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Unmatched Under Heaven — Chapter 49


Five thousand years—a span so long that the seas turn to mulberry fields, and everything in the world changes. But Han Nü's heart remained forever trapped in those five thousand years past. The people who had once sent her to the pyre were long dead, their bodies rotted to dust. In the remote village, their descendants lived, as well as many strangers unrelated to the past, and she had burned them all clean in a single fire.

She wasn't wrong—she should never have become a goddess. Though a deity's body and consciousness were immensely powerful, their hearts remained as fragile as any mortal’s. That’s why so many gods and goddesses fell to their human tribulations.

"I died here."

Han Nü slowly turned and walked toward the back, where once stood an old, dilapidated wooden house. Inside had lived a sister who believed herself to be happy and a younger sister with ulterior motives. The house had long since decayed in the passage of time, and the clearing was now overgrown with waist-high weeds and shrubs. Flames streamed from Han Nü's sleeve, igniting the entire mountainside in an instant.

"Now, it's all over."

The sky and earth were engulfed in flames as Han Nü’s face bore a strange smile, one that looked both exhausted and scheming.

"You shattered my divine consciousness, which I didn’t expect," she said softly. "But I won’t die—don’t be too pleased with yourself. I won’t die."

Tang Hua's body suddenly collapsed, and from above his head spiraled a humanoid, translucent red mist. It turned toward the burning village at the foot of the mountain, where countless unjustly dead souls lingered. Unable to enter the cycle of reincarnation just yet, they were drawn toward the mist and devoured one by one.

The more souls it consumed, the redder the mist grew, until it seemed like a mass of blood suspended in the air.

The blood mass churned and twisted, eventually taking on Han Nü's appearance. Her hair and eyes turned as red as blood, and the large hole in her chest slowly began to shrink. Han Nü looked down at the shrinking wound with glee and laughed wildly. "I won’t die! Wu Shuang, let me devour you! Your soul will surely taste even better than Tai He’s!"

Her form, now a mass of blood-red shadows, moved with such fluidity that her waving hands were indistinguishable from her clothing. The fire, sensing her demonic power, soared several meters higher, turning crimson like blood, and began to scorch Tan Yin’s body, consuming what little divine power she had left.

"Come… come to me…" A sweet voice lured her. "Tai He is waiting for you… inside me. You can reunite with him, and soon after, I’ll find that mortal immortal for you, too, and you’ll be together once more."

A mere mortal immortal—did she mean Yuan Zhong?!

Tan Yin’s heart sank like a stone. How many days had she been trapped in the tapestry? Had Han Nü, disguised as Tang Hua, gone to Mount Xiangqu? How could Yuan Zhong not have noticed? Did he find her? Did Han Nü kill him?!

"Tai He died for you, and yet you still think of that mortal immortal? Wu Shuang, how heartless you are," Han Nü’s voice was soft but dripping with venom. "That immortal—so fragile, like an ant. I crushed him so easily… Would you like to see how he died?"

No! She didn’t want to see!

But suddenly, the flames before her were obscured by countless threads, twisting and tangling together, slowly transforming into the landscape of Mount Xiangqu. Tang Hua, in his purple robes, stood at the peak, the very moment Tan Yin had been drawn into the tapestry.

A golden light descended swiftly from the sky and landed on the mountaintop. It was a man with long black hair and plain robes, wearing a forgettable mask—Yuan Zhong. His expression was cautious as he stared intently at Tang Hua. After a moment, he spoke, "You dare show yourself?"

Tang Hua smiled faintly, seemingly uninterested in conversation. He slowly tucked the tapestry into his sleeve, glanced at the sky, and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Yuan Zhong called out, his wariness growing. "Who are you?"

Tang Hua seemed surprised. "Oh? Why do you ask?"

Yuan Zhong stepped back, covering his nose, his voice low. "You smell like a corpse… Did you kill Tang Hua?"

Han Nü let out a surprised laugh. She had fooled even Tan Yin’s divine senses by possessing Tang Hua’s body, but she hadn’t deceived this little mortal immortal's nose. Looking down at Tang Hua's body, there was no blood, no wound—it was perfectly intact. How had he detected it?

As if reading her thoughts, Yuan Zhong calmly said, "The blood of the Youhu fox clan carries a distinct fragrance, a scent used to recognize each other. But once a person dies, the fragrance disappears. You have Tang Hua’s appearance but none of the scent. You’ve possessed his body… Could it be that you’re the goddess who wanted my left hand?"

"Impressive," Han Nü said, unable to help but applaud. "You are clever. Indeed, this immortal was killed by me so I could borrow his body for a time. Even as he died, he was grateful, feeling honored to have served a goddess. But you—you Youhu fox clan folk serve the gods, don’t you? Why aren't you kneeling?"

Yuan Zhong remained still, his expression unmoved. After a moment, he quietly asked, "Where is Tan Yin?"

Han Nü smiled. "Where do you think she is?"

This time, Yuan Zhong didn’t respond. He stared at the wide sleeve where she had placed the strange, massive tapestry he saw when she ascended the mountain. To become a celestial being, one had to be a mortal with extraordinary dedication and the determination to defy the heavens. Tan Yin was an unparalleled craftsman, and the person before him carried a tapestry—could it be that she was the celestial goddess renowned for her embroidery? Since she was a goddess, the tapestry couldn’t be an ordinary one. It might even be another small-scale world, similar to the Qiankun pouch.

Noticing that Yuan Zhong’s gaze lingered on the sleeve where she placed the tapestry, Han Nü’s surprise deepened. “...You’re truly clever, so much so that even I am astonished. Come, let me get a good look at you.”

With just a slight gesture of her finger, Yuan Zhong felt an overwhelming force pulling him toward her, one he could not resist. A sudden sense of foreboding gripped him, and his entire body transformed into a beam of golden light, breaking free from her control and retreating several steps.

“How impudent.” Han Nü frowned. “You see me, and neither kneel nor show respect? Is this how the Youhu clan serves the gods?”

“...You are no goddess,” Yuan Zhong replied, locking his gaze on her. “A goddess’s aura isn’t like this.”

She had forgotten—this immortal had spent considerable time close to an actual goddess, Tan Yin, and thus was able to discern the difference in the energy she emitted compared to Tan Yin’s.

Suddenly, Yuan Zhong rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, revealing a hand that was dark red, infused with divine symbols and the cold power of the Celestial River’s ice.

Han Nü chuckled. “What now? Do you plan to use that against me?”

He didn’t respond. He wasn’t arrogant, nor was he self-deprecating. Though the aura of the being before him was different from a goddess’s, it was terrifying and immense. Even if he were to risk his life—or if every immortal on Mount Xiangqu were gathered—they wouldn’t stand a chance against her. Acting recklessly would only result in him dying a pitiful death.

“You’ve always wanted this left hand.” Yuan Zhong stretched out his hand, his eyes steady as they met hers. “Take it, but return Tan Yin to me.”

Han Nü couldn’t hold back her laughter, her clothes fluttering as she laughed uncontrollably. “Me? Want your left hand? Hahaha! You poor fool, kept completely in the dark! Let me be kind and reveal the truth, so you can die with some understanding—I'm not the one who wants your left hand. It’s your beloved goddess, Wu Shuang. Do you know why? Because she wants to awaken the man she loves.”

“Your left hand belonged to a deity who lost it in the mortal realm—a deity named Tai He, who is the one your goddess loves. During the war between the gods and demons, he lost his left hand and fell into a state of power depletion, where he has been in a deep sleep for five thousand years. Your goddess couldn’t wait any longer, so she descended to find the left hand for him—that’s how she found you. You think she’s been protecting and staying with you because she loves you? Hmph... her goal has always been your left hand. She can’t forcefully cut it off, or it would disrupt the natural order, and Tai He would be obliterated. So, she waited, patiently accompanying you until your natural death, so she could then take your left hand and return it to Tai He. Do you understand now? Your goddess has been waiting for you to die.”

Yuan Zhong’s face turned pale, but his gaze remained unwavering as he stared at her. After a long silence, he finally whispered, “So what?”

Han Nü chuckled. “So what, indeed? I’ve told you the truth—it’s up to you how you want to handle it.”

She seemed to tire of the conversation and dropped her shoulders, her tone growing indifferent. “Since you love her so deeply, I should grant you two a reunion. Come! I’ll send you to meet her!”

She reached out, and Yuan Zhong once again felt the terrifying force rushing toward him. He quickly retreated, but a beam of black light shot from her sleeve, too fast and powerful for him to evade. His chest grew cold as a black dagger embedded itself deep in his heart—the very same god-killing dagger he had just returned to the master of Mount Xiangqu.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as Han Nü grew tired of toying with him. With a disdainful flick, she seized him by the throat. But the moment she lifted him, his body crumbled into dirt and stones, falling to the ground in a pile. Han Nü’s expression darkened as she brushed the debris from her sleeve and scanned the area. A patch of blood remained on the ground, fragrant and thick, but the lowly mortal immortal had vanished.

Quite the escape artist.

Her eyes gleamed with red light, and with a soft stamp of her foot, the entire mountain quivered slightly. Far in the distance, a muffled groan echoed—a sign that her strike had wounded him again. Without a deity to heal his body, his death was only a matter of time.

Han Nü had no interest in wasting further time on a mere mortal immortal. With a flicker, her form vanished from Mount Xiangqu. 

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