Chapter 134: Main Story End
A century of peace had passed since the evil god’s demise. The world had returned to normal.
A hundred years ago, the Demon Lord and the Sword Saint had forged a pact in the Land of Fallen Gods, ensuring peace between the two realms. There had been dissent, of course, from those who clung to old hatreds, but the two leaders’ authority was absolute. Their opinions held no weight.
It had seemed like a tenuous peace, a mutual agreement to ignore each other, until recently, when rumors had begun to spread: the Sword Saint and the Demon Lord were getting married.
It had seemed absurd, a fantastical tale, until people noticed the changes at the Ejian Sect. The austere, white-walled buildings were now adorned with colorful decorations, the usually somber disciples’ faces lit up with joy.
It was as if a splash of vibrant red had been added to a monochrome painting, bringing it to life.
A small black cat darted across the rooftops of the Ejian Sect, a panting dog hot on her heels.
“Jingxue, wait for me!” the dog cried, her voice filled with a playful exasperation.
The cat paused, turning back to wait for the exhausted dog. “Take a break,” she said.
The dog, struggling to sit up, shook her head, then her gaze drifted towards the disciples bustling below.
Today was Luo Nianshang and Qiu Yingxi’s wedding day. After years of conflict, they had finally found their way to each other.
That old agreement no longer mattered, but the little dog was still rather smug. She had been the first to recognize the potential for a relationship between them.
And she had, for her own selfish reasons, encouraged it.
Bai Jingxue, watching Lü Qingyan’s familiar smug expression, her furry face practically glowing with pride, couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“How did this happen so fast?” she asked, her cat face impassive. “How did you manage to resolve the male lead’s harem situation?”
Lü Qingyan chuckled. “I don’t know,” she said.
She truly didn’t know. It had all happened so naturally. None of them had needed much convincing.
But Bai Jingxue had her reasons for asking. Not only had the Demon Lord and the Sword Saint gotten together, but Fu Yuan had also ended up with one of the male lead’s former concubines, thanks to Lü Qingyan’s meddling.
And Ying, now the Dragon King, was relentlessly pursuing the left envoy. She Yuwei was still writing her strange stories, muttering to herself. And Zhu Chi and the little whale demon were also happy.
Everyone, human, demon, even ghost, seemed to be finding their happy endings.
Bai Jingxue calculated the timeline. Fang Yue Lian’s soul should be complete now. They would be able to attend their beloved disciple’s wedding.
Lü Qingyan, watching the contemplative cat, knew the answer to Bai Jingxue’s unspoken question, but she wanted to hear it from Bai Jingxue herself. Then she could finally tell Bai Jingxue, “Your worries were unfounded. I still love you.”
She snuggled closer to the cat. “Can you tell me why you left now?” she asked softly.
Bai Jingxue glanced at her, her expression one of feigned annoyance. “Didn’t you experience my entire life in that dream a hundred years ago?” she asked. “Don’t you know already?”
Lü Qingyan nuzzled Bai Jingxue’s cheek, her voice a playful whine. “I want to hear you say it.”
Bai Jingxue, despite the shiver that ran down her spine, couldn’t deny her weakness for Lü Qingyan’s affection. She snorted, turning her head away. “I had a terminal illness,” she mumbled. “I wanted to let you go.”
She turned back, glaring at Lü Qingyan. “Are you satisfied now?”
Her expression was fierce, but her eyes held no real anger.
Lü Qingyan paused, then said softly, “Even if that were true, I would still want to be with you, every second, every minute, every day, for all eternity.”
Her words touched Bai Jingxue’s heart, and she was grateful for her cat form, her fur hiding her blush.
She sighed, her voice soft. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Her emotions overwhelmed her, and she wiped a tear from her eye, her smile bitter. “I’m sorry I always leave you,” she whispered.
Their journey had been long and arduous, filled with both joy and sorrow. But it was over now.
Lü Qingyan wanted to ask more questions, but she didn’t want to upset Bai Jingxue. She was good at lightening the mood.
Glancing at the festive decorations, she said, her voice teasing, “Do you think we’re considered bridesmaids? Or dowry?”
Bai Jingxue, amused by her ridiculous question, chuckled. “You’re becoming quite the comedian,” she said.
Snow began to fall, its flakes light and delicate, settling on their fur. One landed on Bai Jingxue’s nose, slowly melting, and she shook her head, dislodging it.
It was like a scene from their past, the snow falling, Bai Jingxue turning to see Lü Qingyan standing beneath a streetlamp, her smile bright, her eyes filled with love.
She had been alone for so long that she had forgotten how to connect with others. She could solve complex equations, but she couldn’t solve the equation of her own heart.
How could she reciprocate Lü Qingyan’s love without betraying her own fears, her own insecurities?
She had foreseen a future filled with pain, and that imagined future had poisoned the present, preventing her from taking a chance.
She had to be brave.
The snowflakes above her suddenly veered away, and she realized Lü Qingyan had cast a spell. Lü Qingyan was smiling at her, her eyes filled with a gentle warmth.
She wanted to make Lü Qingyan happy.
She twitched her tail, then said softly, “Qingyan.”
Lü Qingyan, her tail wagging, her voice cheerful, replied, “Yeah?”
Bai Jingxue’s green eyes softened, her gaze locking with Lü Qingyan’s. “Qingyan,” she said, her voice a soft whisper, “I love you.”
Lü Qingyan froze, then her tail wagged even faster, a blur of white. She tackled Bai Jingxue, nuzzling her face against Bai Jingxue’s. “I love you too,” she said, her voice filled with joy.
Bai Jingxue, chuckling, transformed back into her human form, holding Lü Qingyan close.
A procession of carriages, their color a vibrant red, adorned with flowers, a majestic vermilion bird flying above them, a group of immortals leading the way, appeared on the horizon.
The Ejian Sect disciples, kneeling, their voices echoing in unison, shouted, “Farewell, Ancestor!”
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan watched as the procession disappeared, their hearts filled with a quiet joy. “This is a much better ending than the original,” Bai Jingxue said.
Meanwhile, at the Demon Palace, the Demon Lord, also dressed in red, a veil concealing her face, sat in a carriage, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.
“Qiu Yingxi, you idiot!” she muttered to herself. “It’s just a wedding. Why are you so nervous?”
Her self-deprecating comments only intensified her anxiety.
The left and right envoys, flanking the carriage, sensed her unease. “Your Excellency,” the left envoy asked, “are you feeling unwell?”
The Demon Lord, too proud to admit her nervousness, said, “I’m fine.”
The left envoy, unconvinced, said, “Please tell me if you’re not feeling well, Your Excellency.”
Her concern made the Demon Lord feel like she was being mothered.
Annoyed, she decided to poke fun at the left envoy. “I heard that sea creature is coming to the wedding,” she said, feigning concern. “I think she’s here for you, not for the wedding.”
The left envoy’s face, hidden behind her mask, paled.
She wanted to escape, to run far, far away, but that pink dragon was relentlessly pursuing her.
She was dreading the wedding. She was already planning her escape, a long, solitary retreat, perhaps a hundred years or so. The right envoy could handle the Demon Palace.
The right envoy, sitting on the other side of the carriage, suddenly felt a surge of anxiety, a sense of unease. She looked around, but everything seemed normal.
The Demon Lord and the Sword Saint were both incredibly powerful individuals. No one would dare to attack them.
Their wedding was being held at a newly constructed residence located halfway between the Ejian Sect and the Demon Palace.
Their parents were long gone, but Luo Nianshang’s masters had been resurrected.
Fang Yue Lian, having just returned, had been dragged to the wedding. She was nervous, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, in an unfamiliar world, but Fang Xin’s presence was a comfort.
So much time had passed. The quiet, introverted child, clutching her sword, had become a powerful cultivator. And thankfully, Fang Xin’s death hadn’t diminished Luo Nianshang’s kindness.
Luo Nianshang, her composure momentarily forgotten, her voice filled with emotion, cried out, “Master Yue Lian!”
Fang Yue Lian, her voice as gentle as ever, said, “Luo Nianshang, I have failed you. I allowed you to suffer.”
Luo Nianshang, her voice urgent, said, “No, Master. Although you weren’t there, I never forgot your teachings. Please don’t blame yourself.”
Fang Yue Lian, seeing her sincerity, her own eyes filling with tears, said, “I know. But this is your wedding day. You shouldn’t be dwelling on the past. You have a guest to attend to.”
The Demon Lord, hearing her master’s words, her anxiety spiking, quickly said, “I’m fine!”
Then, realizing her outburst had been too enthusiastic, she fidgeted with her sleeves.
Fang Yue Lian, sensing her nervousness, smiled. “Alright,” she said. “The ceremony is over. You may retire to your chambers.”
The words “retire to your chambers” intensified the Demon Lord’s anxiety.
After the evil god’s death, she had avoided Luo Nianshang for a while, then, unable to resist, she had created various disguises, wanting to see if Luo Nianshang was looking for her, and how.
She had even been wearing a disguise on her wedding day, but Luo Nianshang had seen through it, dragging her back to her true form.
She wasn’t sure what had happened, but she sensed that Luo Nianshang was still angry.
She was afraid.
Her fear made her slow her steps, her pace falling behind Luo Nianshang’s, the red silk ribbon connecting them stretching taut.
Luo Nianshang stopped, turning to her, her voice cold. “Are you afraid of me?”
The Demon Lord bristled. She might be afraid, but she wouldn’t admit it.
She walked past Luo Nianshang, her voice a defiant challenge. “What do you think?”
Luo Nianshang didn’t answer. She simply continued walking.
They reached the bridal chamber, its red candles flickering, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Despite the snow falling outside, the Demon Lord felt warm, her cheeks flushed.
She didn’t dare sit on the bed. She settled onto a chair instead.
The veil was lifted, and she stared at Luo Nianshang, who was still veiled. Luo Nianshang rarely wore such vibrant colors.
Luo Nianshang, her patience wearing thin, said, “Your turn.”
The Demon Lord, startled, was about to make a sarcastic comment, then she stopped herself.
She couldn’t tease Luo Nianshang, not now. She didn’t want to ruin this.
She lifted Luo Nianshang’s veil, then stared, her voice a soft murmur of approval. “Not bad,” she said.
Two cups of wine sat on the table. She understood the mortal custom. She watched as Luo Nianshang picked up one of the cups, then, her voice filled with a sudden, surprised realization, she asked, “Are you really going to marry me?”
Luo Nianshang frowned. “I don’t make jokes,” she said.
The Demon Lord, seeing her displeasure, chuckled nervously. “I was just kidding,” she said quickly.
She drank the wine, its low alcohol content barely registering.
She set down the cup, about to comment on its mildness, when she saw Luo Nianshang, her hand pressed against her forehead, her cheeks flushed.
She can’t be… drunk, can she?
She poked Luo Nianshang’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Luo Nianshang looked up at her, her eyes accusing. “You tricked me,” she said, her voice a soft whine.
Luo Nianshang’s unexpected vulnerability made the Demon Lord’s heart ache. She had used many disguises, but she had never meant any harm. She had simply been insecure.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she stammered.
“Then what did you intend to do?” Luo Nianshang asked, her voice slurred.
The Demon Lord’s heart pounded. Luo Nianshang was drunk. She probably wouldn’t remember this.
“I just wanted to be near you,” she whispered.
Luo Nianshang’s head slumped onto the table.
The Demon Lord, amused by her low tolerance for alcohol, but also touched by her vulnerability, leaned closer, her voice a mischievous whisper. “I love you,” she said.
Luo Nianshang’s eyes snapped open, her gaze intense, her hand grabbing the Demon Lord’s wrist. “You admit it,” she said, her voice a low murmur.
The Demon Lord realized she had been tricked. She was about to deny it when she saw the hope in Luo Nianshang’s eyes, so fragile, so tentative, that she couldn’t bring herself to lie.
“Yes,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve loved you since I was a child. What about you?”
Luo Nianshang never lied, but the Demon Lord still couldn’t quite believe it. She had always found reasons to doubt Luo Nianshang’s affection.
Luo Nianshang, seeing her vulnerability, her usual arrogance gone, her voice softening, pulled her into an embrace. “Listen,” she whispered, her lips close to the Demon Lord’s ear. “My heart beats only for you.”
Her words, so unlike her usual stoic pronouncements, made the Demon Lord laugh, tears streaming down her face. “You’ve been reading those storybooks again, haven’t you?”
Luo Nianshang nodded.
The Demon Lord, her laughter subsiding, said, “I could tell you a better story.”
Luo Nianshang’s eyes lit up. “What kind of story?”
The Demon Lord, her fingers playing with her hair, a mischievous smile curving her lips, said, “The story of a fool who couldn’t see through my disguises.”
Luo Nianshang, knowing exactly who she was referring to, didn’t answer. She simply stepped forward, scooping the Demon Lord into her arms.
The Demon Lord, startled, her heart pounding, clung to Luo Nianshang.
Luo Nianshang, sensing her fear, paused. “Are you scared?” she asked. “I can put you down.”
The Demon Lord shook her head, her arms tightening around Luo Nianshang’s neck, her voice a soft murmur. “Have mercy on me, my deity.”
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