The mad princess forces love upon him, and the aloof imperial advisor trembles every night.

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

With four hundred years of cultivation and four hundred years of solitude, he thought he had long since seen through the vast world and the myriad faces of human nature.

But the person before him—the one he had raised with his own hands and then sent to the Northern Underworld Purgatory with his own hands—was like a thorn soaked in hatred and obsession, piercing his seemingly impenetrable Dao heart.

"Chu Qingyue," he began, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible ache.

"In the seven years since you entered the Northern Underworld, why do you have not a single scar on your body and have remained a virgin?"

He stepped forward, his white robe brushing against the cold ground, his gaze fixed on her: "What... exactly have you been through?"

This was the first time he had asked her about her past in Beiming.

Chu Qingyue's eyelashes trembled slightly.

In that instant, Si Chen saw something extremely complex in her eyes—like a fleeting starlight in an abyss, too fast to grasp, yet it had truly existed.

"What happened?"

She chuckled softly, her laughter tinged with a broken, hoarse quality.

"It's nothing more than... murder... arson... crawling out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, surviving amidst conspiracies and schemes."

"Does the Imperial Preceptor perhaps think that I went to Beiming to enjoy the snow and go hunting?"

She suddenly looked up, staring intently at him: "And what about the Imperial Advisor? Why did he go into seclusion for seven whole years after I left?"

Eyes facing each other.

Something was silently tearing through the air.

Si Chen avoided her gaze and also avoided answering that question.

"Leave, Chu Qingyue," he finally spoke, his voice carrying the first hint of compromise in over four hundred years.

"Return to Beiming. I will petition His Majesty to bestow upon you the title of King of Beiming, granting you a vast territory and eternal peace."

"The sky is high and the sea is wide, enough to live a carefree life. The capital... I will never return."

"The King of the Northern Underworld?" she repeated, then suddenly chuckled softly, her laughter filled with sarcasm.

"It's too far, and the sandstorms are fierce. How can it compare to this Star-Picking Tower? The mortal world is so close, yet worlds apart... Especially with such a wonderful person as the Imperial Preceptor around, wouldn't it be... much more interesting to be together day and night?"

Si Chen closed his eyes briefly. "..."

Chu Qingyue's smile grew even more alluring and venomous: "However, since the Imperial Advisor has spoken so graciously today, I... will grant you this favor."

"If you agree to my request, it is not impossible for you to travel far to the Northern Sea."

Si Chen stared at her: "Speak."

Chu Qingyue looked at him and said, "You, Si Chen, come and be my consort, share my bed, and whisper sweet nothings in my ear."

"Once I give birth to a son and a daughter, as beautiful as the Imperial Preceptor, I will take them far away to the Northern Sea and never come back to disturb your peaceful cultivation."

She looked up, her eyes filled with a complex mix of bloodlust and obsession.

"Will the Imperial Advisor answer?"

On the observatory, there was a deathly silence.

Si Chen's breathing finally became completely disordered.

He stared at her as if she were a complete madwoman—which, in fact, she was.

But it was precisely this madman who caused his Dao heart, which had remained calm for four hundred years, to be stirred up by a storm for the first time.

"Chu Qingyue," his voice was terrifyingly deep, "your madness is terminal, incurable."

"Crazy?" She laughed, a smile that was both alluring and insane.

"You jest, Your Excellency. I have never been so clear-headed."

"This great Chu empire will sooner or later be mine."

"My man must be the best in the world."

"You, Si Chen, just happen to be... barely qualified."

She looked up at him, her eyes both innocent and wicked:

"Anyway, you can't stop my revenge."

"But if you agree, at least the fate of the Great Chu can be saved—after all, if I become the wife of the Grand Preceptor, it wouldn't be right to be too cruel to the country that my husband has poured his heart and soul into protecting, would it?"

Si Chen closed his eyes.

For the first time in four hundred years, he clearly felt—

What is... "calamity"?

What is... an inescapable karmic entanglement?

After a long while, he opened his eyes, and his pupils were like a bottomless, icy pool, reflecting no light whatsoever.

"Chu Qingyue," his voice was terrifyingly calm, "do you think you can force me to submit with such absurd conditions?"

"It wasn't coercion," she corrected, her fingertips lightly tracing the cloud pattern on his lapel, as if painting with a brush.

"It's a deal. The Grand Preceptor protects the nation's destiny, and I seek revenge. This is a dead end from the start."

"But if the Imperial Preceptor is willing to offer himself as bait to the tiger, entering this mortal world of sins... perhaps, in my good mood, I'll kill fewer people?"

She tilted her head, her eyes as innocent as a young girl's, but the words she spoke sent chills down one's spine:

"Grand Preceptor, please weigh this carefully. Is it better to sit idly by and watch me slaughter the imperial city and destroy the country, or... to wrong the Grand Preceptor alone in exchange for a century of peace for the Great Chu?"

Si Chen suddenly grabbed her misbehaving hand, with such force that he almost crushed her wrist.

He stared at her, engraving each word slowly and deliberately, as if carving stone:

"wishful thinking."

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned around with a flick of his sleeve, his silver hair flying like a waterfall.

Her light, airy voice came from behind, tinged with laughter, with blood, with a kind of desperate madness:

"The Imperial Advisor should not..."

"Next time, I'll want much more than this."

He didn't stop walking; his figure gradually blended into the dawn light, like a banished immortal returning to the clouds, seemingly leaving no trace.

Only the bruise around her wrist resembled a newly inscribed contract—

With hatred as the medium and obsession as the bond, I offer this life and this body as a sacrifice, inviting you to join me in this passionate but short-lived affair that burns heaven and earth.

————The Residence of the Princess Zhenguo————

The moonlight, sharp as a blade, sliced ​​through the night at the residence of the Princess Zhenguo.

Liu Yun stood under the corridor, twisting the handkerchief almost to shreds with her fingertips. Her eyes, gazing at the Star-Picking Tower, were filled with an overwhelming sense of worry and fear.

"Chixiao," her voice trembled, "is Her Highness... really alright?"

Chi Xiao gripped the hilt of his sword, his gaze calm: "No. Her Highness never does anything without certainty. Her choice to stay at Zhaixing Tower must have a deeper meaning."

"But the Imperial Preceptor—" Liu Yun's throat tightened, "It was he who sent His Highness to Beiming back then! His Highness hates him to the bone, and now that His Highness is in his hands, I'm afraid..."

"Silence." Chi Xiao lowered his voice, cautiously looking around. "Right now, only Your Highness can hold off the Imperial Preceptor before we can make our move."

"We must ensure everything goes perfectly on the day of the sacrificial ceremony. She has her own plans regarding His Highness's safety."

Liu Yun bit her lip and touched the food box on the stone table:

"I'm still worried... I've prepared some of His Highness's favorite dishes, which are light and refreshing. I'll see if I can find an opportunity to send them to His Highness."

"She's in the Star-Picking Tower... I wonder if the Imperial Preceptor will mistreat her. What if she's hungry and cold, and her old illness flares up again..."

Before he finished speaking, a very light breeze suddenly arose in the courtyard.

As the moonlight shifted, a purple figure stood silently there.

His flowing robe trailed down the blue bricks, his silver hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his face, bathed in the moonlight, was so handsome it seemed otherworldly, yet his eyes were as cold as ice—it was none other than the Imperial Preceptor Si Chen.

Liu Yun and Chi Xiao froze, their backs instantly straightening. They forced themselves to remain on guard and bowed their heads in greeting: "Greetings, Grand Preceptor."

Si Chen's gaze swept over them indifferently, finally landing on the food box in Liu Yun's hands: "What did your Highness experience during those seven years in Bei Ming?"

Both Liu Yun and Chi Xiao felt a chill run down their spines.

Liu Yun lowered his head, replying respectfully yet firmly:

"Your Excellency, His Highness previously issued a strict order that no one should speak recklessly about her affairs in Beiming, or face severe punishment. We dare not disobey His Highness's command and beg Your Excellency for forgiveness."