Her cold fingers teasingly brushed across his lips. She felt his body stiffen.
Then, she slid her arms around his neck, deliberately lowering her voice.
“But even if you do like me, an immortal and a mortal can never be together. You’re the Zhong Tian King—aren’t you afraid of divine retribution?”
He looked at her in silence.
She lifted his hand from her waist, guiding it gently to her face, rubbing against it.
“Or are you just like Lu Jiu—coming down to the mortal realm for a bit of amusement?”
He pulled his hand away.
"What a pity—I don’t like you anymore."
She stepped away from his embrace, smiling. "I despise immortals."
He stood there, watching as she walked farther and farther away. His phoenix eyes remained expressionless.
For a hundred thousand years, he had ruled over the Middle Heaven. The recklessness of youth had long faded, replaced by caution, calculation, and absolute control—over everything, including himself. He had foreseen the danger of what was unfolding, had known that when she faced her tribulation of love, he could have stopped it, could have kept her by his side.
With him accompanying her, she never would have suffered from this tribulation.
Yet, to protect himself, he had chosen to do nothing.
He had convinced himself that she was merely young and reckless, that her presence and pursuit were nothing more than a fleeting amusement in his otherwise lonely life in the Hall of Blossoming Dawn. So he had pushed her away.
If it wasn’t her tribulation, then one day, it would become his.
He had saved himself—only to be left with a thousand years of guilt.
She was still the same reckless little demon, and he was still the famed Zhong Tian King.
The only difference was—she had forgotten him.
But forgetting didn’t matter. She could remember again.
And if she could truly understand, would that not be her final release?
The rain poured harder. The road was muddy. That frail figure staggered forward, swaying unsteadily. Finally, after a few more steps, she lost her footing and collapsed at the edge of the forest.
Instinctively, he took a step forward.
A sudden commotion erupted.
A group of riders appeared at the forest’s edge as if they had descended from the heavens. Mounted on horseback were over a dozen guards, dressed in blue and black, armed with blades—bodyguards, it seemed. Behind them were several unarmed attendants, and in the center of the group stood a red-lacquered carriage.
Lying in the mud, Hong Ning’s mind felt heavy, caught between resignation and unwillingness.
Challenging the immortals had always been a laughable endeavor.
And yet, to have lost so completely…
Over a year of effort, and now she was left in such a wretched state.
She had to leave.
That was the only thought left in her mind as she struggled to push herself up from the mud.
But after recovering from a severe illness, then being drenched in the rain, her strength had already been drained. No matter how much she tried, she could not rise. She could only remain there, gasping for breath.
A pair of pristine white satin boots entered her field of vision.
Exquisitely crafted, the boots were lined with golden embroidery, inlaid with a few scattered gemstones.
Anyone with even a bit of knowledge would recognize that this was no ordinary satin—this material was of the finest quality, far beyond anything sold on the market. The price must have been astronomical.
More than that, white satin stained easily. Once dirtied, restoring it to its original brilliance would be nearly impossible.
Yet at this moment, the owner of these boots did not seem to care in the slightest, allowing them to soak in the muddy water.
Wearing such shoes in the rain instead of wooden clogs—such extravagance could only be described as excessive.
Not here.
With the last remnants of her consciousness, Hong Ning clung tightly to that leg, her voice weak but unwavering.
"Go. Take me with you."
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