Chapter 1002: Blood-Stained Northern Tremor Plains

Kill!

In the dark heavens and earth, the cries of battle shook the skies.

The Heavenly Court army charged into Beizhen Cangyuan from all sides, clashing fiercely with the Heavenly Demon army.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Blood splattered everywhere, staining the vast sky red. From the very start of the engagement, the Heavenly Court army suffered devastating losses.

After all, they were facing supreme experts whose powers had been suppressed. Before the suppression, even the weakest among them were at the Tianjing realm. Even though the Heavenly Demon army was now restricted to the same level as their opponents, their combat strength was on an entirely different level.

Kill!

Fortunately, reinforcements from various Heavenly Court factions arrived from all directions, and the descendants of the emperors joined the fight. Even so, the cultivators of Da Chu were still falling in droves, turning to ash.

Ye Chen charged in like a streak of dazzling light, his aura overwhelmingly powerful. Clad in the Huntian battle armor, with the Chaos God Cauldron hovering above his head and the Blood Spirit God Blade in his hand, he trampled through a sea of demonic energy, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Following him, Taixu Gulong, Zixuan, Ji Ningshuang, Liu Yi, and Zhou Ao also plunged into the battle, barely managing to stabilize the situation.

“Where are the people from Haotian Shijia?” Ye Chen asked, splitting a demon soldier in half with one strike and saving a disciple from Beihai Shijia.

“They… they’re surrounded at Cangmang Mountain.”

“Retreat from Beizhen Cangyuan and head south.” Ye Chen set the disciple down and swept his blade across a swath of enemies, then rushed toward Cangmang Mountain in Beizhen Cangyuan. He moved like an invincible war god, unstoppable by anyone.

Ever since Da Chu was unified, families like Haotian Shijia, just like Muyun Shijia, Ouyang Shijia, and Nangong Shijia, had moved back from Nanchu to Beichu. The older generations were deeply attached to their homeland.

At the time, he hadn’t opposed it.

Back then, all of Da Chu was under the Heavenly Court’s domain, so whether in Nanchu or Beichu, places like Haotian Shijia or Nangong Shijia were all vassals under the Heavenly Court’s rule.

But now, he regretted it deeply. He shouldn’t have let Haotian Shijia return to their ancestral land, or they wouldn’t be facing such tragedy.

Though he still harbored some resentment toward Haotian Shijia, time might have eroded it all. He was starting to accept them, but only amid the chaos of Beizhen Cangyuan.

In the void of the sky, the people of Xuan Tian Shijia fought desperately.

The older cultivators of Xuan Tian Shijia were giving their all, striving to carve a path of survival for the younger generation.

Hold on! Hold on!

Wei Wenzhuo was covered in blood, carrying Dongfang Yuyan, who was also drenched in it. She had suffered a devastating blow—a finger had pierced through her forehead, and her life soul was crumbling, its flame of existence fading away.

“Wei Wenzhuo, after a thousand years… will you still remember me?”

Dongfang Yuyan’s eyes were dim and unfocused, her expression dazed. She smiled sadly, and as soon as she finished speaking, fresh blood poured from her mouth, soaking his clothes.

“I will, I will.”

Wei Wenzhuo’s body trembled, his eyes brimming with tears.

“I… I should feel lucky. In my best years, I met the person I love… love the most.”

“You won’t have to wait too long.”

“I’ll carve your name on the Naihe Bridge, write down my wishes… and beg the heavens to bless my beloved, so he won’t forget the past, won’t forget Dongfang Yuyan.”

Dongfang Yuyan’s words came out haltingly, barely audible, as if she were using her last bit of strength. Yet she couldn’t finish before her cheek gently rested against his back, two trails of sorrowful tears streaming down.

“I’ll kneel before the Buddha to renew our fate.”

Wei Wenzhuo kept speaking, his smile mixed with tears. Even though he knew she couldn’t hear him anymore, he continued, “In the next life, I’ll lift your red veil. We’ll have a house full of children.”

Ah!

Watching Wei Wenzhuo like this, the Xuan Tian Shijia elders still fighting sighed heavily.

Boom!

Ahead, a dense swarm of demon soldiers was cleared by a single sword strike. Qian Shang Yue had broken through, saving the people of Xuan Tian Shijia, but it was too late for Dongfang Yuyan. This was war, and even with pity in her heart, she had no time to dwell on it.

Ten Thousand Swords United!

In Dongfang Xuntian, a chorus of swords rang out, and demon soldiers fell in waves wherever they passed.

The one attacking was Ji Ningshuang, using a divine ability created by Ye Chen himself. This was a perfect group attack technique for the situation.

If Ye Chen was like a supreme war god, then she was like a majestic queen, her path unblocked by anyone as she carved a bloody trail and landed on a mountain peak.

On the mountain peak, there were thirty or fifty figures, all female elders from Qixi Palace, protecting their saintess.

Xu Nuoyan’s injuries were severe, no better than Dongfang Yuyan’s. Her soul was badly damaged, and if not for the strong soul force of a master refiner, she would have already dissipated. Even so, her soul continued to crumble uncontrollably.

Go!

Ji Ningshuang hoisted Xu Nuoyan onto her back and fought alongside the female elders of Qixi Palace to break out from the mountain.

“The heavens… are still fair.”

Xu Nuoyan’s cheek pressed against Ji Ningshuang’s back, her smile tinged with sadness.

Ji Ningshuang furrowed her brows slightly but said nothing, continuing to swing the Xuanling Divine Sword and sweep away the approaching demon soldiers.

“You’re still dressed as a man… just as handsome as in my memories.”

Behind her, Xu Nuoyan murmured softly, her gaze wandering, the light in her eyes fading.

“Ji Wuchen, in the next life, if you’re a man… will you marry me?”

She laughed foolishly, her voice full of tenderness, saying words a woman shouldn’t say to another woman.

Hearing this, Ji Ningshuang’s body shuddered, and her sword stroke faltered, nearly getting her seriously injured.

Perhaps only now did she truly understand Xu Nuoyan’s feelings.

It was all the heavens’ doing—fate had made her dress as a man, and they had met in Dan City. This infatuated woman had fallen for her disguised self.

How could the heavens be fair? They wove destinies and toyed with the mortal world. There was no Ji Wuchen in reality, just a name that didn’t exist, yet it had to be etched into a woman’s soul until her dying breath, a promise for the next life.

The murmurs from behind faded. Xu Nuoyan’s eyes, which she had been reluctant to close, trembled shut at last, leaving only two streaks of sorrowful tears across her sad face—a romance manipulated by the heavens.

Ji Ningshuang fell silent, her heart filled with guilt. It was she who had left this wound in the mortal world for the one on her back.

Ah!

With a quiet sigh, she leaped across the void, slaying a demon soldier and breaking through the encirclement.

Ah!

In a temple to the Matchmaker God stained with blood, Fuling and the old Zhuge man also sighed.

Before them stood an ancient, withered tree, draped with red strings of varying lengths. Each string held a small wooden plaque, and on each plaque were carved two names.

Beneath the tree, a woman lay slumped on one side and a young man on the other. They hadn’t wanted to meet like this, yet they held hands—one in white robes, the other in wedding attire. One was Li Zhang, the other Haotian Shixue.

Today should have been their wedding day, but with the Heavenly Demon invasion, their joyous occasion had turned into a funeral.

Zhuge Laotou and Fuling turned away, not attempting to save them. This couple was on the brink of death; even a Daluo Jinxian couldn’t bring them back.

“I hope… in the next life, we’re still husband and wife.”

Li Zhang smiled wearily, the last glimmer in his eyes fading away.

“I’ll wait for you under the Matchmaker God tree.”

Haotian Shixue smiled tenderly, her face tilting down. Her beautiful eyes, full of tears, slowly closed, shedding her final tears in the mortal world.

Ah!

Fuling and Zhuge Laotou sighed again, gently lifting the two and burying them under the Matchmaker God tree.

Perhaps this was their best resting place—to accompany each other in the underworld, hand in hand across the Naihe Bridge, where Meng Po’s soup would be their wedding wine. Guarding the Matchmaker God tree, may they grow old together in the next life.

Zhuge Laotou and Fuling left, but on the Matchmaker God tree, two flowers bloomed—one named Li Zhang, the other Shixue.