Another tear slipped silently from Huai Ning’s eye, seeping unnoticed into the fabric of her pillow.

Ye Qingshen raised his hand and gently brushed away the tear tracks. Unexpectedly, in the very next moment, Huai Ning opened her eyes and stared at him without blinking.

“Prime Minister Ye,” she said softly, “breaking into a lady’s boudoir in the middle of the night hardly seems like the conduct of a gentleman.”

Ye Qingshen glanced at the bed she lay upon, as though he wanted to explain something. Though he had been staying in the council hall frequently due to the pressures of state affairs, and though this chamber had until recently belonged to the late emperor and Consort Ning, that did not mean it was not now his sleeping quarters.

“Oh, right,” Huai Ning said, feigning sudden realization, then smiling. “The Great Shen has already fallen.”

At times, Ye Qingshen truly felt she was strange—not merely in an ordinary way, but in a manner that seemed detached from the very world itself. And yet, he found he could accept it without knowing why. Perhaps it was because, in his long and lonely life, he had never encountered anyone like her.

He once believed that when his tolerance reached its limit, he would find an opportunity to eliminate Huai Ning once more. But before that moment ever came, she vanished of her own accord.

She was always like that—appearing without warning, disappearing just the same.

Ye Qingshen did not investigate where she had gone. Just as he had always suspected, Huai Ning seemed disconnected from this world. If she could arrive suddenly, then it was only natural that she would leave just as abruptly.

Then, one rainy night, after bathing and preparing to rest, Ye Qingshen heard a sound at his door. He disliked attendants keeping watch at night, so it could not have been palace staff. He stepped forward and opened the door—only to find Huai Ning standing beneath the eaves, soaked through, wringing rainwater from her clothes.

Hearing him open the door, she looked up and smiled.
“Miss me?”

She pulled out a tightly oil-wrapped bundle and shook it at him.
“Care for a late-night snack?”

Ye Qingshen had experienced many nights in the capital, many rainy evenings—but never had he shared still-warm mille-feuille pastries with a drenched woman on a rain-soaked night.

At such an hour, freshly baked pastries should not have existed. He strongly suspected Huai Ning had dragged some poor shopkeeper out of bed at midnight and forced them to knead dough.

When she emerged after drying her hair and saw him waiting, she laughed.
“You’re not afraid to eat it, are you? You think I stole it? You dared to seize a throne—what’s wrong with me seizing a pastry?”

He looked at her. “Why didn’t you use an umbrella?”

“How could I travel by night if I carried one?”

She sat on the cushion across from him. Besides, she had to spare a bit of power to keep the pastry fresh—and honestly… arriving soaked was far more effective.

She lifted a piece toward him, then took a large bite herself without waiting.

The taste was the same as all those years ago. Yet no matter how she chewed, it felt less flavorful than the piece Zhou Sihan had once handed her.

The dead were gone—those who had passed before she left the mortal realm, and those who vanished after. Time transformed mountains and seas, but to the demon race, it was no more than a flick of the fingers.

Watching her quietly savor the pastry, Ye Qingshen finally picked up a piece himself. As a child, he had loved such sweets. But beneath growing burdens and the relentless weight of duty, they had gradually lost their appeal.

By the time he realized it, only a small bite remained in his hand. Huai Ning rested her chin on her palm, watching him eat.

She had to admit—no matter how many years passed, she still enjoyed this sight: a “god” descending to partake in mortal fare. Especially one who looked solemn and righteous, yet clearly harbored his own quiet emotions. It made up for the greatest flaw of Xie Qingchen, the man he so closely resembled—Huai Ning loved the faces of gods, but not their heartlessness.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” Ye Qingshen asked, turning his gaze aside.

She leaned closer. “I already told you—I fancy you. There aren’t many men in this world as pleasing to the eye as you. Would you be willing—”

She was nearly leaning across the table when he cut in, “You have no name or status. This is improper.”

She nodded as if enlightened. “Oh, so you want to marry me. You should’ve just said so.”

From her sleeve, she produced a ring, pinched between her fingers.
“I’ve carried this with me for years. If we are to marry, I’ll give it to you.”

He was stunned—only for a moment—before realizing something was wrong.
“But… if a marriage is to be proposed, it should be prepared by the man—”

She burst into laughter. “Is that really the point? The point is marriage. And you’re just agreeing like that?”

She had meant it as a joke, just another tease—but then she heard him say:

“I agree.”

“…What?”

This time, she froze. She had returned to the mortal world determined to do as she pleased, even to taste Ye Qingshen himself—but she had never expected him to take it so seriously. To marry a woman of unknown origin without hesitation?

“You’re serious?” she asked.

Seeing her rare uncertainty, Ye Qingshen only grew calmer.
“I am.”

Now that he had accepted, Huai Ning fell silent. She truly hadn’t planned this far. Still, he was a usurper emperor—who could stop him from marrying whomever he wished? But what about her? She would need to think carefully about how to handle matters back in the Demon Realm.

Yet she was no longer the powerless mortal she once had been. The union was unexpected, but still within her control. She had labored for over thirty years—what harm was there in indulging once in the mortal realm?

Only by letting go could Yu Yuan be given room to grow.

What Huai Ning had not anticipated was that the cost of this indulgence would far exceed her imagination.

Through some oversight—she did not know how—it truly happened: she conceived a child with a mortal. When she first realized it, her vision nearly went black.

Demons could freely control when they bore offspring. Though Huai Ning was not adept at powerful spells, such a minor art should have posed no difficulty. Whether due to restrictions or her immersion in warmth and tenderness, this entirely unforeseen event occurred.

Well—she was not a powerful demon to begin with, and was only half-demon at that. Her own mother had been mortal. Though such a union would be inconceivable to most demons, she found she could accept it quickly.

She carved blessings for the child in her womb onto a jade disc. Praying to gods would have been absurd; demon incantations risked exposure. So she simply engraved her wishes as Huai Ning, a mother blessing her child.

Once she helped Ye Qingshen rectify the腐朽朝政—the decaying court—they would abdicate in favor of a capable successor. Then she would take Ye Qingshen back to the Demon Realm. He would have fulfilled his duty; she could finally return home.

She had heard from Wei Jiang that Yu Yuan had been unusually calm lately. Perhaps she had thought things through. That would be best. Unlike her demon-lord father, Yu Yuan possessed reason despite her immense talent. Even if she never wished to rule, she would do so well if forced into the position.

As Huai Ning quietly planned everything, an uninvited guest appeared.

A minister’s daughter—one of many pushed forward by court officials eager for Ye Qingshen to produce heirs. Such matters were easy to handle, and Huai Ning paid them little mind. What drew her attention was that this girl seemed different—her worries heavier than the others’.

On the road to Luoyi Mountain, Huai Ning encountered her again.

“You need to leave Ye Qingshen,” the girl said.

Huai Ning found it amusing. “And if I don’t?”

“Heavenly punishment will fall.”

Seeing Huai Ning smile faintly, the girl hurried to explain, “It’s true. Ye Qingshen is not an ordinary mortal—he is a god reincarnated, sent to the mortal realm to undergo a trial. You are an anomaly, outside his fate. You’ve already altered his tribulation. If this continues, the Immortal Realm will strike him down. He will be annihilated—body and soul.”

Annihilated.

Huai Ning’s smile grew colder. She had seen what annihilation looked like long ago.

“If it is a trial,” she said calmly, “then shouldn’t whatever happens be part of it? Why must a tribulation follow a predetermined path?”

She shook her head lightly. “Your argument is interesting—but I reject it.”

True or not—even if Ye Qingshen truly was a god—she would take this mortal lifetime with her.

The girl panicked. “If your bond is deep, he will surely seek you once he returns to the heavens in his next life. But not this one. The dynasty’s fate is already sealed. You should never have intervened. Since you did, you must bear the cost. Let go now, and there may still be a chance—”

Huai Ning looked at her quietly.
“If heaven truly has eyes, why does it not save the suffering? The trapped? Even those who die in pursuit of the immortal path?”

She lifted her gaze skyward.
“If heaven wishes to contend with me, then let it. I will not change my mind. You may leave.”

She had lost too much already—each time at the hands of fate. If she did not struggle against heaven, she knew she would once again be left watching loved ones fade away, powerless.

She would not wait anymore. She would take Ye Qingshen away now. Once they reached the Demon Realm, what could the gods do then?

But just as the carriage approached the mountain’s entrance—

A bolt of heavenly lightning fell without deviation, striking the carriage dead center.

Huai Ning felt as though her organs shattered along with the carriage itself. She had protective arrays reinforced by the Demon Realm—so why did this strike feel as though it had slammed directly into her flesh?

It hurt.

Agony tore through her abdomen, gnawing at her consciousness. With trembling hands, she clutched her lower belly, clearly sensing something slipping away.

“Yu… Yuan…”

Calling her daughter’s name, her vision blurred. In the final moment before losing consciousness, she thought she saw Ye Qingshen—but no words came.

Darkness claimed her.

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