Deep within the Sea of Fog, the air was thick with Abyssal dust. All divine senses were heavily suppressed—except for Yun Che's.
An Abyssal Beast of the eighth level in the God-Destroying Realm slowly crept toward a woman dressed in black. A beast of this level appearing here was highly irregular, clearly the result of manipulation.
The woman wore a black veil, but it couldn't conceal her radiant, flawless beauty.
"Hm?" Yun Che, hiding in the shadows and waiting for the perfect moment to act, was surprised to see that the woman—none other than the Goddess of Eternal Night—had already noticed the beast far sooner than he anticipated.
Though she stood with her back to the Abyssal Beast, a strand of dark silk floated gently around her, ready to strike at any moment. Shen Wuyi's calm posture and seamless poise made it obvious she had sensed the danger well in advance.
"Qingyue's spiritual perception can pierce through the interference of Yuan Dust," Yun Che murmured to himself, impressed. "It's not quite at my level, but it far surpasses most at the sixth level of the God-Destroying Realm. Looks like my little setup won't be enough to fool her."
Originally, he had planned to use this eighth-level Abyssal Beast to stage a surprise attack—then appear just in time to rescue her, creating a natural reunion.
But from what he had observed earlier in the Inner Hall, it was certain: Xia Qingyue had truly lost her memory. Shen Wuyi's expressions and movements had all been too natural—no surprise upon seeing him, no hesitation, nothing more than a polite glance toward a stranger.
It was the worst-case scenario—and Yun Che had no choice but to accept it.
Now that he had another opportunity to be alone with her, he was determined to test if any trace of her past memories could still be awakened.
"Don't take unnecessary risks," Li Suo's voice rang out, tinged with unease. "We still don't know if Shen Wuyi is friend or foe. If you suddenly show yourself, you might provoke her."
Yun Che wasn't swayed. "You don't understand Qingyue. Even if she's lost her memories, I still exist somewhere deep within her heart. She might act against others—but never against me."
"You've never experienced love," he said softly. "You're pure, detached, above all things. You can't understand the weight of it."
He continued, voice tinged with both grief and pride, "Though Qingyue and I were never truly husband and wife, our bond had already passed through life and death. She endured the world's scorn, my own misunderstandings, and helped me time and time again—silently, selflessly. I once turned love into hatred... and in the end, I buried her with my own hands in this abyss. Yet she never explained anything. Not a word."
"This kind of love isn't fiery or passionate—but like a quiet stream, carved into the soul. It can never be erased."
Li Suo fell silent. She had no concept of romantic love—only universal compassion. She couldn't grasp the kind of bond Yun Che described. "Maybe... someday, I'll understand it," she said quietly.
"No," Yun Che replied, half-joking, "you even rejected the Heretic God and the Heaven-Smiting God Emperor. I doubt anyone in this world will be lucky enough to win your heart."
In his mind flashed the faces of Ni Xuan and Mo E—two unparalleled men of ancient times who had both failed to earn her love.
"You're wrong," Li Suo replied evenly. "There is someone."
"...???"
Yun Che suddenly paused.
Wait—could it be me?
If Li Suo had a physical body, Yun Che wouldn't mind... "pressing her down" and playing around a bit—if she were willing.
To win the heart of a woman who had rejected even gods—what a thrilling notion.
The black silk in Shen Wuyi's hand began to glow faintly. This was no ordinary artifact—it was the Holy Feather Ice Crystal Silk, a divine weapon bestowed by the Nameless God when she succeeded the title of Goddess of Eternal Night.
Back when she was given access to the Eternal Night Divine Kingdom's treasury, she could've chosen anything. Yet she chose this simple-looking silk strand—not because of its power, but because the moment she saw it, something stirred deep in her soul. An inexplicable connection.
At first glance, the Holy Feather Ice Crystal Silk looked pitch-black and unimpressive. But as Shen Wuyi infused it with her mysterious energy, its true form began to emerge: crystalline threads of blue and white gleamed through the fog, shimmering with sacred beauty.
She danced with the weapon, graceful yet deadly, confronting the eighth-level Abyssal Beast head-on. Despite the swirling fog and dim surroundings, in Yun Che's eyes, she looked like a celestial maiden performing a divine dance—a breathtaking contrast to the bleak, oppressive mist around them.
"Ice Phoenix Jade Silk..." Yun Che murmured, and the name pulled him back to the Blue Wind Ranking Tournament. Back then, Xia Qingyue had descended like a goddess, wielding the same weapon. Every movement had been poetry in motion.
Now, the scene before him and the memory from the past overlapped perfectly.
A faint smile touched Yun Che's lips.
Most wouldn't choose something as delicate as silk for a weapon. But those with a deep emotional attachment to it—who held onto long-lost memories—would choose it without hesitation.
Even without her memories, Qingyue had not forgotten the Ice Cloud Palace of the Blue Pole Star, the icy peaks, and the snow-covered gates. She was still that peerless fairy, unchanged in spirit.
Yun Che stood dazed, lost in the beauty of the moment—forgetting that Shen Wuyi was locked in a life-and-death battle with a monstrous Abyssal Beast.
The Holy Feather Ice Crystal Silk released a flurry of icy spikes, encircling the Abyssal Beast. Forged from the feathers of an ancient Ice Phoenix, its strength lay in enhancing ice-based soul power, drawing out the full potential of Shen Wuyi's abilities.
She could feel it too—how perfectly the weapon resonated with her energy. It was as if it were made just for her.
But no matter how well she wielded it, a disparity in realms was not something that could be bridged with weapons alone. And the Abyssal Beast, impervious to pain and frost, showed no signs of slowing down.
Blow after blow, Shen Wuyi pushed herself to her limits. Though her power surpassed most sixth-level God-Destroying Realm cultivators, the beast's raw strength and resistance gave her little chance to deal real damage.
Finally, the Holy Feather Ice Crystal Silk lashed out once more—but this time, it failed to inflict any harm. Instead, the Abyssal Beast clamped down on it with its massive jaws.
Then came its claws—sweeping down with devastating force. The air itself trembled under the weight of its strike, and even the ever-present Yuan Dust was blown away.
"Oh no!" Yun Che snapped out of his trance, alarm flashing across his face. For the first time in ages, true panic gripped him.
Li Suo didn't say a word. She hadn't wanted to disturb Yun Che's fleeting moment of peace. In that brief window, she had sensed something she hadn't felt from him since their descent into the Abyss—serenity.
Of course, she assumed everything that happened to Shen Wuyi was just another move in Yun Che's grand scheme...
(End of Chapter)