Chapter Fifteen: The Death of Lu Xue

Hearing Bai Xi speak, I was filled with hope, but the answer I received was a firm, simple reply: “Dead.” Disappointed, I couldn’t help but wonder how the matter between Lord Yunxiao and Lu Xue could be so tangled and elusive, curiosity blossoming in my heart.

Bai Xi then recounted the story to me.

It turned out that, back then, the God of Slaughter intended to execute Lu Xue by beheading, but Lord Yunxiao and Lord Spring Wind believed she was innocent. The situation was urgent, and they had no time to prove her innocence, so they secretly joined forces to rescue her. Lord Spring Wind deliberately advised the God of Slaughter to use strangulation instead, the purpose being to preserve Lu Xue's body intact and deceive both the God of Slaughter and the entire army. Lord Yunxiao fed Lu Xue a rice cake, which actually contained a Resurrection Pill; whoever ate it would appear dead, suffering the same agony as true death, but after the effects wore off, they would revive.

At this point, I was puzzled. “Since that’s the case, how did Lu Xue die? Did Lord Yunxiao fail?”

“Of course not! Yunxiao used a white silk transformed from the Xuanjing Sword—a magical artifact he gave to Lu Xue, bound to her. The sword absorbed some of the force, ensuring Lu Xue wouldn’t be strangled,” Bai Xi replied.

“Oh, so why not just pretend? Why go to such lengths?” I didn’t understand.

Bai Xi tapped my head. “Do you think the God of Slaughter and his celestial soldiers are as foolish as you? They can tell whether force is used or not! To deceive their eyes, everything must be flawless!”

“Then how did Lu Xue actually die?” My curiosity intensified, demanding answers.

Bai Xi sighed. “Bai Ze, entrusted by Yunxiao, took Lu Xue to the cliff of Mount Wu, supposedly to let beasts devour her remains, but in reality, it was a cover to swap her out unnoticed. Unexpectedly, Lu Xue was undergoing her tribulation at that moment. Bai Ze blocked one heavenly strike and immediately fainted, leaving two more that struck Lu Xue, shattering her soul, leaving nothing behind.”

“Her soul shattered... Lu Xue died so completely…” I murmured. It was said Yunxiao waited for Lu Xue for forty thousand years; I had thought Lu Xue’s body was gone, but her immortal essence remained. If her soul was destroyed, then Yunxiao’s so-called waiting must have been utter despair.

“Yunxiao, bearing wounds, rushed from the battlefield, only to witness Lu Xue’s soul dissipate, vanish into nothingness. With nothing left, he sealed his divine veins and leaped from Mount Wu. If not for Lord Spring Wind discovering him and using nearly all his divine power to save him, Yunxiao would have perished as well. It was not easy…” Bai Xi’s tone grew sorrowful.

So this was the truth. Lord Yunxiao was not as heartless as I’d imagined. He schemed, he loved deeply… The so-called slaying of his wife was fate’s cruel play, disaster and calamity.

“How could the God of Slaughter be so ruthless? He’s Yunxiao’s own uncle!” I couldn’t understand his actions.

“Lu Xue was framed by someone with ulterior motives, accused of treason. The letter contained all military secrets entrusted by the God of Slaughter to Yunxiao. Lu Xue often slipped in and out of the barracks suspiciously. Both evidence and witnesses pointed to her being a spy from the Witch Spirit Realm, a witch seducing Yunxiao. With war imminent and no room for error, the God of Slaughter sacrificed her to rally the troops. Yet she was simply the white goose planting pear trees on Lord Spring Wind’s Hundred Flower Island,” Bai Xi shook his head and sighed.

“Who had ulterior motives? Was it a princess from the Heavenly Palace?” I recalled hearing of this when climbing the mountain with Wulan and the others.

“The eldest princess of the Heavenly Palace, Chang Yang, aunt to the current Heavenly Emperor, and a female general in the army. She was close friends with Lu Xue. Chang Yang loved Yunxiao, but Yunxiao and Lu Xue were betrothed, so Chang Yang, out of jealousy, framed Lu Xue,” Bai Xi explained.

Such a friend was wasted, I thought.

“Why did Lu Xue keep leaving the barracks, arousing suspicion?” I asked.

“Presumably, she often slipped out to find a suitable place to undergo her tribulation, afraid Yunxiao would be distracted in battle and so didn’t tell him. Silly girl…” Bai Xi lamented.

“What about Princess Chang Yang? Didn’t she receive punishment?” I asked.

“The Heavenly Palace wished to protect Chang Yang—wishful thinking! Yunxiao and Spring Wind would not let it go. After that ordeal, both ascended as gods of Light and Time. The Heavenly Palace, wary of their power, had to bind Chang Yang with the Immortal Binding Rope, suppressing her forever beneath Mount Wu. A proclamation was made to the heavens, clearing Lu Xue’s name.”

Unfortunately, I was born too long after these events to witness the Heavenly Palace’s proclamation, and could only hear fragments from others. I’d always thought Yunxiao was power-hungry and heartless. Clearly, I had misunderstood him.

“Lord Yunxiao avenged his beloved,” I said.

“Three adversaries: one’s soul destroyed, one eternally suppressed, one single for forty thousand years,” Bai Xi sighed.

“And the God of Slaughter? Did he feel no guilt for killing the innocent?” I asked.

“Evidence was conclusive, and Lu Xue herself confessed. The God of Slaughter had no choice—on the battlefield, righteousness rules all. After the war, a great chasm appeared on the Thirty-Three Heavens. The God of Slaughter transformed himself into Xuanjing to mend the broken sky, fulfilling his fate and perishing,” Bai Xi’s tone grew heavy.

Such a tragedy, all born from jealousy and rivalry. I couldn’t help but sigh. Then, a thought struck me—how did Bai Xi know so many details that others didn’t? He, usually so unruly, recounted everything with solemn clarity, as if he’d lived it himself, not as if he’d invented it.

“What’s your connection to Lord Yunxiao? How do you know all this so clearly?” I suddenly asked.

“Of course! He’s my second…” Bai Xi started, then paused, clearing his throat. “He’s my second uncle!”

“Second uncle? Lord Yunxiao never married in forty thousand years. Is your aunt Lu Xue?” I found it incredible.

“Ah? Mm… Yes!” Bai Xi nodded.

“Is Bai Hao as well?”

“Ah… Yes!”

“You’d better not be fooling me!”

“Myself and Bai Hao move freely in Kunlun Void—can anyone from Jade Purity do that, you silly little crow?” Bai Xi retorted.

Thinking back, it was true—Bai Hao and Bai Xi’s abilities were extraordinary, seemingly unconstrained in Kunlun Void.

No wonder Bai Hao hadn’t committed suicide, no wonder he could dwell in such a tranquil clinic, no wonder he treated a hundred golden leaves as nothing, no wonder he claimed he could enter Jade Purity anytime. He was related to Yunxiao; he was Yunxiao’s kin—why would he need a master?

Heavens, was I so starved on Pursuing Immortals Cliff that I assumed Bai Hao was a suicidal immortal disciple? He was so familiar with Kunlun Void—I hadn’t realized he was connected to Yunxiao!

“For forty thousand years, countless immortal maidens have adored my… second uncle… He refused them all. That’s why I must resolve his marriage; after so long, it’s enough,” Bai Xi said airily.

So Bai Xi truly came here to arrange a match for his second uncle.

“Little darling, let’s discuss something?” Bai Xi approached with a fawning expression.

As expected, all this preamble was to swindle me again.

“Just say it. And don’t call me little darling—it’s disgusting. We’re not close,” I replied bluntly.

“As long as I’m close with you. The Xuanjing Sword has so many stories. You, a mere child, shouldn’t carry it—why not give it to me?” Bai Xi’s roguish grin returned.

After all, it was still about their Xuanjing Sword.

“No!”

“I’ll exchange it for my newly brewed aromatic dew!”

“Even less! It smells awful!”

Bai Xi’s face darkened, threatening, “If I wanted to kill you, little crow, it’d be easy, but it’d mar my elegance. Yunxiao sealed it in Fragmented Jade Spring—you just lucked out finding it. Why not let me enhance it?”

“No! I found it, unsealed it, and maybe it’ll recognize me as its new master in a few days. I should treasure it,” I said deliberately to annoy him.

Bai Xi glared, “It’s not yours, you know. The mountain is dangerous; Bai Hao only lent it to you out of pity. Fool!”

I smiled smugly, “Say whatever you like. If you want it, just take it—why bother asking my permission?”

“Enough! I’m speaking kindly—don’t be ungrateful. Give it back now,” Bai Xi urged impatiently.

“If I return it, I’d give it to Bai Hao or Lord Yunxiao—why to you?” I retorted.

“Fine! Watch closely!” Bai Xi summoned a bronze mirror, placing it on my lap. He pressed my head to the mirror, waved his hand, and an image appeared.

Snow drifted across the sky, immortal figures in white marched in formation amid the clouds. White spirit birds circled, crying mournfully. Several immortal maidens danced in midair, scattering white blossoms.

Within the procession, a figure in white crown, white robe, and white boots rode a white celestial steed, majestic, though his features were indistinct, only vague outlines visible. Behind him, eight white qilin beasts drew a white ceremonial carriage adorned with white floral drapes. Following were immortals in white, bearing offerings of celestial pears.

Such a display—it was unclear whether it marked a funeral or a wedding.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“The Cloud Mirror records Yunxiao’s wedding,” Bai Xi replied.

“Lord Yunxiao really held a ghost wedding with Lu Xue?” I exclaimed.

“Of course. He never breaks his word,” Bai Xi said.

“Why can’t I see your second uncle clearly? Wipe the mirror. Or release the immobilization spell—it’s so blurry, my eyes ache, I want to rub them.” The mirror was fuzzy, and I seized the chance to try and escape his immobilization, uncertain why he kept me frozen.

Bai Xi chuckled, “You’re too foolish to break even a simple spell! Make do. It’s not easy to see a god clearly.”

“It’s your Cloud Mirror that’s outdated,” I mocked.

“Nonsense! I just don’t want you to see clearly!”

I continued watching. The procession advanced through the sky to Kunlun Void; Lord Yunxiao flew down from his steed, approached the carriage, ascended, lifted the veil… Moments later, he descended holding a robe, covering it with white silk, and, guided by celestial attendants, walked toward the grand hall… Step by step, he walked, each step seeming to tread on hearts, on tears… His white robes fluttered in the wind, stirring my own heart, uncertain where it should rest.

As I watched, it seemed that beside Yunxiao was Lu Xue in a white immortal gown, graceful, light-footed. The two entered the hall hand in hand, bowing to heaven and earth, to parents, to all beings, and finally to each other…

In the desolate bridal chamber, white gauze floated, white candles flickered. Lord Yunxiao sat alone by the bed, embracing Lu Xue’s robe, crystal tears falling drop by drop onto the fabric…

Drop by drop, tears fell onto the mirror, which, already blurry, showed nothing at all…

“Ah! Little crow! Moved as you are, don’t cry on the mirror—it’ll break!” Bai Xi snatched it away.

I silently wept, my eyes aching, throat tight, my heart sore—how could Yunxiao’s story be so heartbreaking…

“Why do you cry so much… Why are you so easily moved…” Bai Xi seemed at a loss seeing my tears.

“If you want the Xuanjing Sword to enhance the match, how will it help?” I asked.

He handed me the mirror. In it, a stunning immortal maiden rested in a pear orchard.

“She resembles Lu Xue by sixty percent. Watch again,” Bai Xi waved his hand.

Another maiden appeared, similar but even more beautiful, graceful and ethereal.

Bai Xi showed me a dozen beautiful immortals in succession.

“These resemble her, but none match Lu Xue’s beauty. To arrange a match for Yunxiao, we lack a key treasure to enhance it,” Bai Xi said.

“This Xuanjing Sword,” I replied.

“Exactly. If you give it to me, you can name your conditions,” Bai Xi said.

Rarely did Bai Xi, usually so flippant, speak so earnestly. Yunxiao’s ghost wedding stirred melancholy in my heart, and to help true love was something I wished to do. The Xuanjing Sword was so important—even though I found and unsealed it, I had no right to claim it. Besides, if Yunxiao knew Bai Hao had given it to me, Bai Hao might be blamed.

“No conditions. I’ll give it to you—I don’t want it. But Bai Hao entrusted it to me, so I must tell him I’ve given it to you,” I said.

“Just tell him you were wracked with pain, dizzy, vomiting and purging,” Bai Xi suggested.

“Alright,” I agreed.

“If I take it, you mustn’t regret it,” Bai Xi warned.

“I never break my word,” I replied.

Bai Xi swiftly took the Xuanjing bracelet from my wrist.

“I won’t let you suffer. I guarantee you’ll succeed in becoming Yunxiao’s disciple. This deal is a win-win, right?” Bai Xi gathered up the bracelet, excited.

“No!” I refused flatly.