TBR CH32

The leader of the Qingcheng Sect has been feeling a bit of a headache lately.  

The reason, of course, is the sudden meeting convened by the Immortal Venerable and the subsequent series of events related to Shen Nian.  

By now, the matter has mostly been settled. The original Shen Nian was buried beneath the green mountains of the immortal sect, while his sister, Shen Rou, joined the Qingcheng Sect and began learning swordsmanship.  

Contrary to the sect leader’s expectations, the woman who had nearly cried herself dry that day now often wore a gentle smile. It was said that she practiced cultivation with extraordinary diligence and effort.  

Many inner sect elders who kept an eye on her admired the young woman greatly. Once she showed her talent in the outer sect competition, she might be able to find a good master.  

As for the outsider Shen Nian, he had also been punished.  

Now in a fragile soul state, he suffered not only the torment of soul erosion within the Qiankun Pearl but also endured the taunts and torture of Jing Qianshan. It was said that he had already become delirious, devoid of reason, and would weep and beg anyone he saw to spare him.  

Looking back, the sect leader couldn’t help but feel a twinge of shame. In truth, most of the credit for resolving this matter didn’t belong to him. He had merely cooperated with the Immortal Venerable, playing a minor role. Everything else had been arranged clearly and meticulously by the Immortal Venerable and… that person.  

Even Shen Nian’s fate was part of it.  

The person known as “Shen Nian,” though foolish and malicious—deserving of punishment—was also ignorant and naive. According to the Immortal Venerable, he had been pushed to the forefront as a pawn by the so-called “system” behind him, unaware of the bigger picture.  

In the end, he would face the fate he deserved.  

“Are you planning to kill him yourself?”  

The sect leader asked respectfully. He had vaguely heard that “Shen Nian” had once incited the Demon Lord to take action against Immortal Venerable Fu. Had he succeeded, the consequences would have been unimaginable.  

Fu Tingxue shook his head slightly. His calm gaze drifted past the palace window, over the emerald waves of Qingcheng Mountain, as if looking somewhere far away. Then he asked the sect leader:  

“Have the other two been found?”  

The sect leader knew the Immortal Venerable would ask this, but not all outcomes in this world could be as one wished.  

He sighed softly:  

“The human one… has been found. His parents were wealthy locals who had been searching for their child all along. Unfortunately, in the end, all they found were the remains abandoned in the wilderness by the body-snatcher.”  

“As for the missing demon, we’re still searching. Under the former Demon Emperor Wu Su’s rule, too many demons died under unclear circumstances. It’s impossible now to determine which one it was.”  

A hint of sorrow flashed through the immortal’s ice-cold eyes.  

The harm caused by “Shen Nian” wasn’t limited to the lives he had stolen—it extended to everyone who cared about them.  

What he could do was not condemn the hatred of these unfortunate souls, nor act as a lofty immortal, arbitrarily writing the ending for them.  

As he spoke, the sect leader’s pupils suddenly contracted, as if he had just grasped the Immortal Venerable’s meaning:  

“When our sect members found the human child, his family did indeed want to come to the immortal mountain to see the person who had killed their child with their own eyes.”  

“Yes.”  

Fu Tingxue nodded. Just yesterday, Shen Rou had come to him with the same request:  

“Immortal Venerable, I want to personally kill the person who harmed my brother.”  

She had transformed from the shattered young girl into a cultivator walking the immortal path. Her eyes now shone with a clear light—a bright and unashamed hatred. It was a wound she would always carry, one that would never fully heal, but one she no longer hid.  

Hatred was not always venomous, and vengeance was not always something to be concealed.  

Only by giving those he had harmed the chance for retribution could the wounds of the past truly be acknowledged, and the bloody scars have a chance to heal.  

Even as the Immortal Venerable, Fu Tingxue did not believe he had the right to act on their behalf.  

The sect leader kept his expression neutral, but inwardly, he couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. Truly, this was Fu Tingxue.  

Since the day he had taken the position of Immortal Venerable, every decision the immortal made had earned his heartfelt respect. It was as if he never thought of himself—always of others.  

It was precisely because of this that the sect leader had recently found himself troubled by the aftermath of events.  

Namely… that black-haired, black-eyed Demon Lord who, by all appearances, was deeply in love with Immortal Venerable Fu.  

Gu Shishu.  

Lately, whenever anyone visited Xiao Zhu Peak, it was impossible not to see him. Even the sect leader had grown accustomed to the sight of the Demon Lord standing beside the snow-robed Immortal Venerable. The two of them together truly made a striking pair. And it always reminded the sect leader of the past.  

Back then, Gu Shishu, as the head disciple of the immortal sect, had also spent day and night with Fu Tingxue on Xiao Zhu Peak.  

The events of those years… The sect leader knew the Immortal Venerable had never truly let them go. He himself regretted not stopping those self-righteous sect members who had secretly climbed Xiao Zhu Peak, intending to preemptively slay the “demon.”  

They had learned their techniques, and learned the difference between good and evil, but they had never learned the compassion that should accompany the path of immortality.  

That day, when he ascended Xiao Zhu Peak and didn’t see the familiar young man, the sect leader had turned his head to see Fu Tingxue also gazing at the empty space where Gu Shishu usually stood by his side, his expression desolate.  

Even an immortal could not achieve true detachment from emotion.  

So today, before entering the hall, the sect leader had made sure to announce himself in advance.  

Yet he was still unsurprised to see, atop the high jade steps, the snow-robed immortal with the Demon Lord leaning close to whisper something intimate, his dark hair cascading between them, sketching out an ambiguous space.  

Fu Tingxue’s robes had been altered in style, now covering every inch of his skin.  

But the way he looked at the other man—soft and shimmering—was something anyone could see. All the frost in his gaze melted away for the person before him.  

The immortal’s lips, usually pale, now bore a faint sheen of moisture, tinged with a hint of crimson.

He showed no trace of embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate moment, his gaze still clear and composed. He slightly lowered his head, allowing the Demon Lord to adjust his collar, then continued speaking to the person below the steps as usual.  

The sect leader suddenly realized that the Immortal Venerable had no intention of hiding this relationship.  

Besides, it had come about with great difficulty. He knew how much Gu Shishu had endured for Fu Tingxue in the past, and he could guess at the immortal’s love—unspoken yet ever-present—over the centuries.  

What was there to hesitate about?  

The doubts in his heart quietly dissolved upon seeing the two before him, turning into sincere blessings.  

The immortal had done so much for them. For that alone, he deserved all the kindness in the world.  

And if anyone dared to question it…  

Well, he hadn’t become the sect leader in name only.  

—  

Meanwhile, Gu Shishu, amused and a little mischievous, asked the Immortal Venerable:  

“Why was your sect leader looking at us like he was moved just now… Hmm, judging by that, he must have already accepted us being together. Smart of him, really—he didn’t even ask about our relationship.”  

(Though, to be fair, the Demon Lord had been rather obvious.)  

Fu Tingxue leaned slightly toward Gu Shishu, unaware of how bold his own actions appeared. Centuries of loneliness had left the immortal somewhat insecure, and now he clung to affection with particular fondness.  

To outsiders, the Immortal Venerable remained as composed as ever—aloof, untouchable, still exuding an air of solitary elegance.  

But in Gu Shishu’s eyes, he was always cold, always so deserving of embraces, of kisses, of love.  

The Demon Lord’s gaze darkened as he pulled the immortal into his arms, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head. Then he heard the immortal murmur softly:  

“If he asks, just say we are cultivation partners.”  

Every trace of emotion in the immortal’s life had been taught to him by Gu Shishu himself. Fu Tingxue believed himself a poor student, but Gu Shishu knew—he had long since mastered the ways of love without needing instruction.  

This unguarded honesty shook Gu Shishu’s heart in a way no other lover could ever replicate.  

“Why does the Immortal Venerable think that way?”  

Gu Shishu’s fingers deftly combed through the immortal’s silver-white hair, then suddenly covered his eyes.  

He spoke close to Fu Tingxue’s ear, his warm breath making the immortal’s jade-like earlobes flush faintly pink. But Fu Tingxue subconsciously tensed at the first half of his words, his eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings against Gu Shishu’s palm—  

Only to hear the Demon Lord laugh and press even closer, each word vibrating against that sensitive patch of skin before sinking into his heart:  

“I haven’t even had the chance to formally propose to the Immortal Venerable yet. Could it be you want to elope with me?”  

Fu Tingxue’s eyes remained covered. He could feel the warmth of Gu Shishu’s palm seeping into his skin, and in the darkness, his mind gradually settled—though the Demon Lord’s absurd words sent his imagination spiraling, his senses heightened by the lack of sight.  

Gu Shishu felt the faint tickle of eyelashes against his palm. The Immortal Venerable parted his lips slightly but hesitated.  

Too close. Too obvious.  

“Not—”  

Gu Shishu caught the soft, quick whisper before the immortal hurriedly finished, the words light and rushed:  

“—not unacceptable.”  

Even if it was just a joke… if it was you, anything would be fine. Anything would be welcome.  

He didn’t realize how he looked—eyes still tightly shut beneath Gu Shishu’s hand, yet answering without reservation—soft enough to melt even the hardest heart. Not that Gu Shishu had any defenses left against him anyway.  

A sliver of light seeped through the gaps between fingers.  

The Demon Lord fell silent for a rare moment before speaking again, his voice low and rough, like boiling liquor, whispering so close it nearly brushed the immortal’s ear:  

“I love you.”  

The sudden confession left Fu Tingxue flustered.  

Though his eyes were covered, the daylight still filtered through. In the faint shadows between Gu Shishu’s fingers, Fu Tingxue saw the Demon Lord shift from behind him to his front, his earlobes still slightly warm. He wanted to touch them.  

But his hand was gently pinned down as Gu Shishu leaned over him, enveloping him completely in his presence—an overwhelming intimacy that carried the weight of possession, yet only repeated:  

“I love you. I love you.”  

“I love you,” he sighed, sounding almost satisfied, “Tingxue, how could I ever bear to let you go?”  

The last time he had repeated these words so insistently was when they first confessed their feelings. Back then, he had kissed the immortal’s trembling eyelids, swallowing every tear.  

But now, it was simply because his emotions had overflowed—because he needed Fu Tingxue to know just how precious this long-lost treasure was to him, how utterly cherished.  

With a love like this, how could he not offer the grandest of betrothals, the rest of his life in devotion?  

—  

True to form, the Demon Lord spared no expense.  

Elder Zhang of the Artifact Forging Peak—renowned for his swordcraft—trembled as he pointed at the mountain of rare treasures piled outside his door, some so obscure even he couldn’t name them all.  

“That’s enough, that’s enough.”

He meticulously inventoried the various rare treasures provided by Gu Shishu, finally confirming that all the materials needed to restore the Qing Shuang Sword were indeed here. It was rare for so many precious items to be gathered in one place in this world.  

For example, this Blood Spirit Fungus—  

Rumored to have been painstakingly sought by the previous Demon Sovereign, it was said to have been securely locked away in the Demon Realm’s treasury, never once used despite its value.  

Or the Qilin Bone, a sacred relic of the demon race—  

This was actually the hardest material to obtain among them all. It was said the demon elders guarded this ancestral treasure more fiercely than their own eyes. Given the longstanding enmity between the immortal sects and the demon realm, acquiring such a treasure was nearly impossible.  

And the Purple Gold Marrow, gifted by the Human Emperor before his departure—  

A treasure blessed by the human imperial family, faint wisps of purple energy swirling around it, it was the finest material for reforging the sword’s body. Yet in the mortal world, even with mountains of gold, obtaining even an inch of it was nearly unthinkable.  

And so many other things.  

The Demon Lord looked at the mountain of treasures before him, visibly pleased. Even when the elder, finally snapping out of his daze, waved his hands and said, “Too much, too much,” Gu Shishu simply dismissed it and told him to take it all.  

This was merely part of his betrothal gift to the immortal.  

Not even a tenth of it.  

On the day the Qing Shuang Sword was reborn, the hall was bathed in clear light, ice and snow gleaming brilliantly.  

The broken sword was finally restored.  

The uneven scars left by the flames were now concealed beneath a new layer of silver, the blade reforged along its damaged patterns—not avoiding the remnants of its past, but refining them into new radiance.  

When Fu Tingxue took hold of this familiar sword—his lifebound weapon—he froze for a moment.  

His swordsmanship had never felt so complete before. The foremost immortal of the sect, already on the verge of glimpsing the heavens’ secrets, now held a blade that sang in his grasp, all obstacles dispelled, all truths laid bare.  

This was… enlightenment of the Heavenly Dao.  

Gu Shishu, having long since reached this realm, sensed the subtle shift in the surrounding energy, the altered flow of spiritual qi, and realized—the Immortal Venerable’s swordsmanship had finally reached perfection.  

Clad in snow-white robes, the immortal stood beneath the sky, his sword intent sharp as frost, as if capable of cleaving away all impurity from this world.  

*So good.* Gu Shishu thought sincerely.  

Then he saw the immortal’s gaze instinctively seek out his own, their eyes finally meeting.  

In that instant, frozen lakes thawed, and spring’s first green emerged.  

Sword in hand, the immortal offered him a faint but genuine smile, the love in his eyes blending seamlessly with his ice-and-snow nature.  

This was how Fu Tingxue loved—like his sword, like his Dao.  

Hidden. Silent. Pure as snow.  

And I love him.