Chapter 83: The Return of Clear Snow

Night Without End gripped his sword, letting it drag him over mountains and desolate ridges at a breakneck speed. Before long, he had already left the depths of the ruins behind. As he flew outward, the horizon bloomed with the colors of sunset, and even when the sky was fully bright, nothing untoward occurred.

From time to time, divine rainbows streaked across the sky above the ruins—cultivators, all flying in the same direction, clearly drawn by the legacy of the Demon Empress.

“Why does it feel as though these ruins have grown strange?” Night Without End mused to himself.

As he continued his flight, he drew many curious glances; while others soared gracefully on rainbows or rode magical artifacts, exuding ethereal elegance, he alone was an oddity—dragged through the sky by a blue longsword. Had others not seen it with their own eyes, they would scarcely have believed it.

He pressed on toward the edge of the ruins. With the rising sun, the blood-red moon faded from sight, and the bones littering the ground vanished into the earth. When the red moon rose again, it would be their time to resurrect.

A deep, resonant thump—like a heartbeat—sounded in the depths of Night Without End’s soul. The primordial blood left within him by Xueqing had suddenly grown restless for reasons unknown.

“It’s… the Empress’s heart beating!”

He could feel it—could sense the powerful pulse, and he swiftly chose a direction, pursuing it without hesitation.

Half an hour later—

Night Without End found himself back where he had started, as if he had never left.

He peered ahead and, this time, studied the scene intently. To his amazement, five mountains stood side by side, resembling the massive hand of some deity. The five peaks looked uncannily like five fingers.

“Is this… the Buddha’s Five-Finger Mountain? Wasn’t it there that the Monkey King was trapped in the old legends?” He was bewildered—how could the mythic Five-Finger Mountain appear before him?

“Perhaps it’s a coincidence—just ordinary mountains. I’ll try again,” he muttered, fixing his position carefully before setting off once more, confident that this time, he would not circle back.

Yet, another half hour passed, and he returned to the same spot, dumbfounded.

“Why does this keep happening?” Realizing he’d returned yet again, Night Without End knew that something extraordinary was at play. Though only a few hundred miles from the Empress’s place of Nirvana, still within the ruins, there was clearly something amiss.

“Could this truly be the Five-Finger Mountain?” He pondered the possibility.

“No, it must be that some powerful cultivator has laid down an array here, one that disrupts perception.” With this in mind, he closed his eyes and let the blue sword lead the way, relying entirely on instinct, guided by the rhythmic, powerful thrum of the Empress’s heart within his own chest.

He did not know how long he traveled before a wave of spiritual energy washed over him.

When Night Without End opened his eyes, he found himself in a world of birdsong and flowers—a sacred, pure land out of legend, breathtakingly beautiful, with scenery as poetic as a painting.

At this moment, he could distinctly feel the Empress’s heartbeat; each pulse sent jabs of pain through his own heart. The source lay deep within this pure land, behind several graceful peaks.

Mist drifted between the immortal mountains, and pavilions and palaces could be glimpsed through the haze. Night Without End hurried forward.

Suddenly, he saw a beautiful figure standing atop a mountain cliff wreathed in mist—a woman clad in white, pure as snow, her gown billowing in the wind like a fairy about to soar away.

Night Without End’s pupils contracted sharply.

She was an exceptionally beautiful woman, as elegant and ethereal as an orchid in a secluded valley. There was a tranquil beauty about her, so harmonious with the picturesque surroundings that she seemed to be the very embodiment of nature’s grace.

This woman, of unparalleled bearing, looked only eighteen or nineteen. Her black hair fluttered, long lashes trembling, eyes misty, lips and teeth gleaming with crystalline luster, her neck slender, skin like jade, features exquisite, her figure indistinctly revealed—so flawless, she seemed untouched by the mortal world.

“Qing’er!” Night Without End called softly.

The woman on the cliff was none other than Xueqing.

After a brief moment of daze, he strode forward in delight.

As if hearing his call, the woman turned to look at him, her expression complex. When Xueqing’s gaze fell upon Night Without End’s scarred form, a tremor passed through her heart…

A gentle breeze swept by, lifting her ink-black hair, and in that instant, she bloomed like a celestial flower, so radiant that even the sun lost its color.

“Do not come any closer, or it will cost you your life.” Her voice, as melodious as heavenly music, carried a chill that made Night Without End shiver. He could tell she was not making an idle threat.

“Qing’er, listen, let me expl—”

He had not finished when a sound like the rending of air cut him off. Several powerful demons, who had vanished earlier, burst forth from the depths of the immortal peaks, gathering at the woman’s side.

A golden-feathered, winged birdman; an ancient, serpentine dragon; a muscular man with arms covered in scales; and a giant with ox horns—all wore pale faces, as though their vitality was depleted. They approached Xueqing with humble deference, taking their places by her side and fixing Night Without End with murderous stares.

“I will take him away.”

At that moment, a woman’s voice echoed from the immortal mountains shrouded in mist behind the cliff.

“So you say you’ll just take him and leave? Does that not make a mockery of our demon clan?” the ancient dragon snarled, advancing.

Suddenly, a torrent of spiritual energy surged forth like a boundless sea. In a blink, a veiled maiden appeared in the sky.

Her flowing black hair danced wildly, and her presence was as unfathomable as an abyss, exuding an overwhelming pressure—like being crushed beneath a hundred thousand mountains.

From the horizon, more than a dozen auras approached, though none as formidable as the veiled maiden.

The celestials of Immortal Moon Sanctuary had all arrived.

The maiden’s face and brow were etched with golden markings, and soon her entire body was covered in them. Golden light radiated from her for several meters, her eyes shooting golden beams tens of meters long.

She stood there like a goddess cast in gold.

“I said—I will take him away,” the maiden declared coldly, fixing her gaze on the ancient dragon.

The dragon and the other demons all looked to Xueqing, as if awaiting her command.

With a look of panic and complexity, Xueqing glanced at Night Without End, then turned away. “Do not harm him. Let them leave,” she said. A single, crystal-clear tear slipped down her cheek.

“Qing’er…” Night Without End cried out, gazing at her solitary, desolate figure in the sky, calling her name again and again.

Yet at this moment, Xueqing seemed both familiar and strange to him.

Suddenly, Night Without End felt his body grow light—a golden-winged birdman swept to his side, ensnared him in a beam of light, and in an instant, carried him skyward at unimaginable speed.

The celestials of Immortal Moon Sanctuary followed closely.

Night Without End continued to cry out, “Qing’er…”

But soon, the rushing wind forced its way into his mouth, choking off his shouts. The golden birdman carried him swiftly, his protests fading into muffled whimpers, and in moments, they had vanished into the distance.

With a flash, the birdman landed, set Night Without End down, and looked at him deeply. “Take care of yourself. Leave as soon as you can.” With that, he transformed into a beam of golden light and soared away.

The celestials of Immortal Moon Sanctuary descended from the sky as well…