Phoenix Feather, Ice Feather Fan return.” Qing Lan whispered the incantation, made a seal, and all the cold of the Three Realms gathered at her right hand. An icy-blue fan appeared.

Following the trace of demonic frost, Cang Yi arrived at Snow Ridge Plain. He saw the Ice Feather Fan—master artifact of the Three Realms—in Qing Lan’s hand, and suddenly a flood of memories surged through his mind.

“If not for King Yi’s help, I’d never have ascended the throne. Pity, for one so clever, your fate was always short-lived.” A dagger plunged into his chest; the face before him smiled with demonic allure.

“Master’s teachings will never be forgotten. I’ll make good use of them.” Once more, he fell by that person’s hand.

...

“You killed my parents—how should I answer? Only with your blood as sacrifice.”

...

“From now on, you are my friend. If anyone bullies you, I’ll make them pay.” But in the end, he died of illness.

...

“My brother is gone—I don’t know what to do, sobbing.”

“Was it my fault? Is that why they left me? Why even my own parents abandoned me?”

...

“My whole life has been bitter. One drop of honey is enough to taste sweet, don’t you think?”

“From this day, I am your wife. You must never betray me.”

...

These memories, deeply rooted, flashed through his mind. In that moment, he remembered everything.

“A Lan, between us, from the moment we met, the ending was sealed.” Cang Yi pressed a hand to his heart, his voice heavy with grief. “I cannot let go, yet I am powerless.”

The Ice Feather Fan was already in Qing Lan’s hand. With a wicked smile, she snapped it open. Thirteen fan ribs shot out, striking the immortals around. Those of godly rank froze instantly, their lives snuffed out.

Yu Zhi and Mu Feng arrived just in time to be caught in the chaos. They could hardly believe the bloodthirsty transformation that had overtaken her.

Spotting Feng Yun, Qing Lan instinctively flung the fan at him. He had no time to defend himself—his spirit was shattered and he perished.

Her eyes rolled, then fixed on Cang Yi.

“So eager to die?” Qing Lan had planned to slaughter the Divine Realm, then turn to the Demon Realm.

Just as she recalled the Ice Feather Fan, thunder rumbled overhead. A bolt of heavenly lightning struck down. Qing Lan deftly used the fan to block, but after two strikes, blood spurted from her lips. The third and strongest bolt would utterly obliterate her soul and body.

In that instant, a figure soared above her, shielding her from the final heavenly punishment. Qing Lan felt no pain—she looked up. The very man she’d wanted to kill had taken the strike for her. She watched, helpless, as Cang Yi faded away.

His soul dissipated, his body vanished, and from the air fell the hairpin she’d left behind—a pink jade pin. Unconsciously, Qing Lan caught it, staring blankly.

“You are...” The Ice Feather Fan slipped from her hand as she clutched her head, agony splitting her skull. Memories of their time together flooded back—ten thousand years of reincarnation, every lifetime by her side. Tears streamed down her face.

A scream tore from her throat, echoing across Snow Ridge Plain. Her black hair turned white from root to tip.

Her body arched back, falling from the sky to the deepest abyss, unconscious. The fan tumbled after her.

From the moment she collapsed, snow and frost blanketed the Three Realms for three days. Qingxuan, witnessing the phenomenon, was stunned. This was the sign of the Frost Lord’s fall. Had she truly returned, only to vanish again?