Three ex-husbands and a marriage

Escape

As I approached the Western Palace, a sense of relief washed over me, momentarily easing the relentless ache in my chest. True to form, he was ensconced within her chambers once more, lost in the nocturnal dance of demons. The lilting melody of music drifted on the air, entwined with her laughter—a cutting contrast to the surrounding silence. I imagined him ensnared by the intoxicating allure of demon brew, his gaze ensnared by her radiant beauty.

Burying the discomfort in my chest, I pressed myself against the wall, seeking refuge in the shadows, thankful for the solitude granted by my lack of attendants. As an Empress without an entourage, I moved through the darkness unseen, though tethered by the invisible chains he had bound around me.

The celestials who had submitted to the demons' rule still scorned my betrayal, while the demons hailed me as their savior. I know that deep down, both despise me. Once deemed a traitor, always marked as such. They didn't desire my existence; they craved the legacy I would leave behind. Perhaps my only hope is to hide in the human realm, the neutral and young realm that is overlooked by all.

I jumped when Man Chiu's smooth deep voice rang in my mind, as if he was omniscient, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "Stay concealed if you wish to witness my pleasure," his voice whispered in my mind. This unexpected communication rattled me to my core. Had my sacrifice of my spiritual core to a demon granted him control over my thoughts and movements?

At this moment, I could not afford to be distracted from my purpose and refused to give him satisfaction. I pressed onward silently, savoring the reprieve from the pain and the newfound lightness in my steps. I must find Zhanglun, but the palace is so large and my current powers only hairline slivers of what they used to be.

Closing my eyes, I willed myself into meditation, guiding my consciousness through the palace. My soul detached from my body, gliding silently through the corridors. At the pinnacle of the platform, Man Chiu brooded, his thoughts veiled behind a facade as he idly toyed with an ivory cup. His lips curled with a self-satisfied smirk, relishing in his assumed superiority. Unlike what I had imagined, his attention was not on the beauty before him but lost in thought and staring at the wide doors with an expectant gaze. Sha Sha danced tirelessly before her indifferent audience, her movements captivating yet futile.

Ignoring the spectacle, my soul veered through the walls, slipping behind the bed chambers and descending beneath the false floor. In a dimly lit tunnel, I found him—a solitary figure suspended by chains, his skin marred by angry red welts. Zhanglun, battered but resilient, remained alive, his very existence unnatural and unique. He truly could not be killed. The cuts on his stomach and chest had healed but their scars were large and deep. Even the marks on his neck while more faint, are the results of Man Chiu's experiments.

I froze as he looked directly at my soul, recognising me even when Man Chiu could not. He smiled slightly and winked playfully. His eyes held hope and doubt, as if telling me to go, leave him and flee, and that one day he will find me again. The silence was overwhelming, and my soul fled the holding cell, desperate to find any cracks in this impenetrable fortress to rescue him. Saving him without confronting Man Chiu seemed an insurmountable challenge.

The demon king knew it, taunting me, playing a cruel game of cat and mouse and teasing my resolve. Perhaps this powerplay is intended to showcase my true weakness and demands my absolute obedience. "He is simply indomitable. Do not despair. His wounds will heal swiftly, and he will rise again," Man Chiu's voice echoed through my mind. Though I remained silent, his impatience compelled him to speak once more. "Like a cockroach, that slave refuses to yield. Now, I see that my empress shares his persistence."

A bitter smile graced my lips, envisioning the sneer that accompanied his words. Memories of the demon king flooded my mind, before Bai Longwang's shattering truths —the lingering gazes, the tentative smiles. Was it the blossoming of romance, or merely a bond forged in the crucible of shared purpose?