Chapter 1380: Yaodchi

"Yaó Chī," Ye Chén murmured.

As he spoke, Chǔ Língyù arrived gracefully. Her expression was indifferent, showing no emotional fluctuations.

"Kill her!"

Perhaps sensing that Chǔ Língyù was no ordinary quasi-saint, the nine saints attacked together, each forming divine secret techniques—lethal arts that bore down from the heavens toward Chǔ Língyù.

Chǔ Língyù said nothing. She took a step forward and vanished in an instant, evading the nine quasi-saints' suppression. When she reappeared, she was ethereal and illusory. With a light wave of her jade arm, she traced out a celestial river, infused with supreme Dào laws, illuminating the starry sky. The nine saints were instantly engulfed.

"Break!"

The nine saints were no pushovers; they united to activate a pitch-black, icy divine blade.

It was a fearsome quasi-saint king weapon, still stained with fresh blood from countless slain beings. As it was unleashed, vengeful ghosts wailed, its power immense. The blade cleaved through the celestial river, shattering even the vast starry expanse.

Chǔ Língyù remained silent, stepping lightly like a lotus and advancing on a blood-haired saint. She extended her crystalline jade fingers, sword energy swirling around them, radiant yet destructive. The saint was obliterated on the spot.

At the sight, the remaining eight saints' expressions changed dramatically.

In that moment, Chǔ Língyù struck again, her form elusive as a phantom. By the time she withdrew, the second saint had turned to ash, their primordial spirit unable to escape doom, not even uttering a scream.

What followed was terrifying: wherever Chǔ Língyù went, a saint was extinguished, none lasting more than a single move against her. Even Qí Wáng stared in stunned disbelief.

Blood stained the starry sky, and amid the mist of gore, the last saint met their inevitable fate.

Only then did Chǔ Língyù descend gracefully from the void, approaching slowly. She furrowed her brows slightly as she looked at Jì Níngshuāng, as if recognizing her or sensing something amiss.

Shifting her gaze from Jì Níngshuāng, she turned to Ye Chén at her side, her brows furrowing even deeper. She wondered why Ye Chén had provoked the heavens, and his heavenly tribulation was even stronger than Jì Níngshuāng's.

Upon seeing Ye Chén's face, her mind flickered with a momentary daze, a sense of familiarity arising, as if she had met him before but couldn't recall where. She only knew he looked very familiar.

"I said, beauty, how about untying my restraints first?"

Qí Wáng looked at Chǔ Língyù eagerly. She had casually dispatched nine saints, yet he was still bound by the sealing secret technique.

Chǔ Língyù didn't speak, glancing at Ye Chén while casually waving her hand to dispel Qí Wáng's restraints.

"I just knew it—old Donkey me has heavenly luck on my side." Qí Wáng grinned shamelessly, flailing his four donkey hooves as he leaped about in the void, utterly unrestrained.

"Now, hand over the treasure."

After wandering around, he finally returned, his donkey eyes fixed greedily on Ye Chén's storage pouch. "If it weren't for me this time, you'd be done for. I won't ask for payment—just give back my storage bell."

"You'll get your share."

Ye Chén transmitted a message, then fell silent again, his divine sense glancing at Chǔ Língyù. She still stood there, quietly watching him.

Night fell into tranquility once more.

Chǔ Língyù had set up a barrier around this realm to prevent any further disturbances.

As for Ye Chén and Jì Níngshuāng, their expressions were no longer as pained. Having endured the most difficult phase, they were now like withered grass reviving—it was only a matter of time before they fully recovered.

Late into the night, the two finally opened their eyes, exhaling a turbid breath.

"I nearly knelt to it."

Ye Chén twisted his neck vigorously and sprang to his feet.

"A close call, but we made it."

Jì Níngshuāng smiled faintly. "Here's hoping we're this lucky next time."

"Yaó Chī, you've gone too far."

Chǔ Língyù finally spoke, her eyes filled with concern.

"Yaó Chī?"

Ye Chén was stunned, instinctively turning his head with a look of surprise as he gazed at Jì Níngshuāng.

"How is it? We've already shared a bed, and you don't recognize me?"

Jì Níngshuāng blinked her beautiful eyes.

"Maybe it was just too dark that night."

Ye Chén coughed awkwardly, feeling as if he'd been struck by lightning. He hadn't realized that the reincarnated Jì Níngshuāng was the legendary Eastern God.

*No wonder she has such overwhelming power.*

As he thought about it, Ye Chén covered his forehead. *No wonder she invited me home for peaches—those so-called peaches are the pán táo from Yaó Chī's sacred land. I should have figured it out. Eastern God Yaó Chī, this is damn awkward.*

"Eastern God Yaó Chī nearly scared the piss out of me."

Qí Wáng smacked his lips and stared at Jì Níngshuāng in astonishment. "If this fairy hadn't said it, I wouldn't have known there was such a great deity right beside me."

"Well, you never asked!"

"I've decided—I'm going back to your place for peaches."

"Have we met somewhere before?"

As the two conversed, Chǔ Língyù fixed her gaze on Ye Chén again.

"We've met, of course we have."

Ye Chén smiled and summoned a beam of immortal light, sending it into her brow.

Immediately, Chǔ Língyù's body trembled, and she staggered in place, letting out a pained groan.

Qí Wáng was taken aback, unsure what Ye Chén had done to Chǔ Língyù.

"What did you do to her?"

Jì Níngshuāng frowned, turning to Ye Chén.

"Nothing much—just helping her clear her mind."

Ye Chén pulled out a wine flask, and while doing so, he discreetly glanced at Jì Níngshuāng's sea of consciousness. The memory immortal light he had implanted there earlier was still wandering aimlessly, like it was lost and couldn't find an exit.

Jì Níngshuāng fell silent, her clear eyes shimmering with holy immortal light as she stared at Chǔ Língyù—or more precisely, at her sea of consciousness. It seemed she could see the drifting memory immortal light causing the pain, though she didn't know what it was.

Ye Chén also fell silent, sipping his wine while subtly observing Jì Níngshuāng.

He still couldn't understand why the memory immortal light worked on Chǔ Língyù but not on Jì Níngshuāng. Everything about this was too strange; he couldn't pinpoint the issue.

"Ah!"

Chǔ Língyù continued to groan in pain. As the memory immortal light integrated, a sealed segment of her memories slowly unraveled. She recalled her past life and events, as well as the name from that previous existence.

Suddenly, her beautiful eyes filled with mist, condensing into frost under the pale moonlight. She stared dazedly at Ye Chén, as if seeing the figure from her ancient past through him.

Everything felt like a dream, ancient and distant, blurring the line between reality and illusion for her.

A breeze stirred, lifting her long hair and prompting her to raise a trembling jade hand, gently caressing Ye Chén's face. She gazed at him with utter fascination, her vision blurred by tears.

Her memories had unlocked, bringing back those ancient sorrows—a love marred by wounds and scars. To her, the past was a tapestry of tragedy, and even the confusion and shock of reincarnation couldn't overshadow that thread of mortal sadness.

Ye Chén didn't move, allowing Chǔ Língyù to touch his face. He knew she wasn't touching him, but the one he resembled—Hóng Chén. It was just their uncanny resemblance.

Witnessing this, Qí Wáng was baffled.

Even Jì Níngshuāng was stunned; in her memories, this was the first time she had seen the disciple of the All Heavens Sword God display such a sorrowful and beautiful expression. It tugged at the heart.

What puzzled her most was that Ye Chén seemed to know the disciple of the All Heavens Sword God, and their relationship appeared unusually close—otherwise, why would she touch his face?

Only after some time did Chǔ Língyù lower her hand, laughing in a daze, the tears sliding down her cheeks carrying a touch of melancholy.

"The world no longer has Hóng Chén, so why make me remember such heartbreak?"

"Are you just overcome with grief?"

Ye Chén smiled faintly. "Or are you still trapped in the pain of the past, to the point that you've cried and laughed without even asking about him?"

At these words, Chǔ Língyù suddenly lifted her face, her tear-filled eyes gazing at Ye Chén with hope. Since she could reincarnate, why couldn't Hóng Chén be reborn as well?

She had been so overwhelmed by grief that, after her memories awakened, she had been lost in thoughts of past tragedies and forgotten to ask Ye Chén if her husband was still alive, just as she was.

"This world still has Hóng Chén."

Seeing the hope in Chǔ Língyù's eyes, Ye Chén smiled again.