Ling Feng did not leave immediately.
The night after Su Yonghuang's sun-world collapsed and reformed into an eleventh Fate Palace, after the sealed realm calmed and the Everlasting Courtyard slowly returned to its usual quiet, Ling Feng didn't immediately leave the world.
Before he stepped into that other world, there were threads in this one he refused to leave hanging.
Two of them wore apricot jade and lotus white.
...
He did not go to a main peak or some grand ceremony hall full of elders, incense, and pomp.
Instead, his steps took him to a small, rarely used terrace halfway up one of Heavenly Dao Academy's side mountains. A thin waterfall slid like silk down dark stone, vanishing into a clear pool that overflowed into mist. A narrow stone bridge arched over the stream, covered in a faint moss that glittered in the moonlight.
The academy's disciples rarely came here. The qi was good, but not astonishing. The view was pretty, but not breathtaking. For most people, it was just another quiet corner in a world overflowing with sacred landscapes.
For the young geniuses of the Eastern Hundred Cities, this terrace was a meditation spot.
For Ling Feng, it was a place where the noise of the world could not quite reach.
Right now, that terrace was occupied by a single woman in plain azure robes.
Mei Suyao stood with her hands tucked into her sleeves, eyes half-lidded, looking out over the distant lights of the Eastern Hundred Cities. In the distance, countless cities glowed like lanterns hung along the spine of the earth. Closer, the academy's formations formed translucent veils in the air, shimmering faintly with Dao lines.
Moonlight outlined the gentle curve of her cheek, the straight, quiet line of her back.
Ling Feng didn't announce himself with aura or light.
He just walked up beside her, leaned his elbows on the stone railing with the lazy posture of a man leaning on a balcony back on earth, and let out a low whistle.
"Mm," he said. "Not bad. For a random side terrace, the scenery's doing its best."
Mei Suyao's lips curved the slightest bit.
"Young Noble Ling has unusual standards," she replied, her tone as calm as still water. "Most people would not call this place 'random.' The academy's elders consider it a quiet spot for reflection."
"Exactly," he said. "Random for them. Perfect for me."
He turned his head, openly studying her profile for a long, comfortable breath. The night breeze teased a loose strand of hair against her cheek. The apricot-jade aura that belonged to the Eternal River School's heir lingered around her like mist over a tranquil river.
"You waited," he added.
Her gaze flickered.
"…You said you wanted to talk before you left," she said calmly. "My schedule is not so rigid that I cannot spare an evening."
"Good," he said, satisfied. "I would've gone to Eternal River to drag you out myself if you'd been busy."
She gave him a look from the corner of her eye, that faint, amused sharpness he'd grown to enjoy.
"Young Noble speaks as if the Eastern Hundred Cities are his backyard."
"Front yard," he corrected lazily. "I like watching people knock on the door."
Her laugh was soft, like a bell underwater, restrained and pure.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The waterfall's murmuring filled the silence. Far on another peak, a sword beam flashed, then vanished, marking some distant night cultivation. The academy's bells had long gone quiet; the world was in that breath between one day and the next.
Then Mei Suyao's eyes turned slightly more serious.
"Is it decided?" she asked. "Your 'vacation' to that place?"
"The Sacred Nether World?" he said, tone light.
The name fell between them like a stone into a deep well, sending invisible ripples through the world. Sacred Nether World: ancestral home of the Ghost Immortal Race, one of the Nine Worlds, its Nether Border region infamous for tribes and cities that danced around graves and ominous burial grounds.
"Yeah," he continued. "I'm going."
Her fingers tightened fractionally inside her sleeves, the only crack in her composure.
"That world is not gentle to outsiders," she said slowly. "Especially not humans."
Ling Feng snorted softly.
"Good thing I've never been gentle with anyone who tries to bite me," he said. "Don't worry. I'm not going to disappear for a thousand years. This trip isn't going to be that long."
He straightened, turning fully to face her.
The usual laziness faded a degree. The easy smile remained, but his gaze, when it met hers, was clear and steady, like someone finally stepping past all jokes to say what they actually meant.
"Suyao," he said.
She lifted her eyes to him. Immortal Bone sleeping, dao heart calm, an entire school and the hope of countless people resting on those slender shoulders.
"I'm still going," he said simply. "There's no changing that. But before I do, I wanted to say this properly. Not through jokes, not in between me bullying some Heaven's Will candidate."
Her lashes trembled once.
He smiled, softer now.
"I'm going to miss you," he said.
Three simple words, spoken as if he were commenting on the weather. But there was no teasing this time, no smugness—just honest warmth.
Mei Suyao's heart skipped a beat.
"Young Noble—"
"I know you're busy," he continued, overriding her gently, but not rudely. "You've got Eternal River breathing down your neck. A whole world expecting you to shine like you were born for it."
His hand lifted, hovering halfway between them. He didn't touch—didn't force—but the intent in that small gesture made the space feel smaller.
"I'm not here to chain you," he said. "I'm just telling you that when I come back from Sacred Nether, I'll do this properly."
"…Properly?" she echoed, voice softer than the mist around the waterfall.
"Mm." His grin turned boyish and earnest at the same time. "I'll chase you in broad daylight. Slowly, openly, shamelessly. I'll steal your time, drag you to see ugly graveyards and beautiful sunsets, push your cultivation because it'll be fun to watch Eternal River's old monsters panic, and make sure the next time someone calls you 'world-renowned genius,' they have to add 'Ling Feng's woman' after it."
Her calm dao heart—which had faced Immortal Emperor scriptures and Heaven's Will storms in her sect's hidden halls—actually wavered.
Mei Suyao looked away, gaze falling back to the distant lights.
"You speak as if it is already decided," she said lightly. "As if I have no say."
"Oh, you have plenty of say," he replied immediately. "You can reject me when I come back. You can make me work for it. You can hit me with Immortal Soulbone light if I annoy you."
He tilted his head, eyes amused but still sincere.
"But I'll still come," he said. "Because you're worth it. Simple as that."
Silence fell again, but now it was charged, fragile.
The waterfall roared softly. Moonlight turned the drifting mist silver.
Mei Suyao's fingers slowly loosened in her sleeves.
"Young Noble Ling," she said at last, tone half sigh, half helpless smile. "Your mouth truly does not know restraint."
"Usually, yeah," he agreed, laughing under his breath. "But I'm being serious right now."
He stepped closer.
Before she could move away or gather a properly dignified response, his arms moved.
He hugged her.
Not the casual, arm-over-shoulder half-embrace he sometimes used when he was being shameless. A real hug—one arm around her back, the other hand resting between her shoulder blades, steady and warm, careful not to press too hard, as if he'd actually thought about the fact that she was, despite everything, still human.
Mei Suyao's entire body went stiff.
"You—" Her voice caught. "Ling Feng!"
She could easily have pushed him away. Her cultivation, her Immortal Bone, her dao strength—it would take a thought to break free.
She didn't.
Her hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a breath, as if she had forgotten what to do with them. Then, almost of their own accord, they landed lightly on his chest, fingers curling into his robe. Her Immortal Bone, dormant between her brows, pulsed faintly, detecting the alien chaos flowing in his meridians and finding… no hostility.
His scent—sun, steel, and the faint, indescribable tang of Chaos—wrapped around her.
After a long, long moment, he leaned back just enough to meet her eyes again, still holding her in that steady circle.
"That," he said softly, lazy smile slipping back onto his lips, "is just a sample of what's coming."
She stared at him.
"…Sample?" she repeated, dazed.
"Mm." He released her slowly, fingers trailing from her sleeves, reluctant but not possessive. "When I come back, I'll pick up where we left off. So, Suyao—"
His voice dropped, playful again, but the warmth beneath it didn't fade.
"Wait for me a bit, yeah?"
The world-renowned genius, heir to Eternal River, possessor of the Immortal Soulbone—someone countless people regarded with awe and longing—felt her ears growing strangely hot.
Her dao heart, used to calculating Heaven's Will paths, found itself turning over a different question entirely.
"…I will consider it," she said, voice a touch unsteady. "If Young Noble returns safely, we can speak again."
"Good enough," he said, satisfied. "I'll bring you back some interesting souvenirs from the land of ghosts."
He stepped back, gave her a lazy half-bow that somehow still carried genuine respect, then turned and walked away, hands tucked into his sleeves, as if he hadn't just shaken an Immortal Bone's calm.
Behind him, under the moonlight, Mei Suyao touched the spot on her sleeve where his hand had rested.
Her gaze lifted once more to the distant horizon.
Sacred Nether World. Ghost Immortals. Nether Border.
"…Sample, huh," she murmured, lips curving despite herself.
The waterfall's song swallowed her voice.
...
Ye Chuyun was not on a lonely terrace.
He found her in one of Heavenly Dao Academy's smaller, elegant gardens—a place of winding stone paths, lotus ponds, and a pavilion shaded by weeping willows whose long branches brushed the water's surface.
She was pouring tea.
The steam that rose from the jade pot curled like faint lotus petals, dissolving into the night air. Her movements were graceful without affectation; every tilt of her wrist carried the quiet dignity of Southern Tang's princess and Pure Lotus' foremost disciple, a woman who had been called devilish genius since the end of the Difficult Dao Era and who now ruled a country while walking the dao.
The moment he stepped into the garden, she noticed.
"Young Noble Ling," Ye Chuyun greeted, setting the pot down. Her smile was calm and gentle, like spring rain that nourished the earth without thunder. "You rarely visit such quiet corners. Did the Everlasting Courtyard finally exhaust your patience?"
"Hardly," he said, strolling up and dropping into the seat opposite her without ceremony. "My courtyard's full of beauties. I could stay there until the mountains crumble and still not be bored."
She laughed softly, eyes crinkling.
"In that case, to what do I owe this honor?" she asked, lifting a cup to pour for him. "Is Young Noble here to requisition Southern Tang's treasury, perhaps?"
"Tempting," he said. "But no."
He accepted the cup, tapped the rim lightly with his finger, then met her eyes over the rising steam.
"I'm heading out," he said. "Time for me to stretch my bones in another place."
Her hand paused for just a moment before she resumed pouring her own tea.
"The Sacred Nether World," she said. It wasn't a question; he'd told her before. She simply confirmed it aloud, like acknowledging a storm seen on the horizon.
"Mm." He took a slow sip. "I'll be gone for a while, but not too long. Definitely back before the academy forgets my handsome face."
"Such confidence," she murmured, lips curving. "The Ghost Immortals might not care for your self-praise."
"They don't have to," he replied. "As long as they don't try to bite me."
His tone was light, but Ye Chuyun's gaze searched his face, seeing past the jokes as she always did.
"You are not going alone," she said quietly. "Sect Master Su, Ice Feather's prime descendant, the others… they are all going with you?"
"Mm. My girls are coming," he said simply, without arrogance, as if it were the most natural thing in the world that women of that level walked his path.
Ye Chuyun lowered her eyes to her cup.
"And you still came to see me." There was no accusation in her tone. Only a faint, honest curiosity that slipped through the layers of her cultivated composure.
"Of course I did." He leaned back, one arm draping over the back of his chair. "Chuyun, I'm not some old monster who forgets people exist the moment they step out of his sight."
She blinked, the words landing somewhere deep.
He continued, voice turning more serious, the teasing peeled back.
"Listen," he said. "This trip shouldn't be long. But Sacred Nether isn't exactly a tourist spot. Before I go, I wanted to say this clearly."
Her fingers tightened around her cup.
"Young Noble…"
"I'm going to miss you," he said.
A simple confession, straightforward as a spear thrust, no ornamentation.
Ye Chuyun's heart rippled like the surface of her lotus ponds in a sudden breeze.
"You say such things so casually," she managed, trying to keep her tone steady. "Southern Tang's ministers would faint if they heard."
"I'm not saying it to them," he replied. "I'm saying it to you."
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on his interlaced fingers. The lazy smile was still there, but his eyes were oddly soft.
"When I come back," he said, "I'm going to court you properly."
"…Properly?" she asked, echoing Mei Suyao almost word for word without knowing it.
"Indeed," he said. "I'll bully you a little, tease you a lot, drag you into trouble, and stand in front when the sky falls. I'll make sure the Pure Lotus' sect master and Southern Tang's princess remembers she's allowed to lean on someone sometimes."
Her breath caught.
"Ling Feng…"
"I'm not asking you to decide anything now," he went on. "You've got your own country watching your every move, your own dao to walk. I know that. I respect it."
He tapped his chest lightly.
"But my heart's straightforward," he said. "You're someone I like. Someone I want at my side. When I come back from Sacred Nether, you'll be seeing a lot more of me. I'll annoy you in person instead of by rumor."
Silence settled between them, broken only by the faint plink of water from a dripstone and the distant chatter of night-shift disciples somewhere beyond the walls.
Ye Chuyun looked at him for a long time.
She remembered watching him from a distance with Bing Yuxia, the way he had killed True Gods as if he were idly swatting flies, mocked ancient kingdoms who thought themselves towering above all, and then turned around to patiently guide the dao hearts of his own people.
She remembered how his gaze held warmth when he looked at his women, a warmth not feigned but rooted in a strange, stubborn sincerity.
Now, that warmth was turned fully on her.
"You are… very arrogant," she said softly at last. "To speak of courting me as if it were already decided."
"Arrogant guys are more fun," he said. "Didn't you learn that from watching me?"
She couldn't help it—she laughed, the sound bright and clear, chasing some of the heaviness from the air.
"That, I cannot deny," she admitted.
He took that as his opening.
Standing up, he circled the low stone table with unhurried steps.
Ye Chuyun's eyes widened slightly as he stopped beside her.
"Ling Feng—"
"Relax," he said, voice dropping, softer now. "I'm not going to snatch you away to Sacred Nether. Not yet."
Before she could decide whether to feel relieved or offended, he bent down.
His arms folded around her shoulders.
Her dao heart jolted.
For a ruler of Southern Tang, for a paragon of Pure Lotus, this was a ridiculous reaction; she knew that. She had faced political storms, sect scheming, and the expectations of a whole country. Her composure was tempered steel, not porcelain.
Yet in that moment, as his warmth enveloped her, Ye Chuyun felt the world narrow to the steady beat of his heart against her cheek and the faint Chaos aura that slid past her defenses without doing harm.
She didn't move.
Her hands, still holding the teacup, trembled. Hot tea sloshed against the rim and spilled onto the table, forming a small dark pool that neither of them looked at.
"Ling… Feng…" she whispered.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest.
"That's a sample," he murmured near her ear.
"…Sample?" she repeated, dazed.
"Yeah." He straightened slightly, still close enough that his breath brushed her skin. "When I come back, I'll give you the full art. If you let me."
Her face burned.
"You—this Southern Tang's princess is not… some experiment for you to 'test'," she protested weakly, the formality of her words at odds with her barely-contained fluster.
He grinned.
"Then think of it as us discussing the Dao together," he said. "Just a much more intimate, hands-on method than the usual lectures."
She really should have hit him.
She didn't.
Instead, she found herself nodding, the movement small and almost imperceptible.
"…Come back alive," she said quietly. "Then we can discuss your 'Dao.'"
"Deal," he said.
He let her go with one last, gentle squeeze, then stepped back, hands sliding into his sleeves again, casual as ever, as if he hadn't just made Southern Tang's ruler's heart lurch.
"Try not to miss me too much while I'm gone," he added lightly. "If you do, just remember you're always in my heart."
Ye Chuyun stared at him, stunned, then shook her head with a helpless smile.
"…You are impossible," she murmured.
"Everyone keeps saying that," he sighed. "Still, you all stay."
He flashed her one last smile, then turned and walked away among the willows, the scent of tea and Chaos lingering in the quiet garden long after he vanished.
Behind him, Ye Chuyun touched her cheek.
In the lotus pond, the moon's reflection rippled, as if the water itself could not remain completely calm.
...
When it was time to go, the Everlasting Courtyard felt different.
The ancient tree's leaves rustled more softly, as if sensing that one of its laziest tenants was about to vanish to another world. The courtyard stones still held traces of Su Yonghuang's blazing sun dao, Bing Yuxia's frozen light, and the fierce echoes of breakthroughs that had shaken the Eastern Hundred Cities days before.
Now, seven women stood beneath the tree.
Su Yonghuang, Solar Immortal Physique quietly restrained, eleven Fate Palaces hidden behind calm eyes, the chaos-enhanced Complete Yang in her body flowing like molten gold beneath porcelain skin.
Li Shangyuan, jade radiance flowing, Pure Jade Physique serene and sharp, eight Fate Palaces revolving in perfect order, her energy as smooth and frictionless as polished jade.
Chen Baojiao, tyrannical springs coiled, tyrant valley immortal spring physique simmering beneath battle robes, eight Fate Palaces roaring, her aura like a volcano forced into human shape.
Xu Pei, halberd aura compressed into a single, precise line, six Fate Palaces blazing, the violent energy of her modified merit law rotating and compressing like artillery waiting to be fired.
Bai Jianzhen, sword at her waist, six Fate Palaces, dao heart cold as a clear night sky, the Sword Life Treasure at her side sheathed but never truly asleep.
Bing Yuxia, fan half-open, ten Fate Palaces shimmering like a world of snow, Ice Cold Mirror and Heaven Cutting Tablet resting in her sea of fate, frost gathering unconsciously around her feet.
Chi Xiaodie, Lion's Roar bloodline simmering beneath Heavenly Turtle steadiness, six Fate Palaces, her aura a mix of fierce beast and unyielding fortress.
They had all slept too little and cultivated too much in the days before. Now, their gazes were steady.
Ling Feng arrived last, of course.
He appeared atop the pavilion roof in a blink, Chaos Emeralds humming quietly in his Inner Void, then stepped down as if descending from a short stroll rather than bending space.
"Everyone's here," he said, satisfaction in his voice. "Good. Saves me the trouble of dragging anyone out of secluded cultivation."
Chen Baojiao snorted, arms crossed under her chest, eyes bright.
"As if you would hesitate to tear open someone's door," she said.
"True," he admitted cheerfully. "But this way is more elegant. I'm growing as a person."
Su Yonghuang's phoenix eyes swept over him, taking in the relaxed posture, the faint gleam of energy, the way space seemed to fold a little too easily around his steps.
"Everything is prepared?" she asked.
"Realm God's in a decent mood, and space is feeling nice today," Ling Feng said.
Deep beneath the academy, the colossal demonic pine that served as Realm God slumbered easily.
Ling Feng had already gone down there days ago, spoken to it in that half-casual, half-terrifying way of his, and carved a temporary, Chaos-stabilized passage between worlds through its authority.
"Once we step through," he added, "we'll be right in the Sacred Nether World. No detours through random void storms. I'm considerate like that."
Xu Pei swallowed, fingers tightening around the jade halberd at her side.
"Straight to… there…" she murmured.
Chi Xiaodie clicked her tongue, trying to cover her own nerves with bravado.
"Hmph. What's there to fear? With this bastard around, even if the sky collapses, he'll probably use it as a pillow."
Ling Feng pointed at her approvingly.
"See? That's the correct mindset," he said. "Alright. Let's go meet our ride."
...
The deepest sealed chamber of the Everlasting Courtyard glowed with ancient light.
Layers of dao patterns crisscrossed the stone walls, suppressing the Realm God's madness and anchoring the academy's roots. Some of those patterns predated the current generation entirely, linking back to forgotten emperors and old pacts.
In the middle, the colossal trunk loomed like a dark mountain, its bark carved with lines that predated empires. Each groove contained fragments of world laws, bits of authority that once allowed it to peer into multiple worlds at once.
Old Daoist Peng stood to one side, hands tucked into his sleeves, gaze solemn, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened by worry.
"Young Noble Ling," he said as Ling Feng and the seven women entered. "Once you depart, the passage cannot remain open for too long."
"I know," Ling Feng replied, tone casual but eyes serious. "Relax. I won't turn your academy into a two-way death gate. I like the courtyard too much."
He stepped forward, placing his palm against the ancient bark.
The Realm God stirred.
At first, it was just a shiver, the faint groaning of wood. Then a deeper roar rolled through the sealed chamber, not a sound heard with the ears but felt directly in the soul.
Chaos Force surged.
Green and cyan light swirled in Ling Feng's Inner Void, space and time bending around his palm. Yellow flickered, adjusting energy frequencies; red slept, ready to crush; purple watched quietly, soul threads stretching out to brush the ancient consciousness slumbering in the tree.
He didn't try to dominate the Realm God. He didn't slam his will down like a conqueror. Instead, he simply… adjusted.
He nudged the existing Dao lines, smoothed out knots of resentment, brushed aside chunks of rotten karma like a man clearing dead branches from a path. He shored up a few cracks in its sealed psyche, repairing damage that had lingered for eras.
Within the trunk, an eye opened—not a physical one, but a perception. It looked at him. Not at his cultivation base, not at his era, but at the thing behind him: the Chaos Force that existed outside the river of time and karma of this world.
The Realm God shivered, then let out a low, rumbling breath that shook dust from the ceiling.
Above its trunk, space warped.
A circular opening formed, rimmed by interlaced dao patterns—Heavenly Dao Academy's formation, the Realm God's innate authority, and Ling Feng's Chaos all twisted together.
Through the opening, faint, cold winds whispered. They were not the winds of the Mortal Emperor World. They carried the taste of ancient graves, ghostly qi, and a distant, spectral river that flowed against the sky.
Su Yonghuang's eyes narrowed. Even restrained, her Solar Immortal Physique reacted instinctively to that foreign world energy, flame dao rising to counter the chill.
Ling Feng turned back to his women.
"Alright," he said. "Everyone, come closer."
They moved without hesitation.
He lifted his hand.
Chaos emerald light spilled out, forming a translucent domain around them—a layered barrier that wrapped each woman separately while also connecting them all to his core. It was an invisible net woven from the properties of his Emerald Steps—space, time, power, energy, soul—all tuned toward one purpose: protection.
The enhanced physiques he'd forged with Chaos, the modified Heavenly Dao Academy merit laws he'd tailored for them, the Chaos-enhanced dao foundations—all of it resonated with his domain, tuning their bodies to the path ahead.
"Don't resist," he said, voice softer now. "Let my Chaos carry you. Sacred Nether's laws are different. I'll handle the first impact."
Su Yonghuang's Complete Yang energy stirred, brushing against his Chaos like a quiet sun acknowledging a deeper, stranger force. For a brief instant, a phantom sun appeared above her crown within the domain, then dissolved into golden threads that wove themselves into his barrier.
Bing Yuxia's ice dao flowed, feeling a distant kinship with some faraway frost in the Sacred Nether World's Misty Field, as if another extreme cold source were peering back through the opening. She shuddered and drew closer to him without thinking.
Li Shangyuan felt the Frost Dragon Sword at her waist hum. The jade-like smoothness of her Pure Jade Physique and the dragon's frost met the Chaos domain and settled, like a blade slipping into a perfect sheath.
Chen Baojiao's tyrannical springs roared beneath the surface, wanting to explode outward. Ling Feng's Chaos gave them channels instead, turning that explosive tendency into compressed potential, ready to be unleashed when needed.
Xu Pei, Bai Jianzhen, Chi Xiaodie—they all felt it. The way his Chaos smoothed the rough edges of their power, matched their individual rhythms, corrected hidden flaws they hadn't even known they had.
For all his joking and laziness, when he moved seriously, this was the result.
Ling Feng smiled, a little crooked, a little excited.
"Let's go," he said simply.
He stepped forward.
The Realm God's gate swallowed them in a single breath.