The warmth on her lips was unmistakable. To Rong Ji, it felt as if fireworks had exploded before her eyes.
Even though the touch was fleeting, the lingering sensation and the slight sting stirred her heart. The High Priestess, who had ruled for years, found herself at a total loss, her hands hovering awkwardly as if she didn’t know where to place them.
“You,” Rong Ji began, only then realizing how hoarse her voice was. “Is everything you said true?”
This time, her voice trembled from pure joy.
Sang Ruo leaned in, pressing her forehead against Rong Ji’s. She whispered, “Leaving without saying goodbye was my fault. I won’t do it again, all right?”
Rong Ji’s eyes grew bright, like a layer of ice suddenly melting away to reveal the radiance beneath.
She tilted her head slightly, nuzzling against the other woman. Their hair intertwined intimately.
It was unclear who started it, but soon their lips met and their breaths mingled in an endlessly lingering embrace. Later, they began to bite like wild animals, as if trying to vent all the displaced emotions and tremors of the heart through this singular act.
They only pulled apart when the sound of footsteps approached from outside.
Sang Ruo’s cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in short gasps. Rong Ji managed to maintain her cold, aloof expression, but upon closer inspection, her lips were redder and more moist than usual, looking like bruised cherries.
Sang Ruo helped her put her mask back on.
While they allowed the outside world to speculate about their relationship, it did not mean they were willing to let others witness their intimacy.
“Lord High Priestess,” a divine attendant from the Bamboo Department announced. “The City Lords of Yunyi and Danning have arrived for a visit and are waiting in the manor. Furthermore, they require your final decision regarding the matter of the demons.”
Rong Ji nodded slightly, her voice returning to its cool tone. “Then let us go.”
Rong Ji and Sang Ruo shared a cloud carriage back to the estate. Upon arrival, Sang Ruo returned to her room to rest, while Rong Ji went to discuss matters with the other City Lords.
The System, having just been released from the “black room,” spoke with lingering fear: 【So… you two made up?】
Sang Ruo replied, “More or less.”
The System soon noticed that its Host was in a very unusual state.
She wasn’t reading or drinking tea as she usually did. Instead, she sat relaxed at the table, propping her head up with one hand while tapping her fingers rhythmically against the surface. Every few moments, her gaze would drift toward the door.
A faint, lingering curve remained on her lips. She was smiling.
The Great Heavenly Demon rarely showed emotional fluctuations; her face was usually expressionless or filled with contempt and mockery. What was this?
Connecting it to what had just happened, the System covered its face: Pink bubbles were practically overflowing!
It took a long while for Sang Ruo to snap out of that state. She pulled up the System interface to take a look.
When Helian Yun died, the main mission had been completely finished. The energy points obtained had not only paid off all her debts but left a significant surplus. As expected of a male lead, his “value” was truly high.
Her current balance was 10,300 points.
On the mission panel, only one task remained: the hidden mission generated after the System upgrade—completing the world’s plot. After dealing with Mei Si, the progress bar had jumped to sixty percent.
Now that demons were appearing everywhere, the war between the male lead and the demons in the original timeline would have been a long, drawn-out affair. It was essentially the “main plot” of the later stages. Only after thoroughly resolving the demon threat would the male lead have truly reached the pinnacle.
Sang Ruo guessed that after they resolved the current demon incident, this hidden mission would be complete.
The Meeting Hall
All the major City Lords were present, and those who could not attend in person sent their messages via spiritual sense. The situation had reached a critical point.
The trap set at the Bestiary was not an isolated incident; similar schemes had been laid in other cities to varying degrees.
Some had taken precautions thanks to Rong Ji’s earlier warnings, while others, who were skeptical or failed to prepare, had suffered significant losses.
Through this, the demons finally revealed the fangs they had hidden in the shadows. This meant the great war was about to officially begin.
The discussion lasted until late into the night. When the lamps were lit, the City Lords finally agreed on a strategy.
Once the official business concluded, it was customary for the Lords to exchange pleasantries, but Rong Ji suddenly stood up to take her leave.
The Lords found this strange. Rong Ji paused, and beneath the mask, her voice carried a hint of a smile. “Someone is waiting for me at home.”
Hurrying out of the hall, Rong Ji walked back to the small courtyard where Sang Ruo stayed.
She felt her heart, which had been silent for so long, thumping loudly. Her palms were slightly damp with sweat, and her steps felt as though she were walking on clouds. Standing before the carved Phoebe zhennan wood door of Sang Ruo’s room, she suddenly felt a bout of shyness.
After a moment’s pause, she pushed it open gently.
Sang Ruo was looking down, fiddling with a teacup. Her long, water-like black hair cascaded down. Hearing the movement, she looked up, her eyes completely filled with Rong Ji’s silhouette.
Rong Ji heard herself ask, “Have you been waiting long?”
For Rong Ji, protecting the people under her rule was a duty she was born with; it was the meaning of her existence. But Sang Ruo was her entire private world. Sang Ruo was herself.
She had placed her very soul in Sang Ruo’s hands.
In her youth, she had been deceived and lived an absurd life. As she grew older and woke up to the reality, she spent her days feigning compliance with Mei Si while gathering strength to break free. Later, as the Master of the Divine Court, she became exhausted by the endless dealings with the outside world.
Looking back now, her life had been a pool of stagnant water. Only the few months spent with Sang Ruo served as the singular bright spot in her barren existence.
The two sat at the table, both acting quite formally.
It was Sang Ruo who first let her lips curve into a smile, pushing the teacup toward Rong Ji. “Freshly brewed tea. Want a taste?”
Rong Ji had just seen Sang Ruo drinking from this cup. Seeing those vermilion lips having touched the rim, she suddenly felt her throat go dry.
As she took the cup, her thumb accidentally grazed Sang Ruo’s pinky finger. Rong Ji pursed her lips and gulped the tea down.
Because her mind was not at peace, she drank too quickly.
“Cough, cough!”
The moist tea trickled down her chin. Rong Ji reached into her sleeve for an embroidered handkerchief, but before she could find it, a white cloth was handed to her. “Wipe yourself.”
The other woman’s voice carried a hint of teasing. Rong Ji kept her face cold, but the tips of her ears turned red.
This person was doing it on purpose.
“I suddenly remembered,” Sang Ruo said slowly. “I believe a ‘piece of cloth’ of mine is still with you.”
Rong Ji’s movements froze.
Once, Sang Ruo had used her sleeve as a handkerchief to help Rong Ji wipe away grass stains. Due to the power struggle with Mei Si and taking over the Divine Court, Rong Ji hadn’t been able to return that scrap of fabric for days. Then came the incident at the Land of Devotion, where Sang Ruo fell into a deep sleep.
As for now, that piece of fabric was naturally still kept safely by her side. Months ago, she would take it out from time to time to look at it, reminiscing about the days when Sang Ruo was still there.
Sang Ruo bringing this up was tantamount to uncovering the most secret corner of her heart. Her ears turned entirely red, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to answer.
Sang Ruo didn’t need her to answer. Her dark eyes were full of mischief. “You told me back then that if a mortal steals a fairy’s feather raiment, the fairy can never return to heaven. So…”
Before she could finish, Rong Ji, unable to bear it any longer, leaned over and blocked her lips.
“Mmph…”
Rong Ji had just come in from the outside, so her lips were a bit cool. Sang Ruo felt as if she had been pressed against a piece of chilled jelly, icy yet sweet.
As they pressed close together, Rong Ji’s lips quickly became burning hot, catching Sang Ruo’s temperature.
In matters like this, Rong Ji had always been quite aggressive. She gripped Sang Ruo’s waist, making her entire body feel as if it were on fire.
Sang Ruo quickly lost the exchange, her eyes becoming misty.
In a gap between breaths, Rong Ji whispered, “Yes. You cannot return to heaven.”
She said this right into Sang Ruo’s ear. The heat of her breath made half of Sang Ruo’s body go numb. Not to be outdone, Sang Ruo tilted Rong Ji’s chin and kissed her back.
This kiss led them all the way to the bed.
Rong Ji reached out a hand and let the bed curtains fall.
The red candles cast a warm yellow light over the entire room.
Their long hair was spread beautifully across the bed. Sang Ruo lay against Rong Ji’s chest, listening to her steady, powerful heartbeat.
Her own heart felt a sense of peace it had never known before.
Even knowing that losing this gamble would mean total ruin, she had pursued it without looking back.
A close friend had once said that if you are ever hesitant about a choice, you can toss a coin. In the moment the coin is in the air, you realize which answer your heart truly hopes for.
Sang Ruo thought she would simply follow her heart like this.
She suddenly sat up, propping herself up over Rong Ji, and looked at her seriously. Rong Ji’s snow-white cheeks were tinged with a faint pink, her voice lazy and satisfied. “Hmm?”
Sang Ruo’s expression softened. She leaned toward Rong Ji’s ear, her lips moving softly as she spoke.
Rong Ji froze.
Sang Ruo seemed amused by her reaction. She reached out with her fingertips and playfully brushed aside a stray lock of Rong Ji’s hair.
“Are you truly that surprised?”
Rong Ji’s lips parted slightly. “I…”
“Shh,” Sang Ruo pressed her forefinger against Rong Ji’s lips. “It is enough that you know.”
Rong Ji wrapped her arms around Sang Ruo and buried her head in the crook of the other woman’s neck.
In that moment, the emotions flooding her heart were beyond words.
It turned out that Sang Ruo was the very deity she had anticipated countless times, questioned countless times, and been disappointed by countless times during her youth.
It turned out that the deity had never abandoned the Ganmu people. And she… had never been abandoned either.
Sang Ruo’s fingers stroked through Rong Ji’s hair.
When she had merged with the deity, she had inherited more than just the Divine Spark. She had inherited memories—ancient recollections of the deity’s guardianship over its people.
The deity was traditionally beyond desire or need, yet Sang Ruo could feel that it had possessed a certain “love” for its subjects. As the High Priestess—the most devout and unique among the citizens—Rong Ji had held the greatest share of that divine love.
However, the deity had grown too weak. It could no longer guide or protect its favorite child as it once had.
Sang Ruo’s current state was peculiar. She was simultaneously the Heavenly Demon and that very deity.
Thus, she could guess why the deity had summoned the tsunami in the original timeline. It was not, as the records claimed, because the deity was angry at the High Priestess’s impurity. Rather, it was a manifestation of rage toward Helian Yun for deceiving the High Priestess. It had sought to punish him.
But it had been too frail. The tsunami, summoned with the last of its divine power, failed to harm Helian Yun. Instead, it gave him the opportunity to destroy the sacred wood vessel, allowing him to seize the Divine Spark.
Fortunately, everything had changed.
Sang Ruo returned Rong Ji’s embrace.
With a flick of her finger, a sharp gust of wind extinguished the candles. “Let us sleep.”
After that, they stayed together every night. After nearly a week, even the Great Heavenly Demon found it a bit taxing.
“Do you not have your own place to sleep?” Sang Ruo asked grumpily.
Rong Ji extended a hand from beneath the brocade quilt and pulled Sang Ruo back by the waist. “Stay a little longer.”
Consequently, Sang Ruo left Fuqu City early that morning in a huff, taking a flying treasure to find Xuan Huaiyu. She had been cooped up in the manor for days and was bored to death.
Since that day at the Bestiary, Xuan Huaiyu had been dragged back to Sumeru City by her father for her impulsive behavior and placed under house arrest.
Now that Sang Ruo was no longer under her own “restriction” in Fuqu City, she had simply informed Rong Ji of her plans and set off.
Xuan Huaiyu, who could never sit still, had nearly gone mad after seven days of confinement. Seeing Sang Ruo was like finding a savior.
“Do you know how unfair my father is? He actually…”
Through Xuan Huaiyu’s venting, Sang Ruo learned the full story.
Xuan Huaiyu had gone to the Bestiary because of her cousin’s instigation. Even her initial move to seek out Sang Ruo had been secretly guided by that same cousin. Once the plot failed, the cousin had vanished from the family home and fled.
However, two days ago, she had been captured by the Sumeru City guards and thrown into the water dungeon. Barring any accidents, once the information regarding the demons was extracted, her end would be death or something far worse.
After finishing her story, Xuan Huaiyu took a sip of tea and suddenly turned to Sang Ruo. “Sister, you certainly fooled me!”
She had originally thought Sang Ruo was a mortal who knew nothing of cultivation. She never expected her to be a powerful master with hidden strength.
Sang Ruo remained composed. “How did I fool you? While I was with you, did I ever tell a single lie?”
Xuan Huaiyu thought about it and realized she couldn’t find one.
She puffed out her cheeks. “In any case, you are articulate and smarter than me. I can’t win an argument with you!” She turned her head away, pretending to ignore her.
Sang Ruo called her name a few times, but she remained stubborn. Sang Ruo then said, “It seems my sister does not wish to go for a stroll with me. I have yet to see Sumeru City.”
Xuan Huaiyu snapped her head back, her eyes shining. “Does that mean you convinced my father?”
Sang Ruo nodded.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” Xuan Huaiyu stood up immediately. “I know all the best places to eat and play in this city!”
The struggle against the demons continued for over a hundred years. Eventually, the cultivators began to gain the upper hand. In time, it became common practice for young disciples to hunt demons as part of their trials.
As for Rong Ji, the survivors of the Kingdom of Immortality established a firm foothold in the cultivation world, and the number of powerhouses within their tribe grew steadily.
Xuan Huaiyu also matured through the hardships, eventually becoming capable of managing Sumeru City’s affairs on behalf of the City Lord.
One day, Rong Ji and the other City Lords finally tracked down the mastermind behind the demons—the Original Demon that had been suppressed underground long ago.
Sang Ruo held back the formations the Original Demon had prepared, leaving Rong Ji to deliver the final blow.
The Original Demon was severely wounded and reverted to a tiny wisp of demonic energy, escaping back underground. Within the laws of this world, it could not be killed; it could only be sealed by human hands.
The crowd formed a massive array and reinforced the seal.
With that, the cultivation world was secured for nearly ten thousand years of peace.
A High Priestess inherits the power of her predecessor upon reaching adulthood, making her born with great strength.
Laws inevitably impose a check on such existences. The restriction on the High Priestesses was that, despite being part of an immortal race, their lifespans were short, lasting only about three hundred years.
Sang Ruo stayed by Rong Ji’s side for those three hundred years.
During those three centuries, they repelled demons together and changed the customs and systems of the tribe. They traveled far and wide, leaving beautiful memories in many places.
There were no regrets left.
One day, Rong Ji closed her eyes and did not wake up again. Sang Ruo looked down at her for a long time before gently pressing a kiss to her brow.
The piece of sacred wood that Sang Ruo had once kept near her heart was pulled out by her own hand and crushed into dust.
“We shall meet again in the next world.”
Sang Ruo lay down beside Rong Ji and closed her eyes as well.
After they departed, there would no longer be a deity for the tribe, nor would there be a High Priestess. But thanks to their efforts, the tribespeople could live well even without relying on faith or the help of ghosts and gods.