Rong Yao shook her head, her eyes red.
She was just too emotional—she had thought she would never see Taotao again.
In her past life, the Immortal Gate Sect had been destroyed, the fire burning for seven days and seven nights, leaving nothing behind.
“Then don’t cry…” Seeing the girl say nothing and only weep, Taotao was at a loss. It flapped its little wings, circling around Rong Yao several times.
“At worst, when my peaches ripen, I’ll treat you to some.”
At those words, the girl, who had been crying her heart out, immediately stopped. She held out her slender, pale little hand to link pinkies with him, her body still hiccupping from sobbing. ”It’s… it’s a promise.”
Taotao: ”…”
It suspected she had only cried so hard on purpose just to eat its peaches.
“Taotao, do you believe in… rebirth?”
At night, Rong Yao lay on a soft couch in the courtyard, gazing at the stars hanging in the night sky, and asked slowly.
“Huh?” Taotao’s mouth was stuffed full of grapes, too busy eating to catch what the girl had just said.
Rong Yao closed her eyes and rolled over. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”
If it were her, she probably wouldn’t believe in rebirth either.
…
“Rong Yao…”
“Rong Yao…”
Who was calling her?
In a daze, Rong Yao felt an icy hand grip her chin. The pressure was a bit heavy, uncomfortable enough that she opened her eyes.
Then a familiar, handsome face appeared before her. The man was strikingly beautiful, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He lowered his head and bit—not too lightly, not too hard—into the soft flesh of her neck, nuzzling ambiguously. “Did I permit you to sleep?”
His scorching breath washed over her. Looking at the man so close she could touch him, Rong Yao’s face went white in an instant.
Hadn’t she been reborn? How could he still…
“Mmph…”
The man’s large palm slid down her spine, his slender fingers hooking the sash at her waist. With a gentle pull, her dress slipped down.
Realizing what the man intended to do to her, Rong Yao instinctively struggled, kicking her feet, trying to push him away.
But with her meager strength, Yin Yanxiu didn’t even need to push her away—he could easily render her immobile.
“Why aren’t you being good again?”
The man’s slightly cool lips captured hers, first nibbling lightly, then increasing the pressure, grinding ambiguously across her lips like a raging storm, kissing her until her breath came fast and the corners of her eyes flushed an unnatural red…
“No… don’t!”
Rong Yao jolted awake from the dream, her face deathly pale from fright.
Only when she saw the fresh, elegant decor around her—so different from the Demon Palace’s layout—did she realize it had all been a nightmare.
No… this won’t do!
She couldn’t just sit and wait for death.
In the future, once Yin Yanxiu became the Demon King, not only the Immortal Gate Sect but the entire Three Realms would be plunged into misery. She had to do something!
“Taotao, Taotao! Wake up…”
Taotao was sleeping soundly when it was suddenly shaken awake.
Looking at the girl before it, it grumbled in displeasure, “What are you doing in the middle of the night…”
Rong Yao said, “Do you know where Master’s storeroom key is?”
Late at night
Pure Dust Palace storeroom
Taotao yawned, its tiny body floating in midair, watching the girl rummage through chests and cabinets searching for something.
After who knew how long, it suddenly heard the girl cry out, “Found it!”
Rong Yao looked up from a dust-covered chest, her face smudged with grime, a short dagger in her hand.
Taotao recognized it at a glance—it was an ancient weapon: the Abyss-Devouring Sword.
Taotao’s drowsiness vanished instantly, and her eyes went wide. “Yaobao, why did you take that out?”
Rong Yao gazed at the Abyss-Devouring Sword in her hand, its whole body radiating an icy aura. The bone-piercing cold seeped deep into her marrow, and as the sword’s frigid energy entered her body, she shivered uncontrollably.
Yin Yanxiu was a demon, and no ordinary weapon in this world could kill him.
In her past life, while staying by his side, she had personally witnessed an immortal clansman attempt to assassinate him with the Holy Sword, a blade rumored to be capable of slaying every evil thing in existence.
The Holy Sword had pierced straight through his heart, yet not only did he not die, he casually pulled it out as if it were nothing, a sinister sneer playing at the corner of his mouth.
Afterward, the immortal who had tried to kill him naturally could not escape death. Yin Yanxiu gave the man to his steed, Chi Yan. The screams echoed through the palace for a long time, and dark red blood pooled across the floor.
“Yaoyao, this is what happens to those who betray me. So… you must never betray me!”
He had pinned her in his arms at the time, and she fainted from fright halfway through the bloody scene.
When she woke that evening, the man’s tall figure stood by the bed, watching her coldly. He said with disdain, “So little backbone.”
Rong Yao was timid by nature, and Yin Yanxiu loved to frighten her. He claimed to despise her, yet every night he always liked to torment her in all sorts of inventive ways.
Deep down, Rong Yao feared him.
That night, after they had tangled together in passion, she lay collapsed on top of him, utterly spent, soft as melted spring water. She didn’t know where she suddenly found the courage, but she asked him why, when the Holy Sword had pierced his heart back then, he had emerged completely unharmed.
What had he said at the time?
Oh, she remembered.
His cool fingers gathered the long hair that had fallen across his chest, winding it around his fingertips to play with, and then he said with a soft laugh: “I am the sovereign of the Three Realms—what could a mere Holy Sword do to me? But Yaoyao, if you ever want to kill me, you can use the Abyss-Devouring Sword to end me with your own hands!”
“You’re not even afraid of the Holy Sword—would you really be afraid of the Abyss-Devouring Sword?”
…
“Yaobao… Yaobao!”
At Taotao’s calls, Rong Yao snapped back to her senses.
Taotao said, “Why did you take the Abyss-Devouring Sword out? That thing is a useless blade—the edge is incredibly dull. Forget killing anyone—it can’t even cut vegetables.”
Rong Yao had read about the Abyss-Devouring Sword in ancient texts. It was said the sword had been forged by the goddess You Ruo, and that back in the day, You Ruo had used it to slay and seal away the ancient evil dragon Cang Yuan.
After the goddess died, the sword drifted down into the mortal realm.
At first, the great sects had fought over it, offering fortunes. But they later discovered that the Abyss-Devouring Sword couldn’t wound anyone—it couldn’t even cut vegetables. It was nothing but a piece of scrap iron.
After passing through several hands, the sword was eventually retrieved by her master and had been kept in the storeroom of Pure Dust Palace ever since.
Rong Yao naturally knew that the Abyss-Devouring Sword could neither kill nor even injure anyone.
But in her past life, Yin Yanxiu really had told her the Abyss-Devouring Sword could kill him!
True or not, Rong Yao felt she had to try. For the Immortal Gate Sect, for all the living beings of the Three Realms to come—she had to kill Yin Yanxiu!
Before departing, her master had left her a stack of spiritual talismans. Rong Yao took one out and drew a Tracking Talisman.
Taotao rested her chin in her hands nearby, watching as she wrote three characters on the talisman—Yin Yanxiu.