When did it truly begin?
Yù Qíng kept her eyes closed against the damp pillow. Her body still throbbed, weak and spent. Her mind, however, would not stop.
Ah… it was when he nearly killed me.
The irony almost made her laugh. The man she loved had boiled her meridians from the inside out, trying to drag her with him into death. And her? Had she felt fear? Had she been afraid? No. She had only looked at him after it was all over, still covered in blood, and understood.
He was no longer just her everything.
He was Everything.
The thought sank deeper every time she tried to push it away. He had taught her, since she was young, to reflect. To look inward without mercy. And she had looked. She had thought until it hurt. She had thought until she realized that what she felt was no longer just possessiveness. It was something else. Something older. Sicker. Purer.
She had always wanted to break the legs of any girl who looked at him the wrong way. That had never changed. But after the volcano… after that void was born in his chest and began devouring the very laws of the world… she could no longer pretend he was human. He was more. Much more.
And then her body began to fail during dual cultivation. He was growing stronger, far too quickly. And she was no longer able to provide what he needed.
Before, she had planned to kill her own sister for daring to desire what was hers. Now… now her mind was beginning to whisper worse things. Necessary things.
"If you don't wake up, I'm going to end up sleeping with him…"
The shrill voice cut through her thoughts. Yù Qíng slowly opened her eyes.
"Finally."
Yù Méi stood beside the bed with her arms crossed, floating a few millimeters above the floor. Her golden dress shone clean, as if none of what had happened on that bed minutes ago had touched her.
"I called you like ten times," the younger sister clicked her tongue. "You couldn't even last an hour and a half properly and you've already been out for more than two. You don't seem like the strongest woman who has ever set foot in this mortal realm, ~sis."
Yù Qíng turned her face against the mattress. Her spine cracked as she forced her exhausted body to sit up. The sheet slipped, revealing skin marked with purple and red.
She looked at her sister's mocking face and thought, without opening her mouth:
If you knew how good it is… I'm sure you wouldn't care about my threats to kill you anymore. You'd crawl for more, just like that.
She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room.
"Where's my heaven?"
"He went down to the stream," Yù Méi shrugged. "Told me not to follow him until he finished cleansing the energy from his body. Speaking of which… 'My heaven'?"
The younger girl tilted her head, curious.
"You've been talking weird ever since we came back. It's been almost a year since I last heard you call him by his real name. I know you have some strange Law in your head, but it can't be that serious, right?"
Yù Qíng slipped on her sandals. She stood up slowly, supporting herself on the edge of the bed. Her black eyes met her sister's almond-shaped irises.
"If you saw him the way I see him," the eldest sister's voice came out flat and irrefutable, "you would never dare call him by name again."
The younger girl did not back down. On the contrary, Yù Méi opened a wide, defiant smile.
"I would love to see him the way you see him," the teenager replied, letting out a provocative and dreamy little laugh.
Yù Qíng rolled her eyes. Her patience for her sister's indirect remarks had dried up months ago. She let go of the wooden bedframe and turned to face the younger girl, determined to cut the problem at its root. Pride no longer mattered; what mattered was her husband's Inner Universe hunger.
"You know what, Méi? I've been thinking. You…"
The cabin's latch clicked.
The heavy bamboo door was pushed open. Zhì Yuǎn stepped onto the wooden floor. His gray robe was clean, his dark hair still damp from the stream. The air in the room changed the moment he entered, filled by the simple physical presence of the man.
Yù Qíng stopped speaking mid-sentence.
Her sister vanished from her mind. The conversation evaporated. The Priestess's eyes locked onto his face, and the legs that had been trembling with exhaustion moments ago moved on their own. She crossed the space in three steps and wrapped her arms around Zhì Yuǎn's waist, pressing her face against his broad chest as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
Zhì Yuǎn's large hand descended slowly and began stroking his wife's black hair. Pressed against his chest, Yù Qíng let out a low, satisfied purr, her eyes closed.
"The seclusion period is over," he said, his rustic voice filling the room. "It's time for us to head south. The targets now are the hegemons of this plane. To open the true portals, the four great sects need a concentration of energy that we—"
"Hey, hey, hold on."
Yù Méi's hurried voice cut him off. The younger girl took two steps forward, uncrossing her arms.
"What were you about to say before he came in, big sister?"
Zhì Yuǎn stopped speaking. His hand froze in the air. He raised an eyebrow, looking at his sister-in-law with genuine surprise.
I really gave this girl too much leeway, he thought. Now she thinks she can even interrupt me while I'm speaking.
Against his chest, Yù Qíng swallowed hard. She pulled her face away from her husband's robe. Her black eyes shifted between her sister's defiant posture and Zhì Yuǎn's questioning gaze.
"Ah… about that…" she murmured. Her once sharp voice now sounded weak. "My heaven, I can't anymore…"
The room sank into silence.
Zhì Yuǎn held his wife's shoulders and gently pushed her back, staring into her eyes.
"What can't you?"
Yù Qíng pressed her lips together. Her eyes glistened with frustration.
"I can't hold you back anymore," she answered, her voice coming out in a forced breath. "I'm preventing you from reaching greater heights because of my low tolerance. Your Yang is too heavy for me to endure. For me, it's wonderful… my cultivation is advancing at a speed that shouldn't even be possible. But you? You force yourself to sweat just to please me, pretending our sessions are enough when they don't even last a blink compared to before. I need, my heaven… for you to take my sister as—"
The sentence died in the air.
Zhì Yuǎn's right hand shot up in a swift motion and grabbed Yù Qíng's jaw. His long, calloused fingers squeezed her pale cheeks firmly, pursing her lips and turning the rest of her offer into a muffled, meaningless mumble.
"I already promised you," his voice cut through the room, grave and non-negotiable. "Forever, only you. Your sister will eventually find someone. The path of cultivation is long. But I am yours alone, just as you are mine alone."
Yù Qíng's pupils dilated. The sick logic and sacrifice she had built in her own mind were completely pulverized by the pure possessiveness of those words. She pulled her face from his grip, buried her head against her husband's chest, and began rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his robe.
"You're right, my heaven," she whispered, her voice choked, docile and completely submissive once again. "I'm being very childish. How could I think of demanding something from you…"
"You can always demand anything from me. I will give you everything, always." He smiled faintly, his hand returning to massage the back of her neck.
A few steps away, the blood drained from Yù Méi's face.
Her jade-like skin turned pale as wax. The teenager's stomach dropped so fast she tasted bile in her throat. Her dream had been a single second away. She had heard her sister offer. She had felt the heat of the moment. And in less than three sentences, everything had evaporated.
He hadn't rejected her with anger.
He had simply treated her as something secondary.
Something that would "eventually find someone."
"I-I…" Yù Méi stammered, her lips trembling.
Rage, humiliation, and pain surged all at once, burning her throat like acid.
"WHY DON'T YOU TWO CARE ABOUT WHAT I WANT TOO?!" the scream exploded, tearing through the silence of the cabin.
The girl squeezed her wet eyes shut, shoulders hunched as the crying finally broke through her throat. The mask of a cold, seductive woman she had worn for the past few hours melted away.
Heavy footsteps sounded across the floor.
Zhì Yuǎn released his wife from his arms. He walked slowly toward the younger girl and stopped in front of her.
Yù Méi's legs gave out completely. She fell to her knees on the bamboo floor, the dull thud echoing through the wood. Her body sank, reduced to absolute vulnerability before him.
The man's broad shadow covered Yù Méi's trembling form.
He lowered himself, resting one knee on the wood, and raised his calloused hand.
His large fingers took hold of her chin, lifting her tear-streaked face toward the light.
"Look at me," he said. His grave voice came out calm.
She raised her gaze to him, those almond-shaped eyes that always asked for more, now filled with tears. He weighed his words for a second, because he knew exactly what was coming next.
"Where is this outburst coming from, Méi? Is it just envy of your sister's power?"
The question came dry, piercing through what remained of the armor she was trying to maintain.
She raised her trembling hands and grabbed the wrist of the man holding her face.
"Envy of her power?" her voice came out cracked, mixed with tears. Her red, almond-shaped eyes met his dark irises. "You think I care about her foundation? A-Yuǎn… you spent my entire life taking care of me. When I was just a brat who wanted to play and test your patience on the veranda, you stayed there. Teaching me, correcting me, dedicating your time to me."
Tears ran hot down the girl's cheeks.
"You opened my chest at that inn. You broke my shoulders and fixed my channels. The pain was going to tear me in half, but I didn't die because your hands held me. You washed the filth from my body and told me I had become beautiful. You praised me when I killed. I am what your time and your hands made of me."
Yù Méi tightened her fingers around his wrist. Her full chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the golden dress, her breathing ragged.
"And after raising me like this… you locked me outside that door for four years. Four years listening to the walls tremble every night. I spent entire days feeling your scent, your energy…"
Her voice broke amid the sobs.
The silence in the cabin became dense and heavy.
Yù Méi stared at the man in front of her, throwing all of her pride onto the floor.
"I can't stay outside anymore, A-Yuǎn," her voice dropped into a desperate, raw whisper. "I don't want to be just your disciple anymore. I don't want to be the sister-in-law you have to tolerate because of a promise to my father. I love you. I want my place inside. Forever yours."
Zhì Yuǎn maintained his gaze on the girl's tear-stained face. He did not release her chin and did not pull his wrist away. The weight of those words filled the space between them, anchored in a lifetime of care that had now transformed into pure obsession.
The man opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of cracking wood cut off his intention.
Yù Qíng took a heavy step across the room. The Priestess's black eyes burned.
The wooden floor creaked beneath Yù Qíng's weight.
The eldest sister stopped a few steps from her husband and her sister. Her navy-blue silk swayed slowly. The temperature in the room plummeted. The killing intent radiating from her was physical and real, making the sweat on Yù Méi's face turn cold instantly.
"You think I'm going to tolerate this any longer?" Yù Qíng's voice rasped, low and harsh. She ignored her sister and stared directly at Zhì Yuǎn's face. "For years I tolerated her stares because she has my blood and because you were the one who fixed her. But I refuse to spend the rest of my life watching this girl lust after you from the corners."
Yù Qíng's pale hand descended. Qi condensed at her fingertips, sharp and ready to slice flesh.
"Either you take her as yours right now," she continued, sick fanaticism shining in her black irises, "or I cut my own sister's throat right here. I won't allow her to live while she still wants what's mine."
Silence took over the cabin. The threat was not a bluff.
Zhì Yuǎn remained with one knee on the floor. He did not reprimand his wife. He simply turned his face slowly and looked at Yù Méi.
The younger girl was still clutching his wrist. Her face was streaked with tears. There was no fear of death in her almond-shaped eyes — only the terror of being rejected.
Yù Méi shook her head, lips trembling violently.
"I don't want to live if it's not like this," she whispered, voice raw and breaking. Her grip on his arm tightened. "You can let her kill me, A-Yuǎn. I'd rather die than go back out there and live without you."
Zhì Yuǎn looked at the desperation on the girl's face, then at his wife standing beside him. The possessiveness of one and the blind obsession of the other formed a perfect trap. They were bound to him through blood, time, and a loyalty that had long since surpassed any sanity.
He closed his eyes for a second and let out a long, resigned sigh.
Rationality gave way to affection.
Zhì Yuǎn turned his right hand, freeing himself from the girl's desperate grip, and extended his large, calloused palm toward her.
"If you take my hand now, Méi," his grave voice came out calm, almost gentle, "playtime is over. From this moment on, there's no going back. You become my second wife, for all eternity."
Yù Méi stopped crying instantly.
Shock parted her lips. She looked at the hand extended in front of her face, then raised her head and met Zhì Yuǎn's dark, steady eyes. Her breathing faltered.
Without hesitation, Yù Méi threw both hands forward and grabbed his palm with all the strength she had, sealing her choice.