Chapter 1684: Luochuan Mountain Manor

This was a mountain manor, shrouded in mist and enveloped in swirling vapors.

Known as Luochuan, it was a scenic spot in the underworld, surrounded by water on all sides, hazy and dreamlike, with faint glimpses of dazzling phenomena.

Today, Luochuan was exceptionally lively, adorned with red silk and covered in red carpets, vibrant and overwhelming like a sea of crimson.

Indeed, this was the place where Chu Ling and Yao Shun were to be married.

From the vast sky, figures descended one after another, all invited to attend the wedding ceremony, each carrying gifts as tokens of congratulations.

On the mountain, crowds bustled about, with jade stone tables arranged in an orderly fashion, each laden with exquisite fruits and fine wines.

There was plenty of polite bowing and small talk; those who knew each other selected a table, and with the ceremony yet to begin, they chatted animatedly, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

"So, what's the background of this Yao Shun?" A group of veteran underworld generals gathered at one table, hands tucked in their sleeves as they surveyed their surroundings.

"I'd like to know too." Someone sighed. "He even managed to invite someone of the Tianming Jiang rank—that's a quasi-emperor level expert!"

"This face-saving is on par with Yan Luo." Many stroked their beards. "Just how astonishing must Yao Shun's identity be!"

While the outside was bustling, a secluded villa within the mountain remained utterly tranquil.

Chu Ling stood by the railing, quietly gazing toward the entrance of the mountain manor.

Her heart was in turmoil, longing for Ye Chen to come, as she hadn't seen him in days and missed him dearly, wondering if he was safe.

Yet, she also hoped he wouldn't come, for watching the one she loved marry another would be heart-wrenching agony.

This grand event was truly cruel, a trial of emotions for him, a tribulation where passing or failing would bring only pain.

In the haze, she spotted a figure approaching, dressed in plain robes with flowing white hair, ascending the stone steps one by one.

It was Ye Chen; he had come after all, his demeanor so calm it seemed he barely breathed.

Chu Ling burst into tears, covering her mouth with her hand. Through the misty clouds, she could almost make out his face, weathered and haggard, evoking deep sympathy.

She had seen that expression before, back when Chu Xuan had died—he looked as if his soul had departed, like a lifeless puppet.

She couldn't imagine how much pain Ye Chen must be feeling to come here.

With Ye Chen's arrival, Luochuan Mountain Manor grew even more lively, though he was just a junior, drawing the attention of everyone present.

"The Holy Body actually came? Is he here to torment himself?" Someone remarked with surprise, hands tucked away.

"Such mental fortitude is no ordinary feat; it's truly impressive."

"He wouldn't cause a scene, would he?" Someone stroked his chin. "With an emperor as his backer, he could do anything."

"You know, it's entirely possible." Many sat up straight, their eyes gleaming with excitement, sensing a major drama unfolding.

After all, who was the Holy Body? If he stirred things up, it would surely turn the world upside down.

In the past half-year, from disrupting the cycle of reincarnation to devouring fates in the sinful sea, his actions had grown bolder each time, and people had grown accustomed to it.

Now, with so many attendees, including Tianming Jiang experts, if a commotion erupted, the spectacle would be quite entertaining.

Amid the discussions, Ye Chen passed by quietly, his expression serene.

He went to a corner and chose the most unobtrusive table, sitting still like a carved stone statue, unmoving.

His eyes were somewhat dull and vacant.

He wasn't here to cause trouble. If Chu Ling still had feelings for him, no one could stop it; one word from her, and he would face death without regret.

But since Chu Ling no longer held him in her heart, what good would making a scene do? Even if he snatched her away, she would be nothing more than a heartless puppet.

Perhaps no one would believe it, but this time, he had come to offer his blessings. Their past affections were over; clinging to them was futile.

Causing chaos would only strip away his last shred of dignity.

His presence made even the quasi-emperor level experts show a hint of surprise.

The old-timers could see that Ye Chen had no intention of stirring up trouble; if he were here to cause a scene, he wouldn't be so composed.

His state of mind and courage truly made them feel ashamed.

If it were them in his place, they couldn't have endured it—they would have long since gathered a group and charged in to wreck the event.

As for the wedding? To hell with it. If she's not marrying me, then let's part ways bitterly and slaughter everyone.

"So, that's Yao Shun?" Someone's words drew all eyes toward the front of the hall.

There, a figure materialized, dressed in red groom's attire, standing silently with purple hair swaying in the wind.

It was Yao Shun, an incarnation of Di Huang, without a mask, his true features concealed by imperial laws—perhaps even Yan Luo couldn't discern them.

Everyone regarded him with deep interest.

This person had appeared out of nowhere, with an unknown origin, snatching the Holy Body's beloved and inviting so many powerful figures.

They had hoped to see through him, but their vision was obscured, leaving the old-timers frowning. He was far too mysterious.

Yao Shun remained silent, standing quietly without glancing at anyone, including Ye Chen. He didn't need to; everything was clear.

Ye Chen was the same, sitting quietly with no reaction, only strands of white hair fluttering against his face in the wind.

"The bride has arrived." Once everyone was seated, the master of ceremonies announced loudly, prompting all to rise and look in one direction.

Chu Ling appeared, adorned in a phoenix crown and bridal robes, supported by two women as she ascended the cloud steps toward Yao Shun.

Among all the women in the world, a bride on her wedding day was the most beautiful.

In this moment, she was truly radiant and peerless, stunningly ethereal, making everything else in the world fade into dullness.

Those present were captivated, and even the quasi-emperor level veteran underworld generals felt an inexplicable stir, their aged eyes filled with enchantment.

Ye Chen lifted his gaze, remaining still, simply watching from afar.

Though only about a thousand zhang away, it felt as if she stood on the other side of the starry river, across time itself, more distant than life and death.

She was the woman he loved most, now in wedding attire, but not for him. Her world-tinged smile was only for another.

Chu Ling moved with graceful steps, ascending each stair, forcing back the tears in her eyes and steadying her trembling body.

She knew everyone was watching her, but only one pair of eyes held true meaning—that hidden gaze in the corner, secretly fixed on her.

She longed to turn and look at him, but she couldn't.

All their careful plans hinged on this final step; turning back would give him hope and render all their efforts meaningless.

It was indeed torturous; not only could she not look, but she had to force a smile.

Under the eyes of all, she had to display that radiant smile.

To show the world she was happy, and to tell him that she was now another's wife and no longer loved Ye Chen.

In the corner, Ye Chen rose and silently walked toward the mountain base.

She headed east, ascending step by step toward her groom.

He headed west, descending with lowered eyes, burdened by the winds of time, his figure lonely and desolate.

This was the trial of emotions: once lovers, now back to back.

Cause and effect, love and fate, silently drifting further apart.

Their ancient love was ultimately just a fleeting splendor, like fireworks in the sky—brilliant for a lifetime, fading into darkness.

On the vast earth, he walked step by step, alone.

Even the wandering spirits he encountered along the way gave him a wide berth, as if unable to bear his sorrow, grief, and pain.

From a bird's-eye view of the heavens, he appeared so insignificant, with no companions, no one by his side, his figure forlorn, white hair swaying.

He didn't know how long he had walked, only that the wedding ceremony at Luochuan had concluded, and those who had come to congratulate had all departed.

As some flew through the sky, they caught sight of him by chance.

Ah! All who saw him let out a sigh of lament.

What kind of story was this? They were such a perfect match, yet it ended like this, as strangers.

No one approached; even if they did, they wouldn't know what to say.

Introduce him to another woman? Take him to a brothel to spend some money? Don't be ridiculous—Ye Chen still loved the goddess of the Naihe Bridge.

After some time, Ye Chen finally stopped.

Before him loomed a massive mountain, majestic and imposing, shrouded in clouds—a symbol of the underworld: Jieming Mountain.

At the base stood a graceful figure, poised elegantly, her beauty transcendent, untouched by mortal concerns or worldly dust.

She was, needless to say, Bai Zhi, the disciple of Di Huang.

From her demeanor, it seemed she had been waiting here for some time, her expression cold, her beautiful eyes devoid of any ripple.

"Please inform the immortal that Ye Chen wishes to see Senior Di Huang," Ye Chen said flatly, his voice still hoarse.

"Defeat me, and you may enter the mountain," Bai Zhi replied indifferently.