In the days following the severing of Tai He's left hand, they barely saw each other, and Tan Yin didn’t even notice anything wrong with him. When he announced that he would form a union with Han Nü, she began to avoid him even more.
The scenes constantly shifted—sometimes showing Tai He alone indoors, gently touching his severed arm, and other times showing Han Nü, arm-in-arm with Tai He like a victor, standing before Tan Yin as he announced his union with Han Nü.
After Tan Yin left, Tai He's body dissolved into countless threads, which Han Nü gathered into her hands.
So, all of this was false, too.
Tan Yin suddenly felt a bitter urge to laugh. So much had happened without her knowing, and everything she had thought was normal turned out to be a complete tragedy. Tai He had long since died, his soul scattered, and his body had been preserved only because it was sealed inside the divine crystal for five thousand years.
How many times had she sat by the crystal, reminiscing about his smile? How many times had she sighed at the sight of his empty left hand? Perhaps she had even blamed him—why had he selfishly chosen to sleep while she waited alone for so long? He had said nothing. No one had told her. No one.
Foolish man, and wasn’t she a foolish woman too?
“…You waited five thousand years, urging me to descend and retrieve Tai He’s left hand, all for this day?”
Tan Yin asked Han Nü quietly. Han Nü didn’t respond, but the answer was already clear. Tan Yin’s feelings for Tai He weren’t enough to trigger her mortal tribulation. Revealing her demonic transformation too early wouldn’t have benefited Han Nü. Instead, she had tormented Tan Yin, inflicting pain, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver a fatal blow—and she had succeeded.
Tan Yin removed her gloves. There was no longer any need for them. Both her forearms had already turned into translucent particles of light. Soon, the effect would spread to her upper arms, shoulders... and then, like Tai He, her soul would disperse entirely.
Beyond the transparent wall, Tan Yin saw herself sealing Tai He's body into the divine crystal. His left hand had already begun to disintegrate—those shimmering particles of divine power. She had thought it was just the energy leaking from his wounds, unaware of the truth. Quietly, she had sealed his divine body.
In the empty Tai He Hall, all was silent. But soon, another figure appeared before the divine crystal—it was Han Nü. She looked up at the flawless crystal as if admiring a painting, then smiled softly and said, “I don’t believe you’re really sleeping, Tai He. Where are you hiding your divine consciousness?”
Like someone playing hide-and-seek, she circled the hall, calling out softly, “Tai He, where are you hiding? Come out now.”
Tan Yin felt a chill run down her spine. The gentler Han Nü’s voice, the warmer her smile, the stronger this feeling grew. Tan Yin crouched down, covering her ears tightly. She didn’t know if she had the courage to witness the rest.
From behind the divine crystal, Tai He’s divine consciousness slowly emerged. His face was expressionless, his eyes cold as fractured ice, staring at Han Nü with indifference and wariness. She smiled, her eyes narrowing in delight. “I knew it. How could you possibly rest easy in sleep?”
Tai He watched her quietly and suddenly spoke. “You’re strange.”
“Oh?” Han Nü responded, feigning surprise. “What’s strange about me?”
Tai He slowly smiled but said nothing. Han Nü, intrigued, asked, “What exactly is strange? Is it because I care too much about Wu Shuang? Or is it because I kept getting in between the two of you? You were brought to your mortal tribulation because of Wu Shuang, and now you blame me for it? Do you suspect that I’ve been meddling with something?”
Tai He replied calmly, “I was just saying that the fluctuations in your divine consciousness are strange. You’ve said so much—are you feeling guilty?”
For a rare moment, Han Nü’s expression showed embarrassment and frustration. She had asked so many questions first to gain the upper hand, but in doing so, had revealed her own insecurity. Perhaps everything had gone too smoothly before, making her arrogant.
Tai He turned his head slightly. “It seems you've meddled quite a lot in matters between me and Tan Yin.”
Han Nü didn’t respond. Slowly, she began to back away, as if planning to leave the hall. Suddenly, there was a loud crack—her heel had stepped on a thin layer of ice. Her expression froze. Without her realizing it, the entire hall had filled with ice, the cold blue ice creeping up from her heel to her legs, freezing her in place.
“Trying to run?” Tai He’s divine consciousness appeared before her, his gaze dark and piercing. “Han Nü, the fluctuations in your divine consciousness are the signs of demonic transformation. You are strange.”
Han Nü forced a smile. “Oh? Did you just notice, or have you known for a while? Looks like you’re a bit more useful than I thought.”
“Don’t forget, I’ve killed more demons than you’ve seen gods,” Tai He replied, gently touching his empty left hand, his voice low. “I knew you’d come after I fell into slumber. Now that you’re here, don’t think of leaving.”
“What can you do without your left hand?” Han Nü taunted, confident in her safety.
With a wave of his long sleeve, Tai He summoned thick ice that instantly engulfed her body. “I don’t need my left hand to deal with you.”
Han Nü’s body was encased in the cold ice of the Celestial River, unable to move. Tai He, weary, turned to call for the assembly of the gods, when suddenly a startled voice cried out from behind him—it was Tan Yin’s voice.
“Tai He?!” Tan Yin rushed in, panic-stricken. Seeing the hall filled with ice and Han Nü frozen like a statue, she was even more shocked. “What’s happened? Han Nü… this…”
Tai He spoke gently, “Don’t panic. Wait a moment.”
Tan Yin hurriedly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “What’s going on? Why did you attack Han Nü? Don’t you… don’t you love her?”
Tai He gave a bitter smile. “Are you really that stupid?”
Tan Yin stood there, stunned, unable to respond for a moment.
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