Chapter 39

“I like you, Shimei.”

Xie Lingyu was holding her so tightly that Sang Ying could hardly breathe, yet she didn’t push him away. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Xie Lingyu, you took so long to find me this time.”

“What if I had really turned into an old woman by the time you found me? My grave might even have grass growing over it by now.”

She complained, then laughed. “Luckily, I’ve already reached Foundation Establishment. That nasty old medicine man said I’d be at least seventy or eighty before I could achieve Foundation Establishment, but I managed it before I was forty, and now I’m already at the third level. Xie Lingyu, am I not amazing?”

“Xie Lingyu, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you listening?”

“I’m listening.”

The young man tightened his arms around her even more. Sang Ying, whose hands were trapped in front of her, struggled to free a finger and poked his cheek.

“Although… I know you might have missed me after being apart for so long, if you hug me any tighter, you’ll really be able to offer incense at my grave next year.”

Only then did the young man release her. Sang Ying let out a sigh of relief and was about to take half a step back when her hand was suddenly seized. His cool fingers slipped through the gaps between hers, locking them tightly together.

He held on firmly.

She was taken aback and looked up at him.

A hundred years was but a short time for a cultivator—perhaps just the span of a secluded retreat or a long nap.

The young man before her seemed unchanged in appearance, only slightly thinner, his dark eyes deeper. When he looked at her, they seemed to hold many complex emotions, though she couldn’t quite decipher them.

With one hand holding his sword, the young man severed the tree root that clung to the passage of time. Then, still holding her hand, he led her away from the small town where she had waited for a century.

Sang Ying gazed at his profile, suddenly feeling a sense of unreality.

In truth, toward the end, her memories had grown increasingly hazy. She couldn’t recall much, only that she was waiting for someone.

But she had no idea what that person was called or what he looked like.

Many people had urged her not to wait, telling her he wouldn’t come.

Yet she believed he would.

It wasn’t until recently, when the pendant on her collarbone grew scorching hot, that she suddenly remembered—the memories about him.

Her chest grew warm as well, the sound of her heart pounding uncontrollably drowning out everything else around her.

The stone bridge and rain curtain faded into the background behind them. A warm drop of water suddenly fell onto the back of her hand. Sang Ying saw the young man stop and turn to look at her, puzzled.

Only when she raised her eyes and saw her own small reflection in his dark pupils did she realize she was crying.

Large teardrops rolled down her cheeks. Sang Ying was stunned and raised her hand to wipe them away, but the more she wiped, the more tears fell, unstoppable.

Flustered and at a loss, she muttered, “Hey, what’s going on…”

Suddenly, her cheeks were cupped by the young man’s long fingers. The familiar scent of White Sandalwood enveloped her as he leaned down and gently kissed away the tears at the corner of her eye.

Pulling back slightly, he looked at her and said softly, “I’m sorry, Shimei. I came too late.”

“…”

Sang Ying suddenly grabbed his hand and bit down hard on the back of it. Tears pattered down as she said fiercely, “Xie Lingyu, why did you come so late? I waited for you for so, so long. Day after day, you never came. I hate you, I hate you…”

“I like you, Shimei.”

Sang Ying was taken aback, her tears suddenly stopping as a faint blush crept up to the tips of her ears. “Don’t think saying that will make me forgive you!”

“Mm.”

The young man took her hand and pressed it against his cheek, his voice low. “Shimei can punish me however she likes.”

The skin beneath her palm was warm. Sang Ying shifted her fingers uncomfortably. She didn’t want to hit him or scold him. She had waited a hundred years, but hadn’t he also spent a hundred years searching through countless worlds for her?

All she wanted now was to hold him, to kiss him, to spend a whole day clinging to him, just as he had once clung to her.

But she was too embarrassed to say any of that, unable to be as shameless as he was.

Sang Ying turned her face away with a soft huff, gave his cheek a light pat with her palm, and withdrew her hand. “We’ll talk about punishment when we get home. Don’t we have important matters to attend to now?”

Xie Lingyu led her outside, hand in hand. “The tree demon’s roots are already under my control. Now we just need to cut down the main trunk in the restricted zone.”

Sang Ying paused. Hadn’t it been said that even the great masters of Yaochi couldn’t resolve this time technique?

But in the next moment, she understood. Over this century, he must have found some method to break it. Otherwise, searching like looking for a needle in a haystack, given the number and reproduction speed of the roots, even another two hundred years probably wouldn’t have been enough to find her.

A hundred years had passed in the tree demon’s timeline, but in reality, only a single day had gone by.

As soon as she emerged, Sang Ying took out the now-restored Glazed Mirror to check. After looking, she breathed a sigh of relief. If a hundred years had passed here, who knew what chaos would have erupted back home.

She put away the Glazed Mirror and glanced around. The weather was mild and sunny. Beneath the thousand-branched Fate-Binding Tree, Qingying sat leaning against the trunk, giving them a cool, sweeping glance.

“I really did underestimate you.”

Seeing that a major battle seemed imminent, Sang Ying moved her hand. “Xie Lingyu, I’ll wait over there so I don’t get in your way.”

But the young man only tightened his grip on her fingers, his tone light. “It’s when Shimei isn’t by my side that I lose focus.”

Qingying stared at their clasped hands, an unreadable emotion flickering in her eyes as she sneered. “We know you’re in love. Must you flaunt it even in front of the enemy at a time like this?”

Not far away, Xu Baishen, who had been watching their reunion from a distance and followed them out after the roots dissipated, remained silent, quietly observing them.

Now that the tree demon was extremely weak and could no longer control emotions, all his memories had returned.

Before entering the secret realm, he had still doubted the authenticity of their feelings. After going through this ordeal, he no longer questioned it.

When he had lost his memory and thought Xie Lingyu was her lover, a dark thought had crossed his mind. Later, in the tree demon’s illusory timeline, that dark thought had come true.

They were separated for a hundred years, and he stayed by her side for a hundred years.

A hundred years was short for a cultivator, but it was her entire lifetime.

All the medical cultivators said she was unsuited for cultivation. At most, she could barely reach Foundation Establishment in her lifetime, and by then, her lifespan would be nearly over.

Yet she chose to exhaust her life in exchange for the possibility of achieving Foundation Establishment early.

He watched her train diligently every day, pushing her frail, sickly body to its limits, day after day.

She might have been delicate by nature before, but no matter how painful or difficult cultivation became, she never stopped.

He asked her why.

She gently wiped the sweat from her forehead and said, “If, when he finally finds me, all he can see is the grass on my grave and I can’t jump out to scold him, wouldn’t that be too pathetic?”

He thought she would give up eventually. He believed that by staying by her side when she forgot him, he might fulfill that dark desire—to be with her.

But one late night, when he saw through the window that she was still cultivating in the distance, suddenly coughing up blood in agony, only to wipe it away calmly and continue her practice, he knew it was impossible.

The one she loved was the person she had been waiting for all along.

Even if she might never see him again, she would never fall in love with someone else while waiting.

…

Sang Ying’s ears flushed faintly red at Qingying’s disdainful words, but she still followed Xie Lingyu’s lead and didn’t let go, tightening her grip on his fingers instead.

She lifted her small face and snorted, “What he said makes sense. What if you try to ambush us again?”

It was because she was afraid Qingying would cause trouble in secret—definitely not because she couldn’t bear to let go either!

Qingying fell silent for a moment. “I wouldn’t use the same trick twice.”

Sang Ying scoffed. “Who knows? You can never tell what someone with a twisted, dark mind might do.”

Qingying: “…”

“Oh, right. Hold off on fighting for a moment. I have something to show you.”

Sang Ying suddenly remembered something and lowered her head to retrieve an item from her Storage Ring. But as she reached out, she realized her right hand was being held, and her left hand wasn’t very nimble. So she immediately turned to the person beside her and ordered, “Xie Lingyu, help me look for it.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Just a scroll painting, a bit old.”

Xie Lingyu raised his hand and suddenly pulled out a Ten-thousand-year Mystic Iron Washboard, gleaming brightly, along with a Shopping Receipt.

After two seconds of silence, he spoke. “Doesn’t Jingxi wash all your clothes at home? Why did you buy this?”

Sang Ying narrowed her eyes at him and suddenly said, “Actually, it’s not Jingxi, is it? It’s you who does the washing.”

Xie Lingyu paused slightly.

Seeing this, Sang Ying understood and declared, “So it’s true! You were the one who secretly hid my inner clothes while doing the laundry!”

She had wondered for a long time how he had managed to sneak her clothes away without her noticing. Now it finally made sense.

Qingying: “…”

Xu Baishen: “…”

You two… really have some interesting hobbies.

Qingying remained silent for a few seconds. “You stopped me just to show me this?”

Sang Ying coughed lightly, quickly stuffed the washboard back, and snatched the scroll from the young man’s hand, unrolling it.

As the canvas unfurled, it revealed a painting of a Fate-Binding Tree. Beneath the red strings and wish plaques, a girl in a green dress leaned against the tree, taking a nap—a serene and beautiful scene.

Qingying froze at the sight of the painting, surprise flashing in her eyes before being replaced by intense disgust. She frowned tightly. “Where did you get this?”

Sang Ying shoved the painting into Xie Lingyu’s hands for him to hold while she gestured. “This painting? I saw it once during the New Year at a household in town. It’s said to have been left by their great-grandfather, and it depicts the woman he loved.”

Seeing Qingying’s disgusted expression, Sang Ying smiled cheerfully. “Don’t be in such a hurry. Let me finish.”

“I also heard a story from him. His great-grandfather was a scholar back then. While traveling to the capital for the imperial exams, he was robbed by bandits, injured, and ended up staying in Yaoshui Town for a while.”

“In order to save up travel expenses again, the scholar began working here as a teacher, instructing children in reading. One day, by chance, the scholar looked through the window and saw a woman resting beneath the Fate-Binding Tree on the opposite riverbank.”

“The scholar fell in love with this woman at first sight and painted the scene. Strangely, however, no one else in the town could see this woman—only the scholar could.”

“After that, every day, the scholar would gaze through the window at the opposite riverbank, hoping to catch another glimpse of the green-skirted maiden, but he was always disappointed.”

“Until one day, a month later, as he sighed by the window, the green-skirted maiden suddenly appeared, leaning on the windowsill, resting her chin in her hands, and asked, ‘Why do you keep staring at me? Are humans always this straightforward with the ones they like?'”

“It turned out this green-skirted maiden was a spirit born from the Fate-Binding Tree, having just taken human form…”

“Enough.”

Qingying coldly interrupted her, “I have nothing to say to him.”

“Fine, then let’s skip over this sweet, romantic part.”

Sang Ying signaled Xie Lingyu to put away the scroll. “In short, before the scholar left, he made a promise to his beloved: he would return to marry her once he had achieved something.”

Qingying sneered, “Sounds nice, but he never came back in two thousand years, married another woman, and even had children.”

“So that’s where the problem lies.”

Sang Ying scratched her head. “I wanted to ask, do you have any concept of a mortal’s lifespan?”

Qingying was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“For your long-lived tree clan, who can easily live for tens of thousands of years, a hundred years is just a nap, right?”

Qingying didn’t understand but hummed in agreement. What else could such a short time be used for, besides sleeping?

“But for mortals, that’s their entire lifetime.”

Sang Ying raised her hand and formed a Divination Hexagram, pausing for a moment. “The scholar died thirty-nine years after leaving, passing away peacefully of old age.”

Qingying froze, even feeling a bit dazed. “He… died?”

Sang Ying nodded. “Yes, that’s what the person who gave me this painting said.”

“Let me fill in the rest of the story for you. It’s quite simple. The scholar returned to Yaoshui Town five years later, but the green-skirted maiden was nowhere to be found. He settled in Yaoshui Town, lived his entire life, waited his entire life, and finally died beneath the tree.”

“The child he adopted followed his last wish and buried him beside the Thousand-Turn Fate-Binding Tree.”

“See, right here.”

Sang Ying raised her hand and pointed to the small tree beside the towering giant. “He was afraid you’d be lonely, so he planted a companion for you. Thoughtful, isn’t it?”

Qingying found it hard to believe, staring at the small tree. He… died?

She thought he had grown tired of her, broken his promise, and never returned. But it turned out he had died? In just a few decades, he was gone?

“You’re lying! Impossible!!”

“You’re even more stubborn than I am. Fine.” Sang Ying changed the hexagram, shaping it into the form of a Heaven’s Secret Mirror, revealing the scholar’s appearance before his death.

“…”

It was truly draining her Spiritual Power. Seeing that Qingying had seen enough, Sang Ying quickly withdrew it, exhaling weakly, feeling drained.

A warm stream of Spiritual Power flowed into her palm from Xie Lingyu, helping to ease her discomfort.

Xie Lingyu lowered his gaze to look at her. “Since you were going to die anyway, why work so hard for her?”

“What do you mean ‘for her’? This is called psychological warfare, okay!”

Sang Ying snorted heavily, turning her little face away and muttering, “She kept us apart for so long, and I’m really unhappy about it too. Of course I have to get back at her.”

Since Qingying had harmed them so much, how could she possibly have good intentions? She wasn’t some saint.

Xie Lingyu paused, “Leave such matters to me. There’s no need for you to take action yourself, junior sister.”

Sang Ying hummed softly, “You don’t understand. People like her are stubborn to the core. They say they hate, but deep down they still love desperately. Otherwise, why would she stubbornly stay here for two thousand years without moving an inch even when Yaochi tried to drive her away? Isn’t it because she’s still waiting for him to return?”

“For someone who cares so deeply about emotions, letting her know this truth is the most painful thing of all.”

Xie Lingyu: “…Junior sister’s wickedness is truly one of a kind.”

But it had to be said, Sang Ying’s revenge was remarkably effective. Qingying had clearly broken down. She had always believed he had broken his promise, hating him all these years while clinging to a faint hope that he would return.

Yet she had never considered that during their misaligned timelines, he had already returned and waited for her his entire life.

Those brief few decades were actually his whole life.

His… whole life.

The sunlight overhead suddenly dimmed. Sang Ying looked up to see a dark cloud flickering with lightning appearing in the sky, faintly emanating an intimidating aura.

“Is this… a Heavenly Tribulation?”

Xie Lingyu frowned, quickly pulling her out of the tribulation’s range. “It’s the Four-Nine Heavenly Tribulation.”

Sang Ying froze upon hearing these words, suddenly clenching her fingers.

When cultivators break through realms, they attract Heavenly Tribulations. Surviving the tribulation brings them one step closer to Ascension. Such tribulations have fixed numbers of thunder strikes. With the abundant cultivation experience in the current Cultivation World, even if one lacks the strength to pass, they usually don’t perish completely—most only suffer severe cultivation base regression or serious injuries.

But the Four-Nine Heavenly Tribulation differs from ordinary Heavenly Tribulations. It isn’t a one-time event. Cultivators at Spirit Transformation realm and above experience this tribulation every few hundred years.

There are only two ways to end it: first, Ascend to immortality; second, perish completely.

Otherwise, no matter where one hides, the tribulation thunder will strike.

Sang Ying’s father had died in the Four-Nine Heavenly Tribulation.

Xie Lingyu tightened his grip on her hand. “Junior sister.”

Sang Ying shook her head. “I’m fine.”

She looked at the distant Fate-Binding Tree. This thunder tribulation belonged to Qingying. Xu Baishen had also withdrawn, saying to them both, “The Four-Nine Heavenly Tribulation settles accounts for a cultivator’s good and evil deeds over centuries. Many wronged souls died here in earlier years. With all the evil she’s committed, she definitely won’t survive this thunder tribulation. The Heavenly Dao Cycle works—we don’t need to take action ourselves.”

Sang Ying simply watched the distant tribulation thunder striking down one bolt after another. The Fate-Binding Tree swayed precariously, wish plaques falling to the ground.

As the tribulation thunder surged in the distance, an indescribable feeling rose within her body. Her blood grew hot, as if being drawn or resonating. Sang Ying stared blankly, unconsciously taking steps forward.

The person beside her promptly pulled her back. “Junior sister.”

Xu Baishen also said, “Junior Sister Sang, it’s too dangerous.”

Only then did Sang Ying regain her senses, pressing a hand to her forehead. What had she been doing just now, actually wanting to walk into the tribulation range? Does this Heavenly Tribulation also have the ability to bewitch minds?

Already severely weakened by Xie Lingyu’s earlier attack, Qingying didn’t last long under the Four-Nine Heavenly Tribulation before the tribulation thunder ended.

The tree demon was dead, and nothing in the Yaochi Restricted Zone could hinder their departure anymore.

Xu Baishen bid farewell to the two. His original reason for entering this place was to search for his younger sister. Since Xu Xuan was not here, he still needed to look elsewhere in the secret realm.

Sang Ying looked over. The once lush Fate-Binding Tree had collapsed with a thunderous crash, its trunk reduced to ashes by the Heavenly Tribulation. Yet, several charred roots had protected the small sapling.

Sang Ying picked up a piece of bark beside the sapling, also scorched black, and saw the words that had been hidden behind Qingying that day.

—My beloved wife, Yingying.

Sang Ying pursed her lips. If they hadn’t missed each other, perhaps the outcome would have been different now.

Just like, if she hadn’t persevered, she wouldn’t be seeing Xie Lingyu now. Fortunately, they were still together now, and could still be together.

Alright.

With everything resolved, it was time to settle accounts with Xie Lingyu!

Hiding from her the plan to replace his meridians, secretly stashing away private funds… adding up each matter, she was going to punish him severely this time!

Just as Sang Ying was about to turn around, a sudden weight pressed down on her—the young man had collapsed onto her.

She was stunned for a moment. With her strength, how could she support him? She was immediately pressed down and sat on the ground. Looking up, she saw the young man with his eyes tightly shut, his forehead covered in cold sweat, his face pale, leaning weakly against her.

Sang Ying instantly grew anxious. “Xie Lingyu? What’s wrong, Xie Lingyu?”

“Nothing too serious. He just forcibly used the Blood Sacrifice Art beyond his cultivation level, broke a few ribs and meridians, dropped several cultivation stages, and exhausted a century’s worth of Divine Sense and mental energy searching for you. He won’t die.”

Shen Ying floated over sitting on a cloud, calmly brushing off melon seed shells. With a wave of her hand, bandages spontaneously wrapped around the young man. She then tossed a few bottles of elixirs to Sang Ying. “Feed him these, and he’ll be fine. The rest will heal slowly.”

Sang Ying hurriedly fed the elixirs to Xie Lingyu. Seeing his complexion improve slightly, she breathed a sigh of relief.

As she prepared to leave with Xie Lingyu, Shen Ying reminded her, “In his current state, how can he protect you in the Cultivation World? It’s quiet and undisturbed here. You two should stay and recuperate peacefully. Leave when the secret realm is about to close.”

Sang Ying said softly, “Thank you.”

Shen Ying: “The medical fee is one hundred thousand Spirit Stones. Boss, would you like to pay now or swipe your card?”

Sang Ying: “…”

—

With Qingying’s spell broken, the surrounding environment reverted to the weathered, dilapidated state of Yaoshui Town.

Sang Ying tried following the path and actually managed to find the residence she had once lived in.

The layout inside remained unchanged from when she had left. Sang Ying tidied up a room and laid the unconscious Xie Lingyu on the bed.

For some reason, even though he was unconscious, his hand was clenched tightly. Sang Ying couldn’t break free at all and could only stay by his side.

As she stayed with him, Sang Ying unknowingly fell asleep as well.

When she woke again, feeling dazed, she sensed herself being held tightly, firmly embraced in someone’s arms.

Something also seemed to be wrapped around her legs, like a puppy’s tail, clinging to her and rubbing restlessly.

Sang Ying was roused by the rubbing. Opening her eyes, she saw the young man burying his face in the crook of her neck, holding her tightly.

As if sensing she was awake, the young man lifted his head. His dark, beautiful eyes met hers at close range, staring intently as if confirming her presence.

The Dragon Tail wrapped around her legs shifted slightly, its fluffy tip brushing against the small of her back.

His cool, slender fingers gently cupped her face, about to lean in for a kiss, his breath brushing against her cheek.

Sang Ying, her mind hazy, instinctively pushed away the young man holding her before he could kiss her, pinning him down on the bedboard in a swift move.

“Where did this scoundrel come from, daring to climb into my bed!”

Xie Lingyu: “…”